Hackers of the World, Unite! by John Schwartz Newsweek July 2, 1990 - Typed by Apple Adept It is not your average keynote speech. It's more like a call to arms. A couple of hundred software developers sit enthralled by Mitch Kapor, who dropped by their recent Ann Arbor convention in his private jet -- one of those nifty things you can buy for yourself if you happen to be the guy who wrote Lotus 1-2-3. The once portly computer star has shed 25 pounds lately through a determined combination of exercise and diet. He doffed his jacket and slipped on a convention T-shirt over his shirt and tie. While the fashion statement might be confused, his mes sage is not: there's a threat out there. Not computer viruses. Not nasty hackers. It's the Feds. Kapor first asks which members of the audience use electronic "bulletin boards" and conference systems. Almost all the hands go up. Kapor then puts the scare in to them with tales from the hacker dragnet (Newsweek, April 30). Law-enforcement agencies have stepped up efforts against computer crime (see below). Kapor beli eves they have gone too far. He cites police raids on teenagers' homes, with gun s drawn and family members forcibly restrained. He tells of widespread equipment seizures, and a raid that nearly shut down Steve Jackson Games, a small Austin, Texas, producer of fantasy role-playing games -- even though it was not a targe t of the investigation. And he talks about a student indicted on charges stemmin g from publishing a private telephone-company document in his electronic newslet ter; Kapor says that prosecution may violate freedom of the press. "The first th ing that happens is the government goes around busting a bunch of teenagers," Ka por complains, "and calls them criminals." The threat, he warns, extends to virt ually anyone who links their computer to others. Law-enforcement officials accuse Kapor of romanticizing crooks who are violating the rights of their victims, and most people still think that hackers are a big ger threat than cops. But the crackdown has spurred Kapor and such industry lege nds as Apple Computer cofounder Steve Wozniak to band together behind the new ge neration. Their goal: to protect the flow of information and innovation that hel ped bring about the personal-computer revolution. Within the next few weeks they will officially announce a new foundation, yet unnamed, intended to combat comp uter phobia and provide legal aid for some of those snared in the dragnet. The computer-rights movement has gained support on Capitol Hill, where Senator Patric k Leahy, Democrat of Vermont, has planned upcoming hearings on how far law enfor cement should go. While advocating some punishment for lawbreakers, Leahy adds, "We cannot unduly inhibit the 13-year-old who, if left to experiment today, may tomorrow develop the telecommunications or computer technology to lead the Unite d States in the 21st century. He represents our future and our best hope to rema in a technologically competitive nation." It's not that Kapor thanks he's defending choirboys. Although some hackers insis t they should be able to traipse digitally wherever they please, Kapor says that trespassers should be prosecuted -- "I don't want people breaking in where they don't belong." But he says the zealousness of the investigations is out of prop ortion to the threat. To Kapor, there is more at stake than keeping a bunch of t eenagers out of jail. He cites the case of Craig Neidorf, the University of Miss ouri student indicted after his electronic newsletter, Phrack, featured the priv ate telephone-company document. If the government is right in Neidorf's case, sa ys Kapor attorney Terry Gross, The New York Times could have had its printing pr esses confiscated for publishing the Pentagon Papers. "It's very, very clear Fir st Amendment implications should threaten all traditional media," says Gross -- whose firm, Rabinowitz, Boudin, Standard, Krinsky and Lieberman, represented Pen tagon Papers leaker Daniel Ellsberg. Not everyone is singing along with Mitch. Software companies, long angry over "p iracy" (passing around bootleg copies of programs), are glad to see the authorit ies cracking down. Ken Wasch, executive director of the Software Publishers Asso ciation, calls Kapor a friend, but says, "For Mitch to believe that there is a g overnment-sponsored witch hunt going on is completely without foundation." Gail Thackeray, an Arizona assistant attorney general who deals with high-tech crime, insists the authorities are being mindful of civil rights. She predicts that wh en the facts come out at the various trials, the cops will be vindicated: "Some of these people who are loudest on the bandwagon may just slink back into the background." Thackeray dismisses claims that prosecution will shut down legitimate computer networks; she speaks approvingly of one former hacker who told agents he had quit as word spread of the raids. "That's not, to me, a constitutionally suspect chilling effect," she says. "That's what we in law enforcement call a "deterrent'." If Kapor's stance seems surprising, he's used to surprising people. His 1-2-3 bu ndle of business tools was an overnight hit, making in a multimillionaire. Once his Lotus Development Corp. became a giant, he shocked the industry again by wal king away; Lotus, he says, had outgrown its innovative beginnings. "Most of what you do in business is business," he explains. "I'm interested in business as a medium for creating products." He is now creating products again at his new firm, Cambridge, Massachusetts-based On Technology. Kapor developed the idea for the computer foundation with John Perry Barlow, a w riter and self-described "professional techno-crank." Barlow says hackers typica lly try to sound more dangerous than they really are, a kind of digital vogueing. He says most live by a "hacker ethic" described by a Phrack essay. The piece tells prospective hackers to do no harm, because "The thrill of a hack is not in breaking the law, it is in the pursuit of knowledge." Barlow says if this weren't the case, there would be even more damage to computers. With the outlines of the organization sketched out, Kapor began calling on frien ds in the industry. While some have been reluctant, there was one instant conver t: Apple cofounder Wozniak. Like Kapor, Wozniak walked away from his company when it grew too far past its funky beginnings. He has since put on rock concerts, gone back for his college degree and taken stabs at high-tech ventures. Wozniak says a little mischief is important to the quest for knowledge. He credits his college experience building "blue boxes" (devices for making free phone calls) wi th honing his hardware-design skills. He compares electronic trespass to driving a few miles per hour over the speed limit. There are people who never break any such rules, he says, but adds, "do you think I'd want my son to turn out like that, or marry one? I'd still support him, but ... I kinda hope he has a more fun life." "Woz" pledged to match Kapor's contribution, which helped put the initial funding over $150,000. Kapor, captain of his high-school math team, has thrown in his lot with the nerds. He and his allies are attempting nothing less than to keep the ideals of the computer revolution alive. They hope to turn around a public increasingly resent ful of computers and the people who are adept at using them. "You've got a lot of people who don't understand the present," Barlow says, "and in the absence of understanding, default to fear ... The real disease here is future shock." Somebody has to stand up for the pencil-necked and pimply. Luckily for them, the men who have chose to do so are filthy rich. ____________ Great Moments in Mischief (side box) The word "hacker" once meant any dedicated programmer; lately it's taken on a criminal tone. Some events that got us from there to here: o September 1970: John Draper makes free calls with a cereal-box whistle that matches AT&T's tones. Hence his nom de hack: Captain Crunch. o 1986: The Computer Fraud and Abuse Act passes, toughening police powers against hackers. o February 1990: Four indictments in an alleged scheme authorities say endangered 911 service. They cite a group calling itself "Legion of Doom." o May 1990: Robert T. Morris Jr. is found guilty of setting loose a "worm" program that stilled thousands of linked computers in November 1988. His senten ce includes no jail time. o May 1990: Operation Sundevil, one of several antihacker investigations, seizes 42 computer and 23,000 floppy disks in 14 cities with four arrests.