Entries Tagged "trust"

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AI Agents Need Data Integrity

Think of the Web as a digital territory with its own social contract. In 2014, Tim Berners-Lee called for a “Magna Carta for the Web” to restore the balance of power between individuals and institutions. This mirrors the original charter’s purpose: ensuring that those who occupy a territory have a meaningful stake in its governance.

Web 3.0—the distributed, decentralized Web of tomorrow—is finally poised to change the Internet’s dynamic by returning ownership to data creators. This will change many things about what’s often described as the “CIA triad” of digital security: confidentiality, integrity, and availability. Of those three features, data integrity will become of paramount importance.

When we have agency in digital spaces, we naturally maintain their integrity—protecting them from deterioration and shaping them with intention. But in territories controlled by distant platforms, where we’re merely temporary visitors, that connection frays. A disconnect emerges between those who benefit from data and those who bear the consequences of compromised integrity. Like homeowners who care deeply about maintaining the property they own, users in the Web 3.0 paradigm will become stewards of their personal digital spaces.

This will be critical in a world where AI agents don’t just answer our questions but act on our behalf. These agents may execute financial transactions, coordinate complex workflows, and autonomously operate critical infrastructure, making decisions that ripple through entire industries. As digital agents become more autonomous and interconnected, the question is no longer whether we will trust AI but what that trust is built upon. In the new age we’re entering, the foundation isn’t intelligence or efficiency—it’s integrity.

What Is Data Integrity?

In information systems, integrity is the guarantee that data will not be modified without authorization, and that all transformations are verifiable throughout the data’s life cycle. While availability ensures that systems are running and confidentiality prevents unauthorized access, integrity focuses on whether information is accurate, unaltered, and consistent across systems and over time.

It’s a new idea. The undo button, which prevents accidental data loss, is an integrity feature. So is the reboot process, which returns a computer to a known good state. Checksums are an integrity feature; so are verifications of network transmission. Without integrity, security measures can backfire. Encrypting corrupted data just locks in errors. Systems that score high marks for availability but spread misinformation just become amplifiers of risk.

All IT systems require some form of data integrity, but the need for it is especially pronounced in two areas today. First: Internet of Things devices interact directly with the physical world, so corrupted input or output can result in real-world harm. Second: AI systems are only as good as the integrity of the data they’re trained on, and the integrity of their decision-making processes. If that foundation is shaky, the results will be too.

Integrity manifests in four key areas. The first, input integrity, concerns the quality and authenticity of data entering a system. When this fails, consequences can be severe. In 2021, Facebook’s global outage was triggered by a single mistaken command—an input error missed by automated systems. Protecting input integrity requires robust authentication of data sources, cryptographic signing of sensor data, and diversity in input channels for cross-validation.

The second issue is processing integrity, which ensures that systems transform inputs into outputs correctly. In 2003, the U.S.-Canada blackout affected 55 million people when a control-room process failed to refresh properly, resulting in damages exceeding US $6 billion. Safeguarding processing integrity means formally verifying algorithms, cryptographically protecting models, and monitoring systems for anomalous behavior.

Storage integrity covers the correctness of information as it’s stored and communicated. In 2023, the Federal Aviation Administration was forced to halt all U.S. departing flights because of a corrupted database file. Addressing this risk requires cryptographic approaches that make any modification computationally infeasible without detection, distributed storage systems to prevent single points of failure, and rigorous backup procedures.

Finally, contextual integrity addresses the appropriate flow of information according to the norms of its larger context. It’s not enough for data to be accurate; it must also be used in ways that respect expectations and boundaries. For example, if a smart speaker listens in on casual family conversations and uses the data to build advertising profiles, that action would violate the expected boundaries of data collection. Preserving contextual integrity requires clear data-governance policies, principles that limit the use of data to its intended purposes, and mechanisms for enforcing information-flow constraints.

As AI systems increasingly make critical decisions with reduced human oversight, all these dimensions of integrity become critical.

The Need for Integrity in Web 3.0

As the digital landscape has shifted from Web 1.0 to Web 2.0 and now evolves toward Web 3.0, we’ve seen each era bring a different emphasis in the CIA triad of confidentiality, integrity, and availability.

Returning to our home metaphor: When simply having shelter is what matters most, availability takes priority—the house must exist and be functional. Once that foundation is secure, confidentiality becomes important—you need locks on your doors to keep others out. Only after these basics are established do you begin to consider integrity, to ensure that what’s inside the house remains trustworthy, unaltered, and consistent over time.

Web 1.0 of the 1990s prioritized making information available. Organizations digitized their content, putting it out there for anyone to access. In Web 2.0, the Web of today, platforms for e-commerce, social media, and cloud computing prioritize confidentiality, as personal data has become the Internet’s currency.

Somehow, integrity was largely lost along the way. In our current Web architecture, where control is centralized and removed from individual users, the concern for integrity has diminished. The massive social media platforms have created environments where no one feels responsible for the truthfulness or quality of what circulates.

Web 3.0 is poised to change this dynamic by returning ownership to the data owners. This is not speculative; it’s already emerging. For example, ActivityPub, the protocol behind decentralized social networks like Mastodon, combines content sharing with built-in attribution. Tim Berners-Lee’s Solid protocol restructures the Web around personal data pods with granular access controls.

These technologies prioritize integrity through cryptographic verification that proves authorship, decentralized architectures that eliminate vulnerable central authorities, machine-readable semantics that make meaning explicit—structured data formats that allow computers to understand participants and actions, such as “Alice performed surgery on Bob”—and transparent governance where rules are visible to all. As AI systems become more autonomous, communicating directly with one another via standardized protocols, these integrity controls will be essential for maintaining trust.

Why Data Integrity Matters in AI

For AI systems, integrity is crucial in four domains. The first is decision quality. With AI increasingly contributing to decision-making in health care, justice, and finance, the integrity of both data and models’ actions directly impact human welfare. Accountability is the second domain. Understanding the causes of failures requires reliable logging, audit trails, and system records.

The third domain is the security relationships between components. Many authentication systems rely on the integrity of identity information and cryptographic keys. If these elements are compromised, malicious agents could impersonate trusted systems, potentially creating cascading failures as AI agents interact and make decisions based on corrupted credentials.

Finally, integrity matters in our public definitions of safety. Governments worldwide are introducing rules for AI that focus on data accuracy, transparent algorithms, and verifiable claims about system behavior. Integrity provides the basis for meeting these legal obligations.

