The censorship-industrial complex

In a sign of the times, the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences has announced that in 2029 the annual Oscars ceremony will move from ABC to YouTube, where it will be viewable worldwide for free. At Variety, Clayton Davis speculates how advertising will work – perhaps mid-roll? The obvious answer is to place the ads between the list of nominees and opening the envelope to announce the winner. Cliff-hanger!

The move is notable. Ratings for the awards show have been declining for decades. In 1960, 45.8 million people in the US watched the Oscars – live, before home video recording. In 1998, the peak, 55.2 million, after VCRs, but before YouTube. In 2024: 19.5 million. This year, the Oscars drew under 18.1 million viewers.

On top of that, broadcast TV itself is in decline. One of the biggest audiences ever gathered for a single episode of a scripted show was in 1983: 100 million, for the series finale of M*A*S*H. In 2004, the Friends finale drew 52.5 million. In 2019, the Big Bang Theory finale drew just 17.9 million. YouTube has more than 2.7 billion active users a month. Whatever ABC was paying for the Oscars, reach may matter more than money, especially in an industry that is also threatened by shrinking theater audiences. In the UK, YouTube is second most-watched TV service ($), after only the BBC.

The move suggests that the US audience itself may also not be as uniquely important as it was historically. The Academy’s move fits into many other similar trends.

***

During this week’s San Francisco power outage, an apparently unexpected consequence was that non-functioning traffic lights paralyzed many of the city’s driverless Waymo taxis. In its blog posting, the company says, “While the Waymo Driver is designed to handle dark traffic signals as four-way stops, it may occasionally request a confirmation check to ensure it makes the safest choice. While we successfully traversed more than 7,000 dark signals on Saturday, the outage created a concentrated spike in these requests. This created a backlog that, in some cases, led to response delays contributing to congestion on already-overwhelmed streets.”

Friends in San Francisco note that the California Driver’s Handbook (under “Traffic Control”) is specific about what to do in such situations: treat the intersection as if it had all-way stop signs. It’s a great example of trusting human social cooperation.

Robocars are, of course, not in on this game. In an uncertain situation they can’t read us. So the volume of requests overwhelmed the remote human controllers and the cars froze, blocking intersections and even sidewalks. Waymo suspended the service temporarily, and says it is updating the cars’ software to make them act “more decisively” in such situations in future.

Of course, all these companies want to do away with the human safety drivers and remote controllers as they improve cars’ programming to incorporate more edge cases. I suspect, however, that we’ll never really reach the point where humans aren’t needed; there will always be new unforeseen issues. Driving a car is a technical challenge. Sharing the roads with others is a social effort requiring the kind of fuzzy flexibility computers are bad at. Getting rid of the humans will mean deciding what level of dysfunction we’re willing to accept from the cars.

Self-driving taxis are coming to London in 2026, and I’m struggling to imagine it. It’s a vastly more complex city to navigate than San Francisco, and has many narrow, twisty little streets to flummox programmers used to newer urban grids.

***

The US State Department has announced sanctions barring five people and potentially their families from obtaining visas to enter or stay in the US, labeling them radical activists and weaponized NGOs. They are: Imran Ahmed, an ex-Labour advisor and founder and CEO of the Centre for Countering Digital Hate; Clare Melford, founder of the Global Disinformation Index; Thierry Breton, a former member of the European Commission, whom under secretary of state for public diplomacy Sarah B. Rogers, called “a mastermind” of the Digital Services Act; and Josephine Ballon and Anna-Lena von Hodenberg, managing directors of the independent German organization HateAid, which supports people affected by digital violence. Ahmed, who lived in Washington, DC, has filed suit to block his deportation; a judge has issued a temporary restraining order.

It’s an odd collection as a “censorship-industrial complex”. Breton is no longer in a position to make laws calling US Big Tech to account; his inclusion is presumably a warning shot to anyone seeking to promote further regulation of this type. GDI’s site’s last “news” posting was in 2022. HateAid has helped a client file suit against Google in August 2025, and sued X in July for failing to remove criminal antisemitic content. The Center for Countering Digital Hate has also been in court to oppose antisemitic content on X and Instagram; in 2024 Elon Musk called it a ‘criminal organization’. There was more logic to”the three people in hell” taught to an Irish friend as a child (Cromwell, Queen Elizabeth I, and Martin Luther).

Whatever the Trump administration’s intention, the result is likely to simply add more fuel to initiatives to lessen European dependence on US technology.

Illustrations: Christmas tree in front of the US Capitol in 2020 (via Wikimedia).

Wendy M. Grossman is an award-winning journalist. Her Web site has an extensive archive of her books, articles, and music, and an archive of earlier columns in this series. She is a contributing editor for the Plutopia News Network podcast. Follow on Mastodon or Bluesky.

The gated web

What is an AI browser?

Or, in a more accurate representation of my mental reaction, *WTF* is an AI browser?

In wondering about this, I’m clearly behind the times. Tech sites are already doing roundups of their chosen “best” ones. At Mashable, Cecily Mouran compares “top” AI browsers because “The AI browser wars hath begun.”

Is the war that no one wants these things but they’re being forced on us anyway? Because otherwise…it’s just a bunch of heavily financed companies trying to own a market they think will be worth billions.

