Sam Hartman

At some point over dinner, I realized that I would be entirely unsurprised if the person sitting across from me was assassinated by the US government in the next couple of years. I kept coming back to that and trying to grasp it, to feel it, to respond to the enormity and horror that my government would probably be quite happy if my dinner companion ended up dead.

I was at the IETF meeting in Berlin. Some subset of the security area had a guest presentation on privacy, talking about recent NSA spying. We focused on how to improve the security of the Internet against passive attack and what we as protocol engineers can do to improve privacy in our protocols. As an example, it seems like ephemeral keys generated with some key agreement such as ECDH are more clearly desirable than they've ever been before.

My last night in town, I had a long conversation and then dinner with one of the presenters. I don't think he's a terrorist; I'd be surprised if he were violent. He's certainly done things the US dislikes including working on software to promote Internet anonymity, supporting people using that sort of software for things like Wikileaks, and file suit against the US government when his privacy and liberty was threatened by the US. If there are crimes he's committed, they should be addressed in a court of law, not with murder and covert operations.

We talked a bit about his legal cases and about how he's been harassed by the US government. Mostly, though, we talked about peoples' reactions to recent revelations about spying and US activity. I talked about how at one level I'm not surprised to find that the US spies on people. At another level, though, knowing not just that people can observe the Internet, but that the whole thing is recorded on an ongoing basis changes how I evaluate risks. I knew that they could; now I know that I can count on passive attacks against everything I do. That changes how I feel; that changes how I approach risk. I talked about feelings of fear and powerlessness because I'm not able to meet my need for privacy in my thoughts and personal affects. Then we talked about forms of coersion that are employed to force people to spy on others or to take other actions demanded by the US government.

One of the most frightening things is that I realized for years, I've been under-estimating the impact. When I first read 1984 I thought about it as an artifact of past fears of totalitarianism. When I saw depictions of a government turning to torture in 90's science fiction, I viewed it as brutish and unrealistic. Even if someone were that evil, they'd never resort to such ineffective mechanisms. then we were confronted of pictures of our soldiers sexually assulting and torturing prisoners. That could never happen here in the US. It kept on. But even when I read Little Brother, I thought it was a bit over the top. It isn't though; I have high confidence that all that happens here, in the US, targeted at American citizens. Perhaps not yet at our kids. Sadly the responses proposed in the book would not be nearly as effective in real life. What will be next? What will I consider too unlikely to happen until I am confronted with it in my daily life?

Somewhere in the dinner, I realized that there are actions I can take--actions I must take to be true to myself. I can live with intent, working with my actions and thoughts and words to create the world in which I choose to live. For me that means I will not allow my conduct to be chilled by what I think possible. I will not bow to threats of greater scrutiny or bullying for being the person I choose to be, for thinking what I choose to think and for speaking my mind.

I don't think it's likely that I'll ever interact with the government or be the recipient of their special attention. I don't collect information on people. The software I write is good security software, but by its nature it's easier for the government to approach the operators of my software to collect information than to coerce me to include a back door. However, if I'm wrong on that and I receive a legal instrument, I'll comply. However I'll draw the line. I will not have my behavior coerced by threats to myself or threats to those I care about. I can do more to protect myself and people I care about by being the kind of person who it is pointless to threaten than I can by being pressured and hoping those pressuring me will play nice and not exert ever-increasing pressure. That said, I realize everyone can be broken both psychologically and physically and I'm no exception. Part of me still feels silly thinking this way: the government doesn't pressure law-abiding citizens; I have nothing to fear. Another part of me realizes that I've been so wrong about the scope of all this in the past and that I do know people for whom these decisions are not at all theoretical. I might as well be prepared.

Somewhere in all this, I came to the realization that it's not a huge step from what my dinner companion has already faced to violence and assassination. Later in the conversation he mentioned that he's received advice to become sufficiently famous for his murder to be unprofitable. Based on the source, I think the advice is delivered with reasonable knowledge of the US's practices and have no evidence the source tends to hyperbole. My dinner companion is someone that several people in the privacy community I know and value have spoken of with respect. Someone who works on software, someone works to try and change peoples' minds through persuasive argument and facts. Someone who for a few accidents and a slightly more conservative political outlook I could have been. having realized all this, I can no longer say I don't know; I'm unaware of what my government is doing. As an American, I must take on my share of responsibility for what's going on here.

to be clear, I am not radical; I believe in the rule of law and reasoned discourse. I'm not even proposing that I significantly change how I live my life. I simply believe I should be mindful of what is going on with privacy, and to help others form their opinions. Someday perhaps I'll have a pro-privacy anti-torture candidate to vote for. Wouldn't that be a desirable change!

I wrote this on the plane back to the US after IETF. It's several days later and I'm pondering posting it. My gut clenches; I'm afraid when I think about posting because I don't have confidence that I can speak my mind without fear of negative consequences. I've decided that I will post this. As someone who has chosen to live a life of intent and to promote love and connection, I want to act as if I live in the world in which I would choose to live. In that world I should say this.

Last week I stepped down from the IESG. The week before that was my last telechat. I've had telechats every Thursday for the last three years. It feels kind of empty. I am going to miss the IESG. Especially the most recent IESG was a really wonderful group of people to work with. I'm also going to miss being that involved in the internet standards process. It was interesting to know about all the work proposed for publication in the IETF. I always found I was learning new things.

