seeking evidence

Conventional wisdom says:

  1. Security through obscurity doesn’t work.  You may hide your needle in a haystack, but it’s likely to come back and stick into you (or someone who will sue you) when you least want it to.  Much better to lock your needle in a safe.
  2. You shouldn’t roll your own controls: whether crypto, or software, or architectures, or procedures.  The wisdom of the crowd is great, and the vendor can afford better security expertise than your own project can, because the vendor can amortise the cost over a much broader base than you can ever manage.

And yet, when I want to protect an asset against a fairly run-of-the-mill set of threats, it’s very far from clear to me whether that asset will  be safer if I protect it with COTS products or if I build my own, perhaps quirky and not necessarily wonderful, product.

audit in the 21st century

One of the big annoyances in my working life is the procedure for claiming expenses.  Our University seems eager to retain processes which would have made sense in the first half of the 20th century, which involve a large – and increasing – volume of paper.

One of the problems with this is that as a method of holding people to account, it’s very poor.  The big items of expenditure are conference registration fees, airfares, and hotel bills.  In many cases, the receipt for each of these reaches me by email.  The process of claiming the money involves printing out those emails (PDFs, whatever), and stapling them to a claim form.  If the cost is in foreign currency, I also (bizarrely) have to nominate  an exchange rate, and print out a page from somewhere like www.xe.com to prove that that rate existed at some nearby point in time.

Of course, any of those evidences could trivially be falsified. Continue reading

cloud failure modalities

There’s a tale of woe getting some airtime on the interwebs from an angst-ridden New York undergraduate (reading between the lines) who has somehow had an entire, quite substantial, google account deleted. The post’s contention is (or includes) the idea that deleting such a profile is tantamount to deleting one’s life, I think. The facts of the case are murky – I’d link to some Google+ discussions, but I can’t find a way to do that – but regardless of this particular young person’s predicament, the story highlights some bigger questions about trusting cloud services. Continue reading

local news

I’m delighted to say that Professor Sadie Creese will be joining the Department of Computer Science – hopefully in October, but perhaps later – to become Professor of Cyber Security and bring leadership to our activity in that area.

Prof. Creese studied for her DPhil in Oxford, with Bill Roscoe as supervisor.  She then worked at QinetiQ before moving to Warwick University.  Coming with her will be Professor Michael Goldsmith and about eight other research staff.  The objective of this move is to create a large centre of expertise in Oxford, able to take an internationally-leading role in research around cyber security, information assurance, and related fields.  This is of course a major step forward in the vision I have been touting for some time (my ‘world domination plan’ as Ivan put it), and has every prospect of making Oxford an even more attractive partner for funders and other projects.  We will be looking for ways to enhance cross-disciplinary working in order that we can make genuine steps forward in this area.

 

disk erasure

A recent pointer to Peter Guttman’s new book on security engineering (looks good, by the way) reminds me that Guttman’s name is associated with the woeful tale of disk erasure norms.

The argument goes this way: ‘normal’ file erases (from your windows shell, say) merely change pointers in tables, and do not remove any data from the disk.  A fairly unsophisticated process will recover your ‘deleted’ files.  Wiser people ensure that the file is deleted from the media itself – by writing zeros over the sectors on the disk that formerly contained the file.  Guttman’s argument was that because of minor variations in disk head alignment with the platters, this is insufficient to ensure the complete removal of the residual magnetic field from the former data.  There is a possibility that, with the right equipment, someone could recover the formerly-present files.  So he has an algorithm involving, I think, 35 passes, writing various patterns, calculated to destroy any remaining underlying data.

Now, the problem appears/appeared real enough: various government standards have, for decades now, ruled that magnetic media which has held classified material cannot be declassified but must be destroyed  before leaving secure custody.  Whether anyone has ever managed to recover a non-trivial amount of data from a once-zeroed disk is much less clear: as far as I know, there’s not a lot in the open literature to suggest it’s possible, and none of the companies specializing in data recovery will offer it as a service.  Furthermore, since Guttman did his original work, disk design has evolved (and the ‘size’ of the bits on the disk become so small that any residual effect is going to be truly minimal), and disk manufacturers have built a ‘secure erase’ into their controllers for quite a few years now.  Even better, the new generation of self-encrypting drives can be rendered harmless by the deletion of just one key (don’t do this by accident!).

Yet, the perception persists that the simple solutions are insufficient. Let us leave aside Government security standards and think simply of commercial risk.  Multi-pass erasure is downright time-consuming.  You can buy a disk-shredding service –  but this attracts quite a fee.  So it is not uncommon simply to archive used disks in a warehouse somewhere (with or without a single zeroing pass, I suppose).  How long you would keep those disks for is unclear: until their data ceases to be valuable, I suppose.  But without a detailed inventory of their contents, that cannot easily be determined.  So perhaps you have to keep them forever.