The importance of integrity only grows as AI systems are entrusted with more critical applications and operate with less human oversight. While people can sometimes detect integrity lapses, autonomous systems may not only miss warning signs—they may exponentially increase the severity of breaches. Without assurances of integrity, organizations will not trust AI systems for important tasks, and we won’t realize the full potential of AI.

How to Build AI Systems With Integrity

Imagine an AI system as a home we’re building together. The integrity of this home doesn’t rest on a single security feature but on the thoughtful integration of many elements: solid foundations, well-constructed walls, clear pathways between rooms, and shared agreements about how spaces will be used.

We begin by laying the cornerstone: cryptographic verification. Digital signatures ensure that data lineage is traceable, much like a title deed proves ownership. Decentralized identifiers act as digital passports, allowing components to prove identity independently. When the front door of our AI home recognizes visitors through their own keys rather than through a vulnerable central doorman, we create resilience in the architecture of trust.

Formal verification methods enable us to mathematically prove the structural integrity of critical components, ensuring that systems can withstand pressures placed upon them—especially in high-stakes domains where lives may depend on an AI’s decision.

Just as a well-designed home creates separate spaces, trustworthy AI systems are built with thoughtful compartmentalization. We don’t rely on a single barrier but rather layer them to limit how problems in one area might affect others. Just as a kitchen fire is contained by fire doors and independent smoke alarms, training data is separated from the AI’s inferences and output to limit the impact of any single failure or breach.

Throughout this AI home, we build transparency into the design: The equivalent of large windows that allow light into every corner is clear pathways from input to output. We install monitoring systems that continuously check for weaknesses, alerting us before small issues become catastrophic failures.

But a home isn’t just a physical structure, it’s also the agreements we make about how to live within it. Our governance frameworks act as these shared understandings. Before welcoming new residents, we provide them with certification standards. Just as landlords conduct credit checks, we conduct integrity assessments to evaluate newcomers. And we strive to be good neighbors, aligning our community agreements with broader societal expectations. Perhaps most important, we recognize that our AI home will shelter diverse individuals with varying needs. Our governance structures must reflect this diversity, bringing many stakeholders to the table. A truly trustworthy system cannot be designed only for its builders but must serve anyone authorized to eventually call it home.

That’s how we’ll create AI systems worthy of trust: not by blindly believing in their perfection but because we’ve intentionally designed them with integrity controls at every level.

A Challenge of Language

Unlike other properties of security, like “available” or “private,” we don’t have a common adjective form for “integrity.” This makes it hard to talk about it. It turns out that there is a word in English: “integrous.” The Oxford English Dictionary recorded the word used in the mid-1600s but now declares it obsolete.

We believe that the word needs to be revived. We need the ability to describe a system with integrity. We must be able to talk about integrous systems design.

The Road Ahead

Ensuring integrity in AI presents formidable challenges. As models grow larger and more complex, maintaining integrity without sacrificing performance becomes difficult. Integrity controls often require computational resources that can slow systems down—particularly challenging for real-time applications. Another concern is that emerging technologies like quantum computing threaten current cryptographic protections. Additionally, the distributed nature of modern AI—which relies on vast ecosystems of libraries, frameworks, and services—presents a large attack surface.

Beyond technology, integrity depends heavily on social factors. Companies often prioritize speed to market over robust integrity controls. Development teams may lack specialized knowledge for implementing these controls, and may find it particularly difficult to integrate them into legacy systems. And while some governments have begun establishing regulations for aspects of AI, we need worldwide alignment on governance for AI integrity.

Addressing these challenges requires sustained research into verifying and enforcing integrity, as well as recovering from breaches. Priority areas include fault-tolerant algorithms for distributed learning, verifiable computation on encrypted data, techniques that maintain integrity despite adversarial attacks, and standardized metrics for certification. We also need interfaces that clearly communicate integrity status to human overseers.

As AI systems become more powerful and pervasive, the stakes for integrity have never been higher. We are entering an era where machine-to-machine interactions and autonomous agents will operate with reduced human oversight and make decisions with profound impacts.

The good news is that the tools for building systems with integrity already exist. What’s needed is a shift in mind-set: from treating integrity as an afterthought to accepting that it’s the core organizing principle of AI security.

The next era of technology will be defined not by what AI can do, but by whether we can trust it to know or especially to do what’s right. Integrity—in all its dimensions—will determine the answer.

Sidebar: Examples of Integrity Failures

Ariane 5 Rocket (1996)
Processing integrity failure
A 64-bit velocity calculation was converted to a 16-bit output, causing an error called overflow. The corrupted data triggered catastrophic course corrections that forced the US $370 million rocket to self-destruct.

NASA Mars Climate Orbiter (1999)
Processing integrity failure
Lockheed Martin’s software calculated thrust in pound-seconds, while NASA’s navigation software expected newton-seconds. The failure caused the $328 million spacecraft to burn up in the Mars atmosphere.

Microsoft’s Tay Chatbot (2016)
Processing integrity failure
Released on Twitter, Microsoft‘s AI chatbot was vulnerable to a “repeat after me” command, which meant it would echo any offensive content fed to it.

Boeing 737 MAX (2018)
Input integrity failure
Faulty sensor data caused an automated flight-control system to repeatedly push the airplane’s nose down, leading to a fatal crash.

SolarWinds Supply-Chain Attack (2020)
Storage integrity failure
Russian hackers compromised the process that SolarWinds used to package its software, injecting malicious code that was distributed to 18,000 customers, including nine federal agencies. The hack remained undetected for 14 months.

ChatGPT Data Leak (2023)
Storage integrity failure
A bug in OpenAI’s ChatGPT mixed different users’ conversation histories. Users suddenly had other people’s chats appear in their interfaces with no way to prove the conversations weren’t theirs.

Midjourney Bias (2023)
Contextual integrity failure
Users discovered that the AI image generator often produced biased images of people, such as showing white men as CEOs regardless of the prompt. The AI tool didn’t accurately reflect the context requested by the users.

Prompt Injection Attacks (2023–)
Input integrity failure
Attackers embedded hidden prompts in emails, documents, and websites that hijacked AI assistants, causing them to treat malicious instructions as legitimate commands.

CrowdStrike  Outage (2024)
Processing integrity failure
A faulty software update from CrowdStrike caused 8.5 million Windows computers worldwide to crash—grounding flights, shutting down hospitals, and disrupting banks. The update, which contained a software logic error, hadn’t gone through full testing protocols.

