Conducting Cybersecurity Research Legally and Ethically
Aaron J. Burstein
University of California, Berkeley (School of
Law)
aburstein@law.berkeley.edu
Abstract
The primary legal obstacles to conducting cybersecurity are not
outright prohibitions but rather the difficulty of determining
which of a large set of complex statutes might regulate a given
research project. Privacy, computer abuse, tort, and contract
law are all potentially applicable. Moreover, even when the law
permits a research activity, researchers may wonder whether
it is ethically permissible. This paper seeks to clarify these
issues by explaining the areas of law that are most generally applicable
to cybersecurity researchers and offering guidelines for evaluating
ethical issues that arise in this area of research.
1 Introduction
Research occupies a central role in cybersecurity policy in the United
States. It may provide ways to reduce and mitigate the increasingly serious
threats to the computers and networks that the United States (and other highly
developed countries) have come to rely upon so heavily. Funding this
research has been a priority for Congress as well as the National
Science Foundation, DARPA, the Department of Homeland Security, and
other agencies [11]. As networked information systems
become pervasive, this commitment to research is essential.
But a fog of legal and ethical uncertainty hangs over cybersecurity
research. A variety of federal and state statutes
either prohibit activities that would provide cybersecurity researchers with
data about real systems and real attackers, or cast such doubt on
research activities that researchers modify their programs or conduct
them with a sense of uncertainty as to their legality. Cybersecurity
researchers (and officials within the organizations that employ them)
may also suspect that certain things are illegal when, in fact, they are
not; but researchers nonetheless avoid certain paths. Conversely, researchers
may view the legality of a certain course of research as license to pursue
it without regard to ethical considerations.
Ethical questions lurk beyond these legal issues and also deserve
researchers' attention. Though the statutes
discussed here contain expansive prohibitions on certain kinds of
conduct, they do not address all instances in which researchers
may find themselves wondering, "Is this the right thing to do?"
In addition, many cybersecurity researchers present their
data collection and analysis plans to institutional review boards (IRBs)
and information officers (e.g., CISOs) for approval. These individuals and
bodies often are unfamiliar with cybersecurity research in general and
the problems that research face collecting data in particular. They
will often wonder about how proposed research affects individual privacy
and the security of the organization's information systems. The better
researchers can explain how their activities will affect these interests,
the easier they may find it easier to obtain approval and cooperation.
The overall argument in this paper is twofold. First, though U.S.
law does not permit everything that cybersecurity researchers would
like to do, relatively few research activities are flatly
prohibited.1
Nonetheless, uncertainty among researchers about what the law
actually says, as well as doubt about the ethics of some activities,
may hold back certain research efforts. Though privacy is an important
part of this picture, computer abuse, copyright, tort, and contract law
pose issues as well. Second, this paper emphasizes that cybersecurity
researchers work within organizations whose interests typically include
far more than improving cybersecurity. Thus, this paper strives to
provide ways to allow cybersecurity researchers to think through
the legal and ethical dimensions of their research, so that they
may better explain it to non-experts and discuss how it is consistent
with an organization's overall interests.
The discussions in this paper revolve around general problems that
cybersecurity researchers face, rather than particular research efforts.
The hope is that whatever is lost by avoiding discussion of specific
research will be recovered by preventing embarrassment to researchers and
encouraging a frank discussion within the cybersecurity research
community.
Section 2 reviews previous work examining legal issues in
cybersecurity research. Section 3 explains the legal and
ethical issues surrounding collecting and sharing network datasets,
ending with a proposal to create a cybersecurity research exception to
federal communications privacy laws. Section 4 discusses
issues associated with running malicious code on research machines.
Section 5 analyzes the law and ethics
of mitigating attacks, while Section 6 does the same for
publishing results. Finally, Section 7 concludes with a
few suggestions for action by cybersecurity researchers with
respect to their own research, within their organizations, and
within the political arena.
2 Background
A few legal scholars have examined some of the legal issues facing
cybersecurity research. Liu, for example, has examined
the effects of the Digital Millennium Copyright Act (DMCA) on cryptography
research [13].
He concluded that the DMCA's prohibitions on circumventing
"technical protection measures" on copyrighted works are so broad,
and the encryption research exception is so narrow, that researchers
are justified in fearing liability for researching and publishing
about vulnerabilities in certain encryption schemes.
