A patent, any good patent attorney will tell you,
isn't a right to do something, it's a right to keep
others from doing it. If your invention is a good one,
they'll pay you for the privilege of using it for the
patent's 20-year life. If they don't license your patent
voluntarily but apply its innovation anyway, you have
two choices: back off, or sue for infringement. Which
way you go depends largely on how much money you've
got-if you decide to go the legalistic route, you'd
better have a couple of million dollars to start you on
your way.
Captain Carl Elam was an inventor with more good
ideas than money. Back in 1983, repelled by what kids
could watch on TV, he and another U.S. Air Force
officer, Dale Leavy, designed a system that would let
parents block certain types of programs. Eighteen years
later, the V-chip, as such a system would come to be
called, hit it big when the U.S. Congress ordered that
all new televisions include content-filtering
technology. By then, though, out of money, the two
inventors had sold their patent. They ended up with a
quarter of the fees that TV manufacturers eventually
paid for licenses. Raking in most of the V-chip dough
was a small band of venture capitalists at a California
company called Acacia Technologies Group.
For Acacia, it was just the beginning. Today, the
company has an expanded portfolio of patents, the
technical and business savvy to spot other valuable
patents, and a small but tenacious legal staff. Most
important, it has a war chest big enough to finance
legal adventures that just might have as big an impact
on patent law as on the future course of a host of
Internet-related technologies. And it's looking for new
prospects all the time.
From the V-chip, whose key patent expired last year,
Acacia has moved on to the potentially much more
lucrative world of streaming media, the basic technology
by which sound and video is delivered to personal
computers or digital televisions via the Internet or a
cable box. Acacia claims to own patents that cover
virtually every aspect of transferring digitally encoded
media from a server to a customer. A few examples: the
downloading of songs to computers and MP3 players such
as Apple's iPod, the streaming of video to a PC, the
digital distribution of motion pictures to hotel rooms,
even the use of a TiVo digital video recorder.
If Acacia's patents are valid and as broad as Acacia
thinks they are, thousands of companies-including titans
like Time Warner, Disney, Microsoft, and Sony-and maybe
even hundreds of millions of users will have to pay
Acacia directly or indirectly. Cable, satellite, and
Internet service providers, video-on-demand companies,
music sites, the new Web radio enterprises,
pornographers-almost anyone delivering digital video or
audio across a network will be liable.
"The breadth of their claims is stunning," says one
patent attorney who has followed the Acacia case
closely, Bruce D. Sunstein, of Bromberg and Sunstein
LLP, in Boston. "If you look at the potential targets,
they include software providers like Microsoft,
RealNetworks, and others, at least for contributory
infringement, and possibly every cable provider and
satellite provider, too. I suppose I'm a contributory
infringer if I download some media content and look at
it."