Voice-Clone Scams (2024)
Input and processing integrity failure
Scammers used AI-powered voice-cloning tools to mimic the voices of victims’ family members, tricking people into sending money. These scams succeeded because neither phone systems nor victims identified the AI-generated voice as fake.

This essay was written with Davi Ottenheimer, and originally appeared in IEEE Spectrum.

Posted on August 22, 2025 at 7:04 AM • View Comments

Subliminal Learning in AIs

Today’s freaky LLM behavior:

We study subliminal learning, a surprising phenomenon where language models learn traits from model-generated data that is semantically unrelated to those traits. For example, a “student” model learns to prefer owls when trained on sequences of numbers generated by a “teacher” model that prefers owls. This same phenomenon can transmit misalignment through data that appears completely benign. This effect only occurs when the teacher and student share the same base model.

Interesting security implications.

I am more convinced than ever that we need serious research into AI integrity if we are ever going to have trustworthy AI.

Posted on July 25, 2025 at 7:10 AM • View Comments

How Cybersecurity Fears Affect Confidence in Voting Systems

American democracy runs on trust, and that trust is cracking.

Nearly half of Americans, both Democrats and Republicans, question whether elections are conducted fairly. Some voters accept election results only when their side wins. The problem isn’t just political polarization—it’s a creeping erosion of trust in the machinery of democracy itself.

Commentators blame ideological tribalism, misinformation campaigns and partisan echo chambers for this crisis of trust. But these explanations miss a critical piece of the puzzle: a growing unease with the digital infrastructure that now underpins nearly every aspect of how Americans vote.

The digital transformation of American elections has been swift and sweeping. Just two decades ago, most people voted using mechanical levers or punch cards. Today, over 95% of ballots are counted electronically. Digital systems have replaced poll books, taken over voter identity verification processes and are integrated into registration, counting, auditing and voting systems.

This technological leap has made voting more accessible and efficient, and sometimes more secure. But these new systems are also more complex. And that complexity plays into the hands of those looking to undermine democracy.

In recent years, authoritarian regimes have refined a chillingly effective strategy to chip away at Americans’ faith in democracy by relentlessly sowing doubt about the tools U.S. states use to conduct elections. It’s a sustained campaign to fracture civic faith and make Americans believe that democracy is rigged, especially when their side loses.

This is not cyberwar in the traditional sense. There’s no evidence that anyone has managed to break into voting machines and alter votes. But cyberattacks on election systems don’t need to succeed to have an effect. Even a single failed intrusion, magnified by sensational headlines and political echo chambers, is enough to shake public trust. By feeding into existing anxiety about the complexity and opacity of digital systems, adversaries create fertile ground for disinformation and conspiracy theories.

Testing cyber fears

To test this dynamic, we launched a study to uncover precisely how cyberattacks corroded trust in the vote during the 2024 U.S. presidential race. We surveyed more than 3,000 voters before and after election day, testing them using a series of fictional but highly realistic breaking news reports depicting cyberattacks against critical infrastructure. We randomly assigned participants to watch different types of news reports: some depicting cyberattacks on election systems, others on unrelated infrastructure such as the power grid, and a third, neutral control group.

The results, which are under peer review, were both striking and sobering. Mere exposure to reports of cyberattacks undermined trust in the electoral process—regardless of partisanship. Voters who supported the losing candidate experienced the greatest drop in trust, with two-thirds of Democratic voters showing heightened skepticism toward the election results.

But winners too showed diminished confidence. Even though most Republican voters, buoyed by their victory, accepted the overall security of the election, the majority of those who viewed news reports about cyberattacks remained suspicious.

The attacks didn’t even have to be related to the election. Even cyberattacks against critical infrastructure such as utilities had spillover effects. Voters seemed to extrapolate: “If the power grid can be hacked, why should I believe that voting machines are secure?”

Strikingly, voters who used digital machines to cast their ballots were the most rattled. For this group of people, belief in the accuracy of the vote count fell by nearly twice as much as that of voters who cast their ballots by mail and who didn’t use any technology. Their firsthand experience with the sorts of systems being portrayed as vulnerable personalized the threat.

It’s not hard to see why. When you’ve just used a touchscreen to vote, and then you see a news report about a digital system being breached, the leap in logic isn’t far.

Our data suggests that in a digital society, perceptions of trust—and distrust—are fluid, contagious and easily activated. The cyber domain isn’t just about networks and code. It’s also about emotions: fear, vulnerability and uncertainty.

Firewall of trust

Does this mean we should scrap electronic voting machines? Not necessarily.

Every election system, digital or analog, has flaws. And in many respects, today’s high-tech systems have solved the problems of the past with voter-verifiable paper ballots. Modern voting machines reduce human error, increase accessibility and speed up the vote count. No one misses the hanging chads of 2000.

But technology, no matter how advanced, cannot instill legitimacy on its own. It must be paired with something harder to code: public trust. In an environment where foreign adversaries amplify every flaw, cyberattacks can trigger spirals of suspicion. It is no longer enough for elections to be secure – voters must also perceive them to be secure.

That’s why public education surrounding elections is now as vital to election security as firewalls and encrypted networks. It’s vital that voters understand how elections are run, how they’re protected and how failures are caught and corrected. Election officials, civil society groups and researchers can teach how audits work, host open-source verification demonstrations and ensure that high-tech electoral processes are comprehensible to voters.

We believe this is an essential investment in democratic resilience. But it needs to be proactive, not reactive. By the time the doubt takes hold, it’s already too late.

Just as crucially, we are convinced that it’s time to rethink the very nature of cyber threats. People often imagine them in military terms. But that framework misses the true power of these threats. The danger of cyberattacks is not only that they can destroy infrastructure or steal classified secrets, but that they chip away at societal cohesion, sow anxiety and fray citizens’ confidence in democratic institutions. These attacks erode the very idea of truth itself by making people doubt that anything can be trusted.

If trust is the target, then we believe that elected officials should start to treat trust as a national asset: something to be built, renewed and defended. Because in the end, elections aren’t just about votes being counted—they’re about people believing that those votes count.

And in that belief lies the true firewall of democracy.

This essay was written with Ryan Shandler and Anthony J. DeMattee, and originally appeared in The Conversation.

