The Cuckoo's Egg

by Clifford Stoll

I wore the standard Berkeley corporate uniform: grubby shirt, faded jeans, long hair, and cheap sneakers. Managers occasionally wore ties, but productivity went down on the days they did.

I imagined that military computers were a whole different story—they’d be as tightly secured as a military base. And even if you did get into a military computer, it’s absurd to think you could start a war. Those things just aren’t controlled by computers, I thought.

I didn’t like the White Sands system. I couldn’t remember computer-generated passwords, so I’d write them in my wallet or next to my terminal. Much better to allow people to choose their own passwords. Sure, some people would pick guessable passwords, like their names. But at least they wouldn’t complain about having to memorize some nonsense word like “tremvonk,” and they wouldn’t write them down. But the hacker got into my system and was rebuffed at White Sands. Maybe random passwords, obnoxious and dissonant, are more secure. I don’t know.

“What would the CIA use computers for? Can you overthrow foreign governments with software?”

“How about dropping by that school and see if you can spot any computers—most schools have ’em.

I’d heard of fiber optics. Running communications signals over strands of glass, instead of copper wires. But who was running fiber-optic cables under the ocean?

“Any system can be insecure. All you have to do is stupidly manage it.”

Systems designers needed to know about this problem—to build stronger operating systems. Computer managers ought to know, too. And every person who used a password should be warned. It’s a simple rule: don’t pick passwords that might show up in a dictionary. Why hadn’t anyone told me?