Joe: A single disgruntled employee at a Texas car dealership used a simple password to remotely disable over 100 cars, leaving people stranded on highways. Their horns started blaring uncontrollably at 3 AM. This wasn't a movie; it was a Tuesday. Lewis: Wait, a hundred cars? Just like that? He just… turned them off from his couch? That’s absolutely wild. It sounds like a prank from a superhero movie, but with much more serious consequences. Joe: It’s the perfect, terrifying entry point into the world that Marc Goodman lays out in his New York Times bestseller, Future Crimes: Everything Is Connected, Everyone Is Vulnerable and What We Can Do About It. Lewis: And Goodman is the perfect person to write this. He's not just an academic; he started as a street cop and became a futurist for the FBI and an advisor to INTERPOL. He's seen this evolution from the front lines, from the street to the server. Joe: Exactly. He argues this kind of chaos is possible because of a fundamental vulnerability we've all accepted without even thinking about it. We've connected every part of our lives to the internet, and we've built this glittering digital world on a foundation of sand. Lewis: Vulnerability sounds so abstract, though. What does that actually look like for a normal person? I mean, I get that a car dealership can be hacked, but what about me, my phone, my life?

Joe: That's the million-dollar question, and Goodman answers it with one of the most chilling true stories I've ever read. It’s about a tech writer for Wired magazine named Mat Honan. This guy knew his stuff, he was tech-savvy. Lewis: Okay, so if it can happen to him, it can happen to anyone. I’m already nervous. What happened? Joe: One afternoon in 2012, his iPhone suddenly shut down and rebooted to the setup screen. A minute later, his iPad did the same. Then his MacBook flashed a gray screen asking for a four-digit PIN he had never set. He was locked out of his own life. Lewis: Whoa. That’s the digital equivalent of coming home and finding the locks changed and the windows boarded up. How is that even possible? Joe: This is the terrifying part. The hacker, a teenager who went by the name Phobia, did it through pure social engineering. He didn't need to be a coding genius. First, he found Mat's billing address from a simple public record on his website. Lewis: Hold on, just from his billing address? That’s it? Joe: That was the first domino. He called Amazon, pretended to be Mat, and used that address to convince a customer service rep to add a new credit card to the account. Then he called back, said he'd lost access, and because he now had a card on file, another rep gave him the last four digits of Mat's real credit card. Lewis: Oh man. I can see where this is going. It's a chain reaction of exploiting human trust. Joe: Precisely. With that tiny piece of information—the last four digits of a credit card—he called Apple. He used that to "prove" his identity and convinced Apple's tech support to issue a temporary password for Mat's iCloud account. And once he had the iCloud account… he had everything. Lewis: The keys to the kingdom. Find My iPhone, remote wipe… everything. Joe: He wiped Mat's iPhone, iPad, and MacBook. He deleted his Google account, erasing eight years of emails. And then he took over his Twitter account. And the reason for all this digital destruction? The hacker told Mat later, "I honestly didn’t have any heat towards you… I just liked your [Twitter] username." It was a three-letter handle. Lewis: That is the most terrifying part of the whole story. All that chaos, all that loss, for something so trivial. He lost years of data, right? I remember reading he lost all the photos of his daughter's first year. Joe: Irreplaceable photos, gone. All because his accounts were linked together in a way that created a single point of failure. It’s the perfect illustration of Goodman’s central thesis: "Simply stated, when everything is connected, everyone is vulnerable." Lewis: And it’s not a vulnerability that can be fixed with a simple software patch. It’s a vulnerability in the systems we use every day, and in the people who run them. It makes you want to go live in a cave. Joe: It does. But what’s even scarier is that it’s not just about individual hackers with trivial motives anymore. This vulnerability has been weaponized and professionalized.

Lewis: Okay, that's a terrifying story about one hacker. But Goodman's book suggests this is bigger, more organized, right? It’s not just about lone wolves anymore. Joe: Exactly. He calls it 'Crime, Inc.' These aren't just kids in basements anymore. We’re talking about global criminal organizations that operate with the efficiency and structure of a Fortune 500 company. Lewis: You’re kidding. Like, with HR departments and quarterly reports? Joe: It’s not that far off! Goodman uses the perfect example: a company called Innovative Marketing, founded in 2006. On the surface, it looked like a legitimate software startup. They were based in Ukraine, incorporated in Belize for tax purposes, and had over 600 employees. Lewis: Sounds like a standard tech company. What was their product? Joe: Fear. They created something called "scareware." You'd be browsing the web, and suddenly a pop-up would appear, maybe with a loud siren, screaming that your computer was infected with dozens of viruses. It would run a fake scan showing all these critical