Threat to Shopsite users?
Posted: Sun Feb 09, 2003 12:38 pm
The following story appeared in LA Times yesterday. It is frightening
to think about how this could affect Shopsite users. Oddly enough Open
Market is mentioned in the article as well. Checkout
http://youmaybenext.com for other related info.
Has this subject been discussed here? What can we do??
-Roger
SECOND OF TWO PARTS
E-Commerce Battles 'Me'-Commerce
A lone patent holder asserts vast rights over shopping on the Web.
Others call it extortion.
By David Streitfeld, LA Times Staff Writer
It took seven years and tens of thousands of dollars in legal fees, but
Lawrence Lockwood was finally awarded U.S. Patent No. 6,289,319 in
September 2001. The former San Diego travel agent believed that the
patent, for an "automatic business and financial transaction processing
system," gave him significant control over shopping on the Internet. He
promptly sent letters to 100 e-commerce firms, saying they were
violating his new patent as well as one from 1996. He politely suggested
they buy a license from him for $10,000, although he hinted that the
price was negotiable. Ten companies told him to get lost. The 90 others
didn't bother to reply. "American businesses do not respond when you ask
them nicely," Lockwood said. So he started suing them -- a New Jersey
plumbing supply company, a New York ski shop, an Oregon fabric store.
This has gotten their attention, and often their money too. Lockwood's
targets complain that he is practicing "legalized extortion," an
accusation he denies. "If you saw someone infringe property rights given
you by the U.S. government, what would you do?" he asked. "Move forward
and try to enforce your rights? Or just throw them down the drain?"
Lockwood, whose firm is called PanIP, is one of a new group of patent
holders who say they own the rights to key Internet technologies. They
are blanketing hundreds of small and large Web sites with lawsuits,
threats of suits and demands for licensing payments. A former CIA
technology officer is bringing EBay Inc. to trial this spring, claiming
that the hugely successful trading site is infringing an online auction
patent he applied for in 1995 -- six months before EBay began. Charles
E. Hill & Associates, a software firm, is suing 18 e-commerce companies,
including EBay, alleging that they violated its patents on an
"electronic-catalog system" and a "method of updating a remote
computer." Acacia Research Corp. in Newport Beach has filed legal
complaints against 27 adult entertainment Web sites, alleging that they
violated its patents on "the transmission and receipt of digital audio
and/or video content." The company is demanding licenses from mainstream
music and movie companies too. All these lawsuits were predictable, said
Jonathan Hangartner, a patent lawyer with Sheppard, Mullin, Richter &
Hampton in San Diego who represents a group of PanIP defendants.
"Anytime there's a major technological breakthrough, there's a spike in
patent litigation," Hangartner said. "It happened with automobiles,
telephones, trains. Now it's the Internet's turn." Proliferation of
Patents The U.S. Patent and Trademark Office has been generous in
assigning Internet-related patents, nearly all of which involve systems,
procedures or methods of doing things rather than actual physical
inventions. Lockwood's September 2001 patent, for example, outlines how
a group of self-service terminals could be connected via telephone to a
central processor at a financial institution. The patent, which was
filed in 1994, specifies a method of screening loan applications, but in
a loose sense the system it describes also resembles the Web. It is far
from the only patent that either touches on the Web or might seem to do
so. "If you're selling online, at the most recent count there are 4,319
patents you could be violating," said David E. Martin, chief executive
of M-Cam Inc., an Arlington, Va.-based risk-management firm specializing
in patents. "If you also planned to advertise, receive payments for or
plan shipments of your goods, you would need to be concerned about
approximately 11,000." Patents used to be far down on a Web merchant's
list of worries. A patent, which is essentially a government-sanctioned
right to a monopoly on a process or invention, went against the early
spirit of the Internet. "The Web was a freewheeling,
low-barrier-to-entry, everyone- can-copy-from-everyone-else place, which
was a powerful model that took us a long way," said Tim O'Reilly, a
computer manual publisher. "There was a lot of innovation as people got
up to the level of their competitors and said, 'What can I do to
leapfrog that?' " These days it can be a better financial model for
Internet companies to license patents rather than build something new.
