I don't see this case as determining the patent eligibility of biological material generally, nor about answering what happens if patented seed contaminates you

I don't see this case as determining the patent eligibility of biological material generally, nor about answering what happens if patented seed contaminates your field. I feel those issues are driving interest in Monsanto cases, but this isn't one of them. I'll take a stab at explaining why this was a really boring case. Roughly, the law allows you to use a patented object as you see fit, that's the "exhaustion doctrine." Patents aren't a full license that controls every aspect of the owners use of an object, it just prevents copying. Well, ok, what if typical use of the object makes a new copy? Here, the patented object is a seed, where its main inherent function is self-duplication. You could use it for other things, as filler for bean bag chairs, as fuel for a massive fire, as feed, whatever. But the main thing seeds do is reproduce themselves. So does the exhaustion doctrine apply? No. The patent system is mainly a DO NOT COPY law. It's not mainly a USE THINGS YOU OWN law. The exhaustion doctrine is an artifact, a patch, to keep DO NOT COPY from getting out of hand. It should surprise no one what when asked if the DO NOT COPY law means DO NOT COPY, that SCOTUS should reply, "Why, yes, it means exactly that." I'm not a huge fan of the way Monsanto has aggressively leveraged bio patents against some farmers. Hell, I'm skeptical of the economic utility of state granted monopolies in general. But this case was never realistically addressing any of that. We had a knowing infringer, so none of the most abusive practices. The broader bio patent theories are very well established. (This isn't SCOTUS's first time at the bio patent rodeo.) The case was a "could you repeat your definition?" "Sure, here's that same definition."