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.

Economists have long understood the corollary concept of Coase's ceiling, a point above which organizations collapse under their own weight -- where hiring someone, however competent, means more work for everyone else than the new hire contributes. Software projects often bump their heads against Coase's ceiling: recall Frederick P. Brooks Jr.'s seminal study, The Mythical Man-Month (Addison-Wesley, 1975), which showed how adding another person onto a project can slow progress and increase errors.

What's new is something consultant and social technologist Clay Shirky calls "Coase's Floor," below which we find projects and activities that aren't worth their organizational costs -- things so esoteric, so frivolous, so nonsensical, or just so thoroughly unimportant that no organization, large or small, would ever bother with them. Things that you shake your head at when you see them and think, "That's ridiculous."

Sounds a lot like the Internet, doesn't it? And that's precisely Shirky's point. His new book, Here Comes Everybody: The Power of Organizing Without Organizations, explores a world where organizational costs are close to zero and where ad hoc, loosely connected groups of unpaid amateurs can create an encyclopedia larger than the Britannica and a computer operating system to challenge Microsoft's.

Shirky teaches at New York University's Interactive Telecommunications Program, but this is no academic book. Sacrificing rigor for readability, Here Comes Everybody is an entertaining as well as informative romp through some of the Internet's signal moments -- the Howard Dean phenomenon, Belarusian protests organized on LiveJournal, the lost cellphone of a woman named Ivanna, Meetup.com, flash mobs, Twitter, and more -- which Shirky uses to illustrate his points.

The book is filled with bits of insight and common sense, explaining why young people take better advantage of social tools, how the Internet affects social change, and how most Internet discourse falls somewhere between dinnertime conversation and publishing.

Shirky notes that "most user-generated content isn't 'content' at all, in the sense of being created for general consumption, any more than a phone call between you and a sibling is 'family-generated content.' Most of what gets created on any given day is just the ordinary stuff of life -- gossip, little updates, thinking out loud -- but now it's done in the same medium as professionally produced material. Unlike professionally produced material, however, Internet content can be organized after the fact."

No one coordinates Flickr's 6 million to 8 million users. Yet Flickr had the first photos from the 2005 London Transport bombings, beating the traditional news media. Why? People with cellphone cameras uploaded their photos to Flickr. They coordinated themselves using tools that Flickr provides. This is the sort of impromptu organization the Internet is ideally suited for. Shirky explains how these moments are harbingers of a future that can self-organize without formal hierarchies.

These nonorganizations allow for contributions from a wider group of people. A newspaper has to pay someone to take photos; it can't be bothered to hire someone to stand around London underground stations waiting for a major event. Similarly, Microsoft has to pay a programmer full time, and Encyclopedia Britannica has to pay someone to write articles. But Flickr can make use of a person with just one photo to contribute, Linux can harness the work of a programmer with little time, and Wikipedia benefits if someone corrects just a single typo. These aggregations of millions of actions that were previously below the Coasean floor have enormous potential.

But a flash mob is still a mob. In a world where the Coasean floor is at ground level, all sorts of organizations appear, including ones you might not like: violent political organizations, hate groups, Holocaust deniers, and so on. (Shirky's discussion of teen anorexia support groups makes for very disturbing reading.) This has considerable implications for security, both online and off.

We never realized how much our security could be attributed to distance and inconvenience -- how difficult it is to recruit, organize, coordinate, and communicate without formal organizations. That inadvertent measure of security is now gone. Bad guys, from hacker groups to terrorist groups, will use the same ad hoc organizational technologies that the rest of us do. And while there has been some success in closing down individual Web pages, discussion groups, and blogs, these are just stopgap measures.

In the end, a virtual community is still a community, and it needs to be treated as such. And just as the best way to keep a neighborhood safe is for a policeman to walk around it, the best way to keep a virtual community safe is to have a virtual police presence.

Crime isn't the only danger; there is also isolation. If people can segregate themselves in ever-increasingly specialized groups, then they're less likely to be exposed to alternative ideas. We see a mild form of this in the current political trend of rival political parties having their own news sources, their own narratives, and their own facts. Increased radicalization is another danger lurking below the Coasean floor.

There's no going back, though. We've all figured out that the Internet makes freedom of speech a much harder right to take away. As Shirky demonstrates, Web 2.0 is having the same effect on freedom of assembly. The consequences of this won't be fully seen for years.

Here Comes Everybody covers some of the same ground as Yochai Benkler's Wealth of Networks. But when I had to explain to one of my corporate attorneys how the Internet has changed the nature of public discourse, Shirky's book is the one I recommended.

This essay previously appeared in IEEE Spectrum.

• The Cathedral and the Bazaar by Eric S. Raymond
• The Wisdom of Crowds by James Surowiecki
• We Are Smarter Than Me by Barry Libert, Jon Spector, Don Tapscott
• The World Is Flat by Thomas L. Friedman
• The Innovator's Dilemma by Clayton M. Christensen
• The Long Tail by Chris Anderson
• The Speed of Trust by Stephen M. R. Covey
• What Got You Here Won't Get You There by Marshall Goldsmith
• Outsourced (the movie)

Also remember that I mildly panned Digital Economy by Harbhajan Kehal and Varinder P. Singh; my assertion was that the next 10 years will bring about a social economy instead, one that includes the digital natives you’ll all be hiring and selling to now or very soon. They’re the ones who are building it, so you might as well adapt.

