A New York Times article on biopiracy, by Paulo Prada, "Poisonous Tree Frong Could Bring Wealth to Tribe in Brazillian Amazon," May 30, 2006, describes claims on the ownership of patented products arising from the study of the venom produced by a poisonous (but I suspect probably very cute) tree frog:
. . . Brazil, like other developing nations, is trying to fight back against what it perceives as biopiracy, the theft of biological resources from the country's native habitats for commercial use. Though the project is still in its early stages, and many starts often prove false, teams of some 20 scientists are seeking initial financing of close to $1 million from more than a dozen local universities, state governments and federal agencies. . . The effort comes as developing countries increasingly promote the idea of developing and commercializing their traditional medicines and local arts. And they are questioning the rights of foreigners to exploit their locally derived products. At a United Nations gathering in the southern Brazilian city of Curitiba last month, delegates from developing nations called for changes to international law that would allow governments to block — or at least share profits from — foreign patents on biological resources found in their territory.
Is this property rights? Or taxes? Or protectionism? Or an unsavory blend? I vote for unsavory blend.
The theory of biopiracy at its best would give alert indiginous peoples to the potential value of their knowledge and existing rights in medicinal compounds that they have discovered (or created), and, especially, to trade that knowledge to parties in a better position to enhance the compounds into a commercially valuable product, so they do not give up valuable rights for a pittance.
But a claim that indiginous people's or their representative governments "own" the venom of a tree frog, medicinal or otherwise, simply by virtue of having discovered it . . . ? Well, it sounds like patenting a law of nature to me. I am not sure why indiginous people would have a claim of ownership stemming from discovery, any more than a scientist indiginous to Munich or Boston has a claim on ownership ofhis discoveries into the properties of uranium or dolphins.
Would these same discoverers share the risk and blame if the product were somewhere downstream, found to cause birth defects or other harm? Would they also desire to share in the profits from sales of coffee, tea, and chocolate, claiming to have discovered their property of tastiness? What about the properties of coca leaves and opium poppies? Would they like to share in the profits from the development of those products into painkillers? Would they also like to share in the profits from the sales of heroin and cocaine? What about crack? Will they share in ameliorating the harms?
I am particularly skeptical of the claim that the governments supposed to be representing the people in question ought to be making these claims on their behalf; the cut taken off the top is likely to be a generous one. Why not, oh, give the tribe the right to the land the frog inhabits and be done with it? From status to contract...
Alternately, what about resources exploited from the native people's within the nation? Surely the local tribes also have the right to be compensated by the government and people of Brazil for their timber, their land, their water, their minerals, their soil...
Finally, has anyone considered the superior claims of the frog to the rights to his venom? In the absence of any discovering tribe, the government must surely assert rights on behalf of the plant or tree or critter in question, and set up a fund, with many, many adminstrators, on the being's behalf.
Leave it to some of the loudest critics of patents to come up with the broadest theory of ownership yet, most resembling a feudal entitlement.
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