Research using honeypots and honeynets raises significant questions
about liability under the federal Computer Fraud and Abuse Act (CFAA) and
communications privacy statutes (including the Wiretap Act and Pen
Register/Trap and Trace Devices Act). Salgado analyzed
a range of honeynet set-ups and found that the risk of liability under
the communications privacy statutes can best be reduced by incorporating
honeynets into production systems and networks[20].
He did not, however,
give much attention to researcher liability under the CFAA, the
possibility of which must be taken into account given that more recent
honeynet designs involve more interaction with attackers.
Finally, Ohm et al. examined statutory communications privacy (including
the Stored Communications Act in addition to the statutes named above) issues
arising in conjunction with collecting, publishing, and using network
traces [17]. They argued that these statutes are sufficiently vague
to make it unclear whether a given trace collection will violate one or more
of them. Nonetheless, they argued, legislative reform of these laws is
probably unnecessary and, in any event, would be unlikely to add much
clarity for cybersecurity researchers.
3 Obtaining Data from Networks
Data from real networks is critical to several areas of cybersecurity
research. Intrusion detection research, for example, depends on access to
large volumes of network traffic in order to generate signatures of
attacks while minimizing false positives and false negatives. The
stresses of real systems may also be necessary to test the performance
of real-time collection and analysis technologies. In addition to
their importance to individual research efforts, datasets can contribute
to a broad picture of the Internet when shared among
researchers [6].
3.1 Collecting Network Traces
As many cybersecurity researchers are aware, however, federal communications
privacy laws limit access to the traffic on computer
networks.2
In particular, federal law provides the following:
- Wiretap Act [1]: Prohibits real-time interception of
the contents of electronic communications.
A "provider exception," however, permits
the employees of a network operator to intercept and record communications
to the extent necessary to protect the "rights and property" of the
operator.
Unfortunately, the distinction between "content" and
"non-content" information is not always clear. In particular, the
distinction is not as simple as the separation between packet header and
payload. The contents of a communication are defined to mean the
"substance, purport, or meaning" of the communication, while non-content
information refers to both addressing information as well as records
pertaining to a network user, e.g., billing information. Under these
definitions, courts have held IP addresses (both sender and receiver) and
the To: and From: fields in e-mail
messages to be non-content information [25],
while the Subject field is commonly regarded as contents [15].
The same definitions of "contents" and "non-content information" apply
to the two statutes discussed below.
- Pen Register/Trap and Trace statute [5] (commonly
referred to as the "Pen/Trap statute"): Prohibits real-time
interception of the non-content portions of electronic communications. The
Pen/Trap statute contains a provider exception that is similar to the
one provided under the Wiretap Act. Once non-content data are stored,
analysis and disclosure of the data are subject to the Stored
Communications Act.
- Stored Communications Act (SCA)[4]:
Prohibits providers of "electronic
communications service to the public" from knowingly disclosing
the contents of customers' communications, as well as non-content
records relating to customers' communications. The SCA imposes
little, if any, restrictions on uses of data within the organization
that collects them. Publishing or sharing the same data with employees
of other organizations, however, implicates the more restrictive
disclosure rules discussed in Section 3.2.
Taken as a whole, there are two salient features of this complex set of
laws. First, they
contain no research exceptions. This is in contrast to other privacy
statutes, such as the Health Insurance Portability and Accountability
Act (HIPAA), which restricts disclosures of personal health information
but provides means for researchers to obtain such information both with
and without individual consent. The provider exceptions to the Wiretap
Act and Pen/Trap statute are the closest that these laws come to
a research exception. Making use of this exception
requires close cooperation between researchers and officials from
their institutions.
The second point to note about the electronic communications privacy
statutes is that they create a patchwork of prohibitions and exceptions
that are difficult for researchers and research organizations to navigate.
As the summaries above indicate, the rules for accessing communications
contents are different from those governing access to addressing
information; and access to data in real-time versus in storage introduces
still more variations in the law.
Thus, the Wiretap Act and Pen/Trap statute pose obvious hurdles to
cybersecurity researchers. Consider the issue of consent under the Wiretap
Act. Given that testing, say, intrusion detection
algorithms may require access to traffic at a university's gateway,
obtaining individual consent is probably unworkable. Universities
typically inform their network users, through banner notices or terms
of use, that the network is monitored. It is unclear, however, whether
these notices cover all situations of interest to researchers (e.g.,
large-scale packet trace collection). Even if a university obtains broad
consent to monitors its network users, administrators are likely to
give considerable weight to other institutional interests (e.g., student
or faculty backlash) that may cut against increasing researchers' access
to network data. An empirical study of institutions' policies
and practices could shed light on this area.
