Who said that? Was it Andy Warhol or Marshal McLuhan or Maurice Saatchi?
A few days ago, we reflected on the medium of the RSA conference, and how the message has lost its shine. One question is how to put the shine back on it, but another question is, why do we want shine on the conference? As Ping mused on, what is the message in the first place?
The medium is the message. Here's an example that I stumbled across today: Neighbours. If you don't know what that is, have a look at wikipedia. Take a few moments to skim through the long entry there ...
If you didn't know what it was before, do you know now? Wikipedia tells us about the popularity, the participants, the ratings, the revamps, the locations, the history of the success, the theme tune, and the awards. Other than these brief lines at the beginning:
Neighbours is a long-running Australian soap opera. The series follows the daily lives of several families who live in the six houses at the end of Ramsay Street, a quiet cul-de-sac in the fictional middle-class suburb of Erinsborough. Storylines explore the romances, family problems, domestic squabbles, and other key life events affecting the various residents.
Wikipedia does not tell the reader what Neighbours is. There are 5998 words in the article, and 55 words in that message above. If we were being academic, we could call them message type I and type II and note that there is a ratio of 100 to 1 between them!
At a superficial, user-based level, the 55 words above is the important message. To me and you, that is. But, to whoever wrote that article, the other 99% is clearly the most important. Their words are about the medium, not what we outsiders would have called the message, and it is here that the medium has become the message.
Some of that stuff *is* important. If we drag through the entire article we find that the TV show does one million daily audience in Australia, peaked at 18 million in the UK, and other countries had their times too. That you can take to the bank, advertisers will line up out on the street to buy that.
We can also accurately measure the cost and therefore benefit to consumers: 30 minutes each working day. So we know, objectively, that this entertainment is worth 30 minutes of prime time for the viewers. (The concept of a soap opera guarantees repeat business, so you know you are also targetting a consistent set of people, consistently.)
We can then conclude that, on the buy side and the sell side of this product, we have some sort of objective meeting of the minds. And, we can compress this mind meeting into a single number called ratings. Based on that one number alone, we can trade.
That number, patient reader, is a metric. A metric is something that is objectively important to both buyer and seller. It's Okay that we don't know what "it" is, as long as we have the metric of it. In television, the medium is the message, and that's cool.
Now, if we turn back to the RSA channel .. er .. conference, we can find similar numbers: In 2007, 17,000 attendees and 340 exhibitors. Which is bankable, you can definitely get funding for that, so that conference is in good shape. On the sell side, all is grand.
However, as the recent blog thread pointed out, on the buy side, there is a worrying shortage of greatness: the message was, variously, buyers can't understand the products, buyers think the products are crap, buyers don't know why they're there, and buyers aren't buying.
In short, buyers aren't, anymore. And this separates Neighbours from RSA in a way that is extremely subtle. When I watch an episode of Neighbours, my presence is significant in and of itself because the advertising works on a presence & repeat basis. I'm either entertained and come back tomorrow, or I stop watching, so entertainment is sufficient to make the trade work.
However, if I go to the RSA conference, the issue of my *presence* isn't the key. Straight advertising isn't the point here, so something other than my presence is needed.
What is important is that the exhibitors sell something. Marketing cannot count on presence alone because the buyer is not given that opportunity statistically (1 buyer, 340 exhibitors, zero chance of seeing all the adverts) so something else has to serve as the critical measurement of success.
Recent blog postings suggest it is sales. Whatever it is, we haven't got that measurement. What we do have is exhibitors and participants, but because these numbers fail to have relevance to both sides of the buy-sell divide then these numbers fail to be metrics.
Which places RSA in a different space to Neighbours. Readers will recognise the frequent theme of security being in the market for silver bullets, and that the numbers of exhibitors and participants are therefore signals, not metrics.
And, in this space, when the medium becomes the message, that's very uncool, because we are now looking at a number that doesn't speak to sales. When Marshal McLuhan coined his phrase, he was speaking generally positively about electronic media such as TV, but we can interpret this in security more as a warning: In a market based on signals not metrics, when the signals become the system, when the medium becomes the message, it is inevitable that the system will collapse, because it is no longer founded on objective needs.
Signals do not by definition capture enough of the perfect quality that is needed, they only proxy it in some uncertain and unreliable sense. Which is fine, if we all understand this. To extend Spence's example, if we know that a degree in Computer Science is not a guarantee that the guy can program a computer, that's cool.
