Book Review: The Business of Secrets

Nov. 13th, 2025 12:09 pm
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Posted by Bruce Schneier

The Business of Secrets: Adventures in Selling Encryption Around the World by Fred Kinch (May 24, 2004)

From the vantage point of today, it’s surreal reading about the commercial cryptography business in the 1970s. Nobody knew anything. The manufacturers didn’t know whether the cryptography they sold was any good. The customers didn’t know whether the crypto they bought was any good. Everyone pretended to know, thought they knew, or knew better than to even try to know.

The Business of Secrets is the self-published memoirs of Fred Kinch. He was founder and vice president of—mostly sales—at a US cryptographic hardware company called Datotek, from company’s founding in 1969 until 1982. It’s mostly a disjointed collection of stories about the difficulties of selling to governments worldwide, along with descriptions of the highs and (mostly) lows of foreign airlines, foreign hotels, and foreign travel in general. But it’s also about encryption.

Datotek sold cryptographic equipment in the era after rotor machines and before modern academic cryptography. The company initially marketed computer-file encryption, but pivoted o link encryption – low-speed data, voice, fax – because that’s what the market wanted.

These were the years where the NSA hired anyone promising in the field, and routinely classified – and thereby blocked – publication of academic mathematics papers of those they didn’t hire. They controlled the fielding of strong cryptography by aggressively using the International Traffic in Arms regulation. Kinch talks about the difficulties in getting an expert license for Datotek’s products; he didn’t know that the only reason he ever got that license was because the NSA was able to break his company’s stuff. He had no idea that his largest competitor, the Swiss company Crypto AG, was owned and controlled by the CIA and its West German equivalent. “Wouldn’t that have made our life easier if we had known that back in the 1970s?” Yes, it would. But no one knew.

Glimmers of the clandestine world peek out of the book. Countries like France ask detailed tech questions, borrow or buy a couple of units for “evaluation,” and then disappear again. Did they break the encryption? Did they just want to see what their adversaries were using? No one at Datotek knew.

Kinch “carried the key generator logic diagrams and schematics” with him – even today it’s good practice not to rely on their secrecy for security—but the details seem laughably insecure: four linear shift registers of 29, 23, 13, and 7 bits, variable stepping, and a small nonlinear final transformation. The NSA probably used this as a challenge to its new hires. But Datotek didn’t know that, at the time.

Kinch writes: “The strength of the cryptography had to be accepted on trust and only on trust.” Yes, but it’s so, so weird to read about it in practice. Kinch demonstrated the security of his telephone encryptors by hooking a pair of them up and having people listen to the encrypted voice. It’s rather like demonstrating the safety of a food additive by showing that someone doesn’t immediately fall over dead after eating it. (In one absolutely bizarre anecdote, an Argentine sergeant with a “hearing defect” could understand the scrambled analog voice. Datotek fixed its security, but only offered the upgrade to the Argentines, because no one else complained. As I said, no one knew anything.)

In his postscript, he writes that even if the NSA could break Datotek’s products, they were “vastly superior to what [his customers] had used previously.” Given that the previous devices were electromechanical rotor machines, and that his primary competition was a CIA-run operation, he’s probably right. But even today, we know nothing about any other country’s cryptanalytic capabilities during those decades.

A lot of this book has a “you had to be there” vibe. And it’s mostly tone-deaf. There is no real acknowledgment of the human-rights-abusing countries on Datotek’s customer list, and how their products might have assisted those governments. But it’s a fascinating artifact of an era before commercial cryptography went mainstream, before academic cryptography became approved for US classified data, before those of us outside the triple fences of the NSA understood the mathematics of cryptography.

This book review originally appeared in AFIO.

[syndicated profile] markov_stoats_feed
stoats!

Day 4448. There are 352 red stoats, 177 blue stoats, and 471 green stoats.

More evidence of causation

Nov. 13th, 2025 07:20 pm
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[personal profile] fred_mouse

a follow up to my october 14th post, where I reported having forgotten all my morning meds. I have, in the interim, been prescribed a new medication that has to be taken half an hour before breakfast, and also worked out that if I put all but one medication on the bedside table, I can take them when I first wake. Which has the added advantage of meaning that the paracetamol has kicked in by the time I try and get out of bed, and lo! but it is easier to get out of bed.