Chicago-based Divine Inc. went public in 2000 as an Internet incubator,
a company that would spawn other companies. When that possibility
evaporated in the stock market slump, Divine tried to reinvent itself as
a software consulting and services firm. In late 2001, Divine acquired
Open Market Inc., an e-commerce trailblazer that had fallen on even
harder times. Among Open Market's assets were a number of patents,
including one filed in 1994 and granted in 1998 for a "network-based
sales system." It resembles that ubiquitous e-commerce tool, the
shopping basket. "The universe of potential infringers is the universe
of people doing e-business," said Divine general counsel Jude Sullivan.
He said the company had issued about 150 licenses. Ken Burke, who runs a
Web design firm in Petaluma, said Divine started sending
cease-and-desist letters to his clients in September. "Just answering
the letters would have required a $60,000 retainer for lawyers," Burke
said. So he willingly, even eagerly, paid Divine an undisclosed
six-figure fee for a license that covered all 100 of his clients,
including Beringer Vineyards, Big Dog Sportswear, Whitman's chocolates
and Pet Food Express. "It kind of stinks," Burke said. "I knew settling
would strengthen Divine's case against other people. But it was a good
business decision." He has just one worry. "We're vulnerable now. We run
the risk of being a prime target of PanIP," Lockwood's firm. "When does
it stop?" Few Cases Go to Trial Lawrence Lockwood has two points he
wants to make clear: He's in the top ranks of inventors, and he doesn't
understand what all this fuss is about. When the patent office is
deciding whether to issue a patent, it checks the "prior art" --
previously issued patents that are relevant to the current application.
It then lists these as references in the new patent. Lockwood says his
1982 patent for a "self-service terminal" has been used as a reference
by the patent office 122 times. "A highly cited patent corresponds to a
Nobel Prize winner," he said while eating a sandwich at a Coco's
restaurant near the La Jolla house where he grew up and still lives.
Fewer than 5% of patent cases make it to trial. Although some of the
rest are dismissed by a judge, most are settled out of court. That was
the route taken by the first 10 Web companies Lockwood sued last spring
in U.S. District Court in San Diego, alleging they violated his 1996 and
2001 patents on automated sales and processing systems. "Every one of us
was so small," said one of the defendants. "None of us knew about the
others. The scheme was beautiful in its simplicity." The price of a
license was supposedly $30,000, but that was just an opening gambit. A
few firms settled right off by paying a fraction of that, but five of
the companies learned they weren't alone and banded together. They hired
a lawyer, set up a Web site. But after six months they too came to
terms. "It became a money thing," said one participant, who spoke on
condition of anonymity because the settlement terms forbid him from
discussing it. "We gained a lot of efficiency simply by being in a
group, but $750,000 to $1 million could still get spilled." The total
probably would have been even greater if the case had gone to court. In
1999, the American Intellectual Property Law Assn. said the average
patent infringement case in California cost each party $2 million.
Lockwood took the summer off, then resumed litigation at a fast pace.
Between Aug. 30 and Oct. 4, he filed lawsuits against 40 Web sites.
Aside from the fact that none was within easy driving distance of the
San Diego court, they seemed to have little in common. They ranged from
Can-Do National Tape in Nashville, Tenn., to Advanced Battery Systems
Inc. in Stoughton, Mass., to Caffe Vita Coffee Roasting Co. in Seattle.
Such a broad spectrum of retailing lends weight to the defendants'
assertion that Lockwood claims control of all e-commerce. (PanIP's full
name, Pangea Intellectual Properties, might also be a clue here.
"Pangea" is Greek for "all of the Earth.") Lockwood says his patents
apply only to a specific segment of online sales. He would not identify
it but promises it eventually would be revealed in court. He won't say
much about himself, either. He declined to be photographed or to furnish
even such basic information as his age. His desire to keep a low profile
was reinforced after online vigilantes electronically harassed him,
defacing his Web site. "It's an elementary school type of thing," he
said. "They're also making wild statements. But patent cases are decided
in the courts, not in the court of public opinion." Lockwood graduated
from La Jolla High in 1965 and attended three area colleges and
universities, pursuing liberal arts studies without receiving a degree.