Or, to put it another way: there are no good signals, only less bad ones. The signal is less bad than the alternate, which is nothing. Which leads us to the hypothesis that the market will derail when we act as if the the signal is a metric, as if the Bachelor's in CompSci is a certification of programming skill, as if booth size is the quality of security.
Have another look at Neighbours. It's still going on after 22 years or so. It is around one million, because of some revamp. That metric is still being taken to to the bank. The viewer is entertained, the advertiser markets. Buyer and seller are comfortable, the message and the medium therefore are in happy coincidence, they can happily live together because the medium lives on solid metrics. All of this, and we still don't know what it is. That's TV.
Whereas with the world of security, we know that the signal of the RSA conference is as strong as ever, but we also know that, in this very sector that the conference has become the iconic symbol for, the wheels are coming off. And, what's even more disturbing, we know that the RSA conference will go from strength to strength, even as the wheels are spinning out of view, and we the users are sliding closer to the proverbial cliff.
I know the patient reader is desperate to find out what Neighbours really is, so here goes. Read the following with an Aussie sense of humour:
About 10 years back I and a partner flew to Prague and then caught a train to a a Czech town near the Polish border, in a then-devastated coal belt. We were to consult to a privatised company that was once the Ministry of Mines. Recalling communist times, the Ministry had shrunk from many hundreds of thousands of miners down to around 20,000 at that time.Of which, only 2 people spoke English. These two English speakers, both of them, picked us up at the train station. As we drove off, the girl of the pair started talking to us, and her accent immediately jolted us out of our 24 hours travel stupor: Australian! Which was kind of unexpected in such a remote place, off the beaten track, as they say down under.
I looked slowly at my friend, who was Scandinavian. He looked at me, slowly. Okay, so there's a story here, we thought... Then, searching for the cautious approach, we tried to figure it out:
"How long have you lived here?" I asked.
She looked back at me, with worry in her face. "All ma life. Ah'm Czech." In pure, honest dinkum Strine, if you know what that means.
"No, you're not, you're Aussie!"
"I'm Czech! I kid you not!"
"Okay...." I asked slowly, "then why do you have an Australian accent."
Nothing, except more worry on her face. "Where did you learn English?"
This she answered: "London. I did a couple of year's Uni there."
"But you don't have an English accent. Where did you pick up an Australian accent?"
"Promise you won't laugh?" We both duly promised her we would not laugh, which was easy, as we were both too tired to find anything funny any more.
"Well," she went on, "I was s'posed to do English at Uni but I didn't." That is, she did not attend the University's language classes.
"Instead, I stayed at home and watched Neighbours every lunchtime!"
Of course, we both cracked up and laughed until she was almost in tears.
That's what Neighbours is -- a cultural phenomena that swept through Britain by presenting an idyllic image of a sunny, happy place in a country far far away. Lots of fun people, lots of sunshine, lots of colour, lots of simple dramas, albeit all in that funny Aussie drawl. A phenomena strong enough that, in an unfair competition of 22 minutes, squeezed between daily life on the streets of the most cosmopolitan city in the world, it was able to imprint itself on the student visitor, and totally dominate the maturing of her language. The result was perfect English, yet with no trace of the society in which she lived.
But you won't read that in Wikipedia, because, for the world of TV, the medium is the message, and they have a metric. They only care that she watched, not what it did to her. And, in the converse, the language student got what she wanted, and didn't care what they thought about that.
Chandler spots a post by Michael on those pervasively two-wheeled Dutch, who all share one standard beaten-up old bike model, apparently mass-produced in a beaten-up old bike factory.
The Dutch are also prosperous, and they have a strong engineering and technology culture, so I was surprised on two visits in the last few years to see that their bikes are all junkers: poorly maintained, old, heavy, three-speeds. The word I used was all. ...I asked about this and everyone immediately said "if you had a good bike it would be immediately stolen." On reflection, I'm not satisfied with the answer, for a couple of reasons. First, the Dutch are about as law-abiding as Americans, perhaps more. Second, the serious lock that has kept my pretty good bikes secure on sketchy streets in two US cities for decades is available for purchase all over the world.
Third, and most important, I don't see how this belief could be justified by real data, because there were absolutely no bikes worth stealing anywhere I looked. ...
Right. So here's an interesting case of an apparently irreconcilable conundrum. Why does all the evidence suggest that bike insecurity is an improbability, yet we all believe it to be pervasive? Let's tear this down, because there are striking parallels between Micheal's topic and the current debate on security. (Disclosure: like half of all good FCers, I've spent some time on Amsterdam wheels, but it is a decade or so back.)