Posted on June 30, 2025 at 7:05 AM • View Comments

AIs as Trusted Third Parties

This is a truly fascinating paper: “Trusted Machine Learning Models Unlock Private Inference for Problems Currently Infeasible with Cryptography.” The basic idea is that AIs can act as trusted third parties:

Abstract: We often interact with untrusted parties. Prioritization of privacy can limit the effectiveness of these interactions, as achieving certain goals necessitates sharing private data. Traditionally, addressing this challenge has involved either seeking trusted intermediaries or constructing cryptographic protocols that restrict how much data is revealed, such as multi-party computations or zero-knowledge proofs. While significant advances have been made in scaling cryptographic approaches, they remain limited in terms of the size and complexity of applications they can be used for. In this paper, we argue that capable machine learning models can fulfill the role of a trusted third party, thus enabling secure computations for applications that were previously infeasible. In particular, we describe Trusted Capable Model Environments (TCMEs) as an alternative approach for scaling secure computation, where capable machine learning model(s) interact under input/output constraints, with explicit information flow control and explicit statelessness. This approach aims to achieve a balance between privacy and computational efficiency, enabling private inference where classical cryptographic solutions are currently infeasible. We describe a number of use cases that are enabled by TCME, and show that even some simple classic cryptographic problems can already be solved with TCME. Finally, we outline current limitations and discuss the path forward in implementing them.

When I was writing Applied Cryptography way back in 1993, I talked about human trusted third parties (TTPs). This research postulates that someday AIs could fulfill the role of a human TTP, with added benefits like (1) being able to audit their processing, and (2) being able to delete it and erase their knowledge when their work is done. And the possibilities are vast.

Here’s a TTP problem. Alice and Bob want to know whose income is greater, but don’t want to reveal their income to the other. (Assume that both Alice and Bob want the true answer, so neither has an incentive to lie.) A human TTP can solve that easily: Alice and Bob whisper their income to the TTP, who announces the answer. But now the human knows the data. There are cryptographic protocols that can solve this. But we can easily imagine more complicated questions that cryptography can’t solve. “Which of these two novel manuscripts has more sex scenes?” “Which of these two business plans is a riskier investment?” If Alice and Bob can agree on an AI model they both trust, they can feed the model the data, ask the question, get the answer, and then delete the model afterwards. And it’s reasonable for Alice and Bob to trust a model with questions like this. They can take the model into their own lab and test it a gazillion times until they are satisfied that it is fair, accurate, or whatever other properties they want.

The paper contains several examples where an AI TTP provides real value. This is still mostly science fiction today, but it’s a fascinating thought experiment.

Posted on March 28, 2025 at 7:01 AM • View Comments

Personal AI Assistants and Privacy

Microsoft is trying to create a personal digital assistant:

At a Build conference event on Monday, Microsoft revealed a new AI-powered feature called “Recall” for Copilot+ PCs that will allow Windows 11 users to search and retrieve their past activities on their PC. To make it work, Recall records everything users do on their PC, including activities in apps, communications in live meetings, and websites visited for research. Despite encryption and local storage, the new feature raises privacy concerns for certain Windows users.

I wrote about this AI trust problem last year:

One of the promises of generative AI is a personal digital assistant. Acting as your advocate with others, and as a butler with you. This requires an intimacy greater than your search engine, email provider, cloud storage system, or phone. You’re going to want it with you 24/7, constantly training on everything you do. You will want it to know everything about you, so it can most effectively work on your behalf.

And it will help you in many ways. It will notice your moods and know what to suggest. It will anticipate your needs and work to satisfy them. It will be your therapist, life coach, and relationship counselor.

You will default to thinking of it as a friend. You will speak to it in natural language, and it will respond in kind. If it is a robot, it will look humanoid—­or at least like an animal. It will interact with the whole of your existence, just like another person would.

[…]

And you will want to trust it. It will use your mannerisms and cultural references. It will have a convincing voice, a confident tone, and an authoritative manner. Its personality will be optimized to exactly what you like and respond to.

It will act trustworthy, but it will not be trustworthy. We won’t know how they are trained. We won’t know their secret instructions. We won’t know their biases, either accidental or deliberate.

We do know that they are built at enormous expense, mostly in secret, by profit-maximizing corporations for their own benefit.

[…]

All of this is a long-winded way of saying that we need trustworthy AI. AI whose behavior, limitations, and training are understood. AI whose biases are understood, and corrected for. AI whose goals are understood. That won’t secretly betray your trust to someone else.

The market will not provide this on its own. Corporations are profit maximizers, at the expense of society. And the incentives of surveillance capitalism are just too much to resist.

We are going to need some sort of public AI to counterbalance all of these corporate AIs.

EDITED TO ADD (5/24): Lots of comments about Microsoft Recall and security:

This:

Because Recall is “default allow” (it relies on a list of things not to record) … it’s going to vacuum up huge volumes and heretofore unknown types of data, most of which are ephemeral today. The “we can’t avoid saving passwords if they’re not masked” warning Microsoft included is only the tip of that iceberg. There’s an ocean of data that the security ecosystem assumes is “out of reach” because it’s either never stored, or it’s encrypted in transit. All of that goes out the window if the endpoint is just going to…turn around and write it to disk. (And local encryption at rest won’t help much here if the data is queryable in the user’s own authentication context!)

This:

The fact that Microsoft’s new Recall thing won’t capture DRM content means the engineers do understand the risk of logging everything. They just chose to preference the interests of corporates and money over people, deliberately.

This:

Microsoft Recall is going to make post-breach impact analysis impossible. Right now IR processes can establish a timeline of data stewardship to identify what information may have been available to an attacker based on the level of access they obtained. It’s not trivial work, but IR folks can do it. Once a system with Recall is compromised, all data that has touched that system is potentially compromised too, and the ML indirection makes it near impossible to confidently identify a blast radius.

This:

You may be in a position where leaders in your company are hot to turn on Microsoft Copilot Recall. Your best counterargument isn’t threat actors stealing company data. It’s that opposing counsel will request the recall data and demand it not be disabled as part of e-discovery proceedings.

Posted on May 23, 2024 at 7:00 AM • View Comments

Licensing AI Engineers

The debate over professionalizing software engineers is decades old. (The basic idea is that, like lawyers and architects, there should be some professional licensing requirement for software engineers.) Here’s a law journal article recommending the same idea for AI engineers.

