Of course, this junk e-mail was nothing more
than an invitation to be swindled. With my bank information, the
good doctor could clean out my savings, wiring the money through a
series of other accounts so that I would never see it again.
Like me, you probably delete dubious electronic missives like
this one without much thought. But apparently, not everyone is so
skeptical. Last year, the Nigerian banking swindle made number three
on the National Consumers League’s top-10 list of Internet scams.
The Federal Trade Commission says that Americans are losing more
than $100 million a year to international con artists. But things
could be much worse: most of the Nigerian scam letters sent through
paper mail get stopped and destroyed at the border by the U.S.
Postal Service—ironically, because they are sent with counterfeit
stamps.
But while the government vigilantly patrols our physical borders,
it is doing precious little to control our electronic ones. Consider
this: someone trying to bring fresh fruit from Europe into the
United States will be stopped by an agent of the U.S. Department of
Agriculture. But there’s nothing to protect you from the electronic
damage wrought by an infected Microsoft Word file sent to you by
some computer hacker in Iraq. Many scholars and civil libertarians
say that this is as it should be: while controls on physical borders
involve the movement of mere people and things, electronic-border
control would regulate information and ideas. Any attempt to block
the importation of ideas would be, by definition, an exercise of
state censorship. And that, many believe, is a no-no.
But an increasing number of the messages that our computers
receive each day from overseas do not carry any ideas at all. These
e-mailed files contain sequences of data designed to make our
computers crash, or worse, to break into our systems so that
foreigners can steal secrets and use our computers as bases for
attacking still more machines.
Because of this electronic onslaught, I have followed the lead of
many businesses and installed a firewall that relies on
“military-strength” cryptography. I have electronic locks, alarms
and even an automated intrusion detection system. I will defend
myself, no matter whether the attack is from the college freshman
next door or a hostile government halfway around the world.
Organizations that don’t implement these kinds of defenses are
considered both negligent and stupid.
As a computer programmer, I have enjoyed the challenge of this
constant attention to security. (I have profited from it too,
through the books I’ve written on the subject.) But I’m an unusual
case. For most businesses, spending on electronic security is like
protection money paid to the mob—necessary for survival but not
particularly productive.
This thirst for supersafe electronic security is without parallel
in the physical world. We don’t berate a fabric boutique for not
defending its perimeter with the same vigor and prowess as an
aircraft carrier floating off enemy shores. That’s because the
aircraft carrier (and the rest of the U.S. military) is the
boutique’s first line of defense. The boutique relies on the
government for much of its border control, and as a result, the
security afforded by the store’s plate glass window and five-pin
locks is usually more than sufficient.
And that’s probably where the world is headed. Just as nations
now regulate their physical frontiers, so too will they regulate
their electronic ones—using computer security rather than
objectionable ideas as their justification. Already, China and many
Middle Eastern countries have installed “national firewalls,”
blocking access to some U.S. Web sites because of their content.
France and Germany may soon do the same, blocking access to neo-Nazi
content.
At a computer conference I attended last summer, one speaker held
up a sign that showed a block of Internet addresses that were
assigned to Asia. The numbers were surrounded by one of those red
circle-and-slash marks. The speaker had gotten so tired of the
constant probes, attacks and junk e-mail from those addresses that
he had simply cut off their access to his computers. “Asia: just say
‘no,’” he said. If this mood spreads, Internet service providers
might begin to offer geography-based blocking as a value-added
service. Or perhaps there will soon be mandatory firewalls against
packets that originate in particular countries. After all, why
shouldn’t those e-mails from overseas be virus-scanned?
A big part of the Internet’s magic is the liberation from concern
over distance and borders. Last September’s terrorist attacks were
so devastating, in part, because a group of attackers from halfway
around the world reached through our national borders and attacked
civilian targets. The same basic thing—not costing lives, but
destroying property and wreaking great economic damage—happens every
day on the Internet.