At least, back then, I can confirm that bicycle theft was an endemic problem. I can't swear to any figures, but I recall this: average lifespan of a new bike was around 3 months (then it becomes someone else's old bike). I do recall frequent discussions about a German friend who lost her bike, stolen, several times, and had to go down to the known areas where she could buy another standard beat-up bike from some shady character. Two or three times per year, and I was even press-ganged into riding shotgun once, so I have some first-hand evidence that she wasn't secretly building a bike out of spare parts she had in her handbag. Back then, the going price was around 25-50 guilders (hazy memory) which would be 10-30 euros. Anyone know the price at the moment?
For the most part, I used inline skates. However when I did some small job somewhere (for an FC connection), I was faced with the issue. Get a bike, lose it! As a non-native, I lacked the bicycle-loss-anti-angst-gene, so I was emotionally constrained from buying the black rattler. I faced and defeated the demon with a secret weapon, the Brompton!
The Dutch being law-abiding: well, this is just plain wrong. The Dutch are very up-right, but that doesn't mean they aren't human. Law-abiding is an economic issue, not an absolute. IMO, there is no such thing as a region where everyone abides by the law, there are just regions where they share peculiarities in their attitudes about the law. For tourists, there are stereotypes, but the wise FCer gnaws at the illusion until the darker side of economic reality and humanity is revealed. It's fun, because without getting into the character of the people, you can't design FC systems for them!
As it turns out, there is even a casual political term for this duality: the Dutch Compromise describes their famous ability to pass a law to appease one group of people, and then ignore it totally to appease another. A rather well-known counterexample: it is technically illegal to trade in drugs and prostitution. E.g., for the latter, you are allowed to display your own wares in your own window. For an example, look around for a concentration of red lights in the window.
Final trick: when they buy a new bike (as new stock has to be inserted into the population of rotating wheels), the wise Dutch commuter will spend a few hours making it look old and tatty. Disguise is a skill, which may explain the superficial observation that no bicycle is worth stealing.
What I don't know: why the trade persists. One factor that may explain this is that enough of the Dutch will buy a stolen bike to make it work. I also asked about this, and recall discussions where very up-right, very "law-abiding" citizens did indeed admit to buying stolen wheels. So the mental picture here is of a rental or loaning system, and as a society, they haven't got it together to escape their cyclical prisoner's dilemma.
Also: are bike locks totally secure? About as secure as crypto, I'd say. Secure when it works, a broken bucket of worthless bits when it doesn't. But let's hear from others?
Addendum: citybikes are another curiosity. Adam reportst that they are now being tried in the US.
Phishing still works, says Verisign:
...these latest messages masquerade as an official subpoena requiring the recipient to appear before a federal grand jury. The emails correctly address CEOs and other high-ranking executives by their full name and include their phone number and company name, according to Matt Richard, director of rapid response at iDefense, a division of VeriSign that helps protect financial institutions from fraud. ...About 2,000 executives took the bait on Monday, and an additional 70 have fallen for the latest scam, Richard said. Operating under the assumption that as many as 10 percent of recipients fell for the ruse, he estimated that 21,000 executives may have received the email. Only eight of the top 35 anti-virus products detected the malware on Monday, and on Wednesday, only 11 programs were flagging the new payload, which has been modified to further evade being caught.
I find 10% to be exceptionally large, but, OK, it's a number, and we collect numbers!
Disclosure for them: Verisign sells an an anti-phishing technology called secure browsing, or at least the certificates part of that. (Hence they and you are interested in phishing statistics.) Due to problems in the browser interface, they and other CAs now also sell a "green" version called Extended Validation. This -- encouragingly -- fixes some problems with the older status quo, because more info is visible for users to assess risks (a statement by the CA, more or less). Less encouragingly, EV may trade future security for current benefit, because it further cements the institutional structure of secure browsing, meaning that as attackers spin faster in their OODA loops, browsers will spin slower around the attackers.
Luckily, Johnath reports that further experiments are due in Firefox 3.1, so there is still some spinning going on:
Here’s my initial list of the 3 things I care most about, what have I missed?1. Key Continuity Management
Key continuity management is the name for an approach to SSL certificates that focuses more on “is this the same site I saw last time?” instead of “is this site presenting a cert from a trusted third party?” Those approaches don’t have to be mutually exclusive, and shouldn’t in our case, but supporting some version of this would let us deal more intelligently with crypto environments that don’t use CA-issued certificates.
