From: Sancho Panza on

"Mxsmanic" <mxsmanic(a)gmail.com> wrote in message
news:nr3ii5dp7vdk89u04nr2chfg40dvoqa3bh(a)4ax.com...
> William Black writes:
>
>> All this sort of stuff is freely available if it's made.
>>
>> That it isn't available means nobody is making it.
>
> How do you know it's not available? Where do you shop?
>
>> That nobody is making it means it can't be done yet.
>
> Even if nobody were making it, that would hardly mean that it couldn't be
> done.

Oh, it's been done for years:

"Most commercial RFID tags don't include security, which is expensive: A
typical passive RFID chip costs about a quarter, whereas one with encryption
capabilities runs about $5. It's just not cost-effective for your average
office building to invest in secure chips.

This leaves most RFIDs vulnerable to cloning or - if the chip has a writable
memory area, as many do - data tampering. Chips that track product shipments
or expensive equipment, for example, often contain pricing and item
information. These writable areas can be locked, but often they aren't,
because the companies using RFIDs don't know how the chips work or because
the data fields need to be updated frequently. Either way, these chips are
open to hacking.

"The world of RFID is like the Internet in its early stages," says Ari
Juels, research manager at the high tech security firm RSA Labs. "Nobody
thought about building security features into the Internet in advance, and
now we're paying for it in viruses and other attacks. We're likely to see
the same thing with RFIDs."

David Molnar is a soft-spoken computer science graduate student who studies
commercial uses for RFIDs at UC Berkeley. I meet him in a quiet branch of
the Oakland Public Library, which, like many modern libraries, tracks most
of its inventory with RFID tags glued inside the covers of its books. These
tags, made by Libramation, contain several writable memory "pages" that
store the books' barcodes and loan status.

Brushing a thatch of dark hair out of his eyes, Molnar explains that about a
year ago he discovered he could destroy the data on the books'
passive-emitting RFID tags by wandering the aisles with an off-the-shelf
RFID reader-writer and his laptop. "I would never actually do something like
that, of course," Molnar reassures me in a furtive whisper, as a nonbookish
security guard watches us.

Our RFID-enabled checkout is indeed quite convenient. As we leave the
library, we stop at a desk equipped with a monitor and arrange our
selections, one at a time, face up on a metal plate. The titles instantly
appear onscreen. We borrow four books in less than a minute without
bothering the librarian, who is busy helping some kids with their homework.

Molnar takes the books to his office, where he uses a commercially available
reader about the size and heft of a box of Altoids to scan the data from
their RFID tags. The reader feeds the data to his computer, which is running
software that Molnar ordered from RFID-maker Tagsys. As he waves the reader
over a book's spine, ID numbers pop up on his monitor.

"I can definitely overwrite these tags," Molnar says. He finds an empty page
in the RFID's memory and types "AB." When he scans the book again, we see
the barcode with the letters "AB" next to it. (Molnar hastily erases the
"AB," saying that he despises library vandalism.) He fumes at the Oakland
library's failure to lock the writable area. "I could erase the barcodes and
then lock the tags. The library would have to replace them all."

Frank Mussche, Libramation's president, acknowledges that the library's tags
were left unlocked. "That's the recommended implementation of our tags," he
says. "It makes it easier for libraries to change the data."

For the Oakland Public Library, vulnerability is just one more problem in a
buggy system. "This was mostly a pilot program, and it was implemented
poorly," says administrative librarian Jerry Garzon. "We've decided to move
ahead without Libramation and RFIDs."

But hundreds of libraries have deployed the tags. According to Mussche,
Libramation has sold 5 million RFID tags in a "convenient" unlocked state.

While it may be hard to imagine why someone other than a determined vandal
would take the trouble to change library tags, there are other instances
where the small hassle could be worth big bucks. Take the Future Store.
Located in Rheinberg, Germany, the Future Store is the world's preeminent
test bed of RFID-based retail shopping. All the items in this high tech
supermarket have RFID price tags, which allow the store and individual
product manufacturers - Gillette, Kraft, Procter & Gamble - to gather
instant feedback on what's being bought. Meanwhile, shoppers can check out
with a single flash of a reader. In July 2004, Wired hailed the store as the
"supermarket of the future." A few months later, German security expert
Lukas Grunwald hacked the chips.

