Above: Cassandra Hatton, head of Sotheby's Science & Natural History Department.
"Bones, bones, bones, my phone is full of pictures of bones." Cassandra Hatton is sitting at a table in the Breuer Building, Sotheby's new auction and gallery space in New York City, holding up her iPhone. The photos arrive at all hours, she says. At the other end of the exchange, inevitably, is a professional fossil hunter who has just come across a tooth or vertebra sticking out of the dirt somewhere in the American west. "Usually I reply, 'Let me know when you find two bones. Or three.' But sometimes I write, 'Okay, this would be something I'd be interested in selling for you. Strap on your GoPro.' "
Hatton is the head of Sotheby's Science & Natural History Department, and over the past few years she has been responsible for a series of record-breaking auctions of dinosaur fossils. In July it was a 67-million-year-old tyrannosaurus rex nicknamed Gus, which was sold to an anonymous buyer for $50.1 million, the most ever paid for dinosaur remains. Apex, a stegosaurus, set the previous world record when it went to Ken Griffin, the hedge fund manager, for $44.6 million in 2024. In 2022 it was Maximus, a T. rex skull, which sold for $6 million to an anonymous buyer.
The reply that Hatton's fossil hunters would like to receive: "I'll be on the next flight." That's because serious interest from Sotheby's, or any major auction house, means they can more easily secure funding for a dig, which can take years and cost hundreds of thousands of dollars. And, more important, it means they'll be able to start negotiating with the landowner to split the profits from a sale (commercial paleontologists can dig only on private property in the U.S.). "A lot of people know exactly what I need," Hatton says. "But if I haven't worked with them before, it's a master class in what I have to have to be able to sell things." That includes quarry maps: precise 3D renderings of the fossil in its surroundings. The more complete the documentation, she says, the more valuable the specimen.
"Bones, bones, bones, my phone is full of pictures of bones." Cassandra Hatton is sitting at a table in the Breuer Building, Sotheby's new auction and gallery space in New York City, holding up her iPhone. The photos arrive at all hours, she says. At the other end of the exchange, inevitably, is a professional fossil hunter who has just come across a tooth or vertebra sticking out of the dirt somewhere in the American west. "Usually I reply, 'Let me know when you find two bones. Or three.' But sometimes I write, 'Okay, this would be something I'd be interested in selling for you. Strap on your GoPro.' "
Hatton is the head of Sotheby's Science & Natural History Department, and over the past few years she has been responsible for a series of record-breaking auctions of dinosaur fossils. In July it was a 67-million-year-old tyrannosaurus rex nicknamed Gus, which was sold to an anonymous buyer for $50.1 million, the most ever paid for dinosaur remains. Apex, a stegosaurus, set the previous world record when it went to Ken Griffin, the hedge fund manager, for $44.6 million in 2024. In 2022 it was Maximus, a T. rex skull, which sold for $6 million to an anonymous buyer.
The reply that Hatton's fossil hunters would like to receive: "I'll be on the next flight." That's because serious interest from Sotheby's, or any major auction house, means they can more easily secure funding for a dig, which can take years and cost hundreds of thousands of dollars. And, more important, it means they'll be able to start negotiating with the landowner to split the profits from a sale (commercial paleontologists can dig only on private property in the U.S.). "A lot of people know exactly what I need," Hatton says. "But if I haven't worked with them before, it's a master class in what I have to have to be able to sell things." That includes quarry maps: precise 3D renderings of the fossil in its surroundings. The more complete the documentation, she says, the more valuable the specimen.
A T. rex nicknamed Gus, which was discovered in Harding County, South Dakota, sold at auction in July for $50.1 million.Matthew Sherman/Courtesy Sotheby's · Matthew Sherman/Courtesy Sotheby's
Dinosaurs became big business for auction houses in the late 1990s, when Sotheby's sold Sue, a T. rex, for $8.5 million. That dinosaur had been at the center of a lengthy and public ownership battle that began when the FBI seized it from a commercial paleontologist who had dug it up from a privately owned cattle ranch on the Cheyenne River Indian Reservation near Faith, South Dakota. The feds claimed it was the property of the U.S. government; the paleontologist said they had paid the rancher $5,000 and therefore it was theirs; the rancher said he had never signed a contract to transfer ownership. Ultimately, a federal judge ruled that fossil remains are the property of whoever owns the land on which they are found. The rancher, who indeed had not signed a contract, called Sotheby's.
