[Lily Hay Newman](https://www.wired.com/contributor/lily-hay-newman)

[Security](https://www.wired.com/category/security)
08.31.2020 07:00 AM

How Cryptography Lets Down Marginalized Communities

Speaking at a prestigious crypto conference this month, Seny Kamara called on 
the field to recognize its blind spots—and fix them.
[a protest]Even when encryption technologies are brought to underserved 
communities, they arrive retrofitted from other research projects.Photograph: 
PATRICK HAMILTON/Getty Images

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One of the perennial highlights of the International Association for 
Cryptologic Research's Crypto conference is the "invited talk." For an hour 
each year, a prominent scholar shares a big idea or new perspective on the 
protocols, algorithms, and math problems that underlie cutting-edge encryption. 
It's usually a deeply technical bacchanal, but this year was not. Prolific 
academic cryptographer Seny Kamara of Brown University had something other than 
formulas and theorems on his mind.

"So an actual question then is OK, well, what am I doing here, right?" Kamara 
asked the livestream attendees. "Why am I giving a talk at Crypto if I'm not 
talking about technical things? And, you know, basically I'm here because 
Ahmaud Arbery was killed in February, because Breonna Taylor was killed by a 
police officer in March, and because George Floyd was also killed by police 
officers in May."

The talk, dubbed [Crypto for the 
People](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ygq9ci0GFhA) and given on August 19, 
examined the question of who really benefits from encryption technologies and 
advances in cryptographic research. It sounded a call to reexamine research 
priorities that today largely serve the interests of governments and 
corporations instead of marginalized people, be they racial minorities, 
immigrants, women, the LGBTQ community, or others. As an immigrant and Black 
American—and one of the few Black academic cryptographers in the world—Kamara 
pointed out that even the open source community and movements like the 
cypherpunks largely don't directly work to address these needs. They are 
focused on taking power from corporations and developing technologies to defend 
people from mass government surveillance and digital intrusion, but generally 
not on developing encryption technologies and new areas of abstract theory that 
are specifically motivated by the needs of underserved communities.

"As long as I’ve been studying and working in cryptography and computer 
science, about 20 years now, it was always very clear to me that my own work 
and other people’s work was disconnected from my life experiences," Kamara 
tells WIRED. "I believed it could have an impact on people’s privacy as a 
whole, but I didn't think I would have cared about any of it when I was 13 or 
15 and growing up in New York City. And that disconnect always bothered me."

So much of cryptographic research is abstract and mathematical—divorced from 
real-world conditions—that it can be easy to simply let all lines of inquiry 
exist only in that theoretical space. And Kamara argues that even when 
encryption technologies are brought to underserved communities, they arrive 
retrofitted from other research projects, rather than conceived based on the 
needs of the vulnerable and the specific threats they face.

"There are problems and adversarial models that are unique to marginalized 
groups, and those problems are not being investigated."

Seny Kamara, Brown University

"As academics working on policy questions, we motivate our work in grant 
applications and so on by arguing that it benefits the people in some way," 
says Abdoulaye Ndiaye, a macroeconomics researcher at New York University who 
discovered Kamara's Crypto talk on Twitter. "However, the consumers of our 
research are other academics, government institutions, and, in some fields, 
businesses. There is this underlying assumption that these entities will 
implement the research and it will trickle down to the underserved people. Dr. 
Kamara highlighted that in cryptography the incentives of the government and 
the business are not necessarily aligned with underserved people, the missing 
link in this trickle down."

Encryption technologies do provide protection to vulnerable groups around the 
world like political dissidents, activists, and journalists. Kamara's talk made 
the case, though, that purpose-built cryptography could accomplish so much more.

In his own research at Brown, for example, Kamara and his colleagues have done 
work motivated by law enforcement databases in the United States that track 
alleged criminals like possible gang members. In a 2015 audit of a California 
state platform called CalGang, for example, 42 people entered in the database 
were under the age of 1 year old. In a sample of 100 entries from the database, 
13 of the people represented should not have been in the database at all, and 
131 of the 563 evidence points used against the 100 people were not supported.

So Kamara has worked on developing secure database schemes in which data can be 
audited and checked privately but transparently, that does not allow data to be 
exported or duplicated, and that deletes entries automatically after a given 
amount of time without special authorization from an authority like a judge.

