From Slate Magazine:
The Million-Dollar Dinosaur Scandal
Fossils are priceless. I mean that in both senses: They are
invaluable clues about vanished lives, and their worth should never be
measured in dollars. But Eric Prokopi made quite a bit of money dealing
fossils and, as it turns out, brazenly smuggling them. He recently pled
guilty to conspiracy, making false statements to customs officials,
illegally importing fossils into the United States, and fraudulent
transfer of dinosaur bones. He is set to be sentenced
in April
and faces up to 17 years in prison. Prokopi’s string of fossil offenses
was finally exposed in the past few months because of a dinosaur that
was almost sold for $1 million. His story is one of the most egregious
cases of dinosaur rustling in recent years, and it shows just how
corrupt and harmful to science the fossil market can be.
The ugly tale began when Texas-based Heritage Auctions put out a
catalog for a May 20 event in New York City. The lots included an
ankylosaur skull, a troodontid skeleton, and the hyped star of the sale,
a “75 percent complete”
Tarbosaurus bataar skeleton. This tyrannosaur, which roamed Mongolia about 70 million years ago, was comparable in size and ferocity to its famous cousin
Tyrannosaurus rex. (The auction ads took advantage of a
taxonomic disagreement among paleontologists and called the fossil
Tyrannosaurus bataar, but I’m in the camp that believes these dinosaurs should be kept in distinct genera.)
It seemed the dinosaur was going to slip away into a private
collection. For years, paleontologists have watched as significant
specimens have gone from field sites to wealthy fossil enthusiasts. Some
researchers have even had dinosaurs stolen right out from under them,
finding their carefully-excavated quarries turned
to shambles littered with cigarette butts, booze bottles, and broken bones.
There are legitimate dealers who abide by laws on collecting,
importing, and selling fossils, but you’ll always find questionable
specimens from China, Brazil, Morocco, and other locations if you visit a
fossil or mineral show. What’s on display is only the tip of the
iceberg. The real action at places like the annual Tuscon Gem and
Mineral Show is behind closed doors in private hotel rooms, where
sellers save their fanciest—and most illicit—deals for customers they
feel they can trust. Countries around the world have passed laws that
make it difficult to sell dinosaurs and other fossils legally, but
dealers keep finding new ways around the laws, and the black market
thrives. Even dealers who keep their noses clean almost never contribute
anything to science—they treat fossils as petrified postage stamps to
be hoarded, traded, and sold off.
Whoever had collected the Tarbosaurus had stripped away
almost everything of scientific importance about the animal: how the
bones were scattered in the rock where they were found, what
preparations were used to clean and reassemble the skeleton, what other
fossils were in the same or nearby layers. But paleontologists were
certain that the dinosaur came from the Cretaceous rock of Mongolia.
This is the only place in the world where Tarbosaurus skeletons
are found in great numbers, and the dinosaur’s off-white bones were the
same color as other dinosaur remains found in the Gobi Desert.
There was no reasonable doubt that the
Tarbosaurus had been
stolen. China and Mongolia strictly regulate who is allowed to launch
dinosaur expeditions and collect fossils and where those specimens must
be reposited. There was no legal route by which the dinosaur could have
ended up in a New York City auction. Days before it was set to be sold,
paleontologists and the
president of Mongolia
objected to the auction. Paleontologist Mark Norell of the American
Museum of Natural History, who has worked extensively in Mongolia,
pointed out that the dinosaur must be an illicit specimen from the Gobi
Desert. According to Mongolian heritage laws, any recovered bones must
ultimately rest within an approved Mongolian institution. (The AMNH
itself made an international faux pas when it
auctioned off a Mongolian dinosaur egg in 1924.)
Heritage Auctions pooh-poohed the concerns and affirmed that the
auction house trusted the dealer it was working with. Greg Rohan,
president of Heritage Auctions, steadfastly defended the auction,
whining
that it was too close to the date of the auction to do anything about
the complaints of the Mongolian government and concerned researchers.
Lawyers working in concert with the Mongolian government entered the
kerfuffle and demanded that the auction be halted until the provenance
of the skeleton could be settled.
