I came back from my spring break to find that I could no longer check the email at my place of employ. First I had to add a “device” through which I would initially identify myself: then the email would load. Security, of course: an “upgrade” to respond to new “risks”.
There’s simply no end to this. The new security protocol will last until aspiring hackers devise a way to circumvent it easily… which may take a few months. Then I’ll have to add another device, or else there will be some more arcane and complicated procedure. Then the hackers will render the latest measure obsolete… and on we go. And on and on.
One annoying thought that always nags me in these situations is how many techies we’re paying royally to make our lives more complex and miserable. The cost of doing something as simple as checking your mail has become inflated by a factor of ten or twenty since the days when we just wrote a note and slipped it in a box. What am I saying–that didn’t cost anything but a piece of paper! Try multiplying the cost by several thousand!
And, without fail, the next other thought is precisely, “What was so bad about paper?” You had one transmission confined to one space. To “hack” it, someone would have to break into the mail room. Or you could leave a phone message on an answering machine, which was almost as cheap, a little easier to check, and immensely more secure (inasmuch as one trespasser into the mail room could have access to everyone’s cubby hole, but the same desperado would have to break into X number of offices or houses to raid each answering machine).
I’ve actually been requested several times during the past year to submit in print some kind of report that I had already–under orders–submitted online. The reason? A superior found tracking down the material online to be far too time-consuming. Especially with all the new security measures (and more coming every month), trying to gain access to information not only becomes more intricate but also incurs greater risk of freeze-up or shut-down when the software updates don’t quite mesh with previous gears.
How much of what we do really needs to be secure, anyway? Sensitive info about bank accounts or identification numbers or health problems or (in my case) course grades would be better off sitting in a file cabinet. Why does an online class need to be resistant to Chinese or Russian hackers, though? A lot of such stuff finds its way to YouTube (if it’s good enough to draw a general audience). Could it be that the people who “secure” us for their living have a vested interest in exposing us ever further to embarrassing or disastrous invasions of privacy? As long as we feel “at risk”, they will be assured a lucrative gig.
I wouldn’t be posting this piece without the Internet. I’m not waging a war against the Web. But why do we have to use every technology for everything to which it might possibly be applied, just because we can? Why don’t we select appropriate uses and decline others that involve us in never-ending headaches and nervous sweats?