There is another reason why the article got my attention; my manager, Steve Lipner, is one of the few people to have designed and built a TCSEC A1 assured system and lived to tell the tale. None were sold, but they built one!

The NSA-directed project, the Tokeneer ID Station (TIS), involved building a low-defect system that conforms "to the Common Criteria requirements for Evaluation Assurance Level 5 (EAL5)" in a "cost effective manner." I'm all for this, because building high-assurance solutions is not cheap.

There's a paper with more technical detail about the project that is worth a read.

In my opinion, the project is only a science project, an experiment, for the following reasons:

• It's tiny. Weighing in at a little under 10 KLOC.
• It's only a very small portion of a much larger solution which has not been developed using the same rigor. This bit of context makes the solution as a whole moot. Call me cynical, but my question is "can the entire solution be built with same rigor in a ‘cost effective manner'?" Perhaps it can, but that is not what is presented.
• It sits on top of many operating systems (Windows, Mac OS X and Linux) that are not EAL5 certified. So it would be a little like having an EAL5 certified CharMap application running on EAL4 Windows Vista.
• It's written in a subset of Ada called SPARK, and SPARK skills are not common in the marketplace. Interestingly, SPARK makes use of annotations to help drive the static analysis process. While not a total analog, we also recommend Microsoft development teams use annotations (SAL) to help drive the required static analysis process.
• The application has a large number of dependencies that are not part of the project:

In the SDL we call these files ‘giblets' because they are components needed for your application to operate, but they do not belong to your team. Some of the files look old and highly vulnerable, such as libpng-3.dll from 2001! OSVDB lists 23 vulnerabilities since 2002 in libpng!

In summary, the TIS project is very interesting to a small number of important but specialized customers, such as the NSA, for whom this kind of research is critical. I too found it interesting, but the process is far from a set of "secrets to writing secure code" and the tools are certainly not within reach of day-to-day applications and not applicable to developing complete solutions.

The problem is that (Chris’ analysis is) completely impractical. I’ll take a recent, and fairly typical situation as an example. I was taking issue with the manner in which remote access was being provisioned for a third party vendor to connect to a system hosted by one of our European business units. To cut a long story short, it was not only a breach of policy but highly insecure. I wanted the access to be disconnected, the business unit director wanted my risk assessment. And he didn’t want to wait for it.

To quote Chris Hayes, spending time on working out the expected effectiveness of controls, over a given timeframe, as measured against a baseline level of force was not going to pacify an angry Italian fearful that my decision was going to cost him money. He wanted my explanation of the risk and more importantly, what I was going to offer as a solution to keep his business functioning

As Chris is someone who actually does this for a living in a large company, and this is typical of his actual day job, I really find Stuart’s “impractical” comment to be, um, misinformed.

Also, I think Stuart mistakes the purpose of a risk analysis.  The purpose of the risk analysis is not to force someone to be “secure”, but to provide knowledge for decision making.  Using it as a “hammer” to knock in the nail of your personal risk tolerance impairs efficiency and in the long run retards “security” as it creates political resentment.  Seriously, who cares if something might violate policy or not in a pre-implementation discussion?  Policies are not stone tablets handed down from on high, they are state-in-time codification of the data owners risk tolerance.  This risk tolerance changes sometimes, and that’s OK.

To that extent, I appreciate (and I’m sure Chris does, as well) that risk analysis does not create rationality in the data owner.  Someone who sees you as a speedbump on the route to progress they may not be ready to appreciate your point of view even if it is stated in the most rational manner possible.   But it’s worth noting (and Stuart’s example is indicative of this point) that risk analysis does not create rationality in the analyst, either.  If one is being so “security minded” as to ignore the risk tolerance of the business owner - we’re bound to get a reaction similar to that Stuart encountered.  In fact, a practical risk analysis like Chris performed on his blog, done in 30 minutes, should identify the critical point of disagreement between Stuart and the data owner (again, Stuart doesn’t own the data, the agitated Italian does).

But let’s stay rational and open to alternatives to what Chris offers.  Stuart states his approach to risk analysis as:

When I need to document a risk assessment I use a very simple form: list the threats, state the level of vulnerability, list the associated operational costs and potential revenue hits. High, medium, or low risk? Describe the controls and options. Write up who needs to do what, and how much of their time it’s going to take. Job done.

At first glance, I don’t think what Chris has done is any less efficient, and it provides greater insight (using Frequency and Capability instead of just ‘listing the threats’).  But what is key here is that Chris’ approach is consistent and defensible.  Less generous risk geeks and CSO’s I know would have no little difficulty with Stuart’s approach.  But to particularly answer Stuart’s main objection (impracticality) I would offer that with practice, Chris’ work is probably quicker and easier than Stuart’s described process as it eliminates much of the ambiguity an immature risk analysis creates - reducing the need for further discussion and arguments with data owners (regardless of disposition or nationality).

Finally the irony of Stuart’s post is that the reason he had this confrontation may in fact be because he was incapable of bringing a salient model for risk to the table, one that identified the factors that create risk and developed a defensible belief statement concerning risk.   We’ll never know if one would have helped him in this isolated instance, but I can tell you that in organizations like Chris’, good risk models and strong risk anlayses create operational efficiencies, reduce costs, and streamlines intra-departmental communications.