Thursday, 20 October 2011

Prevention as Standard, Cure as a Last Resort

Still waiting for the baby to show and our routine has now settled to the point that waiting no longer feels like a transient condition. Every morning Grandma calls, hoping for news and every week they come up and take Poz off Jane’s hands for a few hours, when it’s not a school day. I’ve cleared my desk at work and have a blissful nothing on. To be honest, I’m a such a lazy bastard I’m quite enjoying it. It’s going to be shock to actually have to do some proper work again. The important thing, I tell myself, is to accept this god-given hiatus with temperance and good grace. So, today I want to do some old man griping about logging on.

Sidestepping the obvious scatological and sexual interpretations of the activity, identity and online security are up-front contemporary issues. Unsurprisingly, perhaps, they irritate the b’Jesus out of me. Despite adopting a simple password system and a single preferred form of user ID, I still find myself facing the ‘failed Login’ screen on a regular basis. Some of this has to do with different requirements of the different portals – your user name should be a minimum of eight characters and include at least two numbers and two letters, one uppercase letter and a symbol from the Dead Sea Scrolls – and sometimes it’s because I change my password a little every so often to keep things tight.

I am often reminded when choosing a password that my identity is under attack. Despite this my choices never manage more than an amber light and even this is too hard to get right more than 80 percent of the time. I’m okay with online banking, because I use this every week, but other important less frequently accessed functions, like childcare vouchers or pension scheme details - or even more highly pressurised, credit card transaction validation procedures - are more difficult to manage. The former offer the ‘remind me who I am’ link, which is demeaning but useful, but there’s always that moment of competitive ‘I can do this’ which threatens to tip you over into teeth grindingly frustrating ‘account suspended’ territory.

My friend, Rob, who prefers Apple technology to a standard PC suggests I use an automatic login engine which does it all for you. My only beef with this is where it leaves you when you aren’t using your regular system. I can imagine even telephone banking becoming a closed road to me if I used an automated login system. Bottom line is it’s a right turn off. If a girl will pass on a kiss just because you’ve got spinach in your teeth, it’s understandable that a failed login often leads to a ‘forget it’ reaction. Once the spontaneity is gone, the moment quickly passes.

The login requirement is so prevalent now it has to have reached critical mass, surely? How much more logging on can a man do and still get stuff done? The sooner a mainstream online retinal ID system arrives, the better. Or is the argument about something more fundamental? I’ve never tried to log into something, even Facebook, as someone else. Why would I? Are we back to business here? I mean back to talking about security, as a business? Remember, Heathrow, Control Post 24?

It’s doing me in. You’re no fun anymore, life, with all your making sure and covering all bases. That stuff is for machines and I’m a person so can I opt out of online security and take my chances, anyone, please? I believe people are good until they are made to feel bad, and then they are capable of anything anyway, so let the light back in. I'm talking about trust as fraud prevention. Go on, give it a try. I leave my goddamn house unlocked and was only ever robbed once when everything was locked up. Prevention, in this sense, as standard please, cure as a last resort.