Sadly, the one that can't be taken at that point -- because it has to be taken after eating -- is the anti-inflammatory. And today, I gave up and came home after lunch, because making it to 2pm when the next paracetamol was due was too much (I actually took said paracetamol at 1pm, which is the absolute earliest it was allowed, on the 6 hour interval, which meant it kicked in enough for the drive home to be possible). And found the anti-inflammatory still in its little bowl, waiting to be taken. Which might mean I also forgot my asthma preventer, which might also be associated with my chest being a little unhappy (also, I have some kind of reaction to being in a specific room in the library -- the last two times I've developed one of those biting coughs)

Which says that the anti-inflammatory is doing amazing things, and I'm going to keep taking it. Sadly, the new med is because it is possible that some of the other symptoms are a side effect of taking it daily, rather than the 'max 5 days in 7' I was allowed with the stronger dose (that was once daily, the lower dose is twice daily).

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[personal profile] merrileemakes posting in [community profile] booknook

Buzzing
Written by Samuel Sattin with art by Rye Hickman

Description
A moving middle grade graphic novel about friendship, belonging, and learning to love yourself despite the voices in your head.

Isaac Itkin can't get away from his thoughts.

As a lonely twelve-year-old kid with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD), everything from studying to looking in the mirror becomes a battle between him and a swarm of unhelpful thoughts.

The strict therapy his mother insists on doesn't seem to be working, but when a group of friends invites him to join their after-school role-playing game, the thoughts feel a little less loud, and the world feels a little brighter.

But Isaac's therapist says that exposure to games can have negative effects on kids with OCD, and when his grades slip, his helicopter mother won't let him play anymore. Now Isaac needs to find a way to prove to himself, to his mother, and to the world that the way to quiet the noise in his head may have been inside him all along.

Review
This book has the best depiction of intrusive thoughts I've ever seen. Issac's OCD is represented by cartoon bees that swarm his head, saying awful (and often repetitive things). The bees can become fewer in number when Isaac is interested in something and if something (or someone!) is really engaging they can disappear completely. Or if things are going badly, they can swarm Isaac and drown out almost everything else.

Isaac's friends are a great comfort to him and he's most animated and engaged when he's with them. In contrast, he shuts down when he's with his overbearing mother and hateful sister. The art does an amazing job of reflecting it, with the colour literally leeching from the panels when Isaac's family are present. As someone who grew up with a mental illness in a shitful Family of Origin, this all feels so real and believeable. The mother especially is a hall-mark 'doing my best' but actually ignores the emotional needs of both her children, constantly criticises them and has a sour comment for every interaction.

Unfortunately its this strong identify I have with Isaac that makes the ending fall really flat for me.
Spoilers hereAfter spending half the book despising Isaac, his sister suddenly decides to help him connect with his friends after his mother bans him from hanging out with them. And then at the end the mother puts aside her over-bearing self-absorbtion and starts taking an interest in Isaac and his hobbies, letting him hang out with his friends again and is generally a totally different person.
If you've ever dealt with schemas in Family of Origin you'll know that those roles don't just get thrown aside on a whim. So... I didn't like the ending. But it's a middle grade book. Isaac growing up, moving out, finally getting therapy and going no contact was not an option. Shame though, because I would read the hell out of that.
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[personal profile] tamaranth
2025/181: Murder Most Foul — Guy Jenkin
Even in Deptford, you can’t carry bodies far in daylight... [loc. 1402]

In which William Shakespeare is suspected of the murder of Christopher Marlowe, and makes common cause with Marlowe's sister Ann (formerly Will's lover) to find out who really killed Marlowe, and why. Well-researched, witty historical whodunnit with a credible denouement and some excellent dialogue (Jenkin is an award-winning scriptwriter) and lots of period detail. Also, set in my neck of the woods...

The premise sounded excellent, but didn't quite ring true for me.Read more... )

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[personal profile] sovay
In news of the day that was not technological balls, [personal profile] spatch let me know that despite the best efforts of the American federal government, the tradition of the Christmas tree gifted by the province of Nova Scotia to the city of Boston in recognition of its aid after the Halifax Explosion continues. We had worried. Apparently so had Mayor Wu, who made a point of traveling for the first time in the tradition's history to the tree-cutting ceremony and taking part in it herself. Fingers crossed for the tree-lighting, whose centenary we wandered into in 2017 and wandered out again wondering why no one was singing Stan Rogers. Today was also the fifty-fifth anniversary of the exploding whale.

Just One Thing (13 November 2025)

Nov. 13th, 2025 06:39 am
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[personal profile] nanila posting in [community profile] awesomeers
It's challenge time!

Comment with Just One Thing you've accomplished in the last 24 hours or so. It doesn't have to be a hard thing, or even a thing that you think is particularly awesome. Just a thing that you did.

Feel free to share more than one thing if you're feeling particularly accomplished! Extra credit: find someone in the comments and give them props for what they achieved!