My simple question is: which attracts the lower risk (and/or the lower total predicated cost)? (a) Zeroing a disk and putting it in a skip, or (b) Warehousing it until the end of the lifetime of the data it holds?  You can postulate whatever adversary model you wish.  The answer is not obvious to me.  And if we can’t make a simple determination about risk in this case (because, frankly, the parameters are all lost in the noise), what possible chance do we have of using risk calculations to make decisions in the design of more complex systems?

email retention

Someone in the group suggested a blog post on email retention.  It’s a good topic, because it tracks the co-evolution of technology and process.

The Evolution

Back in the day, storage was expensive – relative to the cost of sending an email, anyway.   To save space, people would routinely delete emails when they were no longer relevant.

Then storage got cheap, and even though attachments got bigger and bigger, storing email ceased to be a big deal.  By the late 1990s, one of my colleagues put it to me that the time you might spend deciding whether or not to delete something already cost more than the cost of storing it forever.  I have an archive copy of every email I’ve sent or received – in professional or personal capacities – since about 1996 (even most or all of the spam).

Happily, one other technology helped with making email retention worthwhile: indexing.  This, too, is predicated on having enough storage to store the index, and having enough CPU power to build the index.  All of this we now have.

However, a third force enters the fray: lawyers started discovering the value of emails as evidence (even if it’s rubbish as evidence, needing massive amounts of corroboration if it is not to be forged trivially). And many people – including some senior civil servants, it seems – failed to spot this in time, and were very indiscreet in their subsequently- subpoenaed communications.

As a result, another kind of lawyers – corporate lawyers – issued edicts which first required, and then forced, employees of certain companies to delete any email more than six months old.  That way, they cannot be ‘discovered’ in an adverse legal case, because they have already been erased.

Never mind that many people’s entire working lives are mediated by email today: the email is an accurate and (if permitted) complete record of decisions taken and the process by which that happened.  Never mind that emails have effectively replaced the hardbound notebooks that many engineers and scientists would use to retain their every thought and discussion (though in many places good lab practice retains such notebooks).  Never mind that although it is creaking under the present strain of ‘spam’ and ‘nearly spam’ (the stuff that I didn’t want, but was sent by coworkers, not random strangers), we simply haven’t got anything better.

The state-of-the art

So now, in those companies, there is no email stored for more than six months, yes?  Well, no.  Of course not.  There are lots of emails which are just too valuable to delete.  And so people extract them from the mail system and store them elsewhere.  Or forward them to private email accounts.  There are, and always will be, many ways to defeat the corporate mail reaper.  The difference is that the copies are not filed systematically, are not subject to easy search by the organisation, and will probably not be disclosed to regulators or in other legal discovery processes.  This is the state-of-the art in every such organisation I’ve encountered (names omitted to protect the … innocent?).

Sooner or later, a quick-witted external lawyer is going to guess that this kind of informal archiving might help their case, and is going to manage to dig deeper into the adversary’s filestores and processes.  When they find some morsels of beef secreted in unlikely places, there will be a rush of corporate panic.

The solution

It’s easy to spot the problem.  It’s much harder to know what to do about it.  Threatening the employees isn’t very productive – especially if the ‘security’ rule is at odds with the goal of getting their work done.  Making it a sacking offence, say, to save an email outside the corporate mail  system is just going to make people more creative about what they save, and how they save it.  Unchecked retention, on the other hand, will certainly leave the organisation ‘remembering’ things it would much rather it had ‘forgotten’.

At least it would be better if the ‘punishment’ matched the crime: restricting the retention of email places the control in the wrong place.   It would be much better to reserve the stiff penalties for those engaged in libel, corporate espionage, anticompetitive behaviour, and the rest.  Undoubtedly, that would remain a corporate risk, and a place where prevention seems better than cure: the cost to the organisation may be disproportionately greater than any cost that can be imposed upon the individual.  But surely it’s the place to look, because in the other direction lies madness.

Spectacular Fail!

Step 1.  Install “Windows XP Mode” using Microsoft Virtual PC on Microsoft Windows 7.

Step 2. Windows XP warns that there is no anti-virus program installed.  Use the supplied Internet Explorer 6 to try to download Microsoft Security Essentials.  Browsing to the page fails.   I happen to know that this is a manifestation of a browser incompatibility.

Step 3. Use the Bing search box on the default home page of Internet Explorer 6 to search for “Internet Explorer 9”.   You have to scroll down a long way before finding a real Microsoft link: who knows how much Malware the earlier links would serve up?!

Words fail me, really.