Making use of the provider exception to the Wiretap Act or the Pen/Trap
statute obviates the need for consent, but it requires coordination
with the appropriate officials within the institution that operates the
network. For large organizations, the key official is likely to be a
chief information security officer (CISO) and his or her staff. Convincing
a CISO that research that involves tapping into the contents of
communications on the institution's network is likely to involve more than
an assertion that an appropriately structured research project is
legal. The CISO will also want to ensure that the fits the
institution's mission and policies. It is here that attention to
ethical considerations may be valuable.
The question that researchers and institutional officials must confront
is: Even if it is legal to allow research that involves real-time
monitoring and analysis of communications, why should the
institution allow it? The broader background of communications privacy
law and policy provides a few answers.
First, research that fits within the provider exception is, by
definition, potentially applicable to protecting the institution's
network. A close relationship between researchers and staff with
responsibility for keeping a network operational may bring immediate
benefits-improved security-to the network and its users.
A second answer is based on a more basic look at the
interests that the Wiretap Act was intended to protect. Giving
cybersecurity researchers access to real-time communications
streams would do little to undermine these interests. When the
Wiretap Act was first enacted in 1968, and even when it was expanded in
1986 to cover electronic communications, intercepting communications in
real time was by far the easiest-and perhaps the only-way of obtaining
their contents. The advent of essentially unlimited storage of
email and other forms of electronic communications, however, has made
it possible for law enforcement officials and private parties to obtain
contents from stored communications. The individual informational
privacy interest is in the contents of a communication, rather than
the mode in which it was obtained.
In addition, the Wiretap Act was framed against the assumption that
a person might have one of a few reasons for intercepting a communication
without authorization, all of which merit some control under the law:
gathering evidence for a criminal investigation, gathering material to
embarrass another person, or simply satisfying a curiosity in the affairs
of other people. Cybersecurity researchers do not (or should not) pursue
these ends when they make use of real-time communications streams.
Instead, for the most part, they subject the communications to automated
analysis. To be sure, it may sometimes be necessary for researchers themselves
to examine the contents of communications to debug software, improve
experimental set-ups, or to explain anomalous or unexpected results.
Researchers should be frank about this possibility when discussing
proposed projects with institutional officials, and they specify
which investigators would have access to individual communications and
how they would keep the communications confidential.
3.2 Sharing and Publishing Network Traces
A second general problem that cybersecurity researchers face in the
realm of communications privacy is that of sharing publishing network
traces. The scientific bases for sharing these data are compelling:
common datasets can provide meaningful comparisons between competing
research approaches; simulated data are inadequate for some uses;
and existing datasets may not reflect present-day threats or traffic
characteristics [18].
The Stored Communications Act (SCA), introduced above, poses a significant
barrier to sharing these data. Some additional detail about this law
is warranted at this point.
- Entities Subject to the SCA. The relevant sections of the SCA do not
cover all network providers, but rather providers of electronic
communications services "to the public." Commercial e-mail providers and
ISPs generally are thought to be covered
by the SCA, while private businesses that provide Internet access to
their employees for work purposes likely are not covered by the SCA.
Universities may fall somewhere in the middle, or even have some networks
governed
by the SCA and some that are not. For example, if a university operates
an open wireless network, records pertaining to that network might well
be covered by the SCA. A research network that is available only to
students, staff, and faculty, however, might not be a service "to the
public"; and hence the SCA might not apply to content and records
pertaining to that network. To reiterate, the question of whether an
entity provides service to the public is critical; if it does not, the
disclosure provisions of the SCA do not apply.
- Disclosures regulated by the SCA. A service provider subject to the
SCA may not disclose content records to another person or entity without
consent (or the appropriate court order).
Moreover, a covered service
provider may not disclose non-content records to any "governmental
entity" without consent or the appropriate order. The meaning of
"governmental entity" is quite broad; it might refer to any
government agency and its employees [27], including
public universities. The term is not limited to law enforcement or
intelligence agencies and officials.