This Article proposes another way: professionalizing AI engineering. Require AI engineers to obtain licenses to build commercial AI products, push them to collaborate on scientifically-supported, domain-specific technical standards, and charge them with policing themselves. This Article’s proposal addresses AI harms at their inception, influencing the very engineering decisions that give rise to them in the first place. By wresting control over information and system design away from companies and handing it to AI engineers, professionalization engenders trustworthy AI by design. Beyond recommending the specific policy solution of professionalization, this Article seeks to shift the discourse on AI away from an emphasis on light-touch, ex post solutions that address already-created products to a greater focus on ex ante controls that precede AI development. We’ve used this playbook before in fields requiring a high level of expertise where a duty to the public welfare must trump business motivations. What if, like doctors, AI engineers also vowed to do no harm?

I have mixed feelings about the idea. I can see the appeal, but it never seemed feasible. I’m not sure it’s feasible today.

Posted on March 25, 2024 at 7:04 AM • View Comments

Chatbots and Human Conversation

For most of history, communicating with a computer has not been like communicating with a person. In their earliest years, computers required carefully constructed instructions, delivered through punch cards; then came a command-line interface, followed by menus and options and text boxes. If you wanted results, you needed to learn the computer’s language.

This is beginning to change. Large language models—the technology undergirding modern chatbots—allow users to interact with computers through natural conversation, an innovation that introduces some baggage from human-to-human exchanges. Early on in our respective explorations of ChatGPT, the two of us found ourselves typing a word that we’d never said to a computer before: “Please.” The syntax of civility has crept into nearly every aspect of our encounters; we speak to this algebraic assemblage as if it were a person—even when we know that it’s not.

Right now, this sort of interaction is a novelty. But as chatbots become a ubiquitous element of modern life and permeate many of our human-computer interactions, they have the potential to subtly reshape how we think about both computers and our fellow human beings.

One direction that these chatbots may lead us in is toward a society where we ascribe humanity to AI systems, whether abstract chatbots or more physical robots. Just as we are biologically primed to see faces in objects, we imagine intelligence in anything that can hold a conversation. (This isn’t new: People projected intelligence and empathy onto the very primitive 1960s chatbot, Eliza.) We say “please” to LLMs because it feels wrong not to.

Chatbots are growing only more common, and there is reason to believe they will become ever more intimate parts of our lives. The market for AI companions, ranging from friends to romantic partners, is already crowded. Several companies are working on AI assistants, akin to secretaries or butlers, that will anticipate and satisfy our needs. And other companies are working on AI therapists, mediators, and life coaches—even simulacra of our dead relatives. More generally, chatbots will likely become the interface through which we interact with all sorts of computerized processes—an AI that responds to our style of language, every nuance of emotion, even tone of voice.

Many users will be primed to think of these AIs as friends, rather than the corporate-created systems that they are. The internet already spies on us through systems such as Meta’s advertising network, and LLMs will likely join in: OpenAI’s privacy policy, for example, already outlines the many different types of personal information the company collects. The difference is that the chatbots’ natural-language interface will make them feel more humanlike—reinforced with every politeness on both sides—and we could easily miscategorize them in our minds.

Major chatbots do not yet alter how they communicate with users to satisfy their parent company’s business interests, but market pressure might push things in that direction. Reached for comment about this, a spokesperson for OpenAI pointed to a section of the privacy policy noting that the company does not currently sell or share personal information for “cross-contextual behavioral advertising,” and that the company does not “process sensitive Personal Information for the purposes of inferring characteristics about a consumer.” In an interview with Axios earlier today, OpenAI CEO Sam Altman said future generations of AI may involve “quite a lot of individual customization,” and “that’s going to make a lot of people uncomfortable.”

Other computing technologies have been shown to shape our cognition. Studies indicate that autocomplete on websites and in word processors can dramatically reorganize our writing. Generally, these recommendations result in blander, more predictable prose. And where autocomplete systems give biased prompts, they result in biased writing. In one benign experiment, positive autocomplete suggestions led to more positive restaurant reviews, and negative autocomplete suggestions led to the reverse. The effects could go far beyond tweaking our writing styles to affecting our mental health, just as with the potentially depression- and anxiety-inducing social-media platforms of today.

The other direction these chatbots may take us is even more disturbing: into a world where our conversations with them result in our treating our fellow human beings with the apathy, disrespect, and incivility we more typically show machines.

Today’s chatbots perform best when instructed with a level of precision that would be appallingly rude in human conversation, stripped of any conversational pleasantries that the model could misinterpret: “Draft a 250-word paragraph in my typical writing style, detailing three examples to support the following point and cite your sources.” Not even the most detached corporate CEO would likely talk this way to their assistant, but it’s common with chatbots.

If chatbots truly become the dominant daily conversation partner for some people, there is an acute risk that these users will adopt a lexicon of AI commands even when talking to other humans. Rather than speaking with empathy, subtlety, and nuance, we’ll be trained to speak with the cold precision of a programmer talking to a computer. The colorful aphorisms and anecdotes that give conversations their inherently human quality, but that often confound large language models, could begin to vanish from the human discourse.

For precedent, one need only look at the ways that bot accounts already degrade digital discourse on social media, inflaming passions with crudely programmed responses to deeply emotional topics; they arguably played a role in sowing discord and polarizing voters in the 2016 election. But AI companions are likely to be a far larger part of some users’ social circle than the bots of today, potentially having a much larger impact on how those people use language and navigate relationships. What is unclear is whether this will negatively affect one user in a billion or a large portion of them.

Such a shift is unlikely to transform human conversations into cartoonishly robotic recitations overnight, but it could subtly and meaningfully reshape colloquial conversation over the course of years, just as the character limits of text messages affected so much of colloquial writing, turning terms such as LOL, IMO, and TMI into everyday vernacular.

AI chatbots are always there when you need them to be, for whatever you need them for. People aren’t like that. Imagine a future filled with people who have spent years conversing with their AI friends or romantic partners. Like a person whose only sexual experiences have been mediated by pornography or erotica, they could have unrealistic expectations of human partners. And the more ubiquitous and lifelike the chatbots become, the greater the impact could be.

More generally, AI might accelerate the disintegration of institutional and social trust. Technologies such as Facebook were supposed to bring the world together, but in the intervening years, the public has become more and more suspicious of the people around them and less trusting of civic institutions. AI may drive people further toward isolation and suspicion, always unsure whether the person they’re chatting with is actually a machine, and treating them as inhuman regardless.

Of course, history is replete with people claiming that the digital sky is falling, bemoaning each new invention as the end of civilization as we know it. In the end, LLMs may be little more than the word processor of tomorrow, a handy innovation that makes things a little easier while leaving most of our lives untouched. Which path we take depends on how we train the chatbots of tomorrow, but it also depends on whether we invest in strengthening the bonds of civil society today.

