[Q] I have been collecting accounts of your meeting with David Petraeus in Baghdad. And you had [inaudible] after he had made a really strong pitch [inaudible] for maximum flexibility. A lot of politicians at that moment would have said [inaudible] but from what I hear, you pushed back.

[BO] I did. I remember the conversation, pretty precisely. He made the case for maximum flexibility and I said you know what if I were in your shoes I would be making the exact same argument because your job right now is to succeed in Iraq on as favorable terms as we can get. My job as a potential commander in chief is to view your counsel and your interests through the prism of our overall national security which includes what is happening in Afghanistan, which includes the costs to our image in the middle east, to the continued occupation, which includes the financial costs of our occupation, which includes what it is doing to our military. So I said look, I described in my mind at list an analogous situation where I am sure he has to deal with situations where the commanding officer in [inaudible] says I need more troops here now because I really think I can make progress doing x y and z. That commanding officer is doing his job in Ramadi, but Petraeus's job is to step back and see how does it impact Iraq as a whole. My argument was I have got to do the same thing here. And based on my strong assessment particularly having just come from Afghanistan were going to have to make a different decision. But the point is that hopefully I communicated to the press my complete respect and gratitude to him and Proder who was in the meeting for their outstanding work. Our differences don't necessarily derive from differences in sort of, or my differences with him don't derive from tactical objections to his approach. But rather from a strategic framework that is trying to take into account the challenges to our national security and the fact that we've got finite resources.

I have made this general point again and again -- about airline security, about terrorism, about a lot of things -- that the person in charge of the security system can't be the person who decides what resources to devote to that security system. The analogy I like to use is a company: the VP of marketing wants all the money for marketing, the VP of engineering wants all the money for engineering, and so on; and the CEO has to balance all of those needs and do what's right for the company. So of course the TSA wants to spend all this money on new airplane security systems; that's their job. Someone above the TSA has to balance the risks to airlines with the other risks our country faces and allocate budget accordingly. Security is a trade-off, and that trade-off has to be made by someone with responsibility over all aspects of that trade-off.

I don't think I've ever heard a politician make this point so explicitly.

Sounds like the beginning of a joke, right?  So these two guys walk into a bar…

“The” Bruce Schneier and Marcus Ranum have an article up on TechTarget/Information Security Magazine called, creatively enough, “Bruce Schenier, Marcus Ranum debate risk management“.

Unfortunately, to get to the article, you’ll have to either already be a subscriber to IT Security, a subscriber to TechTarget, or go through the 20 minute process of signing up by giving TechTarget all sorts of “market information” about how you’re really Brandon Walsh, CSO of “The Peach Pit” Industries in Beverly Hills, CA 90210 (phone 714-867-5309).

For those of you who are already a TechTarget person, the link is above.  For those who aren’t, or those who just don’t have the time, I’ll summarize.  The “debate” is kind of awkward because both authors seem come to the same conclusion:

Risk Management, it’s something our profession should do, something humans do naturally, it’s necessary in business, but gosh - we don’t have enough data.

I’m not a cryptographer.  I don’t *nearly* have the insight on privacy and politics that Bruce has.  I’m not deep in IP communications.  I haven’t got a proven track record of innovation in IP Security products like Marcus has.  But here’s the thing, I hope you’ll never hear me pretend that I have the skill set to speak authoritatively on those subjects.  Heck, I wouldn’t claim to be a “risk” expert because I have a some insight into my shortcomings and what is needed to tackle such a complex problem.  But such a tepid article on something that (at least I think) is so important kind of, well, confuses me.

Why is it such a boring article?  I’m not sure.  Maybe because they’re just two guys who would rather debate the merits of specific controls or control activities (after all, their penetration testing debate was a huge success), but there’s no new information in the “debate”.  It’s the same old “insurance companies know risk because they have scads of data and we don’t have that” complaint. You know what?  I’m tired of hearing that line, so let’s talk about it.

HOW DO YOU KNOW WE DON’T HAVE THE AMOUNT OF DATA WE NEED TO DO RISK MANAGEMENT WELL?

Not particularly picking on Marcus, but in the article he uses the common complaint, “We lack the data to do risk management well.”  This mantra is repeated to the point where I’m blase’ about it.  But for some reason, this sentence really jumped out at me this time for two reasons.  It made me ask:

1.)  How do you know we don’t have the proper amount of data?

2.)  Can we even define “well” (i.e. what “good” risk management is) yet?