For those entities covered by the SCA, the prohibition against
divulging non-content records to governmental entities makes an
unrestricted public release of data a risky proposition. Putting a dataset
on a public website, for example, would make it possible for
anyone to obtain the data. Though a case could be made that this mode
of disclosure does not meet the statutory standard of knowingly
divulging non-content records to a governmental entity, researchers
(and their institutions) are probably will not want to rely on this
argument.
As discussed above, the SCA only applies to providers of communications
services "to the public." Others may disclose non-content records.
For these entities, the question becomes an ethical one that researchers and
institutions must confront: should they publish network
traces?3
The SCA's history and structure points toward some answers.
The baseline of statutory protection for non-content records is quite low.
The SCA primarily protects against government intrusions into the privacy
of non-content records, as is evident from the prohibition on disclosure to
governmental entities, which includes (among many other things) law
enforcement agencies that have the power to use such information to
surveille or prosecute individuals. Though the threat of government surveillance has not abated, private firms now rival, if not surpass, the government's
power to analyze network data at the individual level; and the SCA leaves
monitoring and analysis by the private sector essentially unregulated.
This legal structure allows commercial datamining, behavioral targeting
and other practices that are particularly offensive to some conceptions of
individual informational privacy to go forward. It is against this
background that sharing non-content network traces should be evaluated
in privacy terms; carefully anonymized datasets reveal
far less about individuals than organizations learn from the data
that they control and use for commercial purposes. (Compare Allman and
Paxson's description of anonymized packet traces and NetFlow records
in [6] with Solove and Hoofnagle's description of commercial
datamining in [22] and Solove's description of government
datamining in [21]. Yet public and private investment are
heavily tilted toward supporting these invasive forms of analysis.
A more general solution to the barriers to research posed by
electronic communications privacy laws would be to create a cybersecurity
research exception to them. A full proposal for such an exception
is discussed in [8].
4 Running Infected Hosts
This section discusses legal and ethical issues that arise in two
situations that involve running hosts that are infected with malicious
software. First, it may be necessary to allow attackers to remotely exploit
hosts in order to collect malware and observe the behavior of both
the attackers and the software [19].
Second, researchers may run malware in testbeds in order to observe
the software's behavior in a controlled environment.
4.1 Testbeds
The primary legal concern with running malware in testbeds is liability
from accidental exfiltration of malicious traffic beyond the testbed.
The exfiltration pathway might be a link from the testbed to the Internet
that is provided to allow users to run experiments remotely.
The Computer Fraud and Abuse Act (CFAA) would be the most likely
legal theory for holding researchers liable [2].
The CFAA
prohibits a wide
variety of conduct directed against essentially any computer connected
to the Internet. It prohibits not only targeted break-ins of specific
computers, but also knowingly transmitting a program-such as a worm
or virus-that damages another computer connected to the
Internet.4
Though this provision would appear to cover code that escapes from a
testbed, it is important to note that the CFAA also requires intentional
harm to another computer in order to find an offense. A researcher who
accidentally allows malicious traffic to escape containment is
highly unlikely to possess this intent.
An alternative theory of liability for exfiltrated code is based on
tort law, an area of common law, i.e., based on court-created doctrines
rather than statutes. One potential tort-based theory is negligence,
which is the doctrine that courts apply to compensate injured parties
after accidents.5
Another theory is nuisance, which would involve proving that the leak
of malicious code caused "an unreasonable interference with a right
common to the general public" [12]. A third possibility is
tort liability for ultrahazardous activities, which is governed
by a standard of strict liability. In contrast to negligence, which
requires proof that a defendant failed to take precautions appropriate
to prevent harm (discounted by the probability of harm), strict
liability does not involve any notion of fault: if strict liability
applies to an activity (a big if) and an accident occurs, the person
conducting the activity is liable for injuries to others.
These theories remain hypothetical; no cases have been brought against
testbed operators or users, perhaps because of a lack of accidents involving
testbeds. Still, should this situation change, each theory
discussed above would face significant hurdles. The negligence theory,
for instance, would require proof that the testbed did not have adequate
measures in place to prevent exfiltration. Since testbed designers take
pains to keep open a minimum number of channels of communication between
the testbed and the Internet, the chances of finding such a breach
of duty seem slim [10]. A second weakness, which also applies to the
nuisance theory, is that it is
an open question whether testbed operators or users owe a duty of care to
other Internet users in the first place. It is worth noting that none of
these theories have been successfully used to sue software vendors for
harm arising from security vulnerabilities in their
software [7]. Finally, strict liability applies to activities
that are, among other things, uncommon and pose a risk of accidents that
due care cannot prevent, such as blasting with dynamite in urban
areas [23]. Though running malicious
code on a testbed may not be within the experience of most Internet users,
one could argue that that is the wrong frame within which to
judge commonality: Internet users are constantly exposed to malicious
traffic. Thus, releasing malicious traffic might not be considered uncommon.