Sue was purchased by the Field Museum in Chicago, which solicited money from a consortium of donors to buy the fossil. Despite the generous gift, the spectacle around the sale and the high final price alarmed prominent scientists and museum heads. Having dinosaur skeletons become mere auction trophies for the ultrarich would be terrible for scientific research, they argued, especially if buyers locked them up in private collections. Commercial paleontologists and auctioneers countered that if it weren't for them, many dinosaurs would never be found or would be lost to erosion.
Hatton points out that many private buyers end up giving or lending their dinosaurs to museums, which is why, she says, it's so vital that anyone working in the field follow strict protocols. "I've been very lucky that there have been academics who have given me guidance. I ask them, 'What kind of restoration techniques do you not agree with? What kind of mounting techniques do you not like? What documentation do you need?' Because I want to make sure that whatever I'm selling could go into a museum."
Hatton is working on a potential auction for this fall, the details of which have not been made public. In recent years T. rexes have inspired the biggest bidding wars, but Hatton says she's interested in bringing other things to market. "The more I diversify the types of dinosaurs sold, the more data points we have. It's important to know what the best example of a species is worth." The way to do that is to have eight or so parties bid on it at auction. "And then you can kind of price things from there."
Dinosaurs became big business for auction houses in the late 1990s, when Sotheby's sold Sue, a T. rex, for $8.5 million. That dinosaur had been at the center of a lengthy and public ownership battle that began when the FBI seized it from a commercial paleontologist who had dug it up from a privately owned cattle ranch on the Cheyenne River Indian Reservation near Faith, South Dakota. The feds claimed it was the property of the U.S. government; the paleontologist said they had paid the rancher $5,000 and therefore it was theirs; the rancher said he had never signed a contract to transfer ownership. Ultimately, a federal judge ruled that fossil remains are the property of whoever owns the land on which they are found. The rancher, who indeed had not signed a contract, called Sotheby's.
Sue was purchased by the Field Museum in Chicago, which solicited money from a consortium of donors to buy the fossil. Despite the generous gift, the spectacle around the sale and the high final price alarmed prominent scientists and museum heads. Having dinosaur skeletons become mere auction trophies for the ultrarich would be terrible for scientific research, they argued, especially if buyers locked them up in private collections. Commercial paleontologists and auctioneers countered that if it weren't for them, many dinosaurs would never be found or would be lost to erosion.
Hatton points out that many private buyers end up giving or lending their dinosaurs to museums, which is why, she says, it's so vital that anyone working in the field follow strict protocols. "I've been very lucky that there have been academics who have given me guidance. I ask them, 'What kind of restoration techniques do you not agree with? What kind of mounting techniques do you not like? What documentation do you need?' Because I want to make sure that whatever I'm selling could go into a museum."
Hatton is working on a potential auction for this fall, the details of which have not been made public. In recent years T. rexes have inspired the biggest bidding wars, but Hatton says she's interested in bringing other things to market. "The more I diversify the types of dinosaurs sold, the more data points we have. It's important to know what the best example of a species is worth." The way to do that is to have eight or so parties bid on it at auction. "And then you can kind of price things from there."
Photo credit: Getty Images
A bidding war broke out at Christie's in 2020 for Stan, a T. rex, which sold for a record $31.8 million to Abu Dhabi's natural history museum.
A bidding war broke out at Christie's in 2020 for Stan, a T. rex, which sold for a record $31.8 million to Abu Dhabi's natural history museum.
Photo credit: Getty Images
Hedge-funder Ken Griffin bought a nearly complete stegosaurus
(254 out of 319 bones) for $44.6 million at Sotheby's in 2024.
Hedge-funder Ken Griffin bought a nearly complete stegosaurus
(254 out of 319 bones) for $44.6 million at Sotheby's in 2024.
Photo credit: Courtesy Sotheby's
In July an anonymous buyer nabbed Gus, one of the largest T. rexes ever discovered, for a record-breaking $50.1 million at Sotheby's.
This story appears in the October 2026 issue of Town & Country.
In July an anonymous buyer nabbed Gus, one of the largest T. rexes ever discovered, for a record-breaking $50.1 million at Sotheby's.
This story appears in the October 2026 issue of Town & Country.





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