While genetics is concerned with the observation of specific sections of DNA, genomics is about studying the entire genome of an organism, something that has only become practically possible in recent years. In forensic genetics, which is the technology behind the large national DNA databases being built in several countries including notably UK and USA (Wallace’s outstanding article lucidly exposes many significant issues), investigators compare scene-of-crime samples with database samples by checking if they match, but only on a very small number of specific locations in the genome (e.g. 13 locations according to the CODIS rules). In our paper we explore what might change when forensic analysis moves from genetics to genomics over the next few decades. This is a problem that can only be meaningfully approached from a multi-disciplinary viewpoint and indeed our combined backgrounds cover computer security, bioinformatics and law.

(Image from Wikimedia commons, in turn from NIST.)

Sequencing the first human genome (2003) cost 2.7 billion dollars and took 13 years. The US’s National Human Genome Research Institute has offered over 20 M$ worth of grants towards the goal of driving the cost of whole-genome sequencing down to a thousand dollars. This will enable personalized genomic medicine (e.g. predicting genetic risk of contracting specific diseases) but will also open up a number of ethical and privacy-related problems. Eugenetic abortions, genomic pre-screening as precondition for healthcare (or even just dating…), (mis)use of genomic data for purposes other than that for which it was collected and so forth. In various jurisdictions there exists legislation (such as the recent GINA in the US) that attempts to protect citizens from some of the possible abuses; but how strongly is it enforced? And is it enough? In the forensic context, is the DNA analysis procedure as infallible as we are led to believe? There are many subtleties associated with the interpretation of statistical results; when even professional statisticians disagree, how are the poor jurors expected to reach a fair verdict? Another subtle issue is kin privacy: if the scene-of-crime sample, compared with everyone in the database, partially matches Alice, this may be used as a hint to investigate all her relatives, who aren’t even in the database; indeed, some 1980s murders were recently solved in this way. “This raises compelling policy questions about the balance between collective security and individual privacy” [Bieber, Brenner, Lazer, 2006]. Should a democracy allow such a “driftnet” approach of suspecting and investigating all the innocents in order to catch the guilty?

This is a paper of questions rather than one of solutions. We believe an informed public debate is needed before the expected transition from genetics to genomics takes place. We want to stimulate discussion and therefore we invite you to read the paper, make up your mind and support what you believe are the right answers.

Errata: Version 1.1 of the paper, reference, and optimized code corrects an error in which the length of the configuration string was passed in as the size of the internal block (256 bits for Skein-256, 512 for Skein-512, and 1024 for Skein-1024), instead of a constant 256 bits for all three sizes. This error has no cryptographic significance, but affected the test vectors and the initialization values. The revised code also fixes a bug in the MAC mode key processing. This bug does not affect the NIST submission in any way.

NIST has received 64 submissions. (This article interviews one of the submitters, who is fifteen.) Of those, 28 are public and six have been broken. NIST is going through the submissions right now, making sure they are complete and proper. Their goal is to publish the accepted submissions by the end of the month, in advance of the Third Cryptographic Hash Workshop to be held in Belgium right after FSE in February. They expect to quickly make a first cut of algorithms -- hopefully to about a dozen -- and then give the community about a year of cryptanalysis before making a second cut in 2010.

Lastly, this is a really nice article on Skein.

These submissions make some accommodation to the Core 2 processor. They operate in "little-endian" mode (a quirk of the Intel-like processors that reads some bytes in reverse order). They also allow a large file to be broken into chunks to split the work across multiple processors.

However, virtually all of the contest submissions share the performance problem mentioned above. The logic they use won't optimally fit within the constraints of a Intel Core 2 processor. Most will perform as bad or worse than the existing SHA-1 algorithm.

One exception to this is Skein, created by several well-known cryptographers and noted pundit Bruce Schneier. It was designed specifically to exploit all three of the Core 2 execution units and to run at a full 64-bits. This gives it roughly four to 10 times the logic density of competing submissions.

This is what I meant by the Matrix quote above. They didn't bend the spoon; they bent the crypto algorithm. They moved the logic operations around in a way that wouldn't weaken the crypto, but would strengthen its speed on the Intel Core 2.

In their paper (PDF), the authors of Skein express surprise that a custom silicon ASIC implementation is not any faster than the software implementation. They shouldn't be surprised. Every time you can redefine a problem to run optimally in software, you will reach the same speeds you get with optimized ASIC hardware. The reason software has a reputation of being slow is because people don't redefine the original problem.

That's exactly what we were trying to do.

"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.

The TSA's useless photo ID rules

No-fly lists and photo IDs are supposed to help protect the flying public from terrorists. Except that they don't work.

