I've worked with software patents on and off for roughly twenty years, but sometimes a different environment stimulates fresh thinking. In this case, as I sat there trying not to giggle while several teeth were ground to nubbins, it struck me that this experience resembled, in a surprising number of ways, the experience of software professionals working on patents. So... what do patent and dental work have in common?
It's rarely as bad as you expect. It's very unlikely that you'll be jumping for joy as you walk into the office of the dentist or patent lawyer. More likely, you'll be dreading it more than it deserves. Neither activity is a goal you're pursuing, but more of an inevitable necessity for pursuing the larger goal of a healthy mouth or a prosperous software company. Whether your motivation is kisses or cash, there's often a few less pleasant steps along the way. The biggest fears tend to be the unknown -- your first root canal, your first patent claims to decode or write -- because you don't know what you're getting into. It's rarely as bad as you fear, so it helps to focus on the big picture.
It's a lot better than it used to be. Paradoxically, it can be comforting to reflect on how bad things used to be. In the case of dentistry, the improvements are obvious. The improvements in the patent system have been more modest, recent, and real. Since the 1990's, for example, the US patent office has added thousands of examiners and worked to better train them, while the courts have cut back on some of the worst absurdities, such as business model patents.
If you're wondering whether you need to go, you do. Now. Dental problems almost never get better over time, and the magnitude of the required fix can grow steadily. With patents, the situation is even more dire: Alexander Graham Bell raced Elisha Gray to the patent office, filing the same day. The guy who got the patent is the one you've heard of. When you have a good idea, you shouldn't dither, but should go to the patent lawyer at the earliest possible opportunity, to get the patent filed at the earliest possible date.
Don't let emotion deprive you of the best outcome. We all know people who are terrified of the dentist, and we all know how they suffer with dental pain until it is unbearable, and then suffer more extensive work than they would have needed when the trouble began. Similarly, there are many people who are so convinced that the patent system is evil -- often with strong arguments -- that they are incapable of understanding and acting on the aspects of the system that can harm them later.
Go with a pro. I have a friend whose dental plan consists of -- and I'm not making this up -- waiting until a tooth hurts so much he can't stand it, and then having the dentist do a quick, cheap yank. I have also known people who have tried to go through the entire patent process without once consulting a patent lawyer. The first approach actually works fairly well until you start running out of teeth. But without a patent lawyer, you don't even know when you're toothless. (But you can still be frugal -- a topic for another day.)
Keep the pro in perspective. There are a lot of good dentists and patent attorneys in the world. You of course want the best you can find, but a search for "the best" quickly yields diminishing returns. Even the best make mistakes sometimes, and even the worst have successes, so you're throwing yourself at the mercy of randomness and fate. Finding the very best is less important than quickly finding one you are comfortable working with. You may be spending a lot of time together.
Respect the professional and his profession. Most important, remember that your chosen professional is also a human being. Dentists commit suicide at the highest rate of any profession, for the unfair but obvious reason. I don't know if the suicide rate among patent attorneys is particularly high -- probably not, since the general public doesn't understand them enough to hate or fear them -- but I'm sure there are people who wish it were.
Bribe and reward. I'm old enough that when I was a child, my dentist would give us candy after our cleanings, if we had behaved well. People are astonishingly susceptable to this kind of bribery -- my academic friends say free cookies are the best way to fill a room with eminent scientists. IBM, the largest patentholder in the world by a long shot, rewards its employees with cold hard cash for participating in the patent process. Mimecast had a similar policy within a month of my arrival; I tip my barrister's wig to Big Blue.
Keep it in perspective. Even if the work turns out to be lengthy and costly, remind yourself it's only a tiny fraction of your life. Accept that now and then you need to put a whole lot of attention and effort into a somewhat unpleasant and mostly unimportant-looking thing that is actually crucial in the long run.
Be geeky. If you can focus on the technical aspects, it's actually pretty interesting. The dentist has a new tool nearly every time you get a checkup. Patents are written in a Kabuki prose that reflects, arhaeologically, the tortured history of patent law.
Don't expect everything to be the same in other countries. It won't, so be careful what you swallow and where you spit.
Of course, no analogy is perfect, and there are inevitably a few differences between patent and dental work. Most obviously: dental work generally produces good results fairly quickly. Patent applications can take years, with poorer average results. This might not be so bad, were it not for another key difference: patent attorneys rarely offer nitrous oxide to their clients! The progressive CIO might want to consider raising this issue with the HR team.