[Submitted today to the OSTP. -MFM]
The
Office of Science and Technology Policy (OSTP) explains in its Request for
Information (RFI) that “the Administration is interested in working with all
stakeholders (including universities, companies, Federal research labs,
entrepreneurs, investors, and non-profits).” I write to share my experience as
a person who has been in the shoes of five out of six of these stakeholders. In
addition to having worked as paid research intern at Pacific Northwest National
Laboratory, I have worked as a research and teaching assistant at the
University of Chicago, a CFO for a consumer Internet venture capital fund in
San Francisco, and as an entrepreneur. At present, I practice patent law at the
law firm of Drinker Biddle & Reath LLP, representing a mix of small and
large clients, from individuals to large multinational companies, in both
transactions and litigation relating to intellectual property. Notwithstanding
all that, the views expressed here are mine alone, and should not be attributed
to any of institutions with which I have been or am associated.
The most important and difficult problem for commercialization of
university research is the financing gap between curious exploration and
venture capital startups. Because new businesses provide the only sustainable
mechanism for the United States to create jobs and wealth, this is also the
most important and difficult problem for the United States to solve in its
long-term bid to compete in the global economy.
If we
want to increase the flow of inventions from our universities and laboratories
into commerce, then academics must have more contact with — and inevitably,
more dependence upon — people in commerce. No intangible or inanimate thing can
create. Although intellectual property rights can and do facilitate
multilateral agreements among universities, researchers, and industry, we must never
forget this basic fact of nature.
Given
that fact, one might ask the following: What is the biggest obstacle to
increasing communication between universities and industry? Although there are
many practical answers to this question, on my view the ultimate answer is
cultural. An obsolete cultural norm is at the
core of our difficulty in promoting technology transfer.
This
obsolete cultural norm holds that academics must be independent from and
disinterested in the consequences of their research. This norm is an ideal,
which has never been realized in practice. But even as an ideal it is obsolete.
Louis
Menand, in his recent treatise, The
Marketplace of Ideas, explains how this cultural norm coevolved with the
specialization of academics into departments
and professional schools, each of which was self-regulated and, to an
approximation, autonomous from the rest of the university. As a result, academics
had been sequestered, both from each other and from the rest of society.
More
recently, a norm of cross-diciplinarity, or interdisciplinarity, has emerged
within the research university. Many academics
have come to appreciate the benefits of communicating with and learning from
colleagues in other departments and schools. Whereas specialization and
sequestration led to stable consensus and uniform doctrine, cross-disciplinarity
has brought about a Cambrian explosion in new theory. Although, like anything
new at a university, cross-disciplinarity has its critics, they are few.
Transcendent University Culture
My
primary purpose in writing is to point out that the next logical step in the
evolution of research universities is for this cross-disciplinarity to extend through the equally artificial walls that
separate research universities from the rest of our economy. If we can accept
that disciplinary boundaries are artificial, and that research can have both disciplinary
prejudices and credibility, then we can accept researchers as a part of
commerce, and researchers that have both economic interests and academic
reputations.
For our
system to change, the plurality of stakeholders must recognize and embrace this
new conception of what it means to be an academic. To preempt the most common
objection, we must not assume that more and more frequent communication with
industry entails irreconcilable conflicts of interest. Conflicts of interest can
be grave. But prohibiting close relations between academics and entrepreneurs is
the clumsiest and costliest way that conflicts can be addressed. More
importantly, research universities already have highly evolved mechanisms for dealing
with conflicts of interests, which fellow faculty have a strong interest in
regulating in order to preserve their own reputations.
I
therefore earnestly encourage the OSTP to bear in mind the extensive negative influence
of this obsolete cultural norm in evaluating the merits of the various proposals for reform of the technology transfer system. In my
remaining remarks, I give a brief answer to Part I of the RFI.
I have
nothing to say about Part II of the RFI except that prior to reading this RFI,
I had never heard of the NSF Engineering Research Centers Program. Upon looking
them up on the Internet, I realize this is
because none are located in Silicon Valley, where I have spent the bulk of my
professional life. Silicon Valley is also the startup and patent capital of the
United States, and perhaps the world. One might justly wonder why, besides a
need to appease special interest groups, a POCC had not been located here.
Private POCCs, such as Paul Graham’s Y Combinator, seem to have flourished only
in the technological fields where intellectual property rights are weakest.
Answers to Questions from Part I: Promising Practices and Successful
Models
What do
all promising practices and successful models of technology transfer have in
common? High-bandwidth feedback loops between the university and industry,
promoted by fast, easy negotiations with technology transfer offices over
intellectual property rights. To be more specific, the most successful models seem
to be subscription-based, nonexclusive licenses of intellectual property,
sometimes sweetened for the university with backended payments, such as
warrants or reach-through royalties.
If this
model works, then why is it not the rule at most universities? The ultimate
answer is that given above — namely, that university culture often forces
faculty and students to choose between the university and industry. The
proximate answer is that most universities handle technology transfers on a
case by case basis. With limited administrative resources, inventors avoid the
hassle either by ignoring their intellectual property rights or leaving to
pursue them without interference by the university.
The
latter claim might sound incredible, but even rough estimates show that
universities now realize only a fraction of the potential value of their
research through licensing or spinoffs of their intellectual property. Top
research universities that employ thousands of researchers who publish thousands
of papers file only a few hundred invention disclosures with their technology
transfer offices. The same universities spend billions on buildings and
equipment, pay only modest salaries, and see only about 2 or 3 percent come
back through licensing revenue. Comparison against for-profit benchmarks
suggests that this percentage could be doubled, tripled, or quadrupled with no
additional capital expenditures. Public universities ought to pay attention to
these numbers, given the impending credit crisis for many state and local governments.
Aside
from an obsolete cultural norm of autonomy, plain envy prevents many universities
from implementing subscription-based, nonexclusive licensing of university
intellectual property. Whereas the most obvious compensation structure for
technology transfer offices would be commissions based on the number of
nonexclusive licenses closed, the total compensation paid successful employees
would be too high a multiple of the average university employee salary to be
tolerated by other employees. Many university endowments have effectively sidestepped
this envy problem by physically and legally dissociating themselves from the
rest of campus, and by hiring private investment managers. These are viable
options, albeit politically unpalatable given the people already employed within
most universities. Perhaps only the federal government has the authority
necessary to bring about the large-scale radical changes necessary.
We have a
host of spectacular successes, both old and new, to strengthen our resolve. The
Stanford Electronics Research Laboratory spawned a host of semiconductor
companies — so many that the area in which they were (and are) located is now
known as Silicon Valley. Nonexclusive licensing of the Cohen-Boyer patent by
Stanford’s then-nascent Office of Technology
Licensing gave birth to Genentech and a biotechnology industry in both Northern
and Southern California. More recently, the MIT Media Lab has given birth to a
host of digital technologies, including the electronic ink in display
technology used in the Amazon Kindle, and predictive analytics drawn from
massive amounts of real-time location-specific data.
Freedom to Discover
and Invent
The
lasting legacy of the cultural and institutional reforms prescribed here will
be freedom. More freedom for faculty and students to do what they do best, which
is discover and invent. Should universities open to industry, faculty and
students would remain free to leave the university whenever their passion for
business overtakes their passion for research. Streamlining licensing of
intellectual property rights will only add to their freedom an ability to
diversify into multiple sources of information and potential applications by partnering
with a diversity of entrepreneurs and investors.
Recent Comments