Nothing is too big, too small, too strange or too cryptic. And in case you'd rather do this in private, anonymous comments are screened. I will only unscreen if you ask me to.

Go!
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[personal profile] yhlee
https://www.scottedelman.com/wordpress/2025/11/12/a-dream-denied/

On August 12, 1971, my 16-year-old self mailed the first story I ever wrote off on its first submission. The publication I hoped would buy that story, my dream market, was The Magazine of Fantasy & Science Fiction.

[...]

...earlier this week, after what by my count were 23 back and forth emails between me and the new owners of F&SF as I attempted to transform that initial boilerplate contract into something acceptable, I had no choice other than to walk away from my dream.

Let me explain why.

But before I do, I want to preface this by making it clear I have nothing but good things to say about editor Sheree Renée Thomas. Her words of praise as she accepted this story moved me greatly, and her perceptive comments and suggested tweaks ably demonstrated her strengths as an editor. It breaks my heart to disappoint her by pulling a story which was intended to appear in the next issue of F&SF. But, alas, I must.


Short version: Must Read Magazines offers garbage contracts. I'm not in contracts or law, but I started in sf/f short stories 20+ years ago and IMO Edelman correctly refused to sign.

Based on this account and others, I would not go near Must Read Magazines (or F&SF, Asimov's, Analog under their current ownership) with a 200-foot anaconda, let alone a 20-foot pole.

Дякую (13 November 2025)

Nov. 13th, 2025 02:59 pm
matsushima: you try and show me shallow pools but I've seen oceans (black skies)
[personal profile] matsushima posting in [community profile] thankfulthursday
What are you thankful for this week?
· Photos are optional but encouraged.
· Check-ins remain open until the following week's post is shared.
· Do feel free to comment on others' check-ins but don't harsh anyone else's squee.

Sorry I missed last week! My day job got in the way.

Overcast Autumn

Nov. 12th, 2025 07:16 pm
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[personal profile] lovelyangel
Japanese Maple Under Gray Skies
Japanese Maple Under Gray Skies
Strolling Pond Garden • Portland Japanese Garden • Portland, Oregon
October 30, 2025
Nikon Z8 • NIKKOR Z 24-120mm f/4 S
f/8 @ 33mm • 1/500s • ISO 1600

The weather forecast for Wednesday, October 29 was sunshine, and I really, really wanted to go to the Portland Japanese Garden to get photographs of the trees in autumn glory. The red and orange leaves are aglow when backlit by the sun, and this was the perfect opportunity.

The only schedule conflict was the contractors coming to bring me the extra bookshelves I had ordered. They were scheduled to come at 10:00 am, and I figured they’d be no more than 30 minutes. Easy.

Unfortunately, that morning I received a text from my interior designer saying the contractors were delayed and would arrive between 11:00 am and 11:30 am. OK. That wasn’t great, but I could still get to the gardens by noon or 12:30 pm.

I was dismayed when the contractor did not arrive until 1:30 pm, and they departed at 2:00 pm. I could maybe get to the gardens by 2:45 pm. I know that the trees and the west hills begin blocking the sun much earlier than sunset. Basically, I had to cancel the attempt to get photos. I was pretty disappointed as sunshine during fall colors is uncommon in Oregon. Also, I knew the forecast was for overcast skies on Thursday.

Thursday, With Cloudy Skies )

(no subject)

Nov. 12th, 2025 07:47 pm
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[personal profile] landofnowhere
We submitted the revised paper last week, and now I'm back to reading more!

Poems and Ballads of Heinrich Heine", translated by Emma Lazarus. I've been curious about Heine for a while, and last week I was looking up what Emma Lazarus did other than write The New Colossus, and found that she'd translated these, so I thought I'd try them. I'm sure these are better in the original, but they're never boring. The one that jumped out at me was his version of Tannhauser", which is basically a Fairy Queen ballad, and therefore the translation into a ballad with somewhat antiquated language worked pretty well for me. But then there's a weird tonal shift at the end where it becomes a European/German travelogue, and Lazarus skips over a bunch of verses.

Love's Labor's Lost, William Shakespeare. Readaloud. Not the first time I've read this aloud, but I feel like this play is growing on me. Why don't people perform it more? This time I took the part of the Princess, which is a great role with some particularly fun lines. In comparison with the ending of A Midsummer Night's Dream, I appreciate that after the men have fun mocking the lower-class performers, the women follow it up by telling them to grow up, rather than fading into the background. (Also I noticed the parallels with Tennyson's The Princess / Gilbert & Sullivan's Princess Ida, only with genders swapped.)