Strict liability for accidental exfiltration of malicious code from a
testbed thus seems unlikely.
4.2 Non-Isolated Hosts
Research that makes use of hosts that are allowed to interact with
attackers present a few additional legal considerations. One concern
that researchers might have is that allowing a computer to
become infected with malware that causes the host to join a botnet
violates the CFAA or other laws. Allowing the infection (or collecting
malware) itself probably is not illegal under the CFAA, as the researcher
does not obtain unauthorized access to another computer. Allowing the
infected host to communicate with an attacker via IRC or other means
is more subtle. The contents of the commands, such as instructions to
request data from a third-party victim, may not be illegal. But responding
to these commands-by sending a flood of traffic to an
innocent third party as part of a distributed denial of service attack,
for example-would raise the concern that the research system is
participating in an attack. Deciding on the appropriate balance between
collecting information and potential liability under the CFAA thus
deserves careful, case-by-case analysis.
A second question is whether researchers could be liable for data, such
as copyrighted works or child pornography, that
attackers place on their hosts. Attackers might even deliberately
target researchers with such materials, if they discover the identity
of a research host and wish to cause trouble for the researcher.
Consider the copyright question first. The concern for researchers is
that merely possessing an unauthorized copy of a work (music, a movie, a
book, etc.) could expose them to liability for infringement. This
situation could arise for researchers investigating peer-to-peer systems.
Under the Copyright Act (Title 17 of the U.S. Code), if a person takes
no action to infringe one of the exclusive rights of a copyright holder,
then there is no infringement. In this case, if an attacker downloads
infringing copies of copyrighted works to a researcher's computer without
the researcher's knowledge, then the researcher is probably not liable
for copyright infringement. This situation could change, however, if
the researcher analyzes the contents of materials that attackers
send. In that case, the researcher may become aware that he or she
is in possession of infringing copies; and analysis of the copies
could constitute infringement of one or more exclusive rights (e.g.,
the right of reproduction6).
Researchers would have a strong argument that such reproduction is a
fair use (17 U.S.C. § 107) of the work; but a full analysis of that
argument is beyond the scope of this paper.
Unless analyzing these materials is important for the underlying research,
researchers would be better off deleting such materials or preventing
attackers from downloading data in the first place.
Unfortunately, the solutions are not as simple in the case of child
pornography. Federal law makes it a crime to knowingly possess any image
of child pornography [3]. Thus, if a researcher analyzes
the contents of materials downloaded by attackers and finds that
child pornography is part of the mix, he or she likely meets the
definition of this possession crime. The law does provide a defense if a
person possesses fewer than three images, reports such possession
to a law enforcement agency, and destroys each image. This defense
is narrow, and a researcher who stumbles across child pornography planted
by an attacker should immediately contact an attorney. As
was the case with copyright infringement, the potential for liability
should make researchers think seriously about whether projects require
allowing attackers to store data on research machines.
5 Mitigating Attacks
Cybersecurity researchers may also find themselves in a position to
disrupt or mitigate attacks. After all, their research may yield detailed
knowledge of the workings of malware, botnets, etc. This raises
the question of what kinds of mitigations are legally permissible, and
which steps are ethical. For the most part, mitigation by researchers
raises serious legal and ethical questions and should be avoided.
To explore these issues, this section makes use of three specific
but hypothetical examples.
Example 1.
Suppose that a
researcher finds that a botnet command and control server is running
software that makes it vulnerable to a remote denial of service attack.
Taking this server out of commission might seem worthwhile because it
would help to disrupt the botnet, if only temporarily. But to the extent
that taking down the server would involve sending code or data
resulting in unauthorized access to the server, this action could be
a violation of the CFAA. (See footnote 4 above for the
pertinent text from the CFAA.) The fact that the server is being used
for malicious purposes does not matter to an analysis of the proposed
mitigation.
Example 2.