Outsourcing undermined

In the current headlong rush towards cloud services – outsourcing, in other words – leads to increasingly complex questions about what the service provider is doing with your data.  In classical outsourcing, you’d usually be able to drive to the provider’s data centre, and touch the disks and tapes holding your precious bytes (if you paid enough, anyway).  In a service-oriented world with global IT firms using data centres which follow the cheapest electricity, sometimes maybe themselves buying services from third parties, that becomes a more difficult task.

A while ago, I was at a meeting where someone posed the question “What happens when the EU’s Safe Harbour Provisions meet the Patriot Act?”.  The former is the loophole by which personal data (which normally cannot leave the EU) is allowed to be exported to data processors in third countries, provided they demonstrably meet standards equivalent to those imposed on data processors within the EU.  The latter is a far-reaching piece of legislation allowing US law enforcement agencies powers of interception and seizure of data.  The consensus at the meeting was that, of course the Patriot Act would win: the conclusion that Safe Harbour is of limited value.  Incidentally, this neatly illustrates the way that information assurance is about far more than just some crypto (or even cloud) technology.

Today, ZDNet reports that the data doesn’t even have to leave the EU for it to be within the reach of the Patriot Act:  Microsoft launched their ‘Office 365’ product, and admitted in answer to a question that data belonging to (relating to) someone in the EU, residing on Microsoft’s servers within the EU, would be surrendered by Microsoft – a US company – to US law enforcement upon a Patriot Act-compliant request.  Surely, then, any multinational (at least, those with offices? headquarters? in the US) is in the same position.  Where the subject of such a request includes personal information,  that faces them with a potential tension: they either break US law or they break EU law.  I suppose they just have to ask themselves which carries the stiffer penalties.

Now, is this a real problem or just a theoretical one? Is it a general problem with trusting the cloud, or a special case that need not delay us too long?   On one level, it’s a fairly unique degree of legal conflict, from two pieces of legislation that were rather deliberately made to be high minded and far reaching in their own domains.  But, in general, cloud-type activity is bound to raise jurisdictional conflicts: the data owner, the data processor, and the cloud service provider(s) may all be in different, or multiple, countries, and any particular legal remedy will be pursued in whichever country gives the best chance of success.

Can technology help with this?  Not as much as we might wish, I think.  The best we can hope for, I think, is an elaborate overlay of policy information and metadata so that the data owner can make rational risk-based decisions.  But that’s a big, big piece of standards work, and making it comprehensible and usable will be challenging. And, it looks like there could be at least a niche market for service providers who make a virtue of not being present in multiple jurisdictions.  In terms of trusted computing, and deciding whether the service metadata is accurate, perhaps we will need a new root of trust for location…

on an unfortunate tension

It’s frustrating when you’re not allowed to use electronic devices during the first and last fifteen minutes of a flight – sometimes much longer. I rather resent having to carry paper reading material, or to stare at the wall in those periods. On today’s flight, they even told us to switch off e-book readers.

E-book readers! Don’t these people realise that the whole point of epaper is that you don’t turn it off: it consumes a minimal amount of power, so that the Kindle can survive a month on a single charge. It has no ‘off’ switch per se, its slide switch simply invoking the “screen saver” mode. This doesn’t change the power consumption by much: it just replaces the on-screen text with pictures, and disables the push buttons.

And the answer is that of course they don’t know this stuff. Why would they? Indeed, it would be absurd to expect a busy cabin attendant to be able to distinguish, say, an ebook reader from a tablet device. If we accept for a moment the shaky premise that electronic devices might interfere with flight navigation systems, then we must accept that the airlines need to ensure that as many as possible of these are swiched off – even those with no off switch to speak of, whose electromagnetic emissions would be difficult to detect at a distance of millimetres.

Of course, this is a safety argument, but much the same applies to security. Even the best of us would struggle to look at a device, look at an interface, and decide whether it is trustworthy. This, it seems to me, is a profound problem. I’m sure evolutionary psychologists could tell us in some detail about the kind of risks we are adapted to evaluate. Although we augment those talents through nurture and education, cyber threats look different every day. Children who have grown up in a digital age will have developed much keener senses for evaluating cyber-goodness than those coming to these things later in life, but we should not delude ourselves into thinking this is purely a generational thing.

People have studied the development of trust, at some length. Although the clues for trusting people seem to be quite well established, we seem to be all over the place in deciding whether to trust an electronic interface – and will tend to do so on the basis of scant evidence. (insert citations here). That doesn’t really bode well for trying to improve the situation. In many ways, the air stewardess’s cautionary approach has much to commend it, but the adoption of computing technology always seems to have been led by a ‘try it and see’ curiosity, and we destroy that at out peril.