I really don’t know that the industry, especially concerning IT risk, is mature enough to really conclude that we don’t know (in the case of the former), nor that we can define (latter), conclusively.

PLAYING THE CONTRARIAN

Just because I’m feeling kind of zany this morning, let me suggest something.  Maybe there actually is lots of evidence out there for us to use.  Maybe:

1.)  It’s just that we don’t have particularly good models that provide context.

2.)  When that evidence isn’t an obvious phenomena that lends itself to easy measurement, we throw our hands up in disgust and fall back on “lack of data”, “can’t quantify risk”, “best practices work just fine” or any other number of arguments, no, excuses we use to justify our inability to be precise about the past (more or less the present or future - apologies to Niels Bohr).

IT’S IN THE WAY THAT YOU USE IT

Now I actually am happy to acknowledge that we don’t have enough data to be precise.  You, me, even smart guys like Marcus and Bruce - we’ll never be able to “engineer” risk management.  But you know what?  Neither can Insurance companies.  Sure, there are plenty of places where they have enough data to apply a traditional frequentist approach to risk valuations.   But there are plenty of times Insurers actually insure and they don’t have centuries or decades of data.  There are plenty of times when they rely on the “estimates” of subject matter experts.  There are many times they have enough information to be accurate rather than precise, and that’s good enough for them.

For that matter, it’s worth noting that there are plenty of scientific disciplines that have to deal in imprecise prior information, or evidence that’s fraught with uncertainty (what Ranum calls “squishy”, and what I’ve heard real honest to goodness physicists call “noisy”).  Unfortunately, we’re going to be like them.  Until we can read minds and predict the future, there will always be uncertainty in our measurements and posterior conclusions.  The trick is in how you deal with it and express it.  And while I really don’t know how much time Marcus or Bruce have really spent in the deep end on the subject of risk and its management - I have seen people doing brilliant things around risk (though they just aren’t mainstream).  Whether the tools are Bayesian methods, Monte Carlo engines, reductionist models of complex problems, there are risk analysts trying to deal with the problem.  These analysts are applying scientific method(s) and developing reasonable approaches to a very complex problem.  There are people trying, and our body of knowledge is growing, growing well beyond “gee, I haven’t got an obvious solution so I’ll blame it on lack of data”.  Heck, I’ve seen readers of this blog suggest Douglas Hubbard’s book in other security forums!*

I’VE GOT YOUR DATA RIGHT HERE…

But we don’t have enough data?  I have to ask, how much more do we need?  I mean crikey, JPMC just visited our ISSA chapter claiming, like, a bajillion events an hour.  There’s not one, but several companies out there that will want to tell you about how they have deep “insight” into the attacker community.  The boundaries of IT Risk losses are pretty well established by events that happen to public companies.  We have pretty mature testing/assessment tools and methodologies now that help us test our ability to resist the force an attacker can apply to us.  So what part of the Threat Landscape, Asset (Controls) Landscape, or Loss Magnitude landscape is too incomplete (and what are you doing to find the information you need)?

SO WHY DO WE FAIL?

Which brings me to a final, somewhat depressing conclusion.  Maybe there’s data, and maybe we’re starting to see the means to use it.  But in the end I do have to agree with Marcus that the vast majority of the infosec world *is* doing a really, really bad job with regards to “risk” and “risk management”.  The majority of people I know consider GRC to be a cruel, expensive joke.  Risk Assessment Methodologies tend to be built on the faulty premise that if we create a repeatable process, our measurements and conclusions will magically become accurate and wise.  Risk models tend to be factors loosely measured by ordinal scales and then somehow “multiplied” together to create a relatively meaningless qualitative value.  The State of the Union here is not good.  But after reading such a superficial treatment of an important and complex subject, I am left wondering if Bruce and Marcus were the right people to write about risk management in a mainstream publication.  As Inspector Callahan says, “A man’s got to know his limitations.”

===============================

* Speaking of which, if you want to do one cost effective thing to address your uncertainty - go find Douglas Hubbard’s book. It’s even got a nice recommendation from Peter Tippett.  The book is called “How To Measure Anything” - the title sounds rather hyperbolic, but there are good techniques in it we can use to identify useful information and refine our ability to frame that qualitative information into quantitative values. The key is how Hubbard has you deal with your uncertainty.  For those of you who are more scientific minded and want to dig deep into the subject, I have on good authority that E.T. Jaynes “Probability Theory, The Logic of Science” is a rather under appreciated work.

