A Loose Nut in Front of the Keyboard
A 13-year-old friend of mine sits in front of her computer for hours, presumably cruising the Internet. But who knows what she’s really doing? Can anyone be sure she’s not a general in a new cyber army?
Not that I’m the suspicious type, but her hands flick over that keyboard with speed and deftness. Screen displays come and go in an instant. What if she’s signaling someone? What if her serene exterior is nothing more than a masquerade? A teen-aged Mata Hari?
Paranoid? Maybe, maybe not.
A few days ago, Pacific Bell Internet Services acknowledged that someone cracked its database. The company advised all customers to change their passwords immediately or risk being unable to access their accounts.
Last month, a computer hacker who identified himself as “Maxim” tried to extort $100,000 from an Internet music retailer after telling it he had acquired more than 300,000 of its credit-card files. He then proceeded to prove it by posting a list of names and numbers.
The hacker said he was 19 years old.
Nineteen?
At 19, I was thrilled to have an AM radio. The extent of my electronic wizardry was to scan the dial. Today’s teens are such computer mavens you get the feeling they could, if they wanted, shut down commerce in America.
For the most part, teens just wanna have fun.
But what about the sinister forces among us?
Precisely the question I pose to Jeff Flynn, who has a computer security business in Irvine.
“It’s pretty easy, actually,” he says of the ability to crack computer security. “There are a lot of protocols used on the Internet. Many of those are very vulnerable to attack. There are tools that are developed [to thwart hackers], but they’re difficult to manage and they’re expensive. A lot of companies can’t afford to implement them.”
Too Often, the Password Is Inadequate
People think passwords are adequate sentries, Flynn says, but not so. If someone is really serious about getting information you have, a password alone may not be enough.
Which means what? I ask.
“We’re absolutely heading for a time when computer crimes are going to become more prevalent,” Flynn says. “It’s just a given in my mind, a matter of time before these vulnerabilities are exploited. It actually gives me hope in mankind that it isn’t epidemic now. It doesn’t take that much to do it, just a lack of morality, and there are plenty of people who lack morality.”
Many computer “crimes” amount to joy-riding, Flynn says. But there are some evil geniuses out there too.
Unfortunately, “the nefarious person could be on the other side of the world and can move at the speed of light and can look like your mother at that moment,” meaning that a hacker can assume anyone’s identity.
Cyberspace likely will alter our image of the criminal mastermind. The record industry already is stewing over fresh-faced teens pirating tunes off the Internet. To industry moguls, it’s theft; to the kids, it’s like a homework assignment.
Cyber wars go far beyond music and credit cards, however. The prey is the information stored in our computers, whether it’s medical histories, professional secrets or bank accounts.
“It’s almost like a drive-by shooting,” he says. “You’re vulnerable and you take risks in life every day. The question is whether you need to drive around in an armored car. Many times you do not.”
The unspoken part is that sometimes you do.
I confess to Flynn that I’m especially weak and vulnerable because I’m a cyber-dunce.
Perhaps spotting an opening, he says it’s possible that someone is listening and watching me right now.
Get outta town, I tell him.
Nope, it’s true, he says. A computer with a microphone attached, coupled with a fraud on the other end, and “all of a sudden, your machine is watching you.”
Scary.
Next time I see my 13-year-old Internet whiz, I’m going to be blunt:
“You don’t know anybody named Maxim, do you?”
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Dana Parsons’ column appears Wednesday, Friday and Sunday. Readers may reach Parsons by calling (714) 966-7821 or by writing to him at the Times Orange County Edition, 1375 Sunflower Ave., Costa Mesa, CA 92626, or by e-mail to dana.parsons@latimes.com.