The Rise of a Star, Edith Ayrton Zangwill. Scanned by [personal profile] kurowasan, not yet ready for Distributed Proofreaders, but eventually this will make it to Project Gutenberg! This is probably the most conventional plot of Edith Ayrton Zangwill's novels, and also the one with the most satisfying ending (and where the protagonist ends up with the most appealing guy). You can more or less guess the plot and where it ends up from the title, though I was expecting it to be about Hollywood, but Joan, our titular star stays on the stage, not on the screen. It also starts at an unusual point, when Joan's grandmother is forced to leave the stage just as her career is taking off, so that her daughter (Joan's mother) can marry a wealthy capitalist who detests the theater. This leads to a slow start, and overall there is not as much backstage theatre hijinks as I'd hoped. But the plot tension does ramp up, because while we know where Joan will end up, we don't know how or at what cost.
(As typical for Zangwill, there are some racial slurs used but no named characters of color.)

Mona Maclean, Medical Student, Graham Travers (a pseudonym for Margaret Todd. At the end of The Rise of a Star there's a bunch of quotes from reviews of Edith Ayrton Zangwill's earlier books, including one which said that she'd written the best lady medical student/scientist character since Mona Maclean. So then I had to look up this 1892 novel, written by an actual woman medical student and future doctor (though she kept up her writing career). This is generally charming, and I'll have more to say about it after I've finished, but I'm glad I read the Goodreads reviews first, because there is much less medical school in this book than you'd guess from the title. Instead the book starts when our protagonist, in despair after failing her exams for the second time, impulsively decides to agree to take six months away from school to live in a small Scottish village with a cousin she's never met from the less-respectable side of the family, which turns out to be an even worse idea than all her friends tell her it will be, but gives her a chance for self-reflection and personal growth.

Stourbridge

Nov. 12th, 2025 11:47 pm
loganberrybunny: Drawing of my lapine character's face by Eliki (Default)
[personal profile] loganberrybunny
Public


285/365: Stourbridge subway entrance
Click for a larger, sharper image

I was in Stourbridge today for boring reasons, and it was a pretty dire day too, with heavy rain in the morning giving way to light rain later on. It was really quite dark even at three o'clock. There's not a whole lot that's photogenic in Stourbridge in the rain, so here's the rather nice sign that's over the subway (UK sense) to the bus and rail stations. It's been there quite a few years now, but I can't remember exactly how long.
[syndicated profile] wwdn_feed

Posted by Wil

There is a massive winter storm barreling toward us right now, expected to arrive in the next 18 or so hours. Yesterday, it was unseasonably warm and stupidly beautiful. Today, it’s eerily calm, under grey skies. The air is so still, it carries the train whistles from all the way across the valley, and every lawnmower in town sounds like it’s next door. You walk outside, and everything just says, soon.1 Even the corvids and squirrels seem reluctant to come out of the trees, It never rains in Southern California, man. It pours.

This past weekend, though, it was great, and I was grateful for it.

Last Friday, Anne and I celebrated our 26th wedding anniversary. We have both been so busy and overwhelmed for so long, we planned to skip our usual weekend getaway and just go out for a really fancy dinner, instead. So we went to Mozza in Hollywood, where I think Anne discovered that pasta can actually be wonderful and not what her husband struggles to assemble in our kitchen.

We had such a wonderful meal, and such a nice time out, on a Friday night like PEOPLE WHO GO OUT TO DO THINGS! And that would have been enough, but about two weeks ago, Anne said that she was really missing our usual weekend away, and how did I feel about using points to go somewhere close? I admitted that I, too, was feeling sad we weren’t going to have two days of absolutely nothing but Us. Funny how we both really wanted to do this together, but kept talking ourselves out of it because we’d agreed together that we would.

Anyway, she found a place, cashed in some points, and we spent the weekend up in Santa Barbara. It was nothing but long walks, petting dogs, eating incredible food, and prioritizing each other, our relationship, our friendship, and our marriage. Each of us truly is married to our best friend, and even after 26 years (30+ total), we still have all kinds of fun goofing off together. We have consistently done the hard work of being married and being a family, and that investment pays off at like fifty million percent all the time.

It’s just like … it’s such a blessing and so awesome to spend our lives together, and be mom and dad to our kids. We have worked really hard for a good life, and I’m grateful that I’ve worked so hard to heal my PTSD, so I can actually enjoy living it.

And now…

This week’s story dropped earlier today! It is Dissembling Light, by Kel Coleman. It originally appeared in Beneath Ceaseless Skies issue 385.