"Risk management" is just a fancy term for the cost-benefit tradeoff associated with any security decision. It's what we do when we react to fear, or try to make ourselves feel secure. It's the fight-or-flight reflex that evolved in primitive fish and remains in all vertebrates. It's instinctual, intuitive and fundamental to life, and one of the brain's primary functions.

Some have hypothesized that humans have a "risk thermostat" that tries to maintain some optimal risk level. It explains why we drive our motorcycles faster when we wear a helmet, or are more likely to take up smoking during wartime. It's our natural risk management in action.

The problem is our brains are intuitively suited to the sorts of risk management decisions endemic to living in small family groups in the East African highlands in 100,000 BC, and not to living in the New York City of 2008. We make

systematic risk management mistakes -- miscalculating the probability of rare events, reacting more to stories than data, responding to the feeling of security rather than reality, and making decisions based on irrelevant context. And that risk cockpit of ours? It's not nearly as finely tuned as we might like it to be.

Like a rabbit that responds to an oncoming car with its default predator avoidance behavior -- dart left, dart right, dart left, and at the last moment jump -- instead of just getting out of the way, our Stone Age intuition doesn't serve us well in a modern technological society. So when we in the security industry use the term "risk management," we don't want you to do it by trusting your gut. We want you to do risk management consciously and intelligently, to analyze the tradeoff and make the best decision.

This means balancing the costs and benefits of any security decision -- buying and installing a new technology, implementing a new procedure or forgoing a common precaution. It means allocating a security budget to mitigate different risks by different amounts. It means buying insurance to transfer some risks to others. It's what businesses do, all the time, about everything. IT security has its own risk management decisions, based on the threats and the technologies.

There's never just one risk, of course, and bad risk management decisions often carry an underlying tradeoff. Terrorism policy in the U.S. is based more on politics than actual security risk, but the politicians who make these decisions are concerned about the risks of not being re-elected.

Many corporate security decisions are made to mitigate the risk of lawsuits rather than address the risk of any actual security breach. And individuals make risk management decisions that consider not only the risks to the corporation, but the risks to their departments' budgets, and to their careers.

You can't completely remove emotion from risk management decisions, but the best way to keep risk management focused on the data is to formalize the methodology. That's what companies that manage risk for a living -- insurance companies, financial trading firms and arbitrageurs -- try to do. They try to replace intuition with models, and hunches with mathematics.

The problem in the security world is we often lack the data to do risk management well. Technological risks are complicated and subtle. We don't know how well our network security will keep the bad guys out, and we don't know the cost to the company if we don't keep them out. And the risks change all the time, making the calculations even harder. But this doesn't mean we shouldn't try.

You can't avoid risk management; it's fundamental to business just as to life. The question is whether you're going to try to use data or whether you're going to just react based on emotions, hunches and anecdotes.

This essay appeared as the first half of a point-counterpoint with Marcus Ranum in Information Security magazine.

Conventional wisdom holds that terrorism is inherently political, and that people become terrorists for political reasons. This is the "strategic" model of terrorism, and it's basically an economic model. It posits that people resort to terrorism when they believe -- rightly or wrongly -- that terrorism is worth it; that is, when they believe the political gains of terrorism minus the political costs are greater than if they engaged in some other, more peaceful form of protest. It's assumed, for example, that people join Hamas to achieve a Palestinian state; that people join the PKK to attain a Kurdish national homeland; and that people join al-Qaida to, among other things, get the United States out of the Persian Gulf.

If you believe this model, the way to fight terrorism is to change that equation, and that's what most experts advocate. Governments tend to minimize the political gains of terrorism through a no-concessions policy; the international community tends to recommend reducing the political grievances of terrorists via appeasement, in hopes of getting them to renounce violence. Both advocate policies to provide effective nonviolent alternatives, like free elections.