"I think there is an intersection between traditional cryptography and privacy 
and what I was calling 'crypto for the people,'" Kamara says. "There is 
research and there are tools that can be beneficial to large subsets of people, 
as in the [encrypted messaging app 
Signal](https://www.wired.com/story/signal-tips-private-messaging-encryption/). 
But there are also problems and adversarial models that are unique to 
marginalized groups, and those problems are not being investigated. For 
example, not everyone ends up in a gang database, and certainly very few 
cryptographers or academic computer science researchers end up in gang 
databases."

Kamara also advocated using the flexibility and security of tenured 
professorships as an opportunity to push the envelope of what cryptographic 
research can be—including in the case of his own talk. "I went into it 
thinking, 'I’m glad I have tenure, because this is going to cost me,'" he says. 
But Kamara says the response has been very positive so far. "I’m sure there are 
many others who disagree and didn’t like the talk, but so far they haven’t 
reached out to let me know," Kamara says.

The long-standing question of morality in cryptography rarely makes it to the 
foreground, even within the academic community itself. The discourse flared up 
in the wake of Edward Snowden's 2013 revelations about mass digital 
surveillance by the National Security Agency, particularly after a [seminal 
2015 paper](https://web.cs.ucdavis.edu/~rogaway/papers/moral-fn.pdf) by UC 
Davis cryptographer Phillip Rogaway, which made the case that cryptography is 
"an inherently political tool" with "an intrinsically moral dimension."

"I plead for a reinvention of our disciplinary culture to attend not only to 
puzzles and math, but, also, to the societal implications of our work," Rogaway 
wrote.

Five years later, he says he doesn't see many changes in the research most 
cryptographers are doing or the topics they are discussing at conferences. But 
he adds that he was impressed with Kamara's talk and the steps it took to move 
the discourse forward. The essay Rogaway wrote in 2015, he says, would now 
include not just a discussion of the ethical need to defend the masses against 
mass surveillance, but an entreaty that the academic community focus more of 
its work on serving marginalized groups.

"We don’t work in a vacuum and we’re not pure mathematicians," Rogaway told 
WIRED. "As much as certain cryptographers would like to see themselves as doing 
pure mathematics on some kind of quest of discovery, that’s not an apt 
description of where we sit. The field does have these very strong political 
connections and connections to power. And if we just say, 'Oh, that’s not my 
domain,' that in itself is a really politically situated, ahistorical view and 
ultimately quite elitist."

Today, partly because of rapidly expanding anti-abuse work on social networks 
and communication platforms, the idea of an ethical imperative in privacy 
technologies has become more mainstream. But much of the actual work in 
cryptography remains fundamentally abstract. The practical applications that do 
exist often originated with a narrow field of view.

"Building the same stuff you always did but claiming that it's for people in 
marginalized communities is not the same thing as human-centric threat 
modeling," wrote Lea Kissner, a cryptographer and security engineer focused on 
anti-abuse and privacy, in a [series of 
tweets](https://twitter.com/LeaKissner/status/1298257529680494592) about 
Kamara's talk last week.

The type of tailored, threat-specific research Kamara described requires 
intimate knowledge of the actual, nuanced needs of a marginalized group. Kamara 
emphasized in his talk that the cryptography community needs to be much more 
inclusive and representative if it wants to help the vulnerable. And 
researchers need to seek firsthand expertise to gain a deeper understanding 
case by case.

"I think the only reason we have a hard time imagining what this looks like is 
because, effectively, we’ve been trained for 40 years to do corporate research. 
So we lack the imagination, skills, and knowledge to do research 'for the 
people,'" Kamara says. "But diversity is crucial for this."

Following the shootings of Breonna Taylor, George Floyd, and Jacob Blake, 
Kamara says fellow cryptographers and other computer scientists have reached 
out to him to talk about systemic changes that could be aided by technical 
solutions to reduce police brutality. Kamara says he welcomes these 
discussions, "but most of those people have never been attacked by the police. 
They don’t understand the psychological pressure you’re under and the confusion 
you’re experiencing when five cops are running at you. These kinds of details 
matter."

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