During much of the 1970s, he worked for his father's small travel agency
as well as his father's printing shop. That information comes from
depositions in a lawsuit Lockwood filed in the early 1990s against
American Airlines, claiming its Sabre reservation system was infringing
three patents he had been granted in the early 1980s. Asked by
American's lawyers what he did for a living, Lockwood replied, "I'm
currently litigating my patents." For money to eat every day, he added,
"I assist my family in leasing office space." He said he had "never, for
any length of time, used a personal computer." The case was dismissed,
and significant parts of the patents were invalidated. Lockwood called
it "a very expensive learning process." With the Internet, he said, his
contribution was "a layering or improving." In other words, he realized
that the early text-only Internet soon would include graphics, and he
sought patents in that area. But his interest in the commercial Web is
professional, not personal. Lockwood said he doesn't shop online. One
thing his critics are missing, he says, is that he's taking the more
restrained path. "A patent holder can either create a monopoly or he can
license," Lockwood said. "What these people would really be crying about
is if I said, 'You cannot sell on your Web site whatsoever and I want it
discontinued.' " But for at least one defendant, the lawsuit produced
just that result. River City Meat, a Missouri-based wholesaler, pulled
down its Web site after getting sued. Lockwood, of course, doesn't want
companies to shut their Web sites. If they do, he doesn't get paid. He
suggests they think of his licenses as an inevitable part of doing
business, "like their telephone bill or the sign they have in front of
their establishment." And if they don't like it, their complaint is
really with the system, not him. James E. Rogan, director of the U.S.
Patent and Trademark Office, declined to address specific patents. But
he noted that, in general, a claim of infringement is not necessarily
true. "There's a whole cottage industry of shysters out there," he said.
Rogan's advice for those who believe they are being exploited: Get a
lawyer. Lockwood says that's good advice -- for anyone who wants to
commit financial suicide. "Do they really want to spend $1 million and
two years of their life to invalidate a patent they can license for a
couple of thousand dollars?" he asked. "People get divorced over this
stuff. They have strokes over this." Making a Stand About half of the 40
latest defendants decided, however unwillingly, that Lockwood had a
point and bought licenses for as much as $5,000. More were on the verge
of coming to the same conclusion, until a guy who spent his days making
mint meltaways, orange creams, white pecan truffles and breakup bark
decided the whole thing stuck in his craw. Like many small businesses,
DeBrand Fine Chocolates was born out of love. Cathy Brand, whose family
sold cake-decorating and candy supplies, started making chocolates at
age 8. In 1987, when she was 25, she began selling them from her
family's Fort Wayne, Ind., home. Tim Beere was in marketing and
advertising when he married Cathy but was drawn into the chocolate
business. The couple now has three stores, with a fourth on the way, and
a thriving Web operation. PanIP's lawsuit was delivered to their offices
in early September. An accompanying letter, written by Lockwood's
lawyer, informed the Beeres that they had 45 days to pay a "very
reasonable" and "nonnegotiable" $5,000 for a lifetime license to his
patents. Cathy describes the 43-year-old Tim as the calmer, more
easygoing and more patient one in the relationship. The lawsuit upset
both of them, but she was the one most inclined to settle. She knew what
it would cost to fight it. Tim Beere may be as relaxed as his wife says,
but he didn't like being pushed around. "It was like a bully promising a
little kid, 'I'll protect you if you give me your lunch money,' " he
said. "These patents don't apply to our Web site. No person I've talked
to seems to even think it's a possibility." Proving this, however, would
be arduous. To make sure the Beeres knew it, Lockwood included some news
clippings with his letter and lawsuit. "Supreme Court Bolsters
Protections for Patents," read a headline in the Los Angeles Times. Tim
Beere did some research on the Web. He learned about some of the
defendants -- the ones who tried to fight back. He hired their lawyer,
Hangartner of Sheppard, Mullin. He began calling the other defendants,
introducing himself, laboriously stitching together a defense group of
15 companies. He became a little obsessed. He would wake in the middle
of the night, stewing. The Beeres set up a Web site, first called
PANIPdefendants .net and then Youmaybenext .com, which offered
information about PanIP's lawsuit and solicited donations. Lockwood's
response was to sue the Beeres again, this time for trademark
infringement and defamation. Tim Beere says he is undaunted. "My goal is
to send a message that one person can stand up for what's right and make
a difference. Imagine how much better things could be if more people
believed that," he said. The patent infringement case is getting ready
to begin its long trip through the courts. The defamation and trademark
case has been narrowed but continues as well. Lockwood is serene. "If I
win, I have a patent that has been validated by the court system," he
said. "It will be a very powerful weapon. And if they win, they get
nothing. Absolutely nothing."
to think about how this could affect Shopsite users. Oddly enough Open
Market is mentioned in the article as well. Checkout
http://youmaybenext.com for other related info.