Historically, none of these solutions has worked with any regularity. Max Abrahms, a predoctoral fellow at Stanford University's Center for International Security and Cooperation, has studied dozens of terrorist groups from all over the world. He argues that the model is wrong. In a paper published this year in International Security that -- sadly -- doesn't have the title "Seven Habits of Highly Ineffective Terrorists," he discusses, well, seven habits of highly ineffective terrorists. These seven tendencies are seen in terrorist organizations all over the world, and they directly contradict the theory that terrorists are political maximizers:

Terrorists, he writes, (1) attack civilians, a policy that has a lousy track record of convincing those civilians to give the terrorists what they want; (2) treat terrorism as a first resort, not a last resort, failing to embrace nonviolent alternatives like elections; (3) don't compromise with their target country, even when those compromises are in their best interest politically; (4) have protean political platforms, which regularly, and sometimes radically, change; (5) often engage in anonymous attacks, which precludes the target countries making political concessions to them; (6) regularly attack other terrorist groups with the same political platform; and (7) resist disbanding, even when they consistently fail to achieve their political objectives or when their stated political objectives have been achieved.

Abrahms has an alternative model to explain all this: People turn to terrorism for social solidarity. He theorizes that people join terrorist organizations worldwide in order to be part of a community, much like the reason inner-city youths join gangs in the United States.

The evidence supports this. Individual terrorists often have no prior involvement with a group's political agenda, and often join multiple terrorist groups with incompatible platforms. Individuals who join terrorist groups are frequently not oppressed in any way, and often can't describe the political goals of their organizations. People who join terrorist groups most often have friends or relatives who are members of the group, and the great majority of terrorist are socially isolated: unmarried young men or widowed women who weren't working prior to joining. These things are true for members of terrorist groups as diverse as the IRA and al-Qaida.

For example, several of the 9/11 hijackers planned to fight in Chechnya, but they didn't have the right paperwork so they attacked America instead. The mujahedeen had no idea whom they would attack after the Soviets withdrew from Afghanistan, so they sat around until they came up with a new enemy: America. Pakistani terrorists regularly defect to another terrorist group with a totally different political platform. Many new al-Qaida members say, unconvincingly, that they decided to become a jihadist after reading an extreme, anti-American blog, or after converting to Islam, sometimes just a few weeks before. These people know little about politics or Islam, and they frankly don't even seem to care much about learning more. The blogs they turn to don't have a lot of substance in these areas, even though more informative blogs do exist.

All of this explains the seven habits. It's not that they're ineffective; it's that they have a different goal. They might not be effective politically, but they are effective socially: They all help preserve the group's existence and cohesion.

This kind of analysis isn't just theoretical; it has practical implications for counterterrorism. Not only can we now better understand who is likely to become a terrorist, we can engage in strategies specifically designed to weaken the social bonds within terrorist organizations. Driving a wedge between group members -- commuting prison sentences in exchange for actionable intelligence, planting more double agents within terrorist groups -- will go a long way to weakening the social bonds within those groups.

We also need to pay more attention to the socially marginalized than to the politically downtrodden, like unassimilated communities in Western countries. We need to support vibrant, benign communities and organizations as alternative ways for potential terrorists to get the social cohesion they need. And finally, we need to minimize collateral damage in our counterterrorism operations, as well as clamping down on bigotry and hate crimes, which just creates more dislocation and social isolation, and the inevitable calls for revenge.

This essay previously appeared on Wired.com.

Conventional wisdom holds that terrorism is inherently political, and that people become terrorists for political reasons. This is the "strategic" model of terrorism, and it's basically an economic model. It posits that people resort to terrorism when they believe -- rightly or wrongly -- that terrorism is worth it; that is, when they believe the political gains of terrorism minus the political costs are greater than if they engaged in some other, more peaceful form of protest. It's assumed, for example, that people join Hamas to achieve a Palestinian state; that people join the PKK to attain a Kurdish national homeland; and that people join al-Qaida to, among other things, get the United States out of the Persian Gulf.

If you believe this model, the way to fight terrorism is to change that equation, and that's what most experts advocate. Governments tend to minimize the political gains of terrorism through a no-concessions policy; the international community tends to recommend reducing the political grievances of terrorists via appeasement, in hopes of getting them to renounce violence. Both advocate policies to provide effective nonviolent alternatives, like free elections.

Historically, none of these solutions has worked with any regularity. Max Abrahms, a predoctoral fellow at Stanford University's Center for International Security and Cooperation, has studied dozens of terrorist groups from all over the world. He argues that the model is wrong. In a paper (.pdf) published this year in International Security that -- sadly -- doesn't have the title "Seven Habits of Highly Ineffective Terrorists," he discusses, well, seven habits of highly ineffective terrorists. These seven tendencies are seen in terrorist organizations all over the world, and they directly contradict the theory that terrorists are political maximizers:

Terrorists, he writes, (1) attack civilians, a policy that has a lousy track record of convincing those civilians to give the terrorists what they want; (2) treat terrorism as a first resort, not a last resort, failing to embrace nonviolent alternatives like elections; (3) don't compromise with their target country, even when those compromises are in their best interest politically; (4) have protean political platforms, which regularly, and sometimes radically, change; (5) often engage in anonymous attacks, which precludes the target countries making political concessions to them; (6) regularly attack other terrorist groups with the same political platform; and (7) resist disbanding, even when they consistently fail to achieve their political objectives or when their stated political objectives have been achieved.

