Articles and Notes

Patents and copyrights are two of the main forms of legal protection for ideas, inventions, and creative work. Both grant exclusive rights for a limited time, but they protect different things, come from different agencies, and follow different rules. Below: the basics, when to use which, and — most important — why I do what I do, how great they are, and how much they are worth.

A patent is a right granted by a government (in the United States, by the USPTO) that lets the patent holder exclude others from making, using, selling, or importing an invention. It does not automatically give the holder permission to practice the invention (e.g. if it builds on someone else’s patent); it gives the right to exclude.

To get a patent, you must apply to the patent office, satisfy requirements (e.g. novelty, non-obviousness, adequate disclosure), and pay fees. There is no patent right until a patent is granted. Patent pending means an application is on file, not that a patent has issued.

Copyright protects “original works of authorship” fixed in a tangible medium — software code, books, music, images, technical documentation. It gives the owner the exclusive right to reproduce, distribute, perform, display, and create derivative works, subject to exceptions (e.g. fair use). In the United States, copyright exists as soon as a work is fixed; registration is not required for protection but is required before you can sue for infringement in federal court. Term: for individuals, generally the life of the author plus 70 years; for works made for hire, 95 years from publication or 120 years from creation, whichever is shorter.

I work with patents, copyrights, and technology handoffs because I believe in property and in tying reward to effort. The Pilgrim lesson applies to ideas and inventions too: when creators and inventors can keep and protect what they produce, innovation thrives; when it is taken and given away — a common store of ideas — incentive collapses. I do what I do to operate in a world where that does not happen. I want handoffs to be clear: who owns what, what is licensed, what stays with the seller. I want buyers and sellers to get the terms right so that the people who do the work can benefit from it. I want to build, and work within, an order where hard work and invention are rewarded — where the common store is rejected and where property, in things and in ideas, is respected. That is why I do what I do.

Patents and copyrights are great because they make invention and creation possible in a way that respects the creator. They protect the novel method, the new machine, the code, and the documentation. They give the inventor and the author a legal claim to exclude others — and thus to license, sell, or keep. Without them, ideas drift into a common store: anyone can take, no one has a clear right to benefit. With them, the link between effort and reward holds. They make technology handoffs possible: when you buy or license, you know what you are getting and what stays with the seller. They are the framework that lets innovators and buyers deal with each other on clear terms. For someone who has spent decades building technology — quantum processors, electric jets, batteries, cure discovery, and more — patents and copyrights are what allow that work to be valued, transferred, and protected. They are not a side note. They are essential.

I have developed nineteen technology products across computing, energy, aerospace, defence, cure discovery, communications, and more. The portfolio includes foundry-ready quantum processors and accelerators, electric vehicle and electric jet platforms, quantum battery systems, war satellite and defence systems, nuclear waste recycling, disease cure discovery (diabetes, Alzheimer’s, Parkinson’s, and research spanning hundreds of diseases), secure communication and blockchain platforms, semiconductor and materials discovery, and IoT platforms. Valuations for individual assets range from the millions to the trillions of dollars, depending on the technology, market size, development completeness, and the deal. For example: communication and software platforms in the tens of millions; energy, aerospace, and defence systems in the hundreds of millions to billions; and quantum computing, battery, and EV foundry handoffs in the hundreds of billions to trillions. Patents and copyrights underpin that value. They are the legal structure that makes the handoffs possible and that makes the work worth anything at all.

In the context of technology handoffs, many packages are offered as Base, No IP or Research only, No IP: you receive design files, data, or research, but no transfer of patent or copyright unless a separate agreement says so. Sellers may retain their own patent applications and granted patents. If you need IP rights — for freedom to operate, exclusivity, or sublicensing — those terms must be negotiated and written into a separate license or assignment.

The heartland west of Canada — Alberta, Saskatchewan, and the resource-rich provinces — produces much of the country’s wealth. It extracts the oil and gas, grows the grain, mines the minerals, and generates the surplus. That money flows east. Through equalisation, federal transfers, and federal spending, it goes to Ottawa — the federal capital and, in Canadian usage, a stand-in for the federal government — and to the east coast: Ontario, Quebec, and the Atlantic provinces. There it is redistributed. The west makes it; the east gives it away — in a socialist attitude. Take from the productive, pool it at the centre, and distribute it according to rules made in Ottawa. It is the common store in modern dress. The producers do not keep what they produce; it is sent east to be allocated by others. The link between effort and reward is weakened. Resentment in the west and dependence on the centre follow. The Pilgrim lesson applies: when reward is divorced from effort, the system cracks.

