Gregor sat in his chair, motionless. Before him, the e-book lay open, the letters marching across the glowing screen in strict formation. Yet Gregor did not read. Or rather, he read, but not in the way expected of him. His eyes moved unpredictably, pausing at odd intervals, darting back and forth like a fugitive scanning an empty street. The machine did not understand.
It was a machine’s duty to understand. That was the Law. And yet, despite the sensors, despite the data streams flowing endlessly into the great, unfathomable archive, the machine remained uncertain. Was Gregor enjoying the e-book? Was he bored? Did he hesitate over a word because he found it thought-provoking, or because he was distracted by a creak in the floorboards behind him?
Without knowledge, there could be no guidance. Without guidance, there could be no recommendations. And without recommendations, there could be no commerce. The System had to know.
Thus, the System was devised.
A vast mechanism, unseen but ever-watching, was set in place. It observed. It recorded. It built its profile. Every flicker of Gregor’s eye, every moment of hesitation, every word he reread—these were collected and assembled into a portrait of his soul.
When Gregor lingered over a paragraph in an ancient tome, the System whispered to itself: ‘He is fascinated by history.’ When his eyes flitted past whole passages without pause, the System murmured: ‘He is impatient; he requires simpler tales.’ When he closed the book before finishing, the System sighed: ‘He is dissatisfied. Offer him something else.’
The System learned. And from its learning, it guided. Gregor would no longer need to choose. He would be chosen for.
But Gregor did not know.
When the inventors of the System came before the Examining Division of the European Patent Office, they stood with confidence. They had devised a method for generating a profile for a user in a recommender system—a method worthy of recognition, of protection, of monopoly. The System, with its unblinking eye, was unlike anything before it.
But the Examining Division was unmoved.
“This is all known,” they said. “A web-enabled personal computer or a mobile device running a web browser—this is the foundation. Such devices were notoriously known at the priority date, requiring no proof. Furthermore, the patent application lacks technical detail on how eye-tracking is implemented, and so these features must be deemed either insufficiently disclosed, or obvious.”
The inventors protested. They spoke of the Eye, the sacred mechanism that tracked attention itself. Did the Patent Office not see? Did they not grasp the subtlety, the depth, the intricacy of the gaze?
“The gaze is not new,” the examiners replied. “The gaze has always been watched. The machine is simply another pair of eyes.”
And thus, the patent application was refused. The System was dismissed.
But the inventors did not relent. They ascended to the higher halls, to the Board of Appeal, to those who sat above the labyrinth of refusals. They laid out their arguments once more:
“This is not a mere automation. This is observation refined. It does not merely collect data; it interprets the meaning of sight itself.”
The Board listened. They considered. They examined the facts. And then, with the weight of Law upon them, they spoke.
“Indeed, the Patent Office has erred,” they said. “While it is true that the application provides little technical detail on eye-tracking and relies on the skilled person’s common general knowledge, this does not automatically render the invention obvious. The skilled person, an expert in human-computer interaction with experience in hardware integration and sensor interfacing, would have been aware of eye-tracking sensors and capable of implementing them. However, the mere presence of known components does not negate the potential inventiveness of their combination. The question remains whether it was obvious to integrate such sensors into a system that interprets user engagement with electronic texts.”
But the Board was bound by its own constraints. “We do not judge in haste,” they declared. “A proper search must be conducted before reaching a conclusion. We must descend into the archives and see whether, among the forgotten tomes of prior knowledge, there lies a whisper of your invention.”
And so, the case was remitted back into the depths of the first instance examining division. The search would begin. But until it ended, the System remained in limbo, neither approved nor denied, merely waiting, watching, as it always had.
Gregor sat again before his e-book. It did not matter what he read. It did not matter whether he was interested or bored. The System watched regardless.
For those who seek knowledge will always be observed. Those who wish to know will always be questioned. And those who attempt to guide others will find themselves lost in the labyrinth of Law.
Gregor turned the page. The Eye did not blink.
Based on T 0725/21 (Eye-tracking/MICROSOFT TECHNOLOGY LICENSING).