There's a perverse comfort in being behind, but that doesn't mean we shouldn't at least try to deal with it
Depending on which estimate you believe, there's currently a worldwide backlog of between 4m and 10m patent applications. That's 4m to 10m potentially revolutionary inventions, from life-saving drugs to solar-powered pencil sharpeners, piling up on patent examiners' desks. And the number is growing all the time. If the US patent office closed its doors tomorrow, it would take its staff two years to clear America's share of the backlog, and by the time they finished, a new one would have accumulated. As most of us know from our own backlogs – of email, of things to read, or sundry uncompleted tasks – this way of life is a vicious cycle, because backlogs generate overheads, which means less time to stay on top of incoming work: you have to run faster just to stand still. When you email someone to say you'll respond to their email properly later, that's more work. In September, the world's patent officials gathered in Geneva for a two-day symposium on deali