Hollywood stars aren’t just interested in blockbuster scripts and shiny gold statues anymore. Nope, the latest status symbol among the A-listers is a bit older—like 65 million years older. Dinosaur bones are apparently the new must-have accessory, and it’s got paleontologists breaking out in a cold sweat.
Leonardo DiCaprio, Nicolas Cage, and Russell Crowe are leading this bizarre fossil frenzy, treating prehistoric relics like Pokémon cards. The Wall Street Journal reports that these actors have even gotten into bidding wars over these ancient prizes. Picture Nicolas Cage outbidding Leo for a rare dino skull—it’s a rivalry that’s already much better than Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom. Honestly, if we find out the illegal dino auction plot from Fallen Kingdom is a true story and the 1% already have a dino-petting zoo hidden away on a secluded island, well, let’s just say we wouldn’t be too surprised. Probably somewhere off the coast of Costa Rica… but hey, not ripping off Michael Crichton here, just spitballing.
The madness doesn’t stop there. Russell Crowe told Howard Stern he once bought a dinosaur skull from DiCaprio for \$35,000. Apparently, the deal went down during a vodka-soaked late-night chat, which is exactly the kind of life decision most of us make after too much tequila—except instead of regrettable Amazon purchases, it’s extinct species. If “dino skulls exchanged between drunken movie stars at 2 AM” isn’t the most Hollywood thing you’ve heard all week, then we need to talk.
And now, the latest record-breaker in the land of fossil flexing is none other than billionaire Ken Griffin, who dropped \$44.6 million on a nearly complete Stegosaurus skeleton this past July. Yes, \$44.6 million—for a pile of very, very old bones. Sotheby’s, always the opportunist, saw this coming and launched a science and pop culture department in 2021. They’re now peddling dino bones alongside space memorabilia and cinema artifacts. Cassandra Hatton, who heads this strange mashup of a department, told the Journal, “We’re crushing it.” Sure, Cassandra, so Jurassic Park is probably already a reality and the 1%rs have their own private dino-petting zoo in a secluded island… perhaps in Costa Rica? Just spit balling here, not ripping off Michael Crichton, definitely not.
Hatton claims the ultra-rich are motivated by nostalgia, and that they’re buying these fossils to recapture that wide-eyed childhood wonder of seeing a dinosaur in a museum with grandpa. Only difference is, this time, instead of just looking, they’re taking it home—because apparently if you’re rich enough, you can bury these bones again and pretend you just found a Stegosaurus in your own backyard!
Thomas Carr, paleontologist and director of the Carthage Institute of Paleontology, has a few concerns. He thinks all these dinosaur trophies are getting pulled out of the reach of actual scientists who could, you know, do something meaningful with them beyond putting them on display in a Hollywood mansion. According to Carr, the influx of super-rich collectors means fossils that should be studied are instead becoming just another mantelpiece in the living rooms of the wealthy. These aren’t just bones—they’re pieces of our planet’s history, and when a millionaire snatches them up, the scientific value often vanishes right along with the public access.
Sure, some collectors do loan their fossils to museums, but as Carr points out, there’s no guarantee they’ll stay there. Fossils could be yanked off display and shipped off to another private owner whenever the mood strikes. Imagine trying to conduct a multi-year study on a fossil, only to learn it’s just been sold to someone else’s wine cellar. Not exactly the stable environment science is looking for.
And then there’s the grim but real question of what happens when these collectors shuffle off this mortal coil. Do these priceless fossils get donated to science? Not likely. Instead, they’ll probably just end up in the hands of another deep-pocketed collector, traded like high-end Pokémon cards at a yacht party. Today it’s Ken Griffin with his \$44 million Stegosaurus; tomorrow, who knows, maybe Nicolas Cage wants a matching set.
One thing’s clear—dinosaur fossils have officially joined the ranks of ridiculous status symbols for the mega-rich, right next to private jets, luxury islands, and oversized yachts. Meanwhile, paleontologists are left to hope that someday, someone with enough cash and a sense of altruism decides these ancient wonders belong back in the hands of scientists, not gathering dust in a Beverly Hills basement.