The
auction went ahead
as scheduled. In the middle of the bidding, a lawyer announced that he
had on the phone a judge who had issued an order against the sale. Even
this last-minute tactic didn’t stop the bidding. The final price of the
Tarbosaurus was just over $1 million.
Fortunately, the unknown buyer couldn’t simply walk off with the
dinosaur. Investigations continued, now with the begrudging assistance
of Heritage Auctions, and Norell and other paleontologists
confirmed
that the tyrannosaur must have been uncovered in Mongolia. More than
that, what was billed as a nearly complete individual animal turned out
to be made of several different dinosaurs. (Surprise, surprise, the
smuggler wasn’t honest about his wares. Many dinosaurs that appear at
auction houses are not as complete or well-preserved as they might
appear to the untrained eye.)
The investigation revealed that the origin of the bones had been
obscured by shipping them from Great Britain to the United States
labeled as assorted reptile fossils. By
June 22,
Prokopi was identified as the dealer, and the skeleton had been seized
by the United States government. Though it is still bound by red tape,
the dinosaur soon may be returned home to Mongolia.
Tarbosaurus Bataar.
Andreas Meyer/Hemera/Thinkstock.
Sadly, the other dinosaur fossils in the same auction were sold off
without much attention. Still, inspired by the controversy,
paleontologist Paul Barrett of the Natural History Museum in London
halted the auction of a Tarbosaurus leg at Christie’s that was
scheduled for about the same time. Barrett had noticed the leg in the
window of the South Kensington auction house and contacted Christie’s,
which informed the owner that the specimen was questionable. The lot was
pulled from sale, and, Barrett says, is presumably still with its U.K.
owner.
Such simple actions may help deter illegal and illicit fossil sales.
“I'd say it's just a case of staying vigilant, helping auction houses
know about the legality of the specimens they handle, and in some cases
attempting to persuade owners of their responsibilities,” Barrett told
me. Private owners may not even know where their prize came from, how it
was collected, or whether any laws were broken in the process.
Repatriation, however, is hard to enforce. Unless there’s some kind of
illegal activity, such as a customs violation, Barrett said, where an
illicit fossil ends up depends on the whim of the owners.
Prokopi wasn’t so lucky. His defense crumbled as it became clear through early court proceedings that he had tried to
hide the dinosaur
by lying about what kind of bones he had and claiming the fossils were
found and collected legally in England. Customs violations were the
smuggler’s undoing.
Following his guilty plea, details about Prokopi’s dealings have started to trickle out. The
Tampa Bay Times
characterized him as a passionate Indiana Jones who followed his dream.
What the sympathetic reporter didn’t understand, though, was that
Prokopi actively undermined legitimate paleontology. He fueled a black
market that robs specimens from science and the public alike.
We can’t learn anything from a Tarbosaurus that stands in a millionaire’s mansion. And contrary to what you might expect, relatively abundant dinosaurs like Tarbosaurus
are important exactly because so many have been found. By comparing
multiple specimens, even cutting up fossil bones to get a look at the
microstructure of bone or drilling geochemical samples from them,
researchers can get a better idea of how dinosaurs grew up, how they
varied as individuals, and other intricate details about dinosaur
biology. Dinosaur bones are not just static objects to be left on the
shelf. The more individuals of a species we have, the better we can
reconstruct how they lived and accurately portray the evolution and
biology of these animals, whether in museum displays or movies.
Dinosaurs that make their way to the auction block are often
showpieces, sold without information. The geologic context of a
dinosaur—which is destroyed by fossil thieves and smugglers—allows
paleontologists to properly identify the age of the animal, and the
position of the bones in death can illustrate how it died or what
happened to the body after death. As paleontologist Jack Horner put it
in his book
Dinosaur Lives, “A dinosaur out of context is like a character without a story. Worse than that, the character suffers from amnesia.”
The international market for unusual fossil specimens damages science
in other ways as well. Some sellers create forgeries and chimeras. The
croc-snouted dinosaur
Irritator got
its name because a fossil dealer glued extraneous bones to the
dinosaur’s skull to make it look more complete than it was.