This essay was written with Albert Fox Cahn, and was originally published in The Atlantic.

Posted on January 26, 2024 at 7:09 AM • View Comments

OpenAI Is Not Training on Your Dropbox Documents—Today

There’s a rumor flying around the Internet that OpenAI is training foundation models on your Dropbox documents.

Here’s CNBC. Here’s Boing Boing. Some articles are more nuanced, but there’s still a lot of confusion.

It seems not to be true. Dropbox isn’t sharing all of your documents with OpenAI. But here’s the problem: we don’t trust OpenAI. We don’t trust tech corporations. And—to be fair—corporations in general. We have no reason to.

Simon Willison nails it in a tweet:

“OpenAI are training on every piece of data they see, even when they say they aren’t” is the new “Facebook are showing you ads based on overhearing everything you say through your phone’s microphone.”

Willison expands this in a blog post, which I strongly recommend reading in its entirety. His point is that these companies have lost our trust:

Trust is really important. Companies lying about what they do with your privacy is a very serious allegation.

A society where big companies tell blatant lies about how they are handling our data—­and get away with it without consequences­—is a very unhealthy society.

A key role of government is to prevent this from happening. If OpenAI are training on data that they said they wouldn’t train on, or if Facebook are spying on us through our phone’s microphones, they should be hauled in front of regulators and/or sued into the ground.

If we believe that they are doing this without consequence, and have been getting away with it for years, our intolerance for corporate misbehavior becomes a victim as well. We risk letting companies get away with real misconduct because we incorrectly believed in conspiracy theories.

Privacy is important, and very easily misunderstood. People both overestimate and underestimate what companies are doing, and what’s possible. This isn’t helped by the fact that AI technology means the scope of what’s possible is changing at a rate that’s hard to appreciate even if you’re deeply aware of the space.

If we want to protect our privacy, we need to understand what’s going on. More importantly, we need to be able to trust companies to honestly and clearly explain what they are doing with our data.

On a personal level we risk losing out on useful tools. How many people cancelled their Dropbox accounts in the last 48 hours? How many more turned off that AI toggle, ruling out ever evaluating if those features were useful for them or not?

And while Dropbox is not sending your data to OpenAI today, it could do so tomorrow with a simple change of its terms of service. So could your bank, or credit card company, your phone company, or any other company that owns your data. Any of the tens of thousands of data brokers could be sending your data to train AI models right now, without your knowledge or consent. (At least, in the US. Hooray for the EU and GDPR.)

Or, as Thomas Claburn wrote:

“Your info won’t be harvested for training” is the new “Your private chatter won’t be used for ads.”

These foundation models want our data. The corporations that have our data want the money. It’s only a matter of time, unless we get serious government privacy regulation.

Posted on December 19, 2023 at 7:09 AM • View Comments

AI and Trust

I trusted a lot today. I trusted my phone to wake me on time. I trusted Uber to arrange a taxi for me, and the driver to get me to the airport safely. I trusted thousands of other drivers on the road not to ram my car on the way. At the airport, I trusted ticket agents and maintenance engineers and everyone else who keeps airlines operating. And the pilot of the plane I flew in. And thousands of other people at the airport and on the plane, any of which could have attacked me. And all the people that prepared and served my breakfast, and the entire food supply chain—any of them could have poisoned me. When I landed here, I trusted thousands more people: at the airport, on the road, in this building, in this room. And that was all before 10:30 this morning.

Trust is essential to society. Humans as a species are trusting. We are all sitting here, mostly strangers, confident that nobody will attack us. If we were a roomful of chimpanzees, this would be impossible. We trust many thousands of times a day. Society can’t function without it. And that we don’t even think about it is a measure of how well it all works.

In this talk, I am going to make several arguments. One, that there are two different kinds of trust—interpersonal trust and social trust—and that we regularly confuse them. Two, that the confusion will increase with artificial intelligence. We will make a fundamental category error. We will think of AIs as friends when they’re really just services. Three, that the corporations controlling AI systems will take advantage of our confusion to take advantage of us. They will not be trustworthy. And four, that it is the role of government to create trust in society. And therefore, it is their role to create an environment for trustworthy AI. And that means regulation. Not regulating AI, but regulating the organizations that control and use AI.

Okay, so let’s back up and take that all a lot slower. Trust is a complicated concept, and the word is overloaded with many meanings. There’s personal and intimate trust. When we say that we trust a friend, it is less about their specific actions and more about them as a person. It’s a general reliance that they will behave in a trustworthy manner. We trust their intentions, and know that those intentions will inform their actions. Let’s call this “interpersonal trust.”

There’s also the less intimate, less personal trust. We might not know someone personally, or know their motivations—but we can trust their behavior. We don’t know whether or not someone wants to steal, but maybe we can trust that they won’t. It’s really more about reliability and predictability. We’ll call this “social trust.” It’s the ability to trust strangers.

Interpersonal trust and social trust are both essential in society today. This is how it works. We have mechanisms that induce people to behave in a trustworthy manner, both interpersonally and socially. This, in turn, allows others to be trusting. Which enables trust in society. And that keeps society functioning. The system isn’t perfect—there are always going to be untrustworthy people—but most of us being trustworthy most of the time is good enough.

I wrote about this in 2012 in a book called Liars and Outliers. I wrote about four systems for enabling trust: our innate morals, concern about our reputations, the laws we live under, and security technologies that constrain our behavior. I wrote about how the first two are more informal than the last two. And how the last two scale better, and allow for larger and more complex societies. They enable cooperation amongst strangers.

What I didn’t appreciate is how different the first and last two are. Morals and reputation are person to person, based on human connection, mutual vulnerability, respect, integrity, generosity, and a lot of other things besides. These underpin interpersonal trust. Laws and security technologies are systems of trust that force us to act trustworthy. And they’re the basis of social trust.

Taxi driver used to be one of the country’s most dangerous professions. Uber changed that. I don’t know my Uber driver, but the rules and the technology lets us both be confident that neither of us will cheat or attack each other. We are both under constant surveillance and are competing for star rankings.

Lots of people write about the difference between living in a high-trust and a low-trust society. How reliability and predictability make everything easier. And what is lost when society doesn’t have those characteristics. Also, how societies move from high-trust to low-trust and vice versa. This is all about social trust.