Jonath's description sells it short, perhaps for political reasons. KCM is useful when the user knows more than the CA, which unfortunately is most of the time. This might mean that the old solution should be thrown out in favour of KCM, but the challenge lies in extracting the user's knowledge in an efficacious way. As the goal with modern software is to never bother the user then this is much more of a challenge than might be first thought. Hence, as he suggests, KCM and CA-certified browsing will probably live side by side for some time.
If there was a list of important security fixes for phishing, I'd say it should be this: UI fixes, KCM and TLS/SNI. Firefox is now covering all three of those bases. Curiously, Johnath goes on to say:
The first is for me to get a better understanding of user certificates. In North America (outside of the military, at least) client certificates are not a regular matter of course for most users, but in other parts of the world, they are becoming downright commonplace. As I understand it, Belgium and Denmark already issue certs to their citizenry for government interaction, and I think Britain is considering its options as well. We’ve fixed some bugs in that UI in Firefox 3, but I think it’s still a second-class UI in terms of the attention it has gotten, and making it awesome would probably help a lot of users in the countries that use them. If you have experience and feedback here, I would welcome it.
Certainly it is worthy of attention (although I'm surprised about the European situation) because they strictly dominate over username-passwords in such utterly scientific, fair and unbiased tests like the menace of the chocolate bar. More clearly, if you are worried about eavesdropping defeating your otherwise naked and vulnerable transactions, client-side private keys are the start of the way forward to proper financial cryptography.
I've found x.509 client certificates easier to use than expected, but they are terribly hard to install into the browser. There are two real easy fixes for this: 1. allow the browser to generate a self-signed cert as a default, so we get more widespread use, and 2. create some sort of CA <--> browser protocol so that this interchange can happen with a button push. (Possible 3., I suspect there may be some issues with SSL and client certs, but I keep getting that part wrong so I'll be vague this time!)
Which leaves us inevitably and scarily to our other big concern: Browser hardening against MITB. (How that is done is ... er ... beyond scope of a blog post.) What news there?
I recently received an (anonymous) comment on the 'silver bullets' paper that ran like this:
Sellers most certainly still have more information than the vast majority of buyers based on the fact that they spend all of their time making security software.
That's an important statement, and deserves to be addressed. How can we check that statement? Well, one way is that we could walk over to the world's biggest concentration of sellers and perhaps buyers, and test the waters? The RSA conference! Figuratively, blog-wise, Gunnar does just that:
I went to RSA to speak with Brian Chess on Breaking Web Services. First time for me to RSA, I generally go to more geek-to-geek conferences like OWASP. It is a little weird to be in such a big convention. There were soooo many vendors yet most of the products in the massive trade show floor would have as much an impact on the security in your system as say plumbing fixtures. What is genuinely strange to me is that every other area in computers improves and yet security stagnates. For years the excuse that security people gave for their field's propensity to lameness is that "no one invests a nickel in security." However, that ain't the case any more and yet most of the products teh suck. This doesn't happen in other areas of computing - databases are vastly better than a decade ago, app servers same, OS same, go right down the list. What gives in security? Where is the innovation?
This is more or less similar to the paper's selection of quotes. Anecdotally, evidence exists that insiders don't think sellers know enough, on both sides of the fence. However, surveys can be self-selecting (as was my sample of quotes in the paper), and opinions can be wrong. So it is important to realise that we have not proven one way or another, we've simply opened the door to an uncertainty.
That is, it could be true that sellers don't know enough! How we then go on to show this, one way or another, is a subject for other (many) posts and possibly much more academic research. I don't for a moment think it is reasonable nor scientifically appropriate to prove this in one paper.
Passports were always meant to help track citizens. According to lore, they were invented in the 19th century to stop Frenchmen evading the draft (conscription), which is still an issue in some countries. BigMac points to a Dutch working paper "Fingerprinting Passports," that indicates that passports can now be used to discriminate against the bearer's country of issue, to a distance of maybe 25cm. Future Napoleons will be happy.
Because terrorising the reader over breakfast is currently good writing style by governments and media alike, let's highlight the dangers first. The paper speculates:
Given that we can remotely detect the presence of a passport of a particular country, how could this functionality be abused? One abuse case that has been suggested is a passport bomb, designed to go off if someone with a passport of a certain nationality comes close. One could even send such a bomb by post, say to an embassy. A less spectacular, but possibly more realistic, use of this functionality would by passport thieves, who can remotely check if someone is carrying passport and if it is of a ‘suitable’ nationality, before they decide to rob them.