In Tim Berners-Lee’s original version, the web was meant to simplify sharing information. A key element was giving users control over presentation. Then came designers, who hated that idea. That battle between users’ preferences and browser makers’ interests continues to this day. What most people mean by the browser wars), though, was the late-1990s fight between Microsoft and Netscape, or the later burst of competition around smartphones. A big concern has long been market domination: a monopoly could seek to slowly close down the web by creating proprietary additions to the open standards and lock all others out.

Mouran, citing Casey Newton’s Platformer newsletter, suggests that Google specifically has exploited its browser to increase search use (and therefore ad revenues), partly by merging the address and search bars. I know I’m not typical, but for me search remains a separate activity. Most of the time I’m following a link or scanning familiar sites. Yes, when my browser history fills in a URL, I guess you could say I’m searching the browser history, but to me the better analogy is scanning an array of daily newspapers. Many people *also* use their browser to access cloud-based productivity software and email or play online games, none of which is search.

Nor are chatbots, since they don’t actually *find* information; they apply mathematics and statistics to a load of ingested text and create sentences by predicting the most likely next word. This is why Emily Bender and Alex Hanna call them “synthetic text extruding machines” in their book, The AI Con. I am in the business of trying to make sense of the impact of fast-moving technology, or at least of documenting the conflicts it creates. The only chatbot I’ve found of any value for this – or for personal needs such as a tech issue – is Perplexity, and that’s because it cites (or can be ordered to cite) sources one can check. There is every difference in the world between just wanting an answer and wanting the background from which to derive an answer that may possibly be new.

In any event, Newton’s take is that a company that’s serious about search must build its own browser. Therefore: AI companies are building them. Hence these roundups. Mauron’s pitch: “Imagine a browser that acts as your research assistant, plans trips, sends emails, and schedules meetings. As AI models become more advanced, they’re capable of autonomously handling more complex tasks on your behalf. For tech companies, the browser is the perfect medium for realizing this vision.”

OK, I can see exactly what it does for tech companies. It gives them control over what information you can access, how you use it, and who and how much you pay for the services its agent selects (plus it gets a commission).

I can also see what it does for employers. My browser agent can call your browser agent and negotiate a meeting plan. Then they attend the meeting on our behalf and send us both summaries, which they ingest and file, later forwarding them to our bosses’ agents to verify we were at work that day. In between, they can summarize emails, and decide which ones we need to see. (As Charles Arthur quipped at The Overspill, “Could they…send fewer emails?”)

Remember when part of the excitement of the Internet was the direct access it gave to people who were formerly inaccessible? Now, we appear to be building systems to ensure that every human is their own gated community.

What part of this is good for users? If you are fortunate enough not to care about the price of anything, maybe it’s great to replace your personal assistant with an agentic web browser. Most of us have struggled along doing things for ourselves and each other. At Cybernews, Mayank Sharma warns that AI browsers’ intentional preemption of efforts to browse for yourself, filtering anything they deem “irrelevant”, threaten the open web. Newton quantifies the drop in traffic news publishers are already seeing from generative AI. Will we soon be complaining about information underload?

At Pluralistic last year, Cory Doctorow wrote about the importance of faithful agents: software that is loyal to us rather than its maker. He particularly focused on browsers, which have gone from that initial vision of user control to become software that spies on us and reports home. In Mauron’s piece, Perplexity openly hopes to use chats to build user profiles and eventually show ads.

The good news, such as it is, is that from what I’ve read in writing this, most of these companies hope to charge for these browsers – AI as a subscription service. So avoiding them is also cheaper. Double win.

Illustrations: John Tenniel’s drawing of Davy Jones, sitting on his locker (via Wikimedia, published in Punch, 1892 with the caption, “AHA! SO LONG AS THEY STICK TO THEM OLD CHARTS, NO FEAR O’ MY LOCKER BEIN’ EMPTY!!”

Wendy M. Grossman is an award-winning journalist. Her Web site has an extensive archive of her books, articles, and music, and an archive of earlier columns in this series. She is a contributing editor for the Plutopia News Network podcast. Follow on Mastodon or Bluesky.

Software is still forever

On October 14, a few months after the tenth anniversary of its launch, Microsoft will end support for Windows 10. That is, Microsoft will no longer issue feature or security updates or provide technical support, and everyone is supposed to either upgrade their computers to Windows 11 or, if Microsoft’s installer deems the hardware inadequate, replace them with newer models. People who “need more time”, in the company’s phrasing, can buy a year’s worth of security updates. Either way, Microsoft profits at our expense.

In 2014, Microsoft similarly end-of-lifed 13-year-old Windows XP. Then, many were unsympathetic to complaints about it; many thought it unreasonable to expect a company to maintain software for that long. Yet it was obvious even then that software lives on with or without support for far longer than people expect, and also that trashing millions of functional computers was stupidly wasteful. Microsoft is giving Windows 10 a *shorter* life, which is rather obviously the wrong direction for a planet drowning in electronic waste.

XP’s end came at a time when the computer industry was transitioning from adolescence to maturity. As long as personal computing was being constrained by the limited capabilities of hardware and research and development was improving them at a fast pace, a software company like Microsoft could count on frequent new sales. By 2014, that happy time had ended, and although computers continue to add power and speed, it’s not coming back. The same pattern has been repeated with phones, which no longer improve on an 18-month cycle as in the 2010s, and cameras.