Canada is now nearly broken up. Western alienation, Quebec sovereignty, and Indigenous self-determination each challenge the idea of a single, centrally governed federation and put pressure on Ottawa’s ability to hold the country together.

In Alberta, the provincial government has passed legislation (including Bill 14) that lowers the bar for citizens to force a referendum and has relaxed rules on how referendum questions are vetted. Separatist groups such as the Alberta Prosperity Project push for independence; some have floated the idea of Alberta joining the United States. Federal Conservative leader Pierre Poilievre has called Alberta’s grievances over energy policy and equalisation “legitimate.” Saskatchewan has seen similar western alienation; polls have at times shown a third of respondents open to independence, though the premier has rejected secession and called for a “reset” with Ottawa. In Quebec, the Parti Québécois has led in polls and has pledged a sovereignty referendum by 2030. Some analysts warn that a “Quebexit” or secession crisis could arrive within a few years and that Canada is not prepared for the legal and political chaos that would follow a yes vote.

Whether or not another referendum is held — or succeeds — the possibility has returned to public debate. The wealth-producing west sends equalisation east; Quebec and Ontario receive a large share. The same pattern: the producers fund the centre, and the centre redistributes. Canada is nearly broken up. If Quebec or a western bloc were to leave, or if the federation were reconfigured, Ottawa would no longer be the capital of the Canada we know.

Russia is the successor to the Soviet Union — a communist state built on central planning, collective ownership, and the suppression of property and markets. The USSR collapsed in 1991, but the habits, structures, and ambitions did not. Today’s Russia remains an authoritarian state with much of the old apparatus: a powerful centre, a security state, and an ideology that subordinates the individual and the region to the collective and the capital. It has invaded Ukraine to expand its influence, redraw borders, and resist the spread of Western-style democracy and market order.

Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine began in February 2022. As of late 2025, Russia occupies roughly 20% of Ukrainian territory. After a period of stalemate, Russian forces increased their rate of advance in 2025, seizing thousands of additional square kilometres. Fighting remains intense along a “fortress belt” in the Donbas; Ukraine has mounted counter-attacks elsewhere. Casualties on both sides are very high — estimated in the hundreds of thousands — and over 10 million Ukrainians are displaced. Diplomacy has so far failed to resolve core disputes over territory, security guarantees, and the status of occupied regions. The conflict has reshaped European security, drawn in Western arms and sanctions, and left the borders and political future of Ukraine — and the wider order — unsettled.

Communist Russia’s current situation: at war, isolated, and still trying to impose its order by force.

The Pilgrims landed at Plymouth in 1620. Their contract with the London merchants who financed the voyage required the colony to run a common store. Crops, land, and housing were held in common. Whatever was produced went into the common store and was shared more or less equally. No family kept what it grew. The result: the link between effort and reward was broken. The industrious gained nothing from working harder; the idle received the same share. Incentive collapsed. People stopped working. Hunger and disease followed. About half of the colonists died the first winter.

Governor William Bradford saw that the communal system was destroying the colony. He abandoned the common store and gave each family a private plot to farm for itself. What a family grew, it kept. The change worked. People worked. Harvests grew. The colony became productive enough to survive and to celebrate. Thanksgiving, in this telling, is in part a devout gratitude to God for that turn — and for the lesson that private property and personal responsibility, not collectivism, had saved them.

When reward is divorced from effort, effort falls. When each household keeps what it produces, the colony thrives. The Pilgrims did not need more rules or more sharing from the top; they needed to tie output to the household and to let people benefit from their own labor. William Bradford’s own history, Of Plymouth Plantation, supports the sequence: a common store, distress, assignment of plots in 1623, and improved harvests. The common store fails. Bradford’s allocation succeeds. Rush Limbaugh told this “True Story of Thanksgiving” for decades, drawing on his 1992 book See, I Told You So and his Rush Revere children’s series. He told it for the last time in November 2020, a few months before his death.