Here are the links to all the New America blog posts:
By Max Smeets and James Shires. More info about the series here
Over the last few decades there has been a proliferation of the term “cyber”, and commensurate levels of inconsistency. This series argues that the inconsistent application of the prefix “cyber” stems not only from confusion, as some scholars and policymakers have proposed, but also from contest. Our goal of this series is not to resolve conceptual disputes, but instead to understand how and why contests occur, and whether, once the lines along which contests occur are identified, resolution is possible.
As the prefix “cyber” has rarely been used alone, we place the concept of cyberspace at the centre of analysis, for two reasons. First, it is considered to be the “elemental” concept in the field, and demarcates the boundaries of relevant technical and social activity through an intuitive geographical metaphor. Second, selecting the concept “cyberspace” for analysis can be considered a least-likely (or least-obvious) study of contest. The attachment of the prefix “cyber” to various nouns has left cyber-related concepts with a variety of underlying normative connotations. On the one side, some concepts describe a clear activity or state of affairs, which are prima facie undesirable, like “cyber warfare” or “cyber threat”. On the other side, various concepts reflect a more positive degree of attractiveness—“cyber democracy” is a good example of this. The obvious normative aspects of these terms to which the cyber prefix is attached make these likely sites for contest, whereas “cyberspace” is seemingly more neutral. We suggest instead that it is the ominous calm at the heart of the storm, providing an excellent case in which to study the tension regarding the prefix more broadly.
Over the next six days, we will publish a series of blog post that show that cyberspace is contested in a number of ways: through its change in connotations from opportunity to threat; through the existence of substantive and implied definitions, with different rhetorical functions; and through competing understandings of the key historical exemplar for cyberspace: that of ARPANET. We therefore note that the prospects for agreement regarding cyberspace are low. Overall, this presents the choice of what we term, following Hirschman, an ‘exit’ rather than ‘voice’ strategy, to use other concepts instead. An initial post in this series was published last Friday at Slate’s Future Tense and can be found here.
PART 1. Cyber: not just a confused but also a contested concept.
Since the early 1990s the prefix “cyber” has become widespread. As often noted, its use stretches back to Norbert Wiener’s coinage of “cybernetics” from its Greek equivalent in the 1940s. It is similarly canonical to cite novelist William Gibson as creating the “ur” metaphor for this prefix in the early 1980s by combining it with “space”. Almost three decades later in an interview with The A.V. Club, Gibson argued that “‘cyberspace’ as a term is sort of over. It’s over in the way that after a certain time, people stopped using the prefix ‘-electro’ to make things cool, because everything was electrical. ‘Electro’ was all over the early twentieth century, and now it’s gone. I think ‘cyber’ is sort of the same way”.
In contrast to Gibson’s prediction, a simple automated content analysis using Google Trends indicates that the popularity of the prefix “cyber” has remained stable (with a spike in November each year for “cyber Monday”). There are ever more applications of this prefix, to words such as crime, law, cafe, hate, bullying, attack, war, vandalism, politics, dating, security, and power. Today, more people enter the search term “cyber” into Google than the term “democracy” or “terrorist”. Needless to say, the term “cyber” has also gained in prominence in academia and policymaking.
The proliferation of this prefix has, inevitably, led to substantial inconsistencies in its use. On one level, these contradictions may stem from simple confusion. As Michael Hayden, former director of the CIA and NSA, remarked: “rarely has something been so important and so talked about with less clarity and apparent understanding than this phenomenon.” Scholars and policy-makers, among others, are not always consistent in their own usage of cyber-related concepts, and they sometimes reinterpret the definitions employed by others, especially when given a liberal dose of cross-disciplinary fertilization.
Many hold that such disagreement is primarily caused by the apparently abstruse and multifaceted nature of the phenomenon. For example, in a Foreign Policy article, Stephen Walt notes that “the whole issue is highly esoteric—you really need to know a great deal about computer networks, software, encryption, etc., to know how serious the danger might be,” concluding that “here are lots of different problems being lumped under a single banner, whether the label is ‘cyber-terror’ or ‘cyber-war’. If this is the case, more research can iron out the lack of clarity surrounding this relatively young concept, and then we can get to the one and only “meaning of the cyber revolution,” as Lucas Kello emphasizes in his recent book (and earlier article). However, in this article series we argue that the inconsistent application of the prefix “cyber” stems not only from confusion, but also from contestation.
In other words, the roots of disagreement are deeper than a mere struggle to absorb the collective knowledge of another discipline, but stem from underlying normative disagreements.
Understanding the nature and extent of this contestation of “cyber” is important for both policy-making and academic research. For policy-makers, the promise of what Joseph Nye Jr. calls “rules of the road” in cyberspace is much diminished if the very domain itself remains in question (also see the UK government strategy). Constructing effective international cyber-governance becomes more difficult—although not impossible—if the scope of what to be governed is fundamentally disputed.