For the vast majority, there’s no reason to replace their old machine unless a non-replaceable part is failing – and there should be less of that as manufacturers are forced to embrace repairability. Significantly, there’s less and less difference for many of us if we keep the old hardware and switch to Linux, eliminating Microsoft entirely.

Those fast-moving days were real obsolescence. What we have now is what we used to call “planned obsolescence”. That is, *forced* obsolescence that companies impose on us because it’s convenient and profitable for *them*.

This time round, people are more critical, not least because of the vast amounts of ewaste being generated. The Public Interest Research Group has written an open letter asking people to petition Microsoft to extend free support for Windows 10. As Ed Bott explains at ZDNet, you do have the option of kicking the can down the road by paying for updates for another three years.

The other antisocial side of terminating free security updates is that millions of those still-functional machines will remain in use, and will be increasingly insecure as new vulnerabilities are discovered and left unpatched.

Simultaneously, Windows is enshittifying; it’s harder to run Windows without a Microsoft login; avoid stupid gewgaws and unwanted news headlines, and turn off its “Copilot AI”. Tom Warren reports at The Verge that Microsoft wants to turn Copilot into an agent that can book restaurants and control its Edge browser. There are, it appears, ways to defeat all this in Windows 11, but for how long?

In a piece on solar technology, Doctorow outlines the process by which technology companies seize control once they can no longer rely on consumer demand to drive sales. They lock down their technology if they can, lock in customers, add advertising and block market entry claiming safety and/or security make it necessary. They write and lobby for legislation that enshrines their advantage. And they use technological changes to render past products obsolete. Many think this is the real story behind the insistence on forcing unwanted “AI” features into everything: it’s the one thing they can do to make their offerings sound new.

Seen in that light, the rush to build “AI” into everything becomes a rush to find a way to force people to buy new stuff. The problem is that – it feels like – most people don’t see much benefit in it, and go around turning off the AI features that are forced on them. Microsoft’s Recall feature, which takes a screen snapshot every few seconds, was so controversial at launch that the company rolled it back – for a while, anyway.

Carelessness about ewaste is everywhere, particularly with respect to the Internet of Things. This week: Logitech’s Pop smart home buttons. At least when Google ended support for older Nest thermostats they could go on working as “dumb” thermostats (which honestly seems like the best kind).

Ewaste is getting a whole lot worse when it desperately needs to be getting a whole lot better.

***

In the ongoing rollout of the Online Safety Act and age verification update, at 404 Media, Joseph Cox reports that Discord has become the first site reporting a hack of age verification data. Hackers have collected data pertaining to 70,000 users, including selfies, identity documents, email addresses, approximate residences, and so on, and are trying to extort Discord, which says the hackers breached one of its third-party vendors that handles age-related appeals. Security practitioners warned about this from the beginning.

In addition, Ofcom has launched a new consultation for the next round of Online Safety Act enforcement. Up next are livestreaming and algorithmic recommendations; the Open Rights Group has an explainer, as does lawyer Graham Smith. The consultation closes on October 20.

Illustrations: One use for old computers – movie stardom, as here in Brazil.

Wendy M. Grossman is an award-winning journalist. Her Web site has an extensive archive of her books, articles, and music, and an archive of earlier columns in this series. She is a contributing editor for the Plutopia News Network podcast. Follow on Mastodon or Bluesky.

A hole is a hole

We told you so.

By “we” I mean thousands, of privacy advocates, human rights activists, technical experts, and information security journalists.

By “so”, I mean: we all said repeatedly over decades that there is no such thing as a magic hole that only “good guys” can use. If you build a supposedly secure system but put in a hole to give the “authorities” access to communications, that hole can and will be exploited by “bad guys” you didn’t want spying on you.

The particular hole Chinese hackers used to spy on the US is the Communications Assistance for Law Enforcement Act (1994). CALEA mandates that telecommunications providers design their equipment so that they can wiretap any customer if law enforcement presents a warrant. At Techcrunch, Zack Whittaker recaps much of the history, tracing technology giants’ new emphasis on end-to-end encryption to the 2013 Snowden revelations of the government’s spying on US citizens.

The mid-1990s were a time of profound change for telecommunications: the Internet was arriving, exchanges were converting from analog to digital, and deregulation was providing new competition for legacy telcos. In those pre-broadband years, hundreds of ISPs offered dial-up Internet access. Law enforcement could no longer just call up a single central office to place a wiretap. When CALEA was introduced, critics were clear and prolific; for an in-depth history see Susan Landau’s and Whit Diffie’s book, Privacy on the Line (originally published 1998, second edition 2007). The net.wars archive includes a compilation of years of related arguments, and at Techdirt, Mike Masnick reviews the decades of law enforcement insistence that they need access to encrypted text. “Lawful access” is the latest term of art.

In the immediate post-9/11 shock, some of those who insisted on the 1990s version of today’s “lawful access” – key escrow, took the opportunity to tell their opponents (us) that the attacks proved we’d been wrong. One such was the just-departed Jack Straw, the home secretary from 1997 to (June) 2001, who blamed BBC Radio Four and “…large parts of the industry, backed by some people who I think will now recognise they were very naive in retrospect”. That comment sparked the first net.wars column. We could now say, “Right back atcha.”