Has this subject been discussed here? What can we do??
-Roger
SECOND OF TWO PARTS
E-Commerce Battles 'Me'-Commerce
A lone patent holder asserts vast rights over shopping on the Web.
Others call it extortion.
By David Streitfeld, LA Times Staff Writer
It took seven years and tens of thousands of dollars in legal fees, but
Lawrence Lockwood was finally awarded U.S. Patent No. 6,289,319 in
September 2001. The former San Diego travel agent believed that the
patent, for an "automatic business and financial transaction processing
system," gave him significant control over shopping on the Internet. He
promptly sent letters to 100 e-commerce firms, saying they were
violating his new patent as well as one from 1996. He politely suggested
they buy a license from him for $10,000, although he hinted that the
price was negotiable. Ten companies told him to get lost. The 90 others
didn't bother to reply. "American businesses do not respond when you ask
them nicely," Lockwood said. So he started suing them -- a New Jersey
plumbing supply company, a New York ski shop, an Oregon fabric store.
This has gotten their attention, and often their money too. Lockwood's
targets complain that he is practicing "legalized extortion," an
accusation he denies. "If you saw someone infringe property rights given
you by the U.S. government, what would you do?" he asked. "Move forward
and try to enforce your rights? Or just throw them down the drain?"
Lockwood, whose firm is called PanIP, is one of a new group of patent
holders who say they own the rights to key Internet technologies. They
are blanketing hundreds of small and large Web sites with lawsuits,
threats of suits and demands for licensing payments. A former CIA
technology officer is bringing EBay Inc. to trial this spring, claiming
that the hugely successful trading site is infringing an online auction
patent he applied for in 1995 -- six months before EBay began. Charles
E. Hill & Associates, a software firm, is suing 18 e-commerce companies,
including EBay, alleging that they violated its patents on an
"electronic-catalog system" and a "method of updating a remote
computer." Acacia Research Corp. in Newport Beach has filed legal
complaints against 27 adult entertainment Web sites, alleging that they
violated its patents on "the transmission and receipt of digital audio
and/or video content." The company is demanding licenses from mainstream
music and movie companies too. All these lawsuits were predictable, said
Jonathan Hangartner, a patent lawyer with Sheppard, Mullin, Richter &
Hampton in San Diego who represents a group of PanIP defendants.
"Anytime there's a major technological breakthrough, there's a spike in
patent litigation," Hangartner said. "It happened with automobiles,
telephones, trains. Now it's the Internet's turn." Proliferation of
Patents The U.S. Patent and Trademark Office has been generous in
assigning Internet-related patents, nearly all of which involve systems,
procedures or methods of doing things rather than actual physical
inventions. Lockwood's September 2001 patent, for example, outlines how
a group of self-service terminals could be connected via telephone to a
central processor at a financial institution. The patent, which was
filed in 1994, specifies a method of screening loan applications, but in
a loose sense the system it describes also resembles the Web. It is far
from the only patent that either touches on the Web or might seem to do
so. "If you're selling online, at the most recent count there are 4,319
patents you could be violating," said David E. Martin, chief executive
of M-Cam Inc., an Arlington, Va.-based risk-management firm specializing
in patents. "If you also planned to advertise, receive payments for or
plan shipments of your goods, you would need to be concerned about
approximately 11,000." Patents used to be far down on a Web merchant's
list of worries. A patent, which is essentially a government-sanctioned
right to a monopoly on a process or invention, went against the early
spirit of the Internet. "The Web was a freewheeling,
low-barrier-to-entry, everyone- can-copy-from-everyone-else place, which
was a powerful model that took us a long way," said Tim O'Reilly, a
computer manual publisher. "There was a lot of innovation as people got
up to the level of their competitors and said, 'What can I do to
leapfrog that?' " These days it can be a better financial model for
Internet companies to license patents rather than build something new.