By Bruce Schneier

August 28, 2008

The TSA is tightening its photo ID rules at airport security. Previously, people with expired IDs or who claimed to have lost their IDs were subjected to secondary screening. Then the Transportation Security Administration realized that meant someone on the government's no-fly list -- the list that is supposed to keep our planes safe from terrorists -- could just fly with no ID.

Now, people without ID must also answer personal questions from their credit history to ascertain their identity. The TSA will keep records of who those ID-less people are, too, in case they're trying to probe the system.

This may seem like an improvement, except that the photo ID requirement is a joke. Anyone on the no-fly list can easily fly whenever he wants. Even worse, the whole concept of matching passenger names against a list of bad guys has negligible security value.

How to fly, even if you are on the no-fly list: Buy a ticket in some innocent person's name. At home, before your flight, check in online and print out your boarding pass. Then, save that web page as a PDF and use Adobe Acrobat to change the name on the boarding pass to your own. Print it again. At the airport, use the fake boarding pass and your valid ID to get through security. At the gate, use the real boarding pass in the fake name to board your flight.

The problem is that it is unverified passenger names that get checked against the no-fly list. At security checkpoints, the TSA just matches IDs to whatever is printed on the boarding passes. The airline checks boarding passes against tickets when people board the plane. But because no one checks ticketed names against IDs, the security breaks down.

This vulnerability isn't new. It isn't even subtle. I first wrote about it in 2006. I asked Kip Hawley, who runs the TSA, about it in 2007. Today, any terrorist smart enough to Google "print your own boarding pass" can bypass the no-fly list.

This gaping security hole would bother me more if the very idea of a no-fly list weren't so ineffective. The system is based on the faulty notion that the feds have this master list of terrorists, and all we have to do is keep the people on the list off the planes.

That's just not true. The no-fly list -- a list of people so dangerous they are not allowed to fly yet so innocent we can't arrest them -- and the less dangerous "watch list" contain a combined 1 million names representing the identities and aliases of an estimated 400,000 people. There aren't that many terrorists out there; if there were, we would be feeling their effects.

Almost all of the people stopped by the no-fly list are false positives. It catches innocents such as Ted Kennedy, whose name is similar to someone's on the list, and Islam Yusuf (formerly Cat Stevens), who was on the list but no one knew why.

The no-fly list is a Kafkaesque nightmare for the thousands of innocent Americans who are harassed and detained every time they fly. Put on the list by unidentified government officials, they can't get off. They can't challenge the TSA about their status or prove their innocence. (The U.S. 9th Circuit Court of Appeals decided this month that no-fly passengers can sue the FBI, but that strategy hasn't been tried yet.)

But even if these lists were complete and accurate, they wouldn't work. Timothy McVeigh, the Unabomber, the D.C. snipers, the London subway bombers and most of the 9/11 terrorists weren't on any list before they committed their terrorist acts. And if a terrorist wants to know if he's on a list, the TSA has approved a convenient, $100 service that allows him to figure it out: the Clear program, which issues IDs to "trusted travelers" to speed them through security lines. Just apply for a Clear card; if you get one, you're not on the list.

In the end, the photo ID requirement is based on the myth that we can somehow correlate identity with intent. We can't. And instead of wasting money trying, we would be far safer as a nation if we invested in intelligence, investigation and emergency response -- security measures that aren't based on a guess about a terrorist target or tactic.

That's the TSA: Not doing the right things. Not even doing right the things it does.

“I have quite a few other concerns the with EPTS Member Agreement.   Basically, the agreement needs to be written with an eye toward a more flexible, open and inclusive process that puts the future of the EPTS square into the hands of the event processing community, not a small group of well intended folks who represent a small part of the overall event processing community and worldview.”

Opher’s reply was to just dismiss these comments, a bit surprising since I served the CEP/EP community on the EPTS steering committee; worked quite hard as a matter of fact, for a number of years.   Opher’s appreciation for the years of work is to just off-handly dismiss my comments.

Then in On faithfull representation and other comments and On Top Down and Bottom Up Opher does the same thing, he simply dismisses my comments, defensively, adding humor, sarcasm and fallacy.

I am sorry Opher is so defensive of his narrow society; however I will not yield, because I do not need to resort to sarcasm, fallacy and ad hominums; the facts obviously support my view.  For proof that Opher has a narrow view of event processing, go no further than look at the companies he hand-picked for his EPTS Steering Committee; most startups (or with startup products) in the event processing space, working on common messages to distinguish themselves in a market with much more mature players excluded - classic “not invented here,” isn’t it?

Opher’s claims the EPTS view on event processing is quite general, but the  majority of vendors on the EPTS Steering Committee members are selling similar platforms, a very narrow segment of the CEP/EP space.    Opher claims that he agrees that other domains (like sensor fusion) are significant to CEP/EP, but he simply dismisses my advice to create a true, general EPTS, inclusive of the prior-art and science of CEP/EP (before the marketing folks took over).  He insists on having the EPTS “reinvent the wheel” and develop their own vocabulary, as if event processing did not exist prior to one book on CEP.