Whatever you call an encryption backdoor, building a hole into communications security was, is, and will always be a dangerous idea, as the Dutch government recently told the EU. Now, we have hard evidence.

***

The time is long gone when people used to be snobbish about Internet addresses (see net.wars-the-book, chapter three). Most of us are therefore unlikely to have thought much about the geekishly popular “.io”. It could be a new-fangled generic top-level domain – but it’s not. We have been reading linguistic meaning into what is in fact a country code. Which is all fine and good, except that the country it belongs to is the Chagos Islands, also known as the British Indian Ocean Territory, which I had never heard of until the British government announced recently that it will hand the islands back to Mauritius (instead of asking the Chagos Islanders what they want…). Gareth Edwards made the connection: when that transfer happens, .io will cease to exist (h/t Charles Arthur’s The Overspill).

Edwards goes on to discuss the messy history of orphaned country code domains: Yugoslavia, and the Soviet Union. As a result, ICANN, the naming authority, now has strict rules that mandate termination in such cases. This time, there’s a lot at stake: .io is a favorite among gamers, crypto companies, and many others, some of them substantial businesses. Perhaps a solution – such as setting .io up anew as a gTLD with its domains intact – will be created. But meantime, it’s worth noting that the widely used .tv (Tuvalu), .fm (Federated States of Micronesia), and .ai (Anguilla) are *also* country code domains.

***

The story of what’s going on with Automattic, the owner of the blogging platform WordPress.com, and WP Engine, which provides hosting and other services for businesses using WordPress, is hella confusing. It’s also worrying: WordPress, which is open source content management software overseen by the WordPress Foundation, powers a little over 40% of the Internet’s top ten million websites and more than 60% of sites overall (including this one).

At Heise Online, Kornelius Kindermann offers one of the clearer explanations: Automattic, whose CEO, Matthew Mullenweg is also a director of the WordPress Foundation and a co-creator of the software, wants WP Engine, which has been taken over by the investment company Silver Lake, to pay “trademark royalties” of 8% to the WordPress Foundation to support the software. WP Engine doesn’t wanna. Kindermann estimates the sum involved at $35 million, After the news of all that broke, 159 employees have announced they are leaving Automattic.

The more important point that, like the users of the encrypted services governments want to compromise, the owners of .io domains, or, ultimately, the Chagos Islanders themselves, WP Engine’s customers, some of them businesses worth millions, are hostages of uncertainty surrounding the decisions of others. Open source software is supposed to give users greater control. But as always, complexity brings experts and financial opportunities, and once there’s money everyone wants some of it.

Illustrations: View of the Chagos Archipelago taken during ISS Expedition 60 (NASA, via Wikimedia).

Wendy M. Grossman is the 2013 winner of the Enigma Award. Her Web site has an extensive archive of her books, articles, and music, and an archive of earlier columns in this series. She is a contributing editor for the Plutopia News Network podcast. Follow on Mastodon.

Blown

“This is a public place. Everyone has the right to be left in peace,” Jane (Vanessa Redgrave) tells Thomas (David Hemmings), whom she’s just spotted photographing her with her lover in the 1966 film Blow-Up, by Michelangelo Antonioni. The movie, set in London, proceeds as a mystery in which Thomas’s only tangible evidence is a grainy, blown-up shot of a blob that may be a murdered body.

Today, Thomas would probably be wielding a latest-model smartphone instead of a single lens reflex film camera. He would not bother to hide behind a tree. And Jane would probably never notice, much less challenge Thomas to explain his clearly-not-illegal, though creepy, behavior. Phones and cameras are everywhere. If you want to meet a lover and be sure no one’s photographing you, you don’t go to a public park, even one as empty as the film finds Maryon Park. Today’s 20-somethings grew up with that reality, and learned early to agree some gatherings are no-photography zones.

Even in the 1960s individuals had cameras, but taking high-quality images at a distance was the province of a small minority of experts; Antonioni’s photographer was a professional with his own darkroom and enlarging equipment. The first CCTV cameras went up in the 1960s; their proliferation became public policy issue in the 1980s, and was propagandized as “for your safety without much thought in the post-9/11 2000s. In the late 2010s, CCTV surveillance became democratized: my neighbor’s Ring camera means no one can leave an anonymous gift on their doorstep – or (without my consent) mine.

I suspect one reason we became largely complacent about ubiquitous cameras is that the images mostly remained unidentifiable, or at least unidentified. Facial recognition – especially the live variant police seem to feel they have the right to set up at will – is changing all that. Which all leads to this week, when Joseph Cox at 404 Media reports ($) (and Ars Technica summarizes) that two Harvard students have mashed up a pair of unremarkable $300 Meta Ray-Bans with the reverse image search service Pimeyes and a large language model to produce I-XRAY, an app that identifies in near-real time most of the people they pass on the street, including their name, home address, and phone number.

The students – AnhPhu Nguyen and Caine Ardayfio – are smart enough to realize the implications, imagining for Cox the scenario of a random male spotting a young woman and following her home. This news is breaking the same week that the San Francisco Standard and others are reporting that two men in San Francisco stood in front of a driverless Waymo taxi to block it from proceeding while demanding that the female passenger inside give them her phone number (we used to give such males the local phone number for time and temperature).

