A cross-section of everyday life deposited in the cyber cloud A world that disappears with a remote push 2007-2015

A cross-section of everyday life deposited in the cyber cloud A world that disappears with a remote push 2007-2015

The late 2000s and the 10s were a time when phonebooks, photos, maps, and payments all flowed into the same cloud. Terminals were always connected, the morning's photo appeared on a different screen at noon and was replayed on a machine at home at night. Convenience dissolved boundaries. A single setting is transmitted to all terminals, and a single mishandling can chip away at all the layers of life. The great reserve of humanity as a whole was nowhere to be found, and we walked on, each of us depositing our own history in our own little cloud.

At the core of the chain is remote control. Remote initialization and device searches, introduced as a measure against loss, are obeyed en masse when the order is passed. Behind the notification, an apple or green distribution network quietly carries the orders. Recovery procedures are kindly consolidated, and while family sharing and default contacts become stairs of security, they also become stepping stones. The assumption that you are safe because you have stored it in the cloud is flipped around only to have the keys to recovery in the same cloud broken first. When the box protecting the key bundle itself is opened, the keys inside scatter with it.

The identification mechanism also breaks at the weakest link in a long chain. The design of one identification opens another door, the breakthrough of simple authentication via the number hijacking of the brief and the old weakness of the line, and the wide reach of the convenience of a single login. The fingerprinting of a device shows my-ness only in probability, and the small symbols that remain where the warrant does not reach open a big mouth for another day. Even on the supply side, the slow updating of the device and the extra bundling of the device underlay the ease of passing a remote signal.

Social screens also lead to clouds. Both emergency notices and street announcements are distributed from a centralized operating table, and the intrusion of a few turns into widespread confusion. In the skies of operation, more and more signals were given out to tell their own identity and location, but with no way to verify the truth of what they were saying, the possibility of false appearances was pointed out. Concentration and remoteness went in the name of efficiency, and its one-dimensional speed gave the same speed to a false move.

Still, there are ways to protect. Instead of raising long walls, we divide seams into shorter sections. Separate the path of recovery from the path of authentication, and carve authority only to the extent that it is needed. Putting a stopper at key points where people can check again before receiving a signal, and keeping records in a way that can be traced back to them. Instead of relying on one type of key, keep a physical key on hand, disposable cues on a piece of paper, and copies of life outside the cloud. Create an unwritten copy in cycles so that if the cloud is broken, it can be rebuilt on the ground. Slowly updating devices narrow down their role and retire to a place where they will not be subject to unseen commands.

We need not cease to be clouds to question clouds. What is needed is to redraw the map of how far a remote push can reach. Make visible the paths that convenience has widened, narrowing the path in places and remaking it so that it requires a different key to step over. Intersperse small resistances of confirmation and delay as people move. If there is no big reserve of the whole, make each person's small reserve a sure place. To ensure that the routine deposited in the clouds does not disappear at a single signal.