That literature is important, but for this talk the critical point is that social trust scales better. You used to need a personal relationship with a banker to get a loan. Now it’s all done algorithmically, and you have many more options to choose from.

Social trust scales better, but embeds all sorts of bias and prejudice. That’s because, in order to scale, social trust has to be structured, system- and rule-oriented, and that’s where the bias gets embedded. And the system has to be mostly blinded to context, which removes flexibility.

But that scale is vital. In today’s society we regularly trust—or not—governments, corporations, brands, organizations, groups. It’s not so much that I trusted the particular pilot that flew my airplane, but instead the airline that puts well-trained and well-rested pilots in cockpits on schedule. I don’t trust the cooks and waitstaff at a restaurant, but the system of health codes they work under. I can’t even describe the banking system I trusted when I used an ATM this morning. Again, this confidence is no more than reliability and predictability.

Think of that restaurant again. Imagine that it’s a fast food restaurant, employing teenagers. The food is almost certainly safe—probably safer than in high-end restaurants—because of the corporate systems or reliability and predictability that is guiding their every behavior.

That’s the difference. You can ask a friend to deliver a package across town. Or you can pay the Post Office to do the same thing. The former is interpersonal trust, based on morals and reputation. You know your friend and how reliable they are. The second is a service, made possible by social trust. And to the extent that is a reliable and predictable service, it’s primarily based on laws and technologies. Both can get your package delivered, but only the second can become the global package delivery systems that is FedEx.

Because of how large and complex society has become, we have replaced many of the rituals and behaviors of interpersonal trust with security mechanisms that enforce reliability and predictability—social trust.

But because we use the same word for both, we regularly confuse them. And when we do that, we are making a category error.

And we do it all the time. With governments. With organizations. With systems of all kinds. And especially with corporations.

We might think of them as friends, when they are actually services. Corporations are not moral; they are precisely as immoral as the law and their reputations let them get away with.

So corporations regularly take advantage of their customers, mistreat their workers, pollute the environment, and lobby for changes in law so they can do even more of these things.

Both language and the laws make this an easy category error to make. We use the same grammar for people and corporations. We imagine that we have personal relationships with brands. We give corporations some of the same rights as people.

Corporations like that we make this category error—see, I just made it myself—because they profit when we think of them as friends. They use mascots and spokesmodels. They have social media accounts with personalities. They refer to themselves like they are people.

But they are not our friends. Corporations are not capable of having that kind of relationship.

We are about to make the same category error with AI. We’re going to think of them as our friends when they’re not.

A lot has been written about AIs as existential risk. The worry is that they will have a goal, and they will work to achieve it even if it harms humans in the process. You may have read about the “paperclip maximizer“: an AI that has been programmed to make as many paper clips as possible, and ends up destroying the earth to achieve those ends. It’s a weird fear. Science fiction author Ted Chiang writes about it. Instead of solving all of humanity’s problems, or wandering off proving mathematical theorems that no one understands, the AI single-mindedly pursues the goal of maximizing production. Chiang’s point is that this is every corporation’s business plan. And that our fears of AI are basically fears of capitalism. Science fiction writer Charlie Stross takes this one step further, and calls corporations “slow AI.” They are profit maximizing machines. And the most successful ones do whatever they can to achieve that singular goal.

And near-term AIs will be controlled by corporations. Which will use them towards that profit-maximizing goal. They won’t be our friends. At best, they’ll be useful services. More likely, they’ll spy on us and try to manipulate us.

This is nothing new. Surveillance is the business model of the Internet. Manipulation is the other business model of the Internet.

Your Google search results lead with URLs that someone paid to show to you. Your Facebook and Instagram feeds are filled with sponsored posts. Amazon searches return pages of products whose sellers paid for placement.

This is how the Internet works. Companies spy on us as we use their products and services. Data brokers buy that surveillance data from the smaller companies, and assemble detailed dossiers on us. Then they sell that information back to those and other companies, who combine it with data they collect in order to manipulate our behavior to serve their interests. At the expense of our own.

We use all of these services as if they are our agents, working on our behalf. In fact, they are double agents, also secretly working for their corporate owners. We trust them, but they are not trustworthy. They’re not friends; they’re services.

It’s going to be no different with AI. And the result will be much worse, for two reasons.

The first is that these AI systems will be more relational. We will be conversing with them, using natural language. As such, we will naturally ascribe human-like characteristics to them.

This relational nature will make it easier for those double agents to do their work. Did your chatbot recommend a particular airline or hotel because it’s truly the best deal, given your particular set of needs? Or because the AI company got a kickback from those providers? When you asked it to explain a political issue, did it bias that explanation towards the company’s position? Or towards the position of whichever political party gave it the most money? The conversational interface will help hide their agenda.

The second reason to be concerned is that these AIs will be more intimate. One of the promises of generative AI is a personal digital assistant. Acting as your advocate with others, and as a butler with you. This requires an intimacy greater than your search engine, email provider, cloud storage system, or phone. You’re going to want it with you 24/7, constantly training on everything you do. You will want it to know everything about you, so it can most effectively work on your behalf.

And it will help you in many ways. It will notice your moods and know what to suggest. It will anticipate your needs and work to satisfy them. It will be your therapist, life coach, and relationship counselor.

You will default to thinking of it as a friend. You will speak to it in natural language, and it will respond in kind. If it is a robot, it will look humanoid—or at least like an animal. It will interact with the whole of your existence, just like another person would.

The natural language interface is critical here. We are primed to think of others who speak our language as people. And we sometimes have trouble thinking of others who speak a different language that way. We make that category error with obvious non-people, like cartoon characters. We will naturally have a “theory of mind” about any AI we talk with.

More specifically, we tend to assume that something’s implementation is the same as its interface. That is, we assume that things are the same on the inside as they are on the surface. Humans are like that: we’re people through and through. A government is systemic and bureaucratic on the inside. You’re not going to mistake it for a person when you interact with it. But this is the category error we make with corporations. We sometimes mistake the organization for its spokesperson. AI has a fully relational interface—it talks like a person—but it has an equally fully systemic implementation. Like a corporation, but much more so. The implementation and interface are more divergent than anything we have encountered to date—by a lot.

And you will want to trust it. It will use your mannerisms and cultural references. It will have a convincing voice, a confident tone, and an authoritative manner. Its personality will be optimized to exactly what you like and respond to.