Nguyen and Ardayfio aren’t releasing the code they’ve written, but what two people can do, others with fewer ethics can recreate independently, as 30 years of Black Hat and Def Con have proved. This is a new level of democratizated surveillance. Today, giant databases like Clearview AI are largely only accessible to governments and law enforcement. But the data in them has been scraped from the web, like LLMs’ training data, and merged with commercial sources

This latest prospective threat to privacy has been created by the marriage of three technologies that were developed separately by different actors without regard to one another and, more important, without imagining how one might magnify the privacy risks of the others. A connected car with cameras could also run I-XRAY.

The San Francisco story is a good argument against allowing cars on the roads without steering wheels, pedals, and other controls or *something* to allow a passenger to take charge to protect their own safety. In Manhattan cars waiting at certain traffic lights often used to be approached by people who would wash the windshield and demand payment. Experienced drivers knew to hang back at red lights so they could roll forward past the oncoming would-be washer. How would you do this in a driverless car with no controls?

We’ve long known that people will prank autonomous cars. Coverage focused on the safety of the *cars* and the people and vehicles surrounding them, not the passengers. Calling a remote technical support line for help is never going to get a good enough response.

What ties these two cases together – besides (potentially) providing new ways to harass women – is the collision between new technologies and human nature. Plus, the merger of three decades’ worth of piled-up data and software that can make things happen in the physical world.

Arguably, we should have seen this coming, but the manufacturers of new technology have never been good at predicting what weird things their users will find to do with it. This mattered less when the worst outcome was using spreadsheet software to write letters. Today, that sort of imaginative failure is happening at scale in software that controls physical objects and penetrates the physical world. The risks are vastly greater and far more unsettling. It’s not that we can’t see the forest for the trees; it’s that we can’t see the potential for trees to aggregate into a forest.

Illustrations: Jane (Vanessa Redgrave) and her lover, being photographed by Thomas (David Hemmings) in Michelangelo Antonioni’s 1966 film, Blow-Up.

Wendy M. Grossman is the 2013 winner of the Enigma Award. Her Web site has an extensive archive of her books, articles, and music, and an archive of earlier columns in this series. She is a contributing editor for the Plutopia News Network podcast. Follow on Mastodon.

Crowdstricken

This time two weeks ago the media were filled with images from airports clogged with travelers unable to depart because of…a software failure. Not a cyberattack, and not, as in 2017, limited to a single airline’s IT systems failure.

The outage wasn’t just in airports: NHS hospitals couldn’t book appointments, the London Stock Exchange news service and UK TV channel Sky News stopped functioning, and much more. It was the biggest computer system outage not caused by an attack to date, a watershed moment like 1988’s Internet worm.

Experienced technology observers quickly predicted: “bungled software update”. There are prior examples aplenty. In February, an AT&T outage lasted more than 12 hours, spanned 50 US states, Puerto Rico, and the US Virgin Islands, and blocked an estimated 25,000 attempted calls to the 911 emergency service. Last week, the Federal Communications Commission attributed the cause to an employee’s addition of a “misconfigured network element” to expand capacity without following the established procedure of peer review. The resulting cascade of failures was an automated response designed to prevent a misconfigured device from propagating. AT&T has put new preventative controls in place, and FCC chair Jessica Rosenworcel said the agency is considering how to increase accountabiliy for failing to follow best practice.

Much of this history is recorded in Peter G. Neumann’s ongoing RISKS Forum mailing list. In 2014, an update Apple issued to fix a flaw in a health app blocked users of its then-new iPhone 6 from connecting. In 2004, a failed modem upgrade knocked Cox Communications subscribers offline. My first direct experience was in the 1990s, when for a day CompuServe UK subsccribers had to dial Germany to pick up our email.

In these previous cases, though, the individuals affected had a direct relationship with the screw-up company. What’s exceptional about Crowdstrike is that the directly affected “users” were its 29,000 huge customer businesses. It was those companies’ resulting failures that turned millions of us into hostages to technological misfortune.

What’s more, in those earlier outages only one company and their direct customers were involved, and understanding the problem was relatively simple. In the case of Crowdstrike, it was hard to pinpoint the source of the problem at first because the direct effects were scattered (only Windows PCs awake to receive Crowdstrike updates) and the indirect effects were widespread.

The technical explanation of what happened, simplified, goes like this: Crowdstrike issued an update to its Falcon security software to block malware it spotted exploiting a vulnerability in Windows. The updated Falcon software sparked system crashes as PCs reacted to protect themselves against potential low-level damage (like a circuit breaker in your house tripping to protect your wiring from overload). Crowdstrike realized the error and pushed out a corrected update 79 minutes later. That fixed machines that hadn’t yet installed the faulty update. The machines that had updated in those 79 minutes, however, were stuck in a doom loop, crashing every time they restarted. Hence the need for manual intervention to remove those files in order to reboot successfully.

Microsoft initially estimated that 8.5 million PCs were affected – but that’s probably a wild underestimate as the only machines it could count were those that had crash reporting turned on.

The root cause is still unclear. Crowdstrike has said it found a hole in its Content Validator Tool, which should have caught the flaw. Microsoft is complaining that a 2009 interoperability agreement forced on it by the EU required it to allow Crowdstrike’s software to operate at the very low level on Windows machines that pushed the systems to crash. It’s wrong, however, to blame companies for enabling automated updates; security protection has to respond to new threats in real time.

