Call On Your Cell Phone ...

I heard it on the radio. Not the grape vine. It was part of some kind of advertisement or announcement. I don't remember which, but that's not important. What mattered was that for participation in the particular program all you had to do was call or register on your cell phone.

And only a few days before that I received an announcement from the Social Security Administration that they were implementing a new program that was designed to increase security by posting passwords to your cell phone. (See "Simplify, Simplify, Simplify," – August 1, 2016.)   The password would change with each use, so it would make hacking more difficult. All you had to do was request a password on your computer when you wanted to access your mySocialSecurity account, and they would send a one-use password to access the site. Brilliant.

Unfortunately there are problems. I don't have a cell phone. They've developed the program with the assumption that everyone has one, and it just ain't so. (They also require texting ability which limits the audience still further.) Even a computer is considerably less than universal. I suspect there are other ways than cell phones with texting to get the information provided, since there is a question in their FAQ section dealing with this particular issue. However when that question is “clicked” all that is provided is information about how to contact them. No answer to the question. I didn't pursue the issue because I didn't really care. I don't have a “mySocialSecurity” account. Actually I didn't even know those accounts existed – though the program probably provides lots of taxpayer-supported jobs for voters – and I've done very well without participation.

That's not the point, though. What is really involved is the assumption that everyone has a cell phone, and knows how to text. It's called “progress,” and it's clear that it's the way we're headed. There was a time when the assumption that we had a refrigerator, or a telephone, or even electricity, was unreasonable, but they are now, along with television and such things, the basic implements of our culture, and soon enough the texting telephone, and devices we haven't even thought of, will be ubiquitous as well.

But we're not there yet. Every other day we hear about a computer system that's been hacked or fails for some other reason. A few days ago I heard on a travel program that it was best to make a hard copy of your airline boarding pass before going to the airport and not relying on what's on your cell phone. That would allow you to check in even if there's a computer failure.

And, as if on cue, Delta's computers were down this morning – they blamed it on an electrical problem – and they were forced to delay or cancel numerous flights. I don't know if the paper boarding passes were of any value, but the situation demonstrated the risks of relying on computers and cell phones. And it's hardly the first time this has happened. It seems that every couple of weeks there is a problem with the computer system of one airline or another, or the hacking of some business's computer system, along with credit card and Social Security numbers. Plenty of room for identity theft, the crime most in vogue right now. As is the theft and ransoming of data on a wide variety of devices.

Even worse is the hacking of the computers of Government bureaus and public officials. Much of it is done as part of spying programs – both political and industrial – and the identification of agents has cost the lives of many on all sides, along with other necessary state secrets. (We pride ourselves on “transparency,” but there is probably no greater enemy of international diplomacy than that. Nowadays WikiLeaks is providing the transparency.) Of less human consequence is the loss of industrial secrets and intellectual property, though these are also significant casualties in the modern competition between good and bad.

I don't mean to suggest that modern technology is bad. While I may be a troglodyte, I recognize what is happening. And I guess it's a good thing. (I can't stop it anyway, so why waste my time? Que sera, sera.) Just as telephones became standard, so will computers and cell phones. But perhaps we're moving too fast. We're responding to marketing rather than common sense. Perhaps we're so determined to have the latest and the best that we're less concerned about the safest. And we're suffering for it. It's time to stop, take a deep breath, and count to seven (we rush even that).

It's one thing to perfect our spying in order to deal with other countries and to protect our own security and systems, but it's quite another to put our own data and civilization at risk. However important progress is, we're better off if we devote our best brains to protecting ourselves before we let the glamour of modern toys make us vulnerable to those who would take advantage of us.

Can I borrow your cell phone to report the problem?

Simplify, Simplify, Simplify

My wife is mad. Angry, if you're not sure what I mean. Infuriated. So are some of her friends. As is often the case, the government is at fault – in this case the Social Security Administration.