It will act trustworthy, but it will not be trustworthy. We won’t know how they are trained. We won’t know their secret instructions. We won’t know their biases, either accidental or deliberate.

We do know that they are built at enormous expense, mostly in secret, by profit-maximizing corporations for their own benefit.

It’s no accident that these corporate AIs have a human-like interface. There’s nothing inevitable about that. It’s a design choice. It could be designed to be less personal, less human-like, more obviously a service—like a search engine . The companies behind those AIs want you to make the friend/service category error. It will exploit your mistaking it for a friend. And you might not have any choice but to use it.

There is something we haven’t discussed when it comes to trust: power. Sometimes we have no choice but to trust someone or something because they are powerful. We are forced to trust the local police, because they’re the only law enforcement authority in town. We are forced to trust some corporations, because there aren’t viable alternatives. To be more precise, we have no choice but to entrust ourselves to them. We will be in this same position with AI. We will have no choice but to entrust ourselves to their decision-making.

The friend/service confusion will help mask this power differential. We will forget how powerful the corporation behind the AI is, because we will be fixated on the person we think the AI is.

So far, we have been talking about one particular failure that results from overly trusting AI. We can call it something like “hidden exploitation.” There are others. There’s outright fraud, where the AI is actually trying to steal stuff from you. There’s the more prosaic mistaken expertise, where you think the AI is more knowledgeable than it is because it acts confidently. There’s incompetency, where you believe that the AI can do something it can’t. There’s inconsistency, where you mistakenly expect the AI to be able to repeat its behaviors. And there’s illegality, where you mistakenly trust the AI to obey the law. There are probably more ways trusting an AI can fail.

All of this is a long-winded way of saying that we need trustworthy AI. AI whose behavior, limitations, and training are understood. AI whose biases are understood, and corrected for. AI whose goals are understood. That won’t secretly betray your trust to someone else.

The market will not provide this on its own. Corporations are profit maximizers, at the expense of society. And the incentives of surveillance capitalism are just too much to resist.

It’s government that provides the underlying mechanisms for the social trust essential to society. Think about contract law. Or laws about property, or laws protecting your personal safety. Or any of the health and safety codes that let you board a plane, eat at a restaurant, or buy a pharmaceutical without worry.

The more you can trust that your societal interactions are reliable and predictable, the more you can ignore their details. Places where governments don’t provide these things are not good places to live.

Government can do this with AI. We need AI transparency laws. When it is used. How it is trained. What biases and tendencies it has. We need laws regulating AI—and robotic—safety. When it is permitted to affect the world. We need laws that enforce the trustworthiness of AI. Which means the ability to recognize when those laws are being broken. And penalties sufficiently large to incent trustworthy behavior.

Many countries are contemplating AI safety and security laws—the EU is the furthest along—but I think they are making a critical mistake. They try to regulate the AIs and not the humans behind them.

AIs are not people; they don’t have agency. They are built by, trained by, and controlled by people. Mostly for-profit corporations. Any AI regulations should place restrictions on those people and corporations. Otherwise the regulations are making the same category error I’ve been talking about. At the end of the day, there is always a human responsible for whatever the AI’s behavior is. And it’s the human who needs to be responsible for what they do—and what their companies do. Regardless of whether it was due to humans, or AI, or a combination of both. Maybe that won’t be true forever, but it will be true in the near future. If we want trustworthy AI, we need to require trustworthy AI controllers.

We already have a system for this: fiduciaries. There are areas in society where trustworthiness is of paramount importance, even more than usual. Doctors, lawyers, accountants…these are all trusted agents. They need extraordinary access to our information and ourselves to do their jobs, and so they have additional legal responsibilities to act in our best interests. They have fiduciary responsibility to their clients.

We need the same sort of thing for our data. The idea of a data fiduciary is not new. But it’s even more vital in a world of generative AI assistants.

And we need one final thing: public AI models. These are systems built by academia, or non-profit groups, or government itself, that can be owned and run by individuals.

The term “public model” has been thrown around a lot in the AI world, so it’s worth detailing what this means. It’s not a corporate AI model that the public is free to use. It’s not a corporate AI model that the government has licensed. It’s not even an open-source model that the public is free to examine and modify.

A public model is a model built by the public for the public. It requires political accountability, not just market accountability. This means openness and transparency paired with a responsiveness to public demands. It should also be available for anyone to build on top of. This means universal access. And a foundation for a free market in AI innovations. This would be a counter-balance to corporate-owned AI.

We can never make AI into our friends. But we can make them into trustworthy services—agents and not double agents. But only if government mandates it. We can put limits on surveillance capitalism. But only if government mandates it.

Because the point of government is to create social trust. I started this talk by explaining the importance of trust in society, and how interpersonal trust doesn’t scale to larger groups. That other, impersonal kind of trust—social trust, reliability and predictability—is what governments create.

To the extent a government improves the overall trust in society, it succeeds. And to the extent a government doesn’t, it fails.

But they have to. We need government to constrain the behavior of corporations and the AIs they build, deploy, and control. Government needs to enforce both predictability and reliability.

That’s how we can create the social trust that society needs to thrive.

This essay previously appeared on the Harvard Kennedy School Belfer Center’s website.

EDITED TO ADD: This essay has been translated into German.

Posted on December 4, 2023 at 7:05 AM • View Comments

The Inability to Simultaneously Verify Sentience, Location, and Identity

Really interesting “systematization of knowledge” paper:

“SoK: The Ghost Trilemma”

Abstract: Trolls, bots, and sybils distort online discourse and compromise the security of networked platforms. User identity is central to the vectors of attack and manipulation employed in these contexts. However it has long seemed that, try as it might, the security community has been unable to stem the rising tide of such problems. We posit the Ghost Trilemma, that there are three key properties of identity—sentience, location, and uniqueness—that cannot be simultaneously verified in a fully-decentralized setting. Many fully-decentralized systems—whether for communication or social coordination—grapple with this trilemma in some way, perhaps unknowingly. In this Systematization of Knowledge (SoK) paper, we examine the design space, use cases, problems with prior approaches, and possible paths forward. We sketch a proof of this trilemma and outline options for practical, incrementally deployable schemes to achieve an acceptable tradeoff of trust in centralized trust anchors, decentralized operation, and an ability to withstand a range of attacks, while protecting user privacy.

I think this conceptualization makes sense, and explains a lot.

Posted on August 11, 2023 at 7:08 AM • View Comments

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Sidebar photo of Bruce Schneier by Joe MacInnis.