Polylaminin, patents, and the public debate on innovation in Brazil: a technical-legal analysis

By Leonardo Cordeiro

In recent days, news has gained attention that a technology based on polylaminin, developed by researchers at the Federal University of Rio de Janeiro (UFRJ), allegedly “lost international protection” due to the non-payment of patent maintenance fees abroad. From this fact, interpretations began circulating suggesting that the technology had been “lost,” that the research had “failed,” or that the knowledge had automatically become freely exploitable by third parties.

Before any legal analysis, it is essential to recognize the most important point: this is high-level scientific research with potentially significant therapeutic impact. Such results should be valued as an example of Brazilian scientific capacity and, precisely for that reason, deserve to be discussed with technical responsibility.

However, the issue is not limited to science. The problem lies in how the matter has been framed in the public debate: through simplified narratives that overlook the architecture of the patent system and the specificities of technological development in biotechnology. When a subject that is already little understood in Brazil is addressed imprecisely in the mainstream media, the result is predictable: society is led to mistaken conclusions about a topic that is not taught in a structured manner and therefore lacks the necessary foundation for critical understanding.

The Systemic Logic of Patents

One of the most common misconceptions is to treat a patent as if it were a “single registration” that is born and dies in isolation. In practice, complex technologies—especially in biotechnology, pharmaceuticals, and life sciences in general—are rarely protected by a single application. The standard model involves the formation of patent families, with different filings over time and in different countries, each with its own scope, strategy, and timeline.

Brazilian legislation, through Law No. 9,279/1996 (Industrial Property Law – IPL), recognizes the right of priority (Article 16) and allows divisional applications (Article 26), reflecting this logic. At the international level, instruments such as the World Intellectual Property Organization Patent Cooperation Treaty (PCT) enable institutions and companies to structure global strategies in distinct phases (international application followed by entry into national phases). In projects of significant technological density, it is also common to see subsequent filings covering improvements, new uses, new compositions, new administration routes, and new processes.

Therefore, the interruption of a specific application in a given jurisdiction—whether due to strategic decisions, budgetary constraints, or institutional choices—does not automatically mean that “the technology was lost.” It may indicate that part of the strategy was discontinued in that country; it may reflect the prioritization of another protection route; it may even represent a decision to focus efforts on other jurisdictions, other applications within the same family, or improvement filings. A proper conclusion requires analysis of the whole, not of an isolated element.

In Brazil, it is important to remember that an application may be shelved or terminated for various reasons, such as non-payment of annuities (Article 84), failure to comply with formal requirements (Article 38), or failure to request examination (Article 33). These provisions demonstrate that the system has its own procedural logic. The legal effect of such termination, however, is often misinterpreted in the public sphere, as if any termination meant the “total collapse” of a technological project.

Furthermore, the content disclosed in published applications becomes part of the state of the art (Article 11, §1 of the IPL). This produces relevant effects: it influences novelty assessments and may limit what third parties can subsequently patent. However, this is not equivalent to the simplistic assertion that “anyone can use it.” A patent is a right to exclude, not a seal of permission. The absence of a title in a given country does not automatically eliminate other third-party rights, nor does it remove regulatory, industrial, and contractual risks.

This confusion becomes particularly evident in the third essential point of the debate: third-party exploitation depends on a Freedom to Operate (FTO) analysis. It is insufficient to verify whether “a specific patent exists or not.” A proper assessment requires examining the set of granted patents and pending applications belonging to third parties that may cover manufacturing, formulation, method of use, production process, route of administration, therapeutic regimen, combinations, and other variations. Frequently overlooked, even international applications not nationalized in a particular country must be considered in an FTO analysis, depending on the filing timeline of the original application.

In Brazil, Article 42 of the IPL ensures that the patent holder has the right to prevent third parties from producing, using, selling, or importing the patented object while it remains in force. Conversely, the risk of being blocked by third-party patents does not disappear simply because a specific application has been terminated.

Another equally central point: in biotechnology, pharmaceuticals, and materials science, it is entirely possible that subsequent filings exist concerning the same active principle or technological platform. This is not, by definition, “misappropriation” or a “system error.” Protection may focus on distinct aspects: new compositions, new processes, new forms of administration, new therapeutic uses, or technological improvements. The IPL allows protection provided the requirements of novelty (Article 11), inventive step (Article 13), and industrial application (Article 15) are met. At the international level, the World Trade Organization TRIPS Agreement establishes the obligation to grant patents in all fields of technology under these criteria.