By way of background, she works in a program to provide information to recipients, and prospective recipients, of Medicare – primarily the elderly. The majority are beyond retirement age and are collecting Social Security – though it is often inadequate to meet modest needs. Many of them are uncertain about the benefits available to them through Medicare – what they are and how to get them. And, for the most part, they're unsophisticated when it comes not only to the ins and outs of government regulations, but the tools necessary to learn about them are only available from the government that has formulated them and administers them. Recipients have barely enough income to get by, let alone to purchase all the innovations of modern technology. So many of them don't have the computers necessary to learn about the existing programs, and they have to rely on whatever information is sent them by “snail mail” (they know it as “mail”). And it's often the case that they don't read the mail – which is just as well since most of its contents are impenetrable to all but those trained in the law.

That's the background. The case at issue is a new program described in an e-mail message which we received recently – as, we assume, did most of the recipients of Social Security and Medicare who have computers. And of them, only some of those would understand its significance. For example, when I accessed the FAQ section of the site dealing with the new program I learned

Disclaimer

The Social Security Administration (SSA) website contains links to websites not affiliated with the United States government. These may include State and Local governmental agencies, international agencies, and private entities.

SSA cannot attest to the accuracy of information provided by such websites. If we provide a link to such a website, this does not constitute an endorsement by SSA or any of its employees of the information or products presented on the non-SSA website.

Also, such websites are not within our control and may not follow the same privacy, security or accessibility policies. Once you visit such a website, you are subject to the policies of that site.

I think that what it is saying is that the government has no responsibility for what it puts on line. Of course I could be wrong.

In any event, I should mention the program in question. Here's the crux

You can create a my Social Security account if you’re age 18 or older, have a Social Security number, a valid email, a U.S. mailing address, and a cell phone that can receive text messages. You’ll need to provide some personal information to confirm your identity; you’ll be asked to choose a username and password; and then provide your cell phone number. You’ll then receive a security code via text that you will be required to enter when you first create an account. We’ll send your cell phone a new security code each time you log in with your username and password. The security code is part of our enhanced security feature to protect your personal information. Keep in mind that your cell phone provider's text message and data rates may apply.

That's straightforward, isn't it? But perhaps you still use (forgive me) a land line (or you can't text – don't have the apparatus or lack the knowledge of how to do it, since I suspect that the majority of Social Security and Medicare recipients either don't text of have difficulty doing so)

If you do not have a cell phone, you will not be able to access your personal my Social Security account. To access your personal my Social Security account, you need a cell phone that can receive text messages. Each time you sign in, we send a text to your cell phone that contains a security code you will need to enter to access your account. Keep in mind that your cell phone provider's text message and data rates may apply. Please visit our website at socialsecurity.gov/agency/contact to learn other ways to contact us.

(This is only a small part of what's written, but I'd put you to sleep if I included all of it.) So there's no problem. You can always contact their web site and find out how to contact them. (That's what you learn when you click on their contact URL – not the answer to your question.) That's all clear, isn't it? And you can be sure you're getting the best service. After all, even if you can't understand it or use it, you're paying for it. And they're not shy about telling you so.

This website is produced and published at U.S. taxpayer expense.

What it boils down to is that the new program is being thrust on the group least likely to be able to understand or take advantage of it by regulators whose employment depends on creating such programs. And we're paying for it. That's what makes America great.

But I'm not angry about it. Long ago I stopped expecting intelligent actions by the government.

Plausible Deniability

 

My time of day is the dark time
A couple of deals before dawn
When the street belongs to the cop
And the janitor with the mop
And the grocery clerks are all goneⁱ

That's my time, too. It varies though, since dawn comes up at different times at different times of the year. And in my neighborhood the streets are mostly empty. No cops and no janitors. There's an occasional car which is usually driven by someone delivering newspapers to the houses nearby, or other things to the one store open at that ridiculous hour for the convenience of people on their way to work. They value a hot cup of joe to keep their eyes open as they drive.

I value the solitude; the quiet, and the time to think, provided by a walk through the empty streets, and the cool, or even cold, air of the morning. It's peaceful and it's private. I am unobserved and I am unsupervised.

Sky Masterson wanted to share his “time” with Miss Sarah Brown, and no one else. And that was possible at the time the story was written because it was before the time of video surveillance at every corner and at every store. But there is no privacy now in many areas, notwithstanding the Supreme Court's decision that it is a Constitutional right. Fortunately there are no camerasⁱⁱ along my early morning route so I can relax.