The first financial estimates are emerging. Delta Airlines estimates the outage, which borked its crew tracking system for a week, cost it $500 million. CEO Ed Bastian told CNN, “They haven’t offered us anything.” Delta has hired lawyer David Boies, whose high-profile history began with leading the successful 1990s US government prosecution of Microsoft, to file its lawsuit.

Delta will need to take a number. Massachusetts-based Plymouth County Retirement Association has already filed a class action suit on behalf of Crowdstrike shareholders in Texas federal court, where Crowdstrike is headquartered, for misrepresenting its software and its capabilities. Crowdstrike says the case lacks merit.

Lawsuits are likely the only way companies will get recompense unless they have insurance to cover supplier-caused system failures. Like all software manufacturers, Crowdstrike has disclaimed all liability in its terms of use.

In a social media post, Federal Trade Commission chair Lina Khan said that, “These incidents reveal how concentration can create fragile systems.”

Well, yes. Technology experts have long warned of the dangers of monocultures that make our world more brittle. The thing is, we’re stuck with them because of scale. There were good reasons why the dozens of early network and operating systems consolidated: it’s simpler and cheaper for hiring, maintenance, and even security. Making our world less brittle will require holding companies – especially those that become significant points of failure – to meet higher standards of professionalism, including product liability for software, and requiring their customers to boost their resilience.

As for Crowdstrike, it is doomed to become that worst of all things for a company: a case study at business schools everywhere.

Illustrations: XKCD’s Dependency comic, altered by Mary Branscombe to reflect Crowdstrike’s reality.

Wendy M. Grossman is the 2013 winner of the Enigma Award. Her Web site has an extensive archive of her books, articles, and music, and an archive of earlier columns in this series. She is a contributing editor for the Plutopia News Network podcast. Follow on Mastodon.

Microsoft can remember it for you wholesale

A new theory: somewhere in the Silicon Valley universe there’s a cadre of techies who have eidetic memories and they’re feeling them start to slip. Panic time.

That’s my best explanation for Microsoft’s latest wheeze, a new feature for its Copilot assistant that will take what’s variously called a “snapshot” or a “screenshot” of your computer (all three monitors?) every five seconds and store it for future reference. Microsoft hasn’t explained much about Recall’s inner technical workings, but according to the announcement, the data will be stored locally and will be searchable via semantic associations and some sort of “AI”. Microsoft also says the data will not be used to train AI models.

The general anger and dismay at this plan brings back, almost nostalgically, memories of the 1990s, when Microsoft was near-universally hated as the evil monopolist dominating computing. In 2008, when Google was ten years old, a BBC presenter asked me if I thought Google would ever be hated as much as Microsoft was (not then, no). In 2012, veteran journalist Charles Arthur published the book Digital Wars about how Microsoft had stagnated and lost its lead. And then suddenly, in the last few years, it’s back on top.

Possibilities occur that Microsoft doesn’t mention. For example: could software might be embedded into Windows to draw inferences from the data Recall saves? And could those inferences be forwarded to the company or used to target you with ads? That seems like a far more efficient way to invade users’ privacy than copying the data itself, if that’s what the company ultimately wants to do.

Lots of things on our computers already retain a “memory” of what we’ve been doing. Operating systems generate logs to help debug problems. Word processors retain a changelog, which powers the ability to undo mistakes. Web browsers have user-configurable histories; email software has archives; media players retain playlists. All of those are useful – but part of that usefulness is that they are contextual, limited, and either easily terminated by closing the relevant application or relatively easily edited to remove items that shouldn’t be kept.

It’s hard for almost everyone who isn’t Microsoft to understand the point of keeping everything by default. It seems like a feature only developers could love. I certainly would like Windows to be better at searching for stored files or my (Firefox) browser to be better at reloading that article I was reading yesterday. I have even longed for a personal version of Vannevar Bush’s Memex. As part of that, I might welcome a feature that let me hit a button to record the last five useful minutes of a meeting, or save a social media post to a local archive. But the key to that sort of memory expansion is curation, not remembering everything promiscuously. For most people, selective forgetting is how we survive the torrents of irrelevance hurled at us every day.

What Recall sounds most like is the lifelog science fiction writer Charlie Stross imagined in 2007 might be our future. Plummeting storage costs and expanding capacity, he reasoned, would make it possible to store *everything* in your pocket. Even then, there were (a very few) people doing that sort of thing, most notably Steve Mann, a University of Toronto professor who started wearing devices to comprhensively capture his life as a 1990s graduate student. Over the years, Mann has shrunk his personal gadget array from a laptop and peripherals to glasses and pocket devices. Many more people capture their surroundings now – but they do it on their phones. If Apple or Google were proposing a Recall feature for iOS or Android, the idea would seem a lot less weird.

The real issue is that there are many people who would like to be able to know what somone *else* has been doing on their computer at all times. Helicopter parents. Schools and teachers under government compulsion (see for example Prevent (PDF)). Employers. Border guards. Corporate spies. The Department of Work and Pensions. Authoritarian governments. Law enforcement and security agencies. Criminals. Domestic abusers… So developing any feature like this must include considering how to protect it against these threats. This does not appear to have happened.

