Alas, poor Rubik

There is something indefinably exotic about the concept of invention: a sense that anybody can participate in the process of creating something new. All it takes is a good idea - the most successful of which are often quite simple - or an original way of modifying something already in existence. Some of Ireland's most famous contributions to the world's inventions to date include Francis Rynd's hypodermic syringe in 1844; John Philip Holland's first successful submarine in 1881; Lucien Bull's Electrocardiograph (ECG) in 1908; and Harry Ferguson's tractor-mounted plough in 1935.

Everyone knows someone whose house, garden, or workshop contains some arcane home-made gadget. But what happens when you decide you want to take your invention beyond the family domain, believing it to be of some commercial value? Patenting it is the first step, and deciding how many countries to patent it in is the second.

Anyone who has ever attempted to solve the fiendish little coloured brick puzzle, known as the Rubik Cube, will probably not have contributed very much to the coffers of Mr Rubik. He patented it only in Hungary. By the time it had taken off as an international craze, many others had patented it in other countries, and made tons of money in the process. This is perfectly legal.

In 1927, Ireland's first independent Patent Office was set up. Each patent has an identifying number: the first patent number started at 10,001. This was the number of the patent called "Starting Cages for Racing Dogs and the Like", which was filed by Hannah Mary Smith.

Patent Number 10,021, which was the first patent application to be processed, was "Improved Traffic Signals for Road Vehicles". This was filed by Mrs Clara Boag and comprised of two little signs with pictures of hands painted on them. These acted as mechanised hand-signals which worked by springs and levers, popping out on whichever side of the car was turning right or left, thus saving you from sticking your own hand out the window into Ireland's elements.

Last September, as part of the government policy of decentralisation, the Patents Office moved from Dublin to Kilkenny. While it has retained a staff of four to front an Information Office in Dublin, virtually all the work involved in processing applications for patents, trademarks, and registered designs now goes through Kilkenny.

In 1997, 1,405 patents were granted in this country. Depending on how many countries you wish to take out your patent in, the procedure can take several years, although your patent is protected from the day of filing. A patent gives you the exclusive monopoly to make, use and sell the invention, for the period of time which you have applied for. To protect a patent just in Ireland for 10 years costs £50 and for 20 years, £100. Renewal fees are due annually.

Gerard Barrett is an assistant principal at the Patent Office. "The application forms are complex, involving precise technical descriptions and drawings of the inventions. If they're not filled out properly, the applications will be rejected." He reports that while some people do fill them out successfully unaided, most go to patent agents for help filling out the forms, which costs an average of £600 per application.

Some of the recent inventions which have been submitted to the Patents Office are: interfloss dental flosser, described as a system of flossing which replicates brushing your teeth; a device which inflates and knots balloons; a carboot organiser made up of various storage parts; and a security mechanism called a Cashlink, which transfers valuables from a vehicle to a building or vice-versa, without the need to leave either location.

"It's impossible to know by looking at applications which of them might be successful," says Dolores Cassidy, a chemical examiner. A substantial number of patent applications come from chemical or pharmaceutical companies, many in the drug and medical fields.

In the lobby of the Patents Office is a poster listing some of the Irish people - all men - who have contributed to the world's inventions. The last date on the list is 1946, with James Martin's aircraft ejector seat. In an attempt to find someone more contemporary for publicity purposes, Barrett got excited when he read a report in this newspaper last October.

A team of scientists in the University of Limerick, led by Dr Timothy Smyth, had just discovered a potentially sensational method of modifying penicillin. In time, this discovery could mean that penicillin can be used by those who have previously been resistant to it. The team published its findings in the Internet edition of the Journal of Organic Chemistry on the same day it was announced in the US by the American Chemical Society.

"This was pretty hot stuff. I rang Dr Smyth and asked if he had applied for a patent," Barrett reports. "He said he hadn't. That was bad news for us." Presumably, it was not the happiest of news for Dr Smyth either. Under current legislation in this country, information which is in the public domain, whether it's been seen on The Late Late Show or at the Young Scientists Exhibition or published on the Internet, is no longer classified as innovative.

"Once it's out like that, you're finished," Barrett says. "It would be relatively easy for someone else to patent it at a further stage of development, called an `innovative step'." Scientific research teams sometimes offer to sell the results of their findings and their methods used for a large price, or are invited to work with others to develop the discovery, usually also for a considerable amount of money. With a tangible object that can be copied easily, such as the Rubik Cube, payment to the source of the inventor just doesn't come into it at all.

Although there is a library available to the public to search through the patent applications already filed, new applications are not made generally available to curious researchers for a period of time. Are the people who work patents offices ever inspired to try to create their own inventions?

Michael Lydon, who is the European Patents Office liasion officer, is on a three-year secondment to Ireland from the Hague. "You can certainly follow a certain field quite closely over a period of years," he agrees. "To a limited extent, you can begin to predict what might be happening next." This is why if employees at the European Office wish to file their own applications for inventions, they must wait 18 months after leaving the Patents Office before doing so.

This is clearly news to his Irish colleagues. According to Barrett, the same restriction does not apply in Ireland. There follows an animated discussion by all three. Perhaps if Gerard Barrett and his colleagues at the Patents Office in Kilkenny can't find someone soon to add to their list of inventors, they might invent something themselves instead. After all, many writers who previously worked in publishing went on from there to create their own books.