Opher’s fun-to-read blog counterpoints to my concerns are evolving to a mixture of ad hominums and sarcasm, sometime wrapped in a defensive tone.   I think we can do better and we must be more inclusive of the other prior-art.  I say we, because I am also a founding member of the EPTS, althought I suspect Opher will banish my name from the membership for trying to diminish the “not invented here” attitude that seems to dominate the EPTS since inception.

The truth of the matter is that the EPTS has a relatively narrow view of event processing, evident by the makeup of the steering committee and the focus of their discussions.    It is not a technical society about event processing, per se; it is a marketing society with a narrowly focused membership that discounts most of the prior-art in the event processing space, it is really, an Event Processing Marketing Society (EPMS) for a narrow group of niche players.

The event processing domain is much, much larger.   The art-and-science of event processing is deep and mature, much more mature (and inclusive) than what we see in the EPTS. 

I think Opher (and the EPTS committee) should take these comments seriously and not discount them with sarcasm and subtle ad hominum replies.

It's basically what you would expect: Appoint a national cyber security advisor, invest in math and science education, establish standards for critical infrastructure, spend money on enforcement, establish national standards for securing personal data and data-breach disclosure, and work with industry and academia to develop a bunch of needed technologies.

I could comment on the plan, but with security the devil is always in the details -- and, of course, at this point there are few details. But since he brought up the topic -- McCain supposedly is "working on the issues" as well -- I have three pieces of policy advice for the next president, whoever he is. They're too detailed for campaign speeches or even position papers, but they're essential for improving information security in our society. Actually, they apply to national security in general. And they're things only government can do.

One, use your immense buying power to improve the security of commercial products and services. One property of technological products is that most of the cost is in the development of the product rather than the production. Think software: The first copy costs millions, but the second copy is free.

You have to secure your own government networks, military and civilian. You have to buy computers for all your government employees. Consolidate those contracts, and start putting explicit security requirements into the RFPs. You have the buying power to get your vendors to make serious security improvements in the products and services they sell to the government, and then we all benefit because they'll include those improvements in the same products and services they sell to the rest of us. We're all safer if information technology is more secure, even though the bad guys can use it, too.

Two, legislate results and not methodologies. There are a lot of areas in security where you need to pass laws, where the security externalities are such that the market fails to provide adequate security. For example, software companies who sell insecure products are exploiting an externality just as much as chemical plants that dump waste into the river. But a bad law is worse than no law. A law requiring companies to secure personal data is good; a law specifying what technologies they should use to do so is not. Mandating software liabilities for software failures is good, detailing how is not. Legislate for the results you want and implement the appropriate penalties; let the market figure out how -- that's what markets are good at.

Three, broadly invest in research. Basic research is risky; it doesn't always pay off. That's why companies have stopped funding it. Bell Labs is gone because nobody could afford it after the AT&T breakup, but the root cause was a desire for higher efficiency and short-term profitability -- not unreasonable in an unregulated business. Government research can be used to balance that by funding long-term research.

Spread those research dollars wide. Lately, most research money has been redirected through DARPA to near-term military-related projects; that's not good. Keep the earmark-happy Congress from dictating how the money is spent. Let the NSF, NIH and other funding agencies decide how to spend the money and don't try to micromanage. Give the national laboratories lots of freedom, too. Yes, some research will sound silly to a layman. But you can't predict what will be useful for what, and if funding is really peer-reviewed, the average results will be much better. Compared to corporate tax breaks and other subsidies, this is chump change.

If our research capability is to remain vibrant, we need more science and math students with decent elementary and high school preparation. The declining interest is partly from the perception that scientists don't get rich like lawyers and dentists and stockbrokers, but also because science isn't valued in a country full of creationists. One way the president can help is by trusting scientific advisers and not overruling them for political reasons.

Oh, and get rid of those post-9/11 restrictions on student visas that are causing (.pdf) so many top students to do their graduate work in Canada, Europe and Asia instead of in the United States. Those restrictions will hurt us immensely in the long run.

Those are the three big ones; the rest is in the details. And it's the details that matter. There are lots of serious issues that you're going to have to tackle: data privacy, data sharing, data mining, government eavesdropping, government databases, use of Social Security numbers as identifiers, and so on. It's not enough to get the broad policy goals right. You can have good intentions and enact a good law, and have the whole thing completely gutted by two sentences sneaked in during rulemaking by some lobbyist.