From the general fear department, we can also add that overseas travellers sometimes have a fear of being mugged, kidnapped, hijacked or simply shot because of their mere membership of a favourable or unfavourable country.
Now that we have the FUD off our chest, let's talk details. The trick involves sending a series of commands (up to 4) to the RFID in the passport, each of which are presumably rejected by the passport. The manner of rejection differs from country to country, so a precise fingerprint-of-country can be formed simply by examining each rejection, and then choosing a different command to further narrow the choices.
How did this happen? I would speculate that the root failure is derived from bureaucrats' never-ending appetite for complex technological solutions to simple problems. In this case, the first root cause is the use of the RFID, being by intention and design something that can be read from up to 10 cm.
It is inherently attackable, and therefore by definition a very odd choice for security. The second complexity, then, involved implementing something to stop the attackers reading off the RFIDs without permission. The solution to an active read-off attack is encryption, of course! Which leads to our third complexity, a secret key, which is written inside the passport, of course! Which immediately raises issues of brute-forcing (of course!) and, as the paper references, it turns out, brute forcing attacks work on some countries' passports because the secret key is .. poorly chosen.
All of this complexity, er, solution, means something called Basic Access Control is added to the RFID in order to ensure the use of the secret key. Which means a series of commands meant to defend the RFID. If we factor in the tendency for each country to implement passports entirely alone (because they are more scared of each other than they are of their citizens), we can see that each solution is proprietary and home-grown. To cope with this, the standard was written to be very flexible (of course!). Hence, it permits wide diversity in response to errors.
Whoops! Security error. In the world of security, we say that one should be precise in what we send, and precise in what we return.
From that point of view, this is poor security work by the governments of the world, but that's to be expected. The US State Department can now derive some satisfaction from earlier blunders; because of their failure to implement any form of encryption or access control, American passports can be read by all (terrorists and borderists alike), which apparently forced them to add aluminium foil into the passport cover to act as a Faraday cage. Likely, the other countries will now have to follow suit, and the smugness of being sophisticated and advanced in security terms ("we've got BAC!") will be replaced by a dawning realisation that they should have adopted the simpler solutions in the first place.
In our ELTEcrypt research group [writes Dani Nagy], we discussed opportunistic public key exchange from a cost-benefit point of view and came up with an important improvement over the existing schemes (e.g. ssh), which, I think, must be advertised as broadly as possible. It may even merit a short paper to some conference, but for now, I would like to ask you to publish it in your blog.
Opportunistic public key exchange is when two communicating parties perform an unauthenticated key exchange before the first communication session, assume that this key is trustworthy and then only verify that the same party uses the same key every time. This lowers the costs of defense significantly by not imposing authentication on the participants, while at the same time it does not significantly lower the cost of the dominant attack (doing MITM during the first communication session is typically not the dominant attack). Therefore, it is a Pareto-improvement over an authenticated PKI.
One successful implementation of this principle is ssh. However, it has one major flaw, stemming from misplaced costs: when an ssh host is re-installed or replaced by a new one, the cost of migrating the private key of the host is imposed on the host admin, while most of the costs resulting from not doing so are imposed on the clients.
In the current arrangement, when a new system is installed, the ssh host generates itself a new key pair. Migrating the old key requires extra work on the system administrator's part. So, he probably won't do it.
If the host admin fails to migrate the key pair, clients will get a frightening error message that won't let them do their job, until they exert significant effort for removing the "offending" old public key from their key cache. This is their most straightforward solution, which both weakens their security (they lose all protection against MITM) and punishes them for the host admin's mistake.
This could be improved in the following way: if the client detects that the host's public key has changed, instead of quitting after warning the user, it allows the user to accept the new key temporarily for this one session with hitting "yes" and SENDS AN EMAIL TO THE SYSTEM ADMINISTRATOR.
Such a scheme metes out punishment where it is due. It does not penalize the client too much for the host admin's mistake, and provides the latter with all the right incentives to do his duty (until he fixes the migration problem, he will be bombarded by emails by all the clients and the most straightforward solution to his problem is to migrate the key, which also happens to be the right thing to do).
As an added benefit, in some attack scenarios, the host admin will learn about an ongoing attack.