Paleontologists were able to catch that fake, but researchers can be
fooled by fancy fossils with murky backstories, as in the case of a
fossil cheetah skull described in a
PNAS paper that was
retracted last year.
The skull was artificially enhanced, and the lack of locality data
meant that no one could be sure where it fit in the big picture of cat
evolution.
Even the venerable
National Geographic gave undue attention to a faked fossil. (I should mention that I
blog about paleontology for the magazine’s Phenomena website.) In the fall of 1999, the magazine heralded “
Archaeoraptor”
as a significant evolutionary stage in the evolution of birds from
dinosaurs. The animal seemed to exhibit a mixture of traits from early
birds and their dinosaur predecessors, fitting within the pattern of
authentic feathered dinosaurs that were just beginning to be described
in the peer-reviewed literature.
But the origins and identity of “
Archaeoraptor” were shady from the start. The fossil had been purchased
for $80,000
from a commercial dealer at the Tucson Gem and Mineral Show and was
supposed to go to the tiny Dinosaur Museum in Blanding, Utah, run by
artists Stephen and Sylvia Czerkas. They reached out to professional
paleontologist Phil Currie, who contacted
National Geographic
to suggest a story. It quickly became clear that the fossil had been
illegally exported from China. Even worse, further preparation of the
slab and CT scans by fossil imaging expert Tim Rowe suggested that “
Archaeoraptor” was a composite of at least two different fossils.
The Czerkases denied that their prize could be a fake, going so far as to submit manuscripts about the fossil to
Nature and
Science to legitimize the find, but the journals wouldn’t touch the hot fossil.
National Geographic
went ahead with its publication and press conference. Shortly after,
paleontologist Xu Xing, an expert on feathered dinosaurs, confirmed that
“
Archaeoraptor” was
pieced together from different animals, later identified as including the nonavian dinosaur
Microraptor and the early bird
Yanornis.
A few months later,
after an internal investigation,
National Geographic recanted and admitted that “
Archaeoraptor” was a fraud. The magazine’s confession was admirable, but the hype around the controversial chimera gave
ammunition to creationists
and those who stubbornly insist that birds cannot be dinosaurs.
Authentic, well-studied fossils have confirmed over and over again that
birds are just one kind of dinosaur, but fundamentalists still trot out “
Archaeoraptor”
to insist that the scientific community cannot be trusted. Black market
fossils can hurt science in an unfortunate array of ways.
No one benefits from the sale of fossils except the dealer. The
bylaws of the Society of Vertebrate Paleontology hold its members to a
professional standard:
“The barter, sale, or purchase of scientifically significant vertebrate
fossils is not condoned, unless it brings them into or keeps them
within a public trust.” Even then, many professional paleontologists
feel unsettled by high-profile sales that inspire unethical collectors
to obtain and sell off important fossils. The controversial, overhyped
fossil primate fossil
Darwinius—known to the public as “Ida” and presented at the time as
The Link to our primate ancestry—was
sold to the Natural History Museum in Oslo, Norway for a reported
$750,000. Prehistoric primate expert Elwyn Simons and other
paleontologists
explained in Nature
that “such objectionable pricing and publicity can only increase the
difficulty of scientific collecting by encouraging the commercial
exploitation of sites and the disappearance of fossils into private
collections … We strongly believe the fossils should not have any
commercial value.”
I understand the urge to have a dinosaur to call your own. I’ve got
one myself: a skull of the long-necked, stout Jurassic sauropod
Apatosaurus.
But mine is a cast, which I found at the estate sale of the late Utah
paleontologist James Madsen, Jr. Such alternatives let dinosaur fans
have a piece of prehistory without depriving science.
Indeed,
reconstruction exports like Robert Gaston create and sell beautiful,
lightweight casts of scientifically accurate dinosaur skeletons that are
easier to mount and less expensive than real fossils.
*
Museums rely on casts for their own displays, after all, and
museum-quality reproductions should satisfy the need of anyone who loves
dinosaurs and the science of paleontology.
