Belgian Dinosaur Expert Suspended in Dino Dan Fraud Probe

One of Belgium’s most prominent palaeontologists has been suspended from his post at the Royal Belgian Institute of Natural Sciences (KBIN/IRSNB) amid an investigation into alleged conflict of interest over the mounting of a diplodocus skeleton known as “Dino Dan.” As VRT NWS and other outlets reported on Monday, the Brussels prosecutor’s office has opened a criminal investigation, and federal Science Policy Minister Vanessa Matz (Les Engages) has confirmed the suspension.

The case turns on a single question: was the contract to prepare and mount Dan steered toward Raphus, a small company led by the wife of the suspended official, Pascal Godefroit? No finding of wrongdoing has been established, and the allegations remain under investigation.

A flagship acquisition

Dan is a diplodocus skeleton roughly 20 metres long and about 85 percent complete, excavated by a German team at the foot of the Rocky Mountains in the United States, in a layer around 155 million years old. The KBIN acquired it in 2019, and the remains arrived in Brussels in 2022. The institute described the specimen in a letter as “a fossil of exceptional scientific, heritage and museum value,” adding that “the long-necked dinosaur Dan is an exceptional addition to our collection.” VRT NWS documented the skeleton’s arrival in 2022.

The driving force behind the purchase was Godefroit, then operational director for Earth and History of Life at the KBIN. A world-renowned palaeontologist, he built his reputation partly on the famous Bernissart iguanodons and is a member of the Royal Academy of Belgium.

In a 2022 video for the National Lottery, which sponsors Dan’s preparation, Godefroit promised the public would be able to admire the diplodocus within two years. It was his dream, he said, to display it in a fighting pose beside the allosaurus Arkhane, another museum centrepiece. “Such an arrangement would be unique worldwide.” That ambition has not been realised: Dan is still not on display today, part of the skeleton is reportedly still in Germany, and documentation is said to be incomplete.

Three tenders, one winner

According to De Morgen, Belgium’s federal science policy department Belspo conducted an audit this summer that triggered the suspension, which came about two weeks before the story broke. Godefroit’s office at the KBIN was reportedly sealed. He has declined to comment, saying he cannot access the case file.

Preparing a fossil of this kind is complex: few companies can responsibly turn excavated bones into a museum-quality skeleton. Three procurement procedures were needed to find a suitable party. In the first, Raphus was the only serious candidate; given the connection to Godefroit, the tender was withdrawn. In the second, four candidates bid—Raphus, Ornament (Belgium), Eldonia (France) and Krautworst Naturstein (Germany)—but that procedure also had to be halted because Godefroit should legally have recused himself once his wife’s company took part. The third tender awarded the contract to Raphus—possible, the reporting notes, because Godefroit was by then no longer the lead official on the file.

Pricing has drawn scrutiny. Ornament quoted nearly 1 million euros, while the other three parties each quoted 165,000 euros. That three of four bidders chose the same figure raised questions, as did the fact that it matched the 200,000 euros including VAT that the National Lottery had budgeted for the work. According to several sources, Raphus also had prior knowledge, having previously been involved in KBIN excavations in the United States.

Raphus’s Jonica Dos Remedios disputes any improper advantage. “We are a small company,” she told De Standaard, as quoted by RTBF. “I work on the restorations myself. Our margins are never very high.” She said low transport costs between the museum and Raphus’s nearby workshop in Sint-Gillis keep prices down, and that working on multi-year projects allows the firm to reduce costs such as expensive insurance. She declined to comment on competitors’ quotes.

Questions beyond the tender

Raphus does have genuine international expertise, carrying out work for the Natural History Museum in Berlin, Naturalis in Leiden and the museum in Bernissart. But several palaeontologists were irked that Dos Remedios previously had free use of work spaces at the KBIN museum, including access to the lab and water and electricity. Management reportedly put a stop to that several years ago.

A separate dispute is running at the Council of State. Lawyers for Ornament are demanding all communication between Godefroit and Raphus, but the KBIN refuses to disclose it, citing confidentiality and privacy. The KBIN also says it cannot locate the documents from the first tender, “because this happened before the appointment of the current administrator-general.” The parties are awaiting the auditor’s advice.

Godefroit’s record has drawn scrutiny before. He appeared in a debate over the purchase of “Vulcain,” an apatosaurus bought by Marc Coucke, when the KBIN struck an agreement with the French auction house Thetis to assess whether it was a new species. The chairman of Palaeontologica Belgica criticised the institute at the time for engaging in “crass commercial affairs,” a charge Godefroit denied.

Not everyone blames Raphus. Eric Mickeler, co-founder of Thetis, said the company simply works cheaply. “I am pragmatic. Raphus is good at what it does, and in our world there is a lot of jealousy.” He added: “If the state has to pay for something like that, it costs much more. There is no question of privilege, although it exists everywhere.”

What to watch

Belspo has declined to comment, and the prosecutor’s office cannot provide details while its investigation is ongoing. The central allegations—conflict of interest, prior knowledge and coordinated bidding—come from sources cited in the initial reporting and have not been proven.

Much now hinges on two tracks: the criminal investigation and the Council of State proceeding, where the auditor’s advice could force more disclosure. For the KBIN, the stakes go beyond one dinosaur. The institute trades heavily on its dinosaur collection, and a flagship specimen that was meant to be a crowd-pleaser within two years remains, four years on, unfinished and unshown. How the case resolves—and whether the missing documents and incomplete work are ever fully accounted for—will shape how the public, and the scientific community, view both the scientist and the museum he helped define.