Having been emboldened by my recent
discussion of Trojan Horses, I decided to tap dance on a landmine this
month and discuss the subject of electronic privacy and the technologies
driving it, as well as the very ticklish business of the government regulating
it.
Without trying to scare you right out
of the 20th century, did you know that your email is as public as if you
had posted it on the community board of your local Acme? Completely unencrypted,
it bounces through server after server to get where it is going. Any one
of those nodes can be watched for mail coming from a certain domain (like,
microsoft.com) or even from a specific user (bgates@microsoft.com!) If
they snag a copy as it floats by, they could be looking at a letter to
someone’s dad…or a letter to the IRS or from the IRS or from the FBI to
the CIA. The only thing someone needs is the desire and the skill…and it
doesn’t take much of either.
To paint a more pervasive picture, the
card reader that is used to swipe your VISA at the Department store doesn’t
encrypt the card number before it sends it: these systems rely on having
a dedicated line to the VISA computer for this. But dedicated doesn’t mean
"secure", it just means "hard to get at." If you can get by the physical
security and hook the two wires of your data sniffer to the wiring block
of either building (sending or receiving) you can snag any data that comes
by. Enterprising crooks have pilfered the card data off of the wire and
then programmed the magnet strips on bogus cards to reflect the purloined
account data.
If this revelation has you sweating
and feeling tempted to use your garbage disposal to destroy all of your
plastic, please come down from the ceiling. The situation is getting better,
and it is not yet necessary to drop out of society and go raise goats.
The primary dilemma for data security
is: "To what lengths am I willing to go to be reasonably sure my drawing
is only readable by me or by those I deem suitable." The watch word is
"reasonably." You see, if anyone has more motivation to get that information
than you have motive to keep it private, they will get it.
A prime example of this "how far will
you go" dilemma would be a backup system I developed for the Security office
at a University which had critical and limited (confidential) information
on it. That office has several workstations, plus a server and additional
connections to machines all over the campus. My system design stated, "every
workstation makes its own local backup nightly, the server backs up all
of local machines plus itself, and then duplicates that data to a third
machine at the other end of the campus, the tapes of which are then moved
to a fireproof safe." Thus, anything short of a nuclear bomb landing on
campus would mean that the data would be safe or losses would be held to
only 24 hours worth… Unless someone within the office tampered with the
system intentionally.
While that internal tampering hasn’t
happened (as your staff is considered to be on "your side"), the notion
of intentional sabotage hadn’t occurred to me, and that is the place where
the data is vulnerable: the point at which someone else is willing to go
farther to get the data than I am to protect it. If that is true of a simple
circumstance like backups, imagine how much more difficult it is to deal
with this your data is time sensitive and mission critical.
So, if you can’t keep interloping eyes
off your data, then the next best thing is to make it worthless to the
snoop. Thus, the psychology of Cryptography could be referred to as "the
art of hiding something in plain view." The danger of Cryptography used
to be (prior to 1976) that sender and receiver used the same code book
(cipher) or encryption to both encode and decode. If the competition laid
hands on the cipher book, we’re both (sender and receiver) dead: They could
read the mail we send each other or forge mail to either of us.
To address this drawback, a new and
considerably more bullet-proof technology has emerged called Public Key
Encryption (PKE). Here is how it works: If I want to receive secure information
from you, I would provide you with my Public Key which encodes the data
that you will send to me. That key would scramble the data (making it unreadable
to snoops) and then you send the encrypted data to me over the wire. If
the message is intercepted, all the busybody will find is a file that looks
like your printer lost its lunch.
When I have received the encrypted data,
I would use my Private Key to decode it. (Both Public and Private Keys
were created initially by me.) What is so glorious about the PKE model
is that the encoder only needs one key, but the decoder needs BOTH keys
to make it work. Having the Public Key that encrypts the data tells you
nothing about how to decode the data with the Private Key. Kind of like
locking a door with one half of a key, but needing BOTH halves to unlock
it.
This technology floated around in academic
circles for a few years before Philip Zimmerman of MIT helped codify it
when he wrote the application Pretty Good Privacy (PGP). He posted it to
the Internet newsgroups about the time Congress and the National Security
Agency were starting to understand that they wouldn’t just be able to look
over shoulders anymore to see what people were saying to each other. Zimmerman
was hounded by the government for making this globally available (over
the newsgroup) as U.S. Customs considered PGP to be military grade encryption
and thus considered it "munitions." After several years of government harassment,
the suit against Zimmerman was dropped in 1996.
The reason the government is so concerned
about the subject is not because PGP is widely available, but because it
is, for all practical purposes, bullet proof. A heavily encrypted file
could be cracked, but with current computing technology, it couldn’t be
cracked in anything less that a couple hundred years, long after the importance
of the data has come and gone.
This naturally brings up the question
of personal privacy versus public safety or governmental security. When
we hear about the theft of trade secrets, most of us are likely to shrug
and wonder why the aggrieved company "wasn’t more careful." But when a
U.S. citizen isn’t allowed to exercise their constitutional right to tell
the government to "butt out" of their personal affair and relationships…that,
friends, is when the mob starts to go mad. Because legislation is reactive
by nature and the Internet is proactive by nature, we are to be witness
to a tremendous clash in ideals: Historically, the law has responded to,
not anticipated, technological changes, often reacting repressively when
a new technology challenges the status quo. The Communications Decency
Act of 1995 attempted to limit Internet "speech" (if you consider the depiction
of rape and domination of women "speech") to that deemed acceptable to
a six year old. In trying to quash what most people saw as a threat, the
CDA over-legislated the whole affair and got itself shot down by the Supreme
Court last month.
A great many people (myself included)
have wondered aloud why, if we aren’t doing anything illegal, should we
be worried about the government reading our mail? The answer uncomfortably
comes from two sources: One, Robert Ellis Smith, Publisher of the PRIVACY
JOURNAL cracks, "An employee with nothing to hide may well be an employee
with nothing to offer." The other from Gary Marx, professor of sociology
at MIT, who notes ten characteristics of new kinds of computer-based monitoring
that make them particularly intrusive:
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They transcend boundaries that traditionally
protect privacy.
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They permit the inexpensive and immediate
sharing and merging and reproducing of information.
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They permit combining discrete types of
information.
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They permit altering data.
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They involve remote access which complicates
accountability issues.
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They may be done invisibly.
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They can be done without the subject’s
knowledge or consent.
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They are more intensive.
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They reveal previously inaccessible information.
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They are also more extensive and they cover
broader areas.
United States Constitutional scholar Laurence
Tribe posed a question: "When the [technological, social] lines along which
our Constitution is drawn warp or vanish, what happens to the Constitution
itself?" In applying long-standing constitutional guarantees to electronic
and data privacy, Tribe recommends that policy makers focus on the fact
that the Constitution was written to restrict the government...not its citizens;
It is to regulate actions of the government, not of the actions of private
individuals.
Of the things my father has taught me,
one of the axioms that has kept me out of the most trouble is, "Keep your
head down and your mouth shut." On the whole it has served me well socially
and in business. The question that our culture wrestles with now is that
if a great many people don’t think personal privacy matters to society,
how long will it be before the decision about the state of my mouth (open/shut)
is made for me?
Peace,
Webwalker