Many others have written about the privacy issues in all this – the UK’s Information Commission’s Office is already investigating. At The Register, Richard Speed does a particularly good job of looking at some of the fine details. On Mastodon, Kevin Beaumont says inspection of the Copilot+ software suggests that Recall stores the text it extracts from all those snapshots into an easily copiable SQlite database.

But there’s still more. The kind of archive Recall appears to construct can teach an attacker how the target thinks: not just what passwords they choose but how they devise them.Those patterns can be highly valuable. Granted, few targets are worth that level of attention, but it happens, as Peter Davies, a technical director at eThales, has often warned.

Recall is not the only move – see also flawed-AI-with-everything – that suggests that the computer industry, like some politicians and governments, is badly losing touch with the public. Increasingly, what they want to do seems unrelated to what the rest of us want. If they think things like Recall are a good idea they need to read more Philip K. Dick. And then don’t invent the Torment Nexus.

Illustrations: Arnold Schwarzenegger seeking better memories in the 1990 film Total Recall.

Wendy M. Grossman is the 2013 winner of the Enigma Award. Her Web site has an extensive archive of her books, articles, and music, and an archive of earlier columns in this series. She is a contributing editor for the Plutopia News Network podcast. Follow on Mastodon..

Irrevocable

One of the biggest advances in computing in my lifetime is the “Undo” button. Younger people will have no idea of this, but at one time if you accidentally deleted the piece you’d spent hours typing into your computer, it was just…gone forever.

This week, UK media reported on what seems to be an unusual but not unique case: a solicitor accidentally opened the wrong client’s divorce case on her computer screen and went on to apply for a final decree for the couple concerned. The court granted the divorce in a standardly automated 21 minutes, even though the specified couple had not yet agreed on a financial settlement. Despite acknowledging the error, the court now refuses to overturn the decree. UK lawyers of my acquaintance say that this obvious unfairness may be because granting the final decree sets in motion other processes that are difficult to reverse.

That triggers a memory of the time I accidentally clicked on “cancel” instead of “check in” on a flight reservation, and casually, routinely, clicked again to confirm. I then watched in horror as the airline website canceled the flight. The undo button in this case was to phone customer service. Minutes later, they reinstated the reservation and thereafter I checked in without incident. Undone!

Until the next day, when I arrived in the US and my name wasn’t on the manifest. The one time I couldn’t find my boarding pass… After a not-long wait that seeemd endless in a secondary holding area (which I used to text people to tell them where I was just in case) I explained the rogue cancellation and was let go. Whew! (And yes, I know: citizen, white, female privilege.)

“Ease of use” should include making it hard to make irrecoverable mistakes. And maybe a grace period before automated processes cascade.

The Guardian quotes family court division head Sir Andrew McFarlane explaining that the solicitor’s error was not easy to make: “Like many similar online processes, an operator may only get to the final screen where the final click of the mouse is made after traveling through a series of earlier screens,” Huh? If you think you have opened the right case, then those are the screens you would expect to see. Why wouldn’t you go ahead?

At the Law Gazette, John Hyde reports that the well-known law firm in question, Vardag, is backing the young lawyer who made the error, describing it as a “slip up with the drop down menu” on “the new divorce portal”, noting that similar errors had happened “a few times” and felt like a design error.

“Design errors” can do a lot of damage. Take paying a business or person via online banking. In the UK, until recently, you entered account name, number, and sort code, and confirmed to send. If you made a mistake, tough. If the account information was sent by a scammer instead of the recipient you thought, tough. It was only in 2020 that most banks began participating in “Confirmation of payee”, which verifies the account with the receiving bank and checks with you that the name is correct. In 2020, Which? estimated that confirming payee could have saved £320 million in bank transfer fraud since 2017.

Similarly, while many more important factors caused the Horizon scandal, software design played its part: subpostmasters could not review past transactions as they could on paper.

Many computerized processes are blocked unless precursor requirements have been completed and checked for compliance. A legally binding system seems like it similarly ought to incorporate checks to ensure that all necessary steps had been completed.

Arguably, software design is failing users. In ecommerce, user-hostile software design is deceptive, or “dark”, patterns, user interfaces built deliberately to manipulate users into buying/spending more than they intended. The clutter that makes Amazon unusable directs shoppers to its house brands.

User interface design is where I began writing about computers circa 1990. Windows 3 was new, and the industry was just discovering that continued growth depended on reaching past those who *liked* software to be difficult. I vividly recall being told by a usability person at then-market leader Lotus about the first time her company’s programmers watched ordinary people using their software. First one fails to complete task. “Well, that’s a stupid person.” Second one. “Well, that’s a stupid person, too.” Third one. “Where do you find these people?” But after watching a couple more, they got it.

In the law firm’s case, the designers likely said, “This system is just for expert users”. True, but what they’re expert in is law, not software. Hopefully the software will now be redesigned to reflect the rule that it should be as easy as possible to do the work but as hard as possible to make unrecoverable mistakes (the tolerance principle). It’s a simple idea that goes all the way back to Donald Norman’s classic 1988. book The Design of Everyday Things.

