By Al Fasoldt
Copyright © 1991, The Syracuse Newspapers
This is a letter to the thief who robbed me a few weeks ago.
Since that day, he's written to me about the robbery twice—each
time by anonymous electronic mail.
Dear John:
I know that's not your real name, but it's the only name I know
you by. The day you robbed me you left a calling card. It had
the words "John Smith" written on it.
I realize this is confusing to you, John. As far as you're concerned,
you never came into my home or into my office. You never left
a calling card. You were just a tourist, right? All you pulled
off was a little hack. All you did was let your fingers do the
walking—into my computer system.
No, John. It wasn't just a hack. It was a robbery. Cops call it
breaking and entering. You had no right to break into the area
of my computer system where I keep private files. You had no right
to browse through my programs. They aren't yours, John. They belong
to me.
Like most thieves, you returned to the scene of the crime. Twice
since that break-in you have sent electronic letters to me—by
calling the same computer system that you had broken into.
It's ready to take all the legitimate mail you want to send, John.
That's what it's for. It's a telecommunications computer that
readers use to send electronic letters to the editor. Reporters
use it to send in their stories from remote locations. Funeral
homes use it to send obituaries.
And people who want to tell me off use it to tell me off.
But those readers didn't need to be told to behave themselves.
They acted like guests in someone else's house. You acted like
you owned the place.
In legal terms, John, the computer system that you violated is
nothing more than an electronic version of my newspaper office.
Anyone can walk into the lobby here, but we don't let visitors
into the offices without a pass. In order to get that pass, they
have to provide their names.
Likewise, the system you called lets anyone dial into the computer.
But you have to give a name and a phone number if you want to
reach the business end of that computer system—the menus and instructions
that guide you through the task of sending something electronically.
Honest callers give their real names and real phone numbers. You
gave a fake name. And your phone number? It's not "555-1212,"
John. I knew you were a clown as soon as I saw that number—the
general number for directory assistance—in the permanent log the
computer keeps for me.
And I knew you were a thief when the log showed me how you snuck
through the private storage areas on my computer's disk drive,
reading file after file.
In the second letter you wrote to me, you tried to excuse your
behavior by saying you didn't steal anything.
"If someone takes something from you, then that's illegal and
wrong," you said. "But you still have all your files; nothing
is missing."
All you did was copy my files, and that's OK, right? The original
files are still in my computer, so you couldn't have stolen anything.
What wonderful logic, John. It shows a lot of maturity.
Suppose you walk into our lobby and sneak up the stairway when
the receptionist isn't looking. The offices are right off the
top of the stairway, John, and they're full of file cabinets.
Are you telling me no one will mind if you pull open the first
file drawer you see and start making photocopies of our private
papers? After all, all you're doing is copying them, right? And
what's wrong with that?
There's a lot wrong with that. Trespassing, for starters. Illegal
entry, maybe. Theft. (Did we give you permission to take home
copies of our files?) And a half-dozen other interesting illegalities.
You bet your bytes you were stealing the files from my computer,
John. And you can be sure that using the telephone to commit a
crime adds a few more fascinating wrinkles to the penalties.
Talk to a lawyer fast, John. If I catch you—and I assure you that
I am far more determined than you are—I will do everything I can
to make you pay.
I wish I could say that I feel this way just to get revenge. But
there's a stronger reason. There are hundreds of honest callers
who depend on me, and I won't let them down.
technofile:
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