This means that the serious debate is not “whether subsequent filings are allowed,” but rather: what is the scope of each claim, what technical differences are alleged, what is the applicable state of the art, what data and results support inventive step, and whether there is risk of interference or infringement. This is a technical-strategic analysis inherent to professional patent practice and should not be transformed into generalized criticism of any later application related to polylaminin, for example. Indeed, the technical discussion itself may require fine conceptual distinctions—such as between polymerized laminin and polylaminin—with direct impact on novelty, scope, and potential overlap analyses.

The Educational Gap in Intellectual Property in Brazil

The episode reveals something even deeper: the educational gap in Intellectual Property (IP) in Brazil. The Federal Constitution, in Articles 218 and 219, amended by Constitutional Amendment No. 85/2015, reinforces the centrality of science, technology, and innovation for national development and expands mechanisms for cooperation between the State, academia, and the productive sector. Law No. 10,973/2004 (Innovation Law), amended by Law No. 13,243/2016, structures the technology transfer environment and assigns a leading role to Technological Innovation Centers (NITs), which are responsible for IP policies, protection, and licensing.

Despite this framework, Intellectual Property is rarely treated as a foundational subject in Brazilian education. It is not part of basic education, is uncommon in high school curricula, and remains an exception in undergraduate programs directly related to innovation—including engineering, biotechnology, pharmacy, medicine, computer science, and business administration.

The result is predictable: researchers, entrepreneurs, and public managers operate in an environment where IP is not internalized as a strategic tool. Many do not know when they need to protect, when they need to publish, how to organize documentation, how to interact with NITs, how to negotiate with partners, or how to structure projects with a lifecycle perspective for intangible assets.

This gap has concrete costs. It generates economic value loss (because assets are not adequately protected), fragility in international negotiations (due to informational asymmetry), strategic insecurity (because decisions are made “in the dark”), and, above all, a disconnect between science and society: the country produces knowledge but struggles to convert it into protected, transferred, and scalable innovation.

The Role of Society, Professional Associations, and IP Knowledge Dissemination

There is a point that must be clearly stated: Intellectual Property is not a “corporate matter” restricted to law firms, inventors, agents, and legal departments. It is a transversal subject that cuts across all areas of the knowledge economy—from life sciences to artificial intelligence, from academic research to industry, from the laboratory to public policy.

Within this ecosystem, national and international associations play a crucial role. In Brazil, entities such as ABAPI, ABPI, and ASPI provide structured spaces for education, technical debate, knowledge production, and dialogue with public authorities. Internationally, associations such as INTA, AIPPI, ASIPI, and FICPI contribute to benchmarking, harmonization of best practices, and cross-jurisdictional dialogue.

However, a warning is necessary: it is insufficient for only IP professionals to participate in these associations and master the technical details. The subject must be socially understood—at least at the level of functional literacy for innovation. Specialists should provide support, not serve as a “magic solution” to a structural problem.

The analogy is straightforward: when someone starts a company, they know they need an accountant. They may not understand accounting, but they recognize that technical support is necessary. In Intellectual Property, society often does not even recognize that such support is needed. People innovate, publish, disclose, negotiate, and make strategic decisions without realizing they should seek technical guidance—and later discover, too late, that the consequence was lost opportunity, legal risk, or weakened bargaining power.

Here lies a decisive point: the responsibility of the media and social networks.

When mainstream media publicizes highly technical matters without consulting individuals with specialized knowledge, it exacerbates the problem. If society already lacks IP education and receives an inaccurate narrative, the result is not merely absence of information but erroneous conclusions based on imprecise information. This occurs both in cases like the alleged “loss” of rights due to non-payment of foreign patent fees and in health and economic discussions where the term “patent break” is used to describe compulsory licensing—a technically inappropriate expression that misrepresents the legal prerogative. The outcome is a public debate contaminated by slogans and oversimplifications.

Responsibility lies with everyone: those who produce and disseminate content, those who report, those who comment, those who lead institutions, and also those who, being specialists, remain silent. It is necessary to correct course, acknowledge mistakes, and improve the quality of public debate so that the Intellectual Property system is properly integrated into education and effectively communicated within society.

Conclusion

The discussion surrounding polylaminin should serve to value Brazilian science while honestly exposing what needs improvement: IP education, institutional protection strategies, a culture of technology transfer, and responsibility in public communication.

The termination of a specific application does not mean “loss of the technology”; third-party exploitation requires Freedom to Operate analysis; subsequent filings may be legitimate and are part of the innovation cycle; and social understanding of the system is currently insufficient.

Innovation without understanding Intellectual Property is vulnerable innovation.

If we want a more innovative, competitive Brazil capable of transforming science into solutions, we must treat Intellectual Property with the technical rigor and institutional responsibility that the subject demands—within universities, companies, public agencies, and the media.