As a refinement to this example, suppose that messages of a certain
format or length cause the command and control program to crash; a
researcher (whose computer was infected with malware that the botmaster
controls) considers sending crafted messages to effect a crash.
In this case, the researcher is communicating via a channel that the
botmaster has selected; the botmaster has arguably consented to receive
messages from the computers enslaved in the botnet, giving the researcher a
stronger argument that the crafted message is "authorized."
Example 3.
A final variation to consider on the legal side of mitigation is
introducing bogus data (e.g., fabricated usernames and passwords, or
fake credit card numbers) into botnets or other networks controlled by
malicious actors. In this case, a researcher would simply place the
data on hosts that he or she controls and allow attackers to take the
data. This research design has the potential to allow researchers to
track the flow of data through malicious networks. Still, even bogus
data pose legal issues worth considering. The CFAA
prohibits trafficking in passwords with intent to defraud
and accessing financial records without authorization (18 U.S.C. §§
1030(a)(6) and (a)(2), respectively). Even if offering truly fabricated
does not meet all elements of these offenses other issues merit
consideration. For example, linking the data to an
actual brand name, such as a bank or a credit card network, could
raise trademark infringement or dilution issues.
There remain ethical considerations for mitigation steps that are legal.
Perhaps the most important consideration is
whether mitigation fits the role of a cybersecurity researcher.
Different researchers will view their roles differently, depending not
only on their personal beliefs but also the type of institution for
which they work. Whatever these variations may be, a point that seems
likely to be constant is that researchers are employed primarily to
study threats, rather than to take action against them.
Another ethical consideration is the extent to which mitigation (and
other forms of investigation, such as probing networks or running
honeynets) might harm the reputation of the researcher's institution.
Mitigation may be seen as an action on behalf of the researcher's
institution, and the researcher may or may not have this authority.
Furthermore, when mitigation would involve action against remote hosts
(as was the case with Example 2 above),
it raises the possibility of interfering with other efforts to
study or disrupt malicious activity, e.g., law enforcement investigations.
There may also be a risk of misidentifying the parties responsible for
malicious activity; or imperfect or ineffective mitigation might give
attackers the opportunity to improve their techniques. For these reasons,
researchers should be extremely cautious about taking steps beyond their
own networks to mitigate threats. At minimum, they should discuss
proposed tactics with IT officers at their institutions and, potentially,
with law enforcement officials.
6 Publishing Results
Finally, the topic of publishing results ties together many of the
issues discussed so far in this paper. The First Amendment to the U.S.
Constitution provides broad protection for publishing cybersecurity-related
findings, even potentially damaging disclosures such as
zero-day vulnerabilities.7
Unless a disclosure is part of an agreement with another person to commit
some other crime (i.e., it is part of a conspiracy), or is likely to
succeed in inciting "imminent lawless action" [26],
the First Amendment provides some protection. A publication that merely
provide knowledge that might help another person commit a crime is protected
speech [28].
The broad protections of the First Amendment, however, are subject to a
few qualifications. Perhaps the most important is DMCA's prohibition
on trafficking in devices (which includes software), the primary purpose
of which is to
circumvent a technical protection measure on a copyrighted work. Courts
have held that publishing circumvention software, and even linking to
a site that offers such software, violates the DMCA [24].
But it is unclear what level of detail triggers the DMCA. For example,
after a group of researchers that found vulnerabilities in a digital
watermarking scheme was threatened under the DMCA before presenting
their work at an academic conference, the U.S. Department of Justice
wrote in a court filing that the DMCA did not prohibit publication of
the paper or the underlying research [16]. Still, the prospect
of liability under the DMCA is sufficiently realistic that researchers
who plan to publish about vulnerabilities in software or hardware that
protects copyrighted works may wish to consult an attorney before doing so.
Publications also have the potential to harm an institution's reputation
by revealing network details that the institution would prefer to keep
secret. A strictly
legal concern that this raises is a potential breach of contract.
Suppose, for example, that an institution holds contracts that
specify a network configuration or bandwidth guarantee given to
transit or peering partners. Providing details necessary to allow
others to understand a data collection set-up or an experiment might
reveal that an institution is not living up to its contractual
commitments. Again, consultation with information officers in an
organization could help allay these concerns. Note that the objective
of this coordination is neither to alter the information in a publication
nor to force the organization to alter its practices; instead, it is to
give an organization an opportunity to identify potential conflicts with
contract partners and to plan for remediation.