Grunwald cowrote a program called RFDump, which let him access and alter
price chips using a PDA (with an RFID reader) and a PC card antenna. With
the store's permission, he and his colleagues strolled the aisles,
downloading information from hundreds of sensors. They then showed how
easily they could upload one chip's data onto another. "I could download the
price of a cheap wine into RFDump," Grunwald says, "then cut and paste it
onto the tag of an expensive bottle." The price-switching stunt drew media
attention, but the Future Store still didn't lock its price tags. "What we
do in the Future Store is purely a test," says the Future Store spokesperson
Albrecht von Truchsess. "We don't expect that retailers will use RFID like
this at the product level for at least 10 or 15 years." By then, Truchsess
thinks, security will be worked out.

Today, Grunwald continues to pull even more-elaborate pranks with chips from
the Future Store. "I was at a hotel that used smartcards, so I copied one
and put the data into my computer," Grunwald says. "Then I used RFDump to
upload the room key card data to the price chip on a box of cream cheese
from the Future Store. And I opened my hotel room with the cream cheese!"

Aside from pranks, vandalism, and thievery, Grunwald has recently discovered
another use for RFID chips: espionage. He programmed RFDump with the ability
to place cookies on RFID tags the same way Web sites put cookies on browsers
to track returning customers. With this, a stalker could, say, place a
cookie on his target's E-ZPass, then return to it a few days later to see
which toll plazas the car had crossed (and when). Private citizens and the
government could likewise place cookies on library books to monitor who's
checking them out.

In 1997, ExxonMobil equipped thousands of service stations with SpeedPass,
which lets customers wave a small RFID device attached to a key chain in
front of a pump to pay for gas. Seven years later, three graduate students -
Steve Bono, Matthew Green, and Adam Stubblefield - ripped off a station in
Baltimore. Using a laptop and a simple RFID broadcasting device, they
tricked the system into letting them fill up for free.

The theft was concocted by Avi Rubin's computer science lab at Johns Hopkins
University. Rubin's lab is best known for having found massive, hackable
flaws in the code running on Diebold's widely adopted electronic voting
machines in 2004. Working with RSA Labs manager Juels, the group figured out
how to crack the RFID chip in ExxonMobil's SpeedPass.

Hacking the tag, which is made by Texas Instruments, is not as simple as
breaking into Van Bokkelen's Sandstorm offices with a cloner. The radio
signals in these chips, dubbed DST tags, are protected by an encryption
cipher that only the chip and the reader can decode. Unfortunately, says
Juels, "Texas Instruments used an untested cipher." The Johns Hopkins lab
found that the code could be broken with what security geeks call a
"brute-force attack," in which a special computer known as a cracker is used
to try thousands of password combinations per second until it hits on the
right one. Using a home-brewed cracker that cost a few hundred dollars,
Juels and the Johns Hopkins team successfully performed a brute-force attack
on TI's cipher in only 30 minutes. Compare that to the hundreds of years
experts estimate it would take for today's computers to break the publicly
available encryption tool SHA-1, which is used to secure credit card
transactions on the Internet.

ExxonMobil isn't the only company that uses the Texas Instruments tags. The
chips are also commonly used in vehicle security systems. If the reader in
the car doesn't detect the chip embedded in the rubbery end of the key
handle, the engine won't turn over. But disable the chip and the car can be
hot-wired like any other.

Bill Allen, director of strategic alliances at Texas Instruments RFID
Systems, says he met with the Johns Hopkins team and he isn't worried. "This
research was purely academic," Allen says. Nevertheless, he adds, the chips
the Johns Hopkins lab tested have already been phased out and replaced with
ones that use 128-bit keys, along with stronger public encryption tools,
such as SHA-1 and Triple DES.

Juels is now looking into the security of the new US passports, the first of
which were issued to diplomats this March. Frank Moss, deputy assistant
secretary of state for passport services, claims they are virtually
hack-proof. "We've added to the cover an anti-skimming device that prevents
anyone from reading the chip unless the passport is open," he says. Data on
the chip is encrypted and can't be unlocked without a key printed in
machine-readable text on the passport itself.

But Juels still sees problems. While he hasn't been able to work with an
actual passport yet, he has studied the government's proposals carefully.
"We believe the new US passport is probably vulnerable to a brute-force
attack," he says. "The encryption keys in them will depend on passport
numbers and birth dates. Because these have a certain degree of structure
and guessability, we estimate that the effective key length is at most 52
bits. A special key-cracking machine could probably break a passport key of
this length in 10 minutes."

I'm lying facedown on an examination table at UCLA Medical Center, my right
arm extended at 90 degrees. Allan Pantuck, a young surgeon wearing running
shoes with his lab coat, is inspecting an anesthetized area on the back of
my upper arm. He holds up something that looks like a toy gun with a fat
silver needle instead of a barrel.