This is a magical story (meaning that Magic features prominently in the narrative) about a man who holds tremendous knowledge and skill in his heart, and the hopeful apprentice who comes to learn from him. It also makes me wonder what good is knowledge, if its holder doesn’t freely share it?

You can get It’s Storytime With Wil Wheaton wherever you get your podcasts. Here’s some links to the more popular services:

You can also support the show on Patreon, where you’ll get the show with no ads, as well as some spiffy extras that all the cool kids are into these days.

Today, I recorded two episodes. One of the things we did is the most beautiful, heartbreaking, I-need-a-minute-to-compose-myself story I have read in a long, long time. I’m so excited for you to hear it. It’s also the source of the show’s first official blooper, where you will get to hear me use all my, uh, colorful metaphors in rather creative ways.

I would absolutely love to hear your feedback on the show, if you’re a listener. I feel like we’re doing good work, and putting good art into the world, but I have no idea what the audience thinks if I don’t ask, because we aren’t exactly in a theater together. Although, if I can figure out how to stage one of these stories, I’m into seeing what that would look and sound like. Maybe something cool is there, way off in the mysterious future.

  1. Unfortunately, it’s not the soon we are all waiting for ↩
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[personal profile] landingtree
Dark Reflections, by Samuel Delany.

Realist novel about the life of someone with many of Delany's own marked identity traits - black gay writer in New York before and after Stonewall - who is deeply unlike Delany in various ways, most notably: his writing career remains largely unrecognised, and he is ill at ease with his own sexuality. Interesting project, kind of makes me want to go off and compare Delany's favourite writers with the ones Andrew, the protagonist, likes - not going to be a favourite of mine but I like being inside Delany's writing.


The Merlin Conspiracy, by Diana Wynne Jones.

Every so often over the years I’ve remembered that there is one Diana Wynne Jones novel I never read (not counting The Changeover.) I’m not sure why I didn’t get around to it, except for a vague sense of lack of hype. But it does mean that now I’ve had the treat of reading one last Jones novel as an adult whose plot I did not know! Also not a favourite but I enjoyed it a lot and made guesses about the plot that were totally wrong (see under the cut.)

It never occurred to me that this book might be a thriller, and it mostly isn’t, but I did think the early sequence in the magic security detail of a prince attending a cricket match, combined with the appearance of super-badass Romanov, was the book waving at other ‘The proper noun common noun’ titles.)

It feels weird to be reading this last, like putting a puzzle piece into a jigsaw without having known there was a piece missing. Partly this is listening to Eight Days of Diana Wynne Jones (and I read this now partly so as to have thought about it well in advance of the podcast getting to it), partly it's having read all the other late DWJ: it feels close to Year of the Griffin, having a dyslexic character whose magic is backwards, and a broader point to make about how a particular system of education in wizard’s magic gives access to only a tiny blinkered subset of magic's real possibilities - and also they're both structured around a sequence of striking people showing up. The book starts out in the retinue of the King of Blest (very nearly Britain), which constantly travels the country to maintain its magics. And in fact it is a book about touring Blest to maintain its magics, although not quite in the way the retinue is supposed to.

Spoilers )


Peregrine: Primus by Avram Davidson.

Read this, preferably aloud, for wit and flowing language and classics jokes. Do not read it for plot or character or women doing things. It is a pure picaresque, pleased with its own prose style (and with some reason to be.) I found two-thirds of this book boring, was delighted by the middle third mainly because that was the bit I read aloud to myself and was in the mood for, and on the balance of all this, am selling my copy, having kept it around unread for more than ten years because Michael Swanwick put it on a list of recommendations.


Currently reading:

I'm halfway through the sweet collection of letters between a group of booksellers and an overseas customer who they become friends with, 84 Charing Cross Road. It is very short and I will finish it this week.

I am also halfway through The Power Broker, the Robert Moses biography, but that is a very different halfway through! I will probably post about it at more length at some point, it is very good, but I've got to the point where I need to take a break, because Robert Moses was in many ways not a wonderful force in the world to begin with but I think I'm at the pivot-point where the last of his redeeming features evaporate, and I need to take a deep breath first. (For a big chunk of the book, he is very good at getting things done, in situations where things desperately need to get done. But now he has reached the point where he's too powerful for anyone to stop him and also too busy to check whether the things he's doing are actually good; but of course they're good! He's the one doing them! Gosh I hate Robert Moses.) For several weeks I have been responding to almost entirely unrelated bits of conversation with, "This reminds me of something I learned about Robert Moses, a man I hate," so like I said, deep breath.