The possibility that a publication will reveal details about an
organization's network also raises issues beyond legal liability.
Researchers should also consider whether the papers or datasets
that they publish could reveal information that could help adversaries
attack the researcher's own network (or other friendly networks). Publishing
datasets, as discussed in Section 3.2, is likely to
pose a greater risk to an organization's network than a paper; so
data releases may deserve a more careful vetting by IT officers than
papers do.8
The same principles apply to the privacy of users whose network use may
be discernible from a dataset. Given recent research demonstrating the
difficulty of devising robust anonymization
schemes [9,14], researchers
should be particularly forthcoming about privacy risks before sharing
data.
7 Conclusion
The legal environment inhibits cybersecurity research through outright
prohibitions and through uncertainties that make some experiments and data
collection and sharing efforts too costly to evaluate. Communications
privacy laws have also set strong social expectations that network providers
will maintain the confidentiality of their data. Though these expectations
often do not match reality, they may nevertheless provide a reason that organizations
cite to avoid the expense and legal and reputational risk of granting
researchers access to network data. Reforming these laws is on
the agenda of both privacy advocates and law enforcement agencies.
Researchers could participate in reform efforts (e.g., through scholarly
meetings and publications, meeting with policymakers, or testifying before
them) to make known how the lack of a research exception affects them.
This paper has also attempted to provide a sense of the interests
that the laws relevant to cybersecurity are intended to protect. The
hope is that this background will help cybersecurity researchers
make decisions about their activities in light of broader ethical
considerations. These considerations should include not only the
users whose activities may be reflected in network data, but also
the reputation of the researcher's own organization and the interests of
researchers who have supplied, or would like to supply data. More work
is needed to develop the relevant ethical framework.
Acknowledgments
I acknowledge support for this work from TRUST (The Team for Research
in Ubiquitous Secure Technology), which receives support from the
National Science Foundation (NSF award number CCF-0424422). I also thank
Deirdre Mulligan and Vern Paxson for many helpful conversations, and
Mark Allman, kc claffy, and anonymous referees for helpful comments
on this paper.
References
- [1]
-
18 U.S.C. § 2510-2522.
- [2]
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18 U.S.C. § 1030.
- [3]
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Footnotes:
1 Disclaimers: First, this paper considers
U.S. law only. Other nations'
laws are part of a more complete picture of cybersecurity research legal
issues, but, given the limited space available and the complexities
of U.S. law, it is impossible to address international law in a
helpful manner here.
Second, though the author of this paper is an attorney, nothing in this
paper constitutes legal advice. Researchers who
believe they are encountering issues similar to those discussed here
should discuss their individual circumstances with an attorney.
2 Many states have their own versions of these laws. In
particular, many have their own version of the Wiretap Act, and in some
states, the law is more strict with respect to consent.
In California, for example, both parties to a communication
must consent to its interception.
3 For the purposes of this discussion, it is assumed
that only non-content (i.e., packet header) traces are in question,
and that releasing the contents of communications raises insurmountable
privacy issues.
4 Specifically, 18 U.S.C. § 1030(a)(5)(A)(i)
prohibits:
[K]nowingly caus[ing] the transmission of a program, information,
code, or command, and as a result of such conduct, intentionally
caus[ing] damage without authorization, to a protected computer.
A "protected computer," in turn, means any computer owned by a
financial institution or the U.S. government, or any computer
used in interstate commerce. 18 U.S.C. § 1030(e). The interstate
commerce portion of this definition is sufficiently broad to bring
any computer connected to the Internet within the definition of
"protected computer."
5 A successful negligence suit requires
proving that (1)
the defendant owed the plaintiff and duty of care; (2) the defendant
breached the duty; (3) the breach caused harm; and (4) the harm is a
legally recognized form of injury.
6 Courts have held that copies made in
RAM may infringe the exclusive right of reproduction, even if no
permanent copy is made. See, for example, MAI Systems Corp. v. Peak
Computer, Inc., 991 F.2d 511 (9th Cir. 1993).
7 One exception is for classified
systems. Another is for systems examined under a non-disclosure
agreement (NDA);
a researcher might be liable for damages resulting from a breach
of contract if he or she publishes results that violate the
NDA.
8 These officials are usually extremely busy and have
limited resources; con vicing them of the benefit of collecting and
sharing data that could harm the organization may require considerable
relationship-building effort.
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