For academics, if the roots of disagreement are deeper, then faith in a unified understanding of the cyber-issue is utopic; and further investigation of why and how broader political disputes are translated into problems with this proliferating prefix is urgently required.
Here we will explore what it means when we talk about cyber, and address the nature of contestation from various angles.
This article was originally posted @NewAmerica
Cybersecurity firms, despite their increasing prominence in light of greater media attention at Russian and Chinese cyber operations, are often criticized for their biases when identifying advanced persistent threat actors (APT). Two critiques are most-often heard. Security researcher Carr put his finger on one of the sore spots:
“How is it that our largest infosec companies fail to discover APT threat groups from Western nations (w/ @kaspersky as the exception)” (Twitter)
A second issue frequently mentioned is that threat intelligence firms have an incentive to exaggerate the cyber threat. If a firm is able to discover a highly advanced threat, it must mean that it has advanced detection capabilities and you should buy their product.
There is a third and potentially more damning charge that can be levelled against cybersecurity firms. Like palaeontologists or astronomers, cybersecurity firms like to name their new discoveries. But unlike other sciences, the liberal naming of threat actors and incidents causes a host of problems that confuses accurate data collection and determining whether a threat group still constitutes a threat.
First, giving the same name to different cyber incidents is unnecessarily confusing. Cloud Atlas is also named Inception. Saffron Rose also goes by the name Flying Kitten and Ajax Team. Dark Hotel is also called Tapaoux, Luder or Nemim. Dyncalc is APT12 or Numbered Panda. Hangover is Viceroy Tiger. Mirage is Vixen Panda. Cabarnak is Anunak. Sofacy is also called APT28, OP Pawn Storm or Fancy Bear. The list goes on. Can you still keep them separate?
Granted, attribution is more difficult in cyberspace. Unlike palaeontologists, cyber threat intelligence firms can’t use carbon dating to identify the origins or age of their discoveries. But that makes it all the more important that firms are cautious with their labelling.
Cybersecurity firms mostly rely on circumstantial evidence, and different firms rely on different data, techniques and resources to extract this information. New pieces of evidence can increase the plausibility of a given attributive theory or raise doubts about it, but are not decisive by themselves. It means security researchers constantly need to link (new) pieces of evidence to update their beliefs about a threat actor. By giving the same threat different names, they might miss out on knitting the pieces of evidence together.
Perhaps some in the information security community have less difficulties understanding the diverse threat landscape. However, the confusing labelling creates a barrier for others, particularly with policymakers and journalists who do not have the time or knowledge to cross-reference the alphabet soup of labels. When the information security community claim that ‘others’ don’t get it, the accusation might sometimes be a fair one. However, the liberal labelling behavior is more likely to widen than narrow the gap.
The constant urge to (re)name makes it also more likely that cybersecurity firms refer to old threats as new ones. The same actor may have simply acquired new skills. A hacker group on a given day might have analyzed the code of another cyberattack and realized they could include a certain part in their platform as well. Being too quick in naming new threat actors, firms are more likely to lose sight of how actors might have evolved. They are more likely to exaggerate network learning effects (i.e. that one threat actor learned from another actor) and underestimate a single threat actor’s ability to learn (i.e. that the same actor acquired new skills).
There are a few steps that cybersecurity firms could do to remedy the naming problem. First, if a competitor has already discovered a threat actor, the threat actor shouldn’t be renamed to fit another company’s branding. Even though renaming is in a firm’s interest to promote its brand, it sows confusion across the cybersecurity community and frustrates efforts to obtain accurate data on incidents and threat actors.
Second, when a firm decides to name a new cyber threat, it should also publish a public threat report about it. Dmitri Alperovitch, co-founder of Crowdstrike, presented a paper in 2014 listing various adversaries. However, Crowdstrike hasn’t published any technical reports on many of these APTs—like Foxy Panda and Cutting Kitten. Additionally, when naming a cyber threat, cybersecurity firms need to be clearer whether it refers to a campaign (e.g. a series of activities carried out by a specific actor), the type of malware, the incident or a specific actor.
Third, the cybersecurity industry should create a set of common criteria to determine when an APT should be classified as such. Currently, it is unclear which criteria companies use before publicizing and categorizing the discovery of a new threat. For example, Stuxnet is often referred to as a single cyber weapon despite the fact that it is two separate entities, each with different targets. One focused on closing the isolation valves of the Natanz uranium enrichment facility and the other aimed to change the speeds of the rotors in the centrifuges. The second one was also heavily equipped with four zero-day exploits and used various propagation techniques, whereas the first one did not. Finally, some have hypothesized that Stuxnet changed hands a few times before it was deployed. If the target, technique, and threat actor are not the same, why do so many still refer to Stuxnet as one APT?
If cybersecurity firms were bit more careful with labelling, they would help themselves and others in the field find out which ATPs are new and which ones are extinct.
This article was first published on the Net Politics Blog of the Council on Foreign Relations.