Chicago-based Divine Inc. went public in 2000 as an Internet incubator,
a company that would spawn other companies. When that possibility
evaporated in the stock market slump, Divine tried to reinvent itself as
a software consulting and services firm. In late 2001, Divine acquired
Open Market Inc., an e-commerce trailblazer that had fallen on even
harder times. Among Open Market's assets were a number of patents,
including one filed in 1994 and granted in 1998 for a "network-based
sales system." It resembles that ubiquitous e-commerce tool, the
shopping basket. "The universe of potential infringers is the universe
of people doing e-business," said Divine general counsel Jude Sullivan.
He said the company had issued about 150 licenses. Ken Burke, who runs a
Web design firm in Petaluma, said Divine started sending
cease-and-desist letters to his clients in September. "Just answering
the letters would have required a $60,000 retainer for lawyers," Burke
said. So he willingly, even eagerly, paid Divine an undisclosed
six-figure fee for a license that covered all 100 of his clients,
including Beringer Vineyards, Big Dog Sportswear, Whitman's chocolates
and Pet Food Express. "It kind of stinks," Burke said. "I knew settling
would strengthen Divine's case against other people. But it was a good
business decision." He has just one worry. "We're vulnerable now. We run
the risk of being a prime target of PanIP," Lockwood's firm. "When does
it stop?" Few Cases Go to Trial Lawrence Lockwood has two points he
wants to make clear: He's in the top ranks of inventors, and he doesn't
understand what all this fuss is about. When the patent office is
deciding whether to issue a patent, it checks the "prior art" --
previously issued patents that are relevant to the current application.
It then lists these as references in the new patent. Lockwood says his
1982 patent for a "self-service terminal" has been used as a reference
by the patent office 122 times. "A highly cited patent corresponds to a
Nobel Prize winner," he said while eating a sandwich at a Coco's
restaurant near the La Jolla house where he grew up and still lives.
Fewer than 5% of patent cases make it to trial. Although some of the
rest are dismissed by a judge, most are settled out of court. That was
the route taken by the first 10 Web companies Lockwood sued last spring
in U.S. District Court in San Diego, alleging they violated his 1996 and
2001 patents on automated sales and processing systems. "Every one of us
was so small," said one of the defendants. "None of us knew about the
others. The scheme was beautiful in its simplicity." The price of a
license was supposedly $30,000, but that was just an opening gambit. A
few firms settled right off by paying a fraction of that, but five of
the companies learned they weren't alone and banded together. They hired
a lawyer, set up a Web site. But after six months they too came to
terms. "It became a money thing," said one participant, who spoke on
condition of anonymity because the settlement terms forbid him from
discussing it. "We gained a lot of efficiency simply by being in a
group, but $750,000 to $1 million could still get spilled." The total
probably would have been even greater if the case had gone to court. In
1999, the American Intellectual Property Law Assn. said the average
patent infringement case in California cost each party $2 million.
Lockwood took the summer off, then resumed litigation at a fast pace.
Between Aug. 30 and Oct. 4, he filed lawsuits against 40 Web sites.
Aside from the fact that none was within easy driving distance of the
San Diego court, they seemed to have little in common. They ranged from
Can-Do National Tape in Nashville, Tenn., to Advanced Battery Systems
Inc. in Stoughton, Mass., to Caffe Vita Coffee Roasting Co. in Seattle.
Such a broad spectrum of retailing lends weight to the defendants'
assertion that Lockwood claims control of all e-commerce. (PanIP's full
name, Pangea Intellectual Properties, might also be a clue here.
"Pangea" is Greek for "all of the Earth.") Lockwood says his patents
apply only to a specific segment of online sales. He would not identify
it but promises it eventually would be revealed in court. He won't say
much about himself, either. He declined to be photographed or to furnish
even such basic information as his age. His desire to keep a low profile
was reinforced after online vigilantes electronically harassed him,
defacing his Web site. "It's an elementary school type of thing," he
said. "They're also making wild statements. But patent cases are decided
in the courts, not in the court of public opinion." Lockwood graduated
from La Jolla High in 1965 and attended three area colleges and
universities, pursuing liberal arts studies without receiving a degree.
