So sitting here at my desk having drunk my third coffee of the morning, I feel like I’m stringing together decades of stories — some gritty, some just downright annoying — to a tale of cybersecurity that (if I’m lucky) helps you steer around some of the potholes I encountered while typing this. I began in 1993 as a network admin before the main stress for us was making voice and data play nicely together, reliably, over PSTN lines and multiplexers — those big, clunky things that now seem like they were from the stone age. But that base offered me a front-row view on the development of network security — from war dialing to worms, and from perimeter firewalls to zero-trust architectures.
Here’s the thing about this world: It moves quickly, but some principles? They’re eternal. Like never underestimating the ingenuity of attackers, or creating password policies so complex that people end up resetting them nine times a day.
My true “come-to-Jesus” moment occurred in the early 2000s with the Slammer worm. It was a fast, brutal lesson, and it made clear how unprepared many networks even were for the simplest of buffer overflow attacks. I recall those nights of madness — patching servers by hand, watching for odd traffic spikes and panicked calls on the help desk.
It was a crucible for me then, and it would make me the sort of cybersecurity consultant I finally became years later.
Skip ahead to now: I have my very own security shop here, specializing in managed NOC, firewalls, servers and routers — stuff that provides a network’s strong foundation and protection. We recently worked with three banks on retooling their zero-trust programs, and that probably says a lot about where things are going.
Gone are the days when zero-trust was just a buzzword or a nice-to-have. Therein lies the essence of never trusting any user or device by default, even within the boundaries of your network. That means continuous verification, segmentation and tight access controls. But make no mistake — zero-trust is NOT chocolate, no matter what hell some vendors say.
But — and yeah, I’m that guy right now — I’m still wary of over-hyped AI-powered security offerings. Yes, AI can assist in detecting anomalies or automating response. But what if you go by it alone, without somebody knowledgeable to watch over? You’re really handing the keys to a really cool hotrod to someone who can’t drive it.
I just returned from DefCon — it’s the best party on the planet for hackers and security professionals. The hardware hacking village? Mind-blowing. Watching experts tear through everything from routers to car ECUs also served to remind me of why I use cars as a metaphor so much when speaking — your network is, literally, an engine, complex and interdependent, and if one part fails, or is tampered with, the whole thing can come down screeching to a halt.
The latest trend? Attackers aren’t just hacking software anymore — now they’re going after the physical world. Backdoors in hardware, evil USB devices, owned IOT crap.
Okay, confession time. A love-hate relationship with password policies I have to admit.
Length and complexity do matter, to be sure. On the other, requiring that users change those incomprehensible complex passwords so frequently that nobody can remember them? That just drives them to writing passwords on sticky notes or relying on — you guessed it — Password1 — which is akin to locking your front door with a deadbolt and then leaving a neon sign that says, “Come on in!”
I always advise customers: leverage multi-factor authentication (MFA), and passphrases instead of the complex passwords that look a lot like license plate codes. Think of your password as the secret sauce in a cooking recipe — too many contradictory ingredients, and the dish comes out badly, keep it balanced, memorable, but strong.
In retrospect — to 1993, the chaos of the Slammer worm, the days of assisting banks to shore up their critical assets — I learned cybersecurity is a marathon not a sprint. It’s just patience, deep knowledge of your systems, and a willingness to change.
If I have learned anything, it’s this:
Security is not a gadget, or a single product; security is a way of thinking. A culture. And yes, it requires effort and investment. But the alternative? Risk and regret.
Thanks for reading — here’s coffee No. 4.