July 31, 2005
The Sniffer vs. the Cybercrooks
By GARY RIVLIN
http://www.nytimes.com/2005/07/31/business/yourmoney/31hack.html?ei=5094&en=
5d15897f3b6ee96a&hp=&ex=1122868800&partner=homepage&pagewanted=print

THE investment bank, despite billions in annual revenue and the small
squadron of former police, military and security officers on its payroll,
was no match for Mark Seiden.

"Tell me the things you most want to keep secret," Mr. Seiden challenged a
top executive at the bank a few years back. The executive listed two. One
involved the true identities of clients negotiating deals so hush-hush that
even people inside the bank referred to them by using a code name. The other
was the financial details of those mergers and acquisitions.

A week later, Mr. Seiden again sat in this man's office in Manhattan, in
possession of both supposedly guarded secrets. As a bonus, he also had in
hand a pilfered batch of keys that would give him entry into this company's
offices scattered around the globe, photocopies of the floor plans for each
office and a suitcase stuffed with backup tapes that would have allowed him
to replicate all the files on the bank's computer system.

"Basically, that all came from working nights over a single weekend," he
said with a canary-eating smile that seemed equal parts mischief and pride.

Mr. Seiden is what some people inside the security industry call a
"sniffer": someone who is paid to twist doorknobs for a living, to see which
are safely locked and which are left dangerously unsecured. Clients
sometimes hire Mr. Seiden, a former computer programmer, to buttress the
security systems that protect their computers and other precious corporate
assets. But primarily, large corporations turn to him to test the
vulnerability of their networks.

"Mark is one of the more respected people out there doing this kind of
work," said Bruce Schneier, a security expert and the author of "Beyond
Fear: Thinking Sensibly About Security in an Uncertain World." Mr. Schneier
called him "one of the good guys."

And for Mr. Seiden and others practicing the strange craft of intrusion
detection, business has never been better. As data-security breaches at
places like ChoicePoint and LexisNexis have made headlines, there has been a
"tremendous surge in vulnerability assessments" in recent months, said
Howard A. Schmidt, a former chief security officer at Microsoft who has also
worked inside the White House on cybersecurity issues.

Indeed, purloined Social Security and credit card numbers are the new top
prizes of the 21st-century cybercriminal. "In the early days of the
Internet, breaking into systems was about bragging rights. It was about
technical prowess. It was breaking into systems just to break in," said Mr.
Schmidt, who is now working as an independent security consultant in
Issaquah, Wash. "Now what we're seeing are economic crimes in a way we've
never seen before."

That is why corporations and other large organizations are increasingly
turning to people like Mr. Seiden to assess the soundness of their security
systems. No one knows how many people make their living doing what people in
the industry call penetration testing, though clearly their numbers are
climbing. The most recent Computer Crime and Security Survey - released
earlier this month by the F.B.I. and Computer Security Institute, an
information security trade group - said that more than 87 percent of the
organizations they polled conduct regular security audits, up from 82
percent a year earlier.

"Since the beginning of the calendar year we've seen a great increase in the
number of calls from enterprises looking for someone to do security
vulnerability testing for them," said Kelly M. Kavanagh, an analyst who
tracks the security industry for Gartner Inc., a technology research group.

CORPORATIONS in North America spent more than $2 billion on outside security
consultants in 2004, Mr. Kavanagh said. That was up 14 percent from the
previous year.

As a result of all that spending, a large organization's data center -
whether it holds a company's most precious trade secrets or the credit card
numbers of millions of customers - is generally much better protected than
it was just a few years ago. Yet that has meant only that the bad guys, and
those in the business of thwarting them, must become more creative.

"Most systems are like this Tootsie Roll Pop," Mr. Seiden said. "They have
this hard, crunchy outside, but they're very gooey and soft inside. And once
you get past that crunchy outside and you're inside, you can do anything."
Nowadays, cybercriminals are more likely to gain access to a computer system
by picking a lock or cleverly bluffing their way inside a building than by
outsmarting those who run a company's data center.

To keep pace, sniffers must do their best to think like an enterprising
thief. Mr. Seiden, who divides his time between residences in Manhattan and
Silicon Valley, has a closetful of uniforms he has gathered rummaging
through thrift shops and browsing on eBay. The collection includes the
distinctive purple and green polo shirts worn by FedEx drivers, shirts from
various architectural design firms and the windbreaker worn by the Iron
Mountain employees who drive their homely Ford Econoline 350's around
America's streets picking up backup files - and, occasionally, losing those
files. (In May, Time Warner, one of Iron Mountain's clients, disclosed that
the Social Security numbers of 600,000 of its current and former employees
went missing while in Iron Mountain's care.)

Mr. Seiden is also apparently quite handy with the tools that criminals use
to pick locks, and he is something of a legend inside security circles for
figuring out that the easiest way for an intruder to get inside a locked
room is sometimes through the ceiling, in the space between the actual
ceiling and the tiles dropped down a couple of feet to make room for
ventilation equipment.

"Mark is known for his more creative solutions to security problems," Mr.
Schneier said.

Mr. Seiden's girlfriend complains that the two of them will visit a museum
but that he will barely take time to notice the art because he's too busy
assessing the security system. He will visit a new apartment and provide,
unbidden, a critique of the building's buzzer system, the relative
worthiness of the front door and the cheap hunk of brass that most people
would consider a worthy lock. Walking down the street, Mr. Seiden seems
almost offended when passing a storefront that has an oversized safe,
seemingly impenetrable, sitting in plain sight.