At a guess, if today’s “AI” automation systems become part of standard office work making mistakes will become easier rather than harder, partly because it makes systems more inscrutable. In addition, the systems being digitized are increasingly complex with more significant consequences reaching deep into people’s lives, and intended to serve the commissioning corporations’ short-term desires. It will not be paranoid to believe the world is stacked against us.

Illustrations: Cary Grant and Rosalind Russell as temporarily divorced newspapermen in His Girl Friday (1944).

Wendy M. Grossman is the 2013 winner of the Enigma Award. Her Web site has an extensive archive of her books, articles, and music, and an archive of earlier columns in this series. She is a contributing editor for the Plutopia News Network podcast. Follow on Mastodon.

Infallibile

It’s a peculiarity of the software industry that no one accepts product liability. If your word processor gibbers your manuscript, if your calculator can’t subtract, if your phone’s security hole results in your bank account’s being drained, if a chatbot produces entirely false results….it’s your problem, not the software company’s. As software starts driving cars, running electrical grids, and deciding who gets state benefits, the lack of liability will matter in new and dangerous ways. In his 2006 paper, The Economics of Information Security, Ross Anderson writes about the “moral-hazard effect” connection between liability and fraud: if you are not liable, you become lazy and careless. Hold that thought.

To it add: in the British courts, there is a legal presumption that computers are reliable. Suggestions that this law should be changed go back at least 15 years, but this week they gained new force. It sounds absurd if applied to today’s complex computer systems, but the law was framed with smaller mechanical devices such as watches and Breathalyzers in mind. It means, however, that someone – say a subpostmaster – accused of theft has to find a way to show the accounting system computer was not operating correctly.

Put those two factors together and you get the beginnings of the Post Office Horizon scandal, which currently occupies just about all of Britain following ITV’s New Year’s airing of the four-part drama Mr Bates vs the Post Office.

For those elsewhere: this is the Post Office Horizon case, which is thought to be one of the worst miscarriages of justice in British history. The vast majority of the country’s post offices are run by subpostmasters, each of whom runs their own business under a lengthy and detailed contract. Many, as I learned in 2004, operate their post office counters inside other businesses; most are news agents, but some share old police stations and hairdressers.

In 1999, the Post Office began rolling out the “Horizon” computer accounting system, which was developed by ICL, formerly a British company but by then owned by Fujitsu. Subpostmasters soon began complaining that the new system reported shortfalls where none existed. Under their contract, subpostmasters bore all liability for discrepancies. The Post Office accordingly demanded payment and prosecuted those from whom it was not forthcoming. Many lost their businesses, their reputations, their homes, and much of their lives, and some were criminally convicted.

In May 2009, Karl Flinders published the first of dozens of articles on the growing scandal. Perhaps most important: she located seven subpostmasters who were willing to be identified. Soon afterwards, Welsh former subpostmaster Alan Bates convened the Justice for Subpostmasters Alliance, which continues to press for exoneration and compensation for the many hundreds of victims.

Pieces of this saga were known, particularly after a 2015 BBC Panorama documentary. Following the drama’s airing, the UK government is planning legislation to exonerate all the Horizon victims and fast-track compensation. The program has also drawn new attention to the ongoing public inquiry, which…makes the Post Office look so much worse, as do the Panorama team’s revelations of its attempts to suppress the evidence they uncovered. The Metropolitan Police is investigating the Post Office for fraud.

Two elements stand out in this horrifying saga. First: each subpostmaster calling the help line for assistance was told they were the only one having trouble with the system. They were further isolated by being required to sign NDAs. Second: the Post Office insisted that the system was “robust” – that is, “doesn’t make mistakes”. The defendants were doubly screwed; only their accuser had access to the data that could prove their claim that the computer was flawed, and they had no view of the systemic pattern.

It’s extraordinary that the presumption of reliability has persisted this long, since “infallibility” is the claim the banks made when customers began reporting phantom withdrawals years ago, as Ross Anderson discussed in his 1993 paper Why Cryptosystems Fail (PDF). Thirty years later, no one should be trusting any computer system so blindly. Granted, in many cases, doing what the computer says is how you keep your job, but that shouldn’t apply to judges. Or CEOs.

At the Guardian, Alex Hern reports that legal and computer experts have been urging the government to update the law to remove the legal presumption of reliability, especially given the rise of machine learning systems whose probabilistic nature means they don’t behave predictably. We are not yet seeing calls for the imposition of software liability, though the Guardian reports there are suggestions that if the onoing public inquiry finds Fujitsu culpable for producing a faulty system the company should be required to repay the money it was paid for it. The point, experts tell me, is not that product liability would make these companies more willing to admit their mistakes, but that liability would make them and their suppliers more careful to ensure up front the quality of the systems they build and deploy.

The Post Office saga is a perfect example of Anderson’s moral hazard. The Post Office laid off its liability onto the subpostmasters but retained the right to conduct investigations and prosecutions. When the deck is so stacked, you have to expect a collapsed house of cards. And, as Chris Grey writes, the government’s refusal to give UK-resident EU citizens physical proof of status means it’s happening again.

Illustrations: Local post office.

Wendy M. Grossman is the 2013 winner of the Enigma Award. Her Web site has an extensive archive of her books, articles, and music, and an archive of earlier columns in this series. She is a contributing editor for the Plutopia News Network podcast. Follow on Mastodon.