Niels Bohr and Werner Heisenberg also wanted privacy. In their case it was from the listening ears of Nazi intelligence officers. So they went for a hike in the Danish countryside. What they discussed wasn't recorded and they described their conversation differently, but there is no actual record documenting what they said. They wanted privacy and secrecy and they got both. As did “Andrey Botvinnik” and “John Honeyman,” who took walks in the woods near Geneva. Their conversations, in Lee Blessing's play,ⁱⁱⁱ conversations believed to be based on those of Soviet and American diplomats, involved nuclear policy and were unofficial discussions between two men who came to be friends. The conversations were off the record and the men could change their minds without international repercussions. Whatever they said could be denied. Plausible deniability is a valued and proper tool in government – even if it may seem to be unethical. But if something like WikiLeaks comes along it is hard to deny what was not intended for publication in the first place. Privacy in conversation, and the discipline not to reduce all our thoughts to the permanent record, are our best protections against nosiness and the urge to “let it all hang out.” There's no hiding from a working paper which may later be changed because it is recognized to be ill-considered, but which, in the meanwhile, found its way into the hands of someone more interested in “transparency” than laudable motives and results.

Those days, sadly, are over – the days of privacy and secrecy. You have to be suspicious of those you're with – even those you consider friends. With the miniaturization of transmitters, unsuspected everyday objects, like buttons or pens, can betray your words to others. And there are long-distance listening devices as well. The woods are no longer safe, even if you're talking to yourself.

But it does not require hidden cameras or transmitters. Surveillance cameras are everywhere and we have stopped noticing them. But more frightening to me is the fact that almost everyone carries around some sort of recording device. It may be a video camera or even a camera telephone. In some ways, I suppose, that's a good thing. But for the most part I think it intrusive. In fact, the portable telephone itself is not for me. I don't need to “touch” someone at all times. And I don't want to be called when I'm looking for privacy. Nor do I want to hear the conversations of others, which often shatter the peace I seek.^iv I don't need to hear someone screaming into the telephone what ought to be private information. I don't want to know. And I don't need to have my life placed at risk by another driver who may be more interested in gossip than in the road. There may be laws against such behavior, but they're violated so frequently that they might as well not exist. We certainly don't have the means to enforce them.^v

The unseen threats to our privacy are even worse. They're worse, in large part, because even if we know they're there, we don't think about them or recognize what they can do. We may even view them favorably if we are aware of their presence. Having a GPS chip which can connect to a distant site may be of help in locating us if there's an emergency. But most of the time there's no emergency. Even so, our telephones, GPS navigation system, hand-held computers and similar devices know where we are at all times. We're never alone, even when we want to be.

I admit it. I'm a hermit. So I may be oversensitive to intrusions. And I know there is no stopping what we view as progress, whether I like it or not. But, perhaps, technology, and its detritus, are coming at us too fast. Perhaps what we want is overwhelming what we need. I'm convinced that it is. I suspect that too many people are so seduced by the wizardry, the newly discovered abilities, the speed, and the convenience, that they are blinded to the implications. What looks as if it is freeing them is actually doing the opposite. Mae West thought “too much of a good thing can be wonderful.” But it can also be destructive.

Bohr and Heisenberg once hiked to Elsinore – the site of Hamlet's castle. Hamlet had his demons, in the form of ghosts. I have mine too. But they're in the form of Big Brother, and all my little brothers and sisters all around who may be watching me. Leave me alone. I just want peace and quiet. I don't want Sarah Brown, or anyone else, not even Mae West, sharing my private time.  I want to be alone.

Next episode: “I've Got It Coming” – Don't I?

i     Sky Masterson, from Guys and Dolls, by Frank Loesser.

ii     As far as I know.

iii    A Walk in the Woods, 1986.

iv    Nor do I need or want to hear the loud racket of ring tones which are presented to me from the pockets of others wherever I go, and most annoyingly during a concert or religious service.

v    At least not at present. The time will come, however, when automobile manufacturers will not only remove the devices they've already installed – telephones, computer screens, and the like – but will find a way, when the engine is running, to deactivate those brought into their vehicles from outside. Or at least those in the front seat. Taxi and bus drivers may get edgy without their telephones and intercoms, but we'll all be safer. Even GPS's are distracting.