During much of the 1970s, he worked for his father's small travel agency
as well as his father's printing shop. That information comes from
depositions in a lawsuit Lockwood filed in the early 1990s against
American Airlines, claiming its Sabre reservation system was infringing
three patents he had been granted in the early 1980s. Asked by
American's lawyers what he did for a living, Lockwood replied, "I'm
currently litigating my patents." For money to eat every day, he added,
"I assist my family in leasing office space." He said he had "never, for
any length of time, used a personal computer." The case was dismissed,
and significant parts of the patents were invalidated. Lockwood called
it "a very expensive learning process." With the Internet, he said, his
contribution was "a layering or improving." In other words, he realized
that the early text-only Internet soon would include graphics, and he
sought patents in that area. But his interest in the commercial Web is
professional, not personal. Lockwood said he doesn't shop online. One
thing his critics are missing, he says, is that he's taking the more
restrained path. "A patent holder can either create a monopoly or he can
license," Lockwood said. "What these people would really be crying about
is if I said, 'You cannot sell on your Web site whatsoever and I want it
discontinued.' " But for at least one defendant, the lawsuit produced
just that result. River City Meat, a Missouri-based wholesaler, pulled
down its Web site after getting sued. Lockwood, of course, doesn't want
companies to shut their Web sites. If they do, he doesn't get paid. He
suggests they think of his licenses as an inevitable part of doing
business, "like their telephone bill or the sign they have in front of
their establishment." And if they don't like it, their complaint is
really with the system, not him. James E. Rogan, director of the U.S.
Patent and Trademark Office, declined to address specific patents. But
he noted that, in general, a claim of infringement is not necessarily
true. "There's a whole cottage industry of shysters out there," he said.
Rogan's advice for those who believe they are being exploited: Get a
lawyer. Lockwood says that's good advice -- for anyone who wants to
commit financial suicide. "Do they really want to spend $1 million and
two years of their life to invalidate a patent they can license for a
couple of thousand dollars?" he asked. "People get divorced over this
stuff. They have strokes over this." Making a Stand About half of the 40
latest defendants decided, however unwillingly, that Lockwood had a
point and bought licenses for as much as $5,000. More were on the verge
of coming to the same conclusion, until a guy who spent his days making
mint meltaways, orange creams, white pecan truffles and breakup bark
decided the whole thing stuck in his craw. Like many small businesses,
DeBrand Fine Chocolates was born out of love. Cathy Brand, whose family
sold cake-decorating and candy supplies, started making chocolates at
age 8. In 1987, when she was 25, she began selling them from her
family's Fort Wayne, Ind., home. Tim Beere was in marketing and
advertising when he married Cathy but was drawn into the chocolate
business. The couple now has three stores, with a fourth on the way, and
a thriving Web operation. PanIP's lawsuit was delivered to their offices
in early September. An accompanying letter, written by Lockwood's
lawyer, informed the Beeres that they had 45 days to pay a "very
reasonable" and "nonnegotiable" $5,000 for a lifetime license to his
patents. Cathy describes the 43-year-old Tim as the calmer, more
easygoing and more patient one in the relationship. The lawsuit upset
both of them, but she was the one most inclined to settle. She knew what
it would cost to fight it. Tim Beere may be as relaxed as his wife says,
but he didn't like being pushed around. "It was like a bully promising a
little kid, 'I'll protect you if you give me your lunch money,' " he
said. "These patents don't apply to our Web site. No person I've talked
to seems to even think it's a possibility." Proving this, however, would
be arduous. To make sure the Beeres knew it, Lockwood included some news
clippings with his letter and lawsuit. "Supreme Court Bolsters
Protections for Patents," read a headline in the Los Angeles Times. Tim
Beere did some research on the Web. He learned about some of the
defendants -- the ones who tried to fight back. He hired their lawyer,
Hangartner of Sheppard, Mullin. He began calling the other defendants,
introducing himself, laboriously stitching together a defense group of
15 companies. He became a little obsessed. He would wake in the middle
of the night, stewing. The Beeres set up a Web site, first called
PANIPdefendants .net and then Youmaybenext .com, which offered
information about PanIP's lawsuit and solicited donations. Lockwood's
response was to sue the Beeres again, this time for trademark
infringement and defamation. Tim Beere says he is undaunted. "My goal is
to send a message that one person can stand up for what's right and make
a difference. Imagine how much better things could be if more people
believed that," he said. The patent infringement case is getting ready
to begin its long trip through the courts. The defamation and trademark
case has been narrowed but continues as well. Lockwood is serene. "If I
win, I have a patent that has been validated by the court system," he
said. "It will be a very powerful weapon. And if they win, they get
nothing. Absolutely nothing."