"All I'd have to do is put up a tiny camera here," he says, shaking his
head, "and I'd have a recording of the combination when someone unlocks it."

In Mr. Seiden's presence, it's easy to find yourself feeling suddenly
paranoid. Passing an automated teller machine prompts him to recount the
time an employee of an A.T.M. manufacturer was arrested, suspected of
putting a piece of hacked code inside around 100 machines - a surreptitious
way for a band of thieves to capture people's secret passwords and the data
embedded on their swipe cards. And don't even get him started about airports
and the security flaws he spots every time he travels.

Standing 5-foot-7, Mr. Seiden is shaped vaguely like the Buddha. He is 54
years old and friendly in a way that makes it easier for him to talk his way
into places. He seems to have a gift for blending in; he says he finds that
if he carries a clipboard and looks officious, no one bothers to question
his presence. But he is a man with a robust ego who enjoys the limelight. He
wears glasses and a thick beard littered with gray and, when not in costume,
he tends to dress in classic high geek: sandals and shorts, even when
there's a decided chill in the air, and T-shirts that are either tie-died or
freebies that promote an obscure technology product.

Mr. Seiden seems the computer-world equivalent of the police officer
motivated to join the force at least in part by his desire to drive too fast
and to carry a gun. His eyes twinkle playfully when sharing his tricks of
the trade, like his propensity for lingering around a taco truck while
construction workers are on break and then casually walking among them, hard
hat under arm, suddenly inside a supposedly secure site.

In a sense, Mr. Seiden's career as an accomplished intruder working on the
side of good began while he attended Columbia University in the late 1960's.
He studied mathematics and linguistics but, as he described it, spent most
of his time working at the radio station. He was at Columbia when students
commandeered buildings and the police sprayed the protesters with tear gas.
To gain access to the story as it was unfolding, he learned the tunnel
system that honeycombed the campus and figured out how to pick locks so that
he could enter from below the buildings that students were occupying.

He taught himself computer programming while attending the Bronx High School
of Science. His earliest jobs were as a computer scientist inside some of
the country's more prestigious research facilities and technology companies,
including I.B.M. and Bell Laboratories. His résumé from those years also
includes stints as a recording engineer and one doing the sound and lighting
for a dance troupe. In 1983, feeling burned out after two years at a Silicon
Valley start-up, he ventured out on his own, hanging out his shingle as a
computer consultant. Seven years later, a friend asked his help in designing
a system that allowed people to use a credit card safely over the Internet -
and Mr. Seiden was hooked. From that day, network security became his
specialty.

"If you're serious about creating a secure system, you need two people to do
it," he said. "You need someone who sets it up and one who checks it.
Different people see different things; people have different strengths. And
people make mistakes."

Mr. Seiden may qualify as something of a supergeek, but over time he has
found that it's often the nontechnical and mundane that he is best able to
exploit. A perfect example is that investment bank whose most precious
secrets he was able to learn in only a few days. (Mr. Seiden would talk
about the bank, a widely recognized brand, only if its name was not used.)

The bank may have had in place some of the best security software that money
could buy, but just by having a badge that the bank routinely grants outside
consultants, he was able to roam the building as he wanted. That badge
didn't grant him access to the computer room, but it didn't matter. He
figured out the location of the facilities department and discovered that
the schematics for the bank's headquarters, and the master keys, were stored
inside a filing cabinet that it took a minute or two for him to pick.

While strolling around, he also found the backup tapes to the bank's central
computers sitting in suitcases, "so I walked away with a set of backups," he
said.

WITH a master key, he knew that he could get into any office in the bank's
main headquarters. Then he used what he fancifully called "social
engineering techniques" - meaning that he picked up a phone and, pretending
to be a banker inside the company, called the accounting department, and
asked: Whom should someone contact to assign a code name to a project?

"The clerk who assigned code words left that stuff in folder in a file
cabinet," he said. "It was in a locked area in a locked office - so why
would she have to lock the file cabinet?" Of course, even if she had locked
the file cabinet, Mr. Seiden would have been able to pick the lock.

In the end, however, there is only so much that can - or should - be done to
keep the villainous at bay. "Given a decent budget, I can break into any
network," said Mr. Schneier, the author. "The real question is to what
extent is it critical to defend." Vulnerability testing is something that
any company must do, he said, but security is always a matter of trade-offs.
As security experts like Mr. Schneier often say, one could build a more
secure house if it had no windows, but no one would want to live there.

"You need to recognize that you're not going to make a system 100 percent
safe," said Richard Mogull, a Gartner analyst specializing in security. "But
the truth is that 99.9 percent of the people you're protecting against have
only rudimentary skills. And as much fun as it is to tell stories how you
can get into almost any place, the reality is that you can waste a lot of
time finding that one chink in the armor."

Mr. Seiden doesn't disagree that the benefits of vulnerability testing are
limited. He tells of the six weeks he spent in Asia this year on behalf of a
giant Internet company, one of his best clients. There he tested the
security of the sites the company uses to house the computers that serve up
its Web pages.

After Mr. Seiden proved that he could break into those facilities, his
client installed video cameras so it could monitor the sites remotely.

"Basically you can't prevent a determined adversary who has unlimited
resources from breaching security," he said. "What you want to do is prevent
yourself from being taken and not know about it. At least if you know about
it, you know what's been compromised and you can fix it up afterward."



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