And a named apple is a patentable apple, as Olivia’s father would tell her. She once fought with him over a case of his. He was helping a transnational company prosecute a farmer who’d saved some of last year’s soybean crop and replanted, without paying royalties again. She was outraged. “You can’t own the rights to a living thing!”

“You can. You should. Protecting intellectual property creates wealth.”

“What about the soybean? Who’s paying the soybean for its intellectual property?”