Reminiscing about the “good old days” often leads to memories of the gone-but-not-forgotten-era when everyone used to leave their front door unlocked. Unfortunately, times have changed to the point where I would be grateful if my front door were the only thing that did require locking. It is sad to say that we’ve reached a level of international paranoia where we are forced to “lock” things that barely even existed back in the day. Cell phones, computers, bank accounts, alarm systems, copy machines, and, yes, even our front doors often require codes. This inundation of random strings of letters and numbers taxes our short-term memory to the degree that it is creating a national crisis, at least in my household.
Now, if we had the option of writing down our passwords, life wouldn’t be so stressful. However, the security wizards have made it clear that writing your passwords is a big no-no. This is due to the fact that your password might be discovered by all the evil people out there who could actually find that little piece of paper in the bottom of your purse that says xhk1033pq (whoops!). Therefore, committing your password(s) to memory is expected. Fortunately, you are usually allowed to change an assigned password to something a little less esoteric than the above-mentioned xhk1033pq. Before you get too excited, it should come as no surprise that there is a catch. The catch is that you must create a password that you can remember but that isn’t too obvious to the rest of the world. This brings us to the Goldi-Locks method of choosing a password.
The premise behind the Goldi-Locks method is that your password can’t be too hard and it can’t be too easy. It has to be just right. Luckily, some electronics, such as computers, assist you in this endeavor. They give you parameters, such as the length of the password and the inclusion of numbers as well as the use of a capital letter. As if that weren’t enough, they also sometimes rate your password as to its ease or difficulty. This I don’t appreciate. If, for example, I create a password for my bank account that I can remember but that other people might easily figure out (and then steal all my money), the password will receive a low rating. If, however, I create a password that receives a high rating of difficulty, so that no one will figure it out, then you can bet your bottom-dollar that I probably won’t remember it either. Based on this, it seems I might as well just donate all my money to the nearest charity since, either way, I’ll probably never see it again.
Now choosing one’s own password does have some merit, in that it allows you to synchronize your passwords for your various accounts. What throws me off is the often-imposed requirement to change my passwords on a regular basis for security purposes. Unfortunately, the intervals differ depending on the account I am using. So even if I change my password by only one number, I still have to remember which password I changed and which ones I didn’t change. Once again, the only one whom it is “secure from” is me.
This got me thinking that maybe it’s not the password that needs to be so difficult. Instead, perhaps, it’s the security questions that really need to be beefed up – you know, the ones that are asked prior to signing up for an account. I mean, some of their questions are ridiculously easy. For example, an all-time favorite of mine is “What’s your mother’s maiden name?” Really? Anyone with an ounce of hacker experience could find out that information since many people post their family tree online. Or perhaps the one, “What street did you live on as a child?” My answer to that – though I don’t think this is what they are looking for – is, “the same one my parents still live on, and if you’d like, you can follow me there when I go to visit them next week.”
Personally, I think they should employ mothers to create the security questions. For example, a question that is unanswerable to every member of one’s immediate family is “Where’s the mayonnaise?” Let’s face it: You could have everyone march into the kitchen, and not one person actually thinks to move anything around in the refrigerator in order to find the mayonnaise. This is despite the fact that it has a bright blue lid. Another hacker-proof question could be, “Where is your son’s left Shabbos shoe?” (which, coincidentally, was next to the right Shabbos shoe before it was removed from his foot). Finally, the coup de grace: “Which days do you drive carpool?” Don’t worry, they don’t all have to be this difficult.
Now, not all electronics require a password. I do appreciate that cell phones offer the swipe option to those of us who are “password challenged.” Let me just warn you, though, that unlike the mayonnaise mystery, children are quite adept at discovering the swipe-pattern on your phone. You see, many an early-childhood experience directly involved using their cute little fingers to explore the world. Some of these were positive experiences, like finger painting. Others were not so positive experiences, like finger painting on the walls, which just resulted in the child being scolded. As children get older, they realize that it’s not really fair that adults can purposely get their fingerprints all over their phones and not get in trouble. This is when you have to be alert. You see, all a child has to do is get a hold of your freshly swiped phone and you’re in trouble. A quick analysis of the “shmear” that your fingerprints left behind is all it takes for them to hack their way in.
One way to counteract this form of terrorism is to remove your imprint by randomly swiping your finger around your screen after opening the phone. Of course, if you have the same kind of luck that I do, you might inadvertently change the language on your phone to Japanese or, even better, delete all the little icons that used to greet you every time you opened your phone. This of course leaves you in the uncomfortable position of having to ask your children to restore your phone to its original language or display mode.
Finding a solution to the proliferation of passwords is possible but not probable. In fact, it seems that the more secretive the world becomes, the greater the temptation intruders have to unlock any and every code. Instead of wistfully looking back to those unlocked doors of yesteryear, I feel we can put this generation’s hacker experience to good use, specifically in the area of education. Here’s how it would work: From now on, all text books should come with a code. To ensure that our children will do their homework, all book reports will be encrypted. Homework will only be accessible to those who have completed the FBI training course in cyber security. The classroom will be transformed into a sophisticated game of hide-and-seek, making knowledge the proverbial pot of gold.
The only thing we have to worry about is making sure our kids don’t get hired to create the previously mentioned security questions. I’m sure one of them would be, “How much do you charge your parents every time they delete all the information on their phone?” Personally, I think 10 dollars is a fair price, but feel to send in your opinion. Just make sure