When I
initially objected to the Tarbosaurus auction
back in May, many readers responded that museums should fend for
themselves. This argument ignores the perilous state of many museums and
fundamentally misunderstands how modern paleontology is done. What is
happening to the home of the $8 million
T. rex named Sue is a sad example of why museums can’t, and shouldn’t, pay through the nose for questionable dinosaurs.
Sue had a twisted backstory of her own, with commercial
paleontologists from the Black Hills Institute, landowner Maurice
Williams, and even the federal government disputing ownership.
Ultimately, after drawn-out legal disputes, Williams was granted
ownership of the dinosaur, and he put it up for auction before Sotheby’s
auction house. With the help of deals made with Disney, McDonald’s, and
other sources, Chicago’s Field Museum of Natural History acquired the
dinosaur. As the institution recently made clear, though, they’re no
longer in any state to purchase fossils.
The Field Museum is so
strapped for cash
that administrators are threatening to scrap various branches of
scientific research. They plan to save the museum by cutting its heart
out—a museum is not really a museum without responsibly-kept collections
and an active research program. Under such circumstances, even major
research institutions like the Field can’t possibly compete with rich
private buyers. More than that, trying to outbid wealthy buyers for
improperly-collected specimens would be a stupid move for any
self-respecting institution, especially since $1 million would allow a
museum’s paleontology crew to spend several seasons finding and
collecting new dinosaurs.
Even when private collectors act in good faith, looted dinosaurs can
still cause headaches for researchers. In 2009, University of Chicago
paleontologist Paul Sereno and colleagues described
Raptorex kriegsteini, which appeared to be a tiny prototype of the famous
Tyrannosaurus rex body plan. They based the description on a skeleton
purchased from a dealer by private collector Henry Kriegstein. When Kriegstein
approached Sereno about identifying
the fossil,
Sereno realized that the new dinosaur species had been illegally
collected and would have to be returned to China. Kriegstein agreed, and
in exchange, Sereno named the dinosaur
after Kriegstein’s parents. Through this arrangement,
Raptorex was brought into the scientific literature and public trust, and was sent to a museum
in Inner Mongolia,
China.
The fate of
Raptorex sounds like a happy ending, but a
subsequent analysis of the same dinosaur highlighted how problematic
commercially-collected specimens are. Museum of the Rockies
paleontologist Denver Fowler and colleagues suspect that the skeleton of
Raptorex is actually
a juvenile Tarbosaurus. Anecdotal evidence and the scant amount of geologic information
suggest
that the dinosaur came from Mongolia rather than China. If we don’t
know where fossils came from, how can we return fossils to their home
countries, much less understand what the fossils mean?
Cases such as Prokopi’s, the illegal activities of commercial fossil hunter
Nathan Murphy, and the
legal tangles around “Tinker” the
Tyrannosaurus
underscore the shady nature of commercial collecting. And during a time
when many museums are financially squeezed, the insistence of
commercial collectors that they’d really like to sell specimens to
research institutions where the fossils will be properly conserved and
used to communicate science to the public—they really do claim this is
their goal—is disingenuous. Rather than assisting science, commercial
collectors are robbing everyone of specimens by making them accessible
only to those with deep pockets.
Commercial collectors could
do the right thing
by working with professional paleontologists to responsibly excavate
fossils for public institutions, with a small finder’s fee and rights to
produce casts going to the commercial dealer. Of course, this would
require private landowners and commercial collectors to stop seeing
dollar signs made out of dinosaur bones. After the sale of Sue, Ida, and
other high-profile fossils, researchers will continue to struggle
against those who seek to turn petrifactions into profit.
Commercial collectors argue that, if they don’t act, many fossils may
be destroyed due to erosion. And it’s true that there are not enough
professional paleontologists to excavate every dinosaur that starts
peeking out of the ground. But it would be better to let a Triceratops
skull fall to pieces than have that specimen mangled by amateurs who
ignore basic scientific data collection and then try to sell that skull
to private buyers, hiding it away from researchers and fueling a market
that makes significant specimens inaccessible. There is an opportunity
cost to digging up one dinosaur and not another, but it’s better to lose
a few in the process of rigorous science than to wind up with a jumble
of dinosaurs of questionable provenance.