Abrahms has an alternative model to explain all this: People turn to terrorism for social solidarity. He theorizes that people join terrorist organizations worldwide in order to be part of a community, much like the reason inner-city youths join gangs in the United States.

The evidence supports this. Individual terrorists often have no prior involvement with a group's political agenda, and often join multiple terrorist groups with incompatible platforms. Individuals who join terrorist groups are frequently not oppressed in any way, and often can't describe the political goals of their organizations. People who join terrorist groups most often have friends or relatives who are members of the group, and the great majority of terrorist are socially isolated: unmarried young men or widowed women who weren't working prior to joining. These things are true for members of terrorist groups as diverse as the IRA and al-Qaida.

For example, several of the 9/11 hijackers planned to fight in Chechnya, but they didn't have the right paperwork so they attacked America instead. The mujahedeen had no idea whom they would attack after the Soviets withdrew from Afghanistan, so they sat around until they came up with a new enemy: America. Pakistani terrorists regularly defect to another terrorist group with a totally different political platform. Many new al-Qaida members say, unconvincingly, that they decided to become a jihadist after reading an extreme, anti-American blog, or after converting to Islam, sometimes just a few weeks before. These people know little about politics or Islam, and they frankly don't even seem to care much about learning more. The blogs they turn to don't have a lot of substance in these areas, even though more informative blogs do exist.

All of this explains the seven habits. It's not that they're ineffective; it's that they have a different goal. They might not be effective politically, but they are effective socially: They all help preserve the group's existence and cohesion.

This kind of analysis isn't just theoretical; it has practical implications for counterterrorism. Not only can we now better understand who is likely to become a terrorist, we can engage in strategies specifically designed to weaken the social bonds within terrorist organizations. Driving a wedge between group members -- commuting prison sentences in exchange for actionable intelligence, planting more double agents within terrorist groups -- will go a long way to weakening the social bonds within those groups.

We also need to pay more attention to the socially marginalized than to the politically downtrodden, like unassimilated communities in Western countries. We need to support vibrant, benign communities and organizations as alternative ways for potential terrorists to get the social cohesion they need. And finally, we need to minimize collateral damage in our counterterrorism operations, as well as clamping down on bigotry and hate crimes, which just creates more dislocation and social isolation, and the inevitable calls for revenge.

---

Bruce Schneier is Chief Security Technology Officer of BT, and author of Beyond Fear: Thinking Sensibly About Security in an Uncertain World.

However, this approach risks alienating folks who take their politics serious or have other concerns.   For that reason,  I am going to go another, less political, direction on The CEP Blog.  I will not blog on the US presidential election here.

In my next series of  blog posts I will discuss how asymmetric event processing and asymmetric situational awareness was the genesis for complex event processing.

John McCain is, objectively, a bad decision maker, desperate and reckless.   He knows that his party is in trouble and that the Democrats have the advantage; so what does he do?

First, he picks a very conservative, inexperienced female governor from Alaska who, until recently, did not even have a US passport, as his running mate.  This was an obvious act of desperation, thinking that he could pull the Hillary votes in the election.  A heartbeat from the US Presidency at a time when there are two ongoing wars and our country on the verge of economic collapse and he gambles with a “Hail Mary” touchdown pass?  This is not the man we need as President.

Then, not even a member of the Banking committee in the Senate, and self-described “not knowledgeable on economic issues”, John McCain tries another “Hail Mary” pass by rushing off to DC to “save the world” and tries to demand Obama suspend his campaign and the debates?    The US is on the brink of economic collapse and McCain puts politics and election desperation above the future of the country?   This is not the man we need as President.

During the same period, Barack Obama has proven to be cool, intelligent, and a good decision maker.   This should be obvious to anyone with the mind to actually think what is good for the country and not about politics.

John McCain is desperate and reckless.   We don’t need desperate and reckless people leading this country.