However I'm also happy with my decision to leave. I want to focus on my family and on my career. I don't think I had quite reached the point of IESG burn out but was beginning to build up frustration with some working groups and authors.

I definitely recommend a term or two on the IESG to anyone who is qualified and interested. It was one of the most rewarding and challenging things I've ever done. be warned though that it is expensive both in terms of time and emotional energy.

I'm shocked at how easy it is for people to be sheep. Last week, I was at the IESG retreat. After the new IESG is seated, we typically have a retreat to get to know each other, show people how to do their job, etc. One of the things that really stuck out at the retreat in my mind was the number of cases where people admitted that they had been uncomfortable with something we were doing but not raised an objection. In several cases it turned out that most of the IESG was uncomfortable with the situation, but we all went forward thinking we were the only one with concerns. Oops. Consensus is hard, let's go shopping.

Can we all please wake from our collective insanity and learn to treat each other professionally? Really it does work better to treat others professionaly even if they do not extend the same to you.

The usual storm is brewing about process reform in the IETF. I keep getting stuck in the middle because I'm too emotionally involved to not care about the process issues and because I try to do a good job of things I care about. I had an intuitive leap Monday night around 4 AM. A few months ago I was comparing IETF process issues to comments from a class Shava was teaching about non-violent social change. I noticed similarities. Monday night I actually managed to understand how that fit the IETF at an intuitive level. This entry is me brainstorming about what is needed and how to tell people. Your comments are welcome, but I'm putting the rest behind a cut to save those who don't care. ( Read more... )

A while back I commented on concerns about the ISD proposals expressed by the IESG. We've created yet another stir by declining a request to assign an IANA codepoint. I was responsible for the most controversial part of that decision: we went beyond declining the request and actually recommended against bringing the request for IETF review. The reason was simple. We think we know the parties involved well enough to know that the proposal will not be received favorably. We don't think spending years reviewing the proposal and ultimately deciding against will be in anyone's interest.

Putting it mildly, some people are upset. There are a lot of reasons; here I'm going to focus on people who are upset because we made a specific recommendation. What puzzles me is that some of these people would have been happier if we had withheld our belief that the review effort would be a waste of time. It seems misleading to withheld this information: the requester might well assume that we were supportive of the request but just wanted broader review. Such an impression would create great frustration when years later after review, the request was declined. There's an impression that by expressing an opinion, the IESG will not fairly follow the process should the community try to take a different course. Some seem unwilling to believe that if the requester did actually want IETF review the IESG would follow a fair process in seeking that review. I can understand the idea that if the IESG has a strong opinion it might get in the way of fair process. However that's true regardless of whether we actually express the opinion. It seems important to express such opinions; it seems important not to give people the false impression that they should spend a lot of time on a proposal without giving them realistic estimation of their chances of success. We need to find a way to do that without causing those who decide to go against our recommendation to feel that we are being unfair.

Another current frustration is the idea that the IESG is not part of the community. Particularly on process issues, some have expressed the opinion that when looking for consensus the IESG should be discounted. That seems dangerous: you don't want to exclude the opinion of a reasonably large subset of the people active in working with the standards process when deciding how that process should work. Besides leading to bad solutions, it is personally frustrating to be told that no, you aren't worth listening to. I realize it comes with the job. That doesn't mean I have to like it.

Ugh, I hate having a strong dissenting opinion when there is a majority with equally strong beliefs. It sucks to be alone. It sucks to be alone especially when you are in a position where you can force the issue. If I'm right, that's necessary and will hopefully end up producing a better final result. But if I'm wrong or I end up failing to convince people, I waste huge tracts of everyone's time. I don't enjoy this sort of pressure,although I guess it comes for free with much of what I do enjoy.

Well, it's Monday evening and I'm already tired. I was appointed to replace Steve as one of the two security area directors. The nomcom process is the most grueling and stressful process I've been through in a while; in many ways like applying to college all over again. The nomcom application started with around 10 essay questions back in October; they encouraged complete answers and mentioned no length limit. For me, answering the questions took around 30k of text. The process went on from there, concluding with weeks of nail-biting stress waiting to hear about the decision. I didn't find out until Sunday morning after I had arrived at the meeting. I'm glad I was selected; in order to put together a good application you have to invest a fair bit of effort and be prepared for a significant time commitment. There is bound to be disappointment—probably mixed with relief—associated with not being
selected. I'm starting to figure out what is involved. A lot of work is ahead. I think I'll enjoy things; I hope I do a good job.

Last week was IETF 60. Not surprisingly there were several group dinners at IETF.

I remember my first IETF. It was 6 years ago in Chicago. I remember the group dinners; there was a lot of sitting around not really knowing people trying to understand how the IETF worked. There was also a lot of learning and listening to those who were doing the work and making the decisions. We sort of clumped by experience. Well, we actually clumped by who we knew, but that fairly quickly turned into clumping by experience.

AT one of the larger group dinners this week, it hit me that I'm no longer new to the IETF. The group of people I tend to hang out with—mostly a GSSAPI and Kerberos cabal—have become very active and involved. We're actually doing work, helping others and giving back to the process.

While it was nice to realize that I'm making a difference, it was also sad to think about all the people who have moved on and are no longer actively involved. Some of them are still around and working in an advisory role, Others seem to have burned out or had jobs take them in a different direction.