Security is both subtle and complex, and -- unfortunately -- it doesn't readily lend itself to normal legislative processes. You're used to finding consensus, but security by consensus rarely works. On the internet, security standards are much worse when they're developed by a consensus body, and much better when someone just does them. This doesn't always work -- a lot of crap security has come from companies that have "just done it" -- but nothing but mediocre standards come from consensus bodies. The point is that you won't get good security without pissing someone off: The information broker industry, the voting machine industry, the telcos. The normal legislative process makes it hard to get security right, which is why I don't have much optimism about what you can get done.

And if you're going to appoint a cyber security czar, you have to give him actual budgetary authority -- otherwise he won't be able to get anything done, either.

This essay originally appeared on Wired.com.

It's basically what you would expect: Appoint a national cyber security advisor, invest in math and science education, establish standards for critical infrastructure, spend money on enforcement, establish national standards for securing personal data and data-breach disclosure, and work with industry and academia to develop a bunch of needed technologies.

I could comment on the plan, but with security the devil is always in the details -- and, of course, at this point there are few details. But since he brought up the topic -- McCain supposedly is "working on the issues" as well -- I have three pieces of policy advice for the next president, whoever he is. They're too detailed for campaign speeches or even position papers, but they're essential for improving information security in our society. Actually, they apply to national security in general. And they're things only government can do.

One, use your immense buying power to improve the security of commercial products and services. One property of technological products is that most of the cost is in the development of the product rather than the production. Think software: The first copy costs millions, but the second copy is free.

You have to secure your own government networks, military and civilian. You have to buy computers for all your government employees. Consolidate those contracts, and start putting explicit security requirements into the RFPs. You have the buying power to get your vendors to make serious security improvements in the products and services they sell to the government, and then we all benefit because they'll include those improvements in the same products and services they sell to the rest of us. We're all safer if information technology is more secure, even though the bad guys can use it, too.

Two, legislate results and not methodologies. There are a lot of areas in security where you need to pass laws, where the security externalities are such that the market fails to provide adequate security. For example, software companies who sell insecure products are exploiting an externality just as much as chemical plants that dump waste into the river. But a bad law is worse than no law. A law requiring companies to secure personal data is good; a law specifying what technologies they should use to do so is not. Mandating software liabilities for software failures is good, detailing how is not. Legislate for the results you want and implement the appropriate penalties; let the market figure out how -- that's what markets are good at.

Three, broadly invest in research. Basic research is risky; it doesn't always pay off. That's why companies have stopped funding it. Bell Labs is gone because nobody could afford it after the AT&T breakup, but the root cause was a desire for higher efficiency and short-term profitability -- not unreasonable in an unregulated business. Government research can be used to balance that by funding long-term research.

Spread those research dollars wide. Lately, most research money has been redirected through DARPA to near-term military-related projects; that's not good. Keep the earmark-happy Congress from dictating (.pdf) how the money is spent. Let the NSF, NIH and other funding agencies decide how to spend the money and don't try to micromanage. Give the national laboratories lots of freedom, too. Yes, some research will sound silly to a layman. But you can't predict what will be useful for what, and if funding is really peer-reviewed, the average results will be much better. Compared to corporate tax breaks and other subsidies, this is chump change.

If our research capability is to remain vibrant, we need more science and math students with decent elementary and high school preparation. The declining interest is partly from the perception that scientists don't get rich like lawyers and dentists and stockbrokers, but also because science isn't valued in a country full of creationists. One way the president can help is by trusting scientific advisers and not overruling them for political reasons.

Oh, and get rid of those post-9/11 restrictions on student visas that are causing (.pdf) so many top students to do their graduate work in Canada, Europe and Asia instead of in the United States. Those restrictions will hurt us (.pdf) immensely in the long run.

Those are the three big ones; the rest is in the details. And it's the details that matter. There are lots of serious issues that you're going to have to tackle: data privacy, data sharing, data mining, government eavesdropping, government databases, use of Social Security numbers as identifiers, and so on. It's not enough to get the broad policy goals right. You can have good intentions and enact a good law, and have the whole thing completely gutted by two sentences sneaked in during rulemaking by some lobbyist.

Security is both subtle and complex, and -- unfortunately -- it doesn't readily lend itself to normal legislative processes. You're used to finding consensus, but security by consensus rarely works. On the internet, security standards are much worse when they're developed by a consensus body, and much better when someone just does them. This doesn't always work -- a lot of crap security has come from companies that have "just done it" -- but nothing but mediocre standards come from consensus bodies. The point is that you won't get good security without pissing someone off: The information broker industry, the voting machine industry, the telcos. The normal legislative process makes it hard to get security right, which is why I don't have much optimism about what you can get done.

And if you're going to appoint a cyber security czar, you have to give him actual budgetary authority -- otherwise he won't be able to get anything done, either.

---

Bruce Schneier is chief security technology officer of BT, and author of Beyond Fear: Thinking Sensibly About Security in an Uncertain World.