I've decided to personally test-drive what is undoubtedly the most
controversial use of RFIDs today - an implantable tag. VeriChip, the only
company making FDA-approved tags, boasts on its Web site that "this 'always
there' identification can't be lost, stolen, or duplicated." It sells the
chips to hospitals as implantable medical ID tags and is starting to promote
them as secure-access keys.

Pantuck pierces my skin with the gun, delivering a microchip and antenna
combo the size of a grain of long rice. For the rest of my life, a small
region on my right arm will emit binary signals that can be converted into a
16-digit number. When Pantuck scans my arm with the VeriChip reader - it
looks sort of like the wand clerks use to read barcodes in checkout lines -
I hear a quiet beep, and its tiny red LED display shows my ID number.

Three weeks later, I meet the smartcard-intercepting Westhues at a greasy
spoon a few blocks from the MIT campus. He's sitting in the corner with a
half-finished plate of onion rings, his long blond hair hanging in his face
as he hunches over the cloner attached to his computer.

Because the VeriChip uses a frequency close to that of many smartcards,
Westhues is pretty sure the cloner will work on my tag. Westhues waves his
antenna over my arm and gets some weird readings. Then he presses it lightly
against my skin, the way a digital-age pickpocket could in an elevator full
of people. He stares at the green waveforms that appear on his computer
screen. "Yes, that looks like we got a good reading," he says.

After a few seconds of fiddling, Westhues switches the cloner to Emit and
aims its antenna at the reader. Beep! My ID number pops up on its screen. So
much for implantable IDs being immune to theft. The whole process took 10
minutes. "If you extended the range of this cloner by boosting its power,
you could strap it to your leg, and somebody passing the VeriChip reader
over your arm would pick up the ID," Westhues says. "They'd never know they
hadn't read it from your arm." Using a clone of my tag, as it were, Westhues
could access anything the chip was linked to, such as my office door or my
medical records.

John Proctor, VeriChip's director of communications, dismisses this problem.
"VeriChip is an excellent security system, but it shouldn't be used as a
stand-alone," he says. His recommendation: Have someone also check paper
IDs.

But isn't the point of an implantable chip that authentication is automatic?
"People should know what level of security they're getting when they inject
something into their arm," he says with a half smile.

They should - but they don't. A few weeks after Westhues clones my chip,
Cincinnati-based surveillance company CityWatcher announces a plan to
implant employees with VeriChips. Sean Darks, the company's CEO, touts the
chips as "just like a key card." Indeed."
--wired.com


From: William Black on
Sancho Panza wrote:
>
> "Mxsmanic" <mxsmanic(a)gmail.com> wrote in message
> news:nr3ii5dp7vdk89u04nr2chfg40dvoqa3bh(a)4ax.com...
>> William Black writes:
>>
>>> All this sort of stuff is freely available if it's made.
>>>
>>> That it isn't available means nobody is making it.
>>
>> How do you know it's not available? Where do you shop?
>>
>>> That nobody is making it means it can't be done yet.
>>
>> Even if nobody were making it, that would hardly mean that it couldn't be
>> done.
>
> Oh, it's been done for years:
>
<Badly written magazine article snipped>

Not at any range and not covertly.

And wandering the book shelves of a library with a laptop isn't 'covert'...


--
William Black

"Any number under six"

The answer given by Englishman Richard Peeke when asked by the Duke of
Medina Sidonia how many Spanish sword and buckler men he could beat
single handed with a quarterstaff.
From: Mxsmanic on
William Black writes:

> Not at any range and not covertly.

The article describes a large number of proofs of concept.

> And wandering the book shelves of a library with a laptop isn't 'covert'...

But doing it with a PDA in your pocket is.

In summary, it can be done, and it has been done. The security of RFID is
poor, and what little security it provides is easy to overcome.
From: William Black on
Mxsmanic wrote:
> William Black writes:
>
>> Not at any range and not covertly.
>
> The article describes a large number of proofs of concept.
>
>> And wandering the book shelves of a library with a laptop isn't 'covert'...
>
> But doing it with a PDA in your pocket is.
>
> In summary, it can be done, and it has been done.

No it hasn't.

So far nobody has been shown to do anything that isn't perfectly legal
and overt.

I'm not saying it won't be done, and it may well be done in the near
future, but so far nobody has done it, except possibly a major
intelligence agency, and you can't hide secrets from them whatever you
do...

--
William Black

"Any number under six"

The answer given by Englishman Richard Peeke when asked by the Duke of
Medina Sidonia how many Spanish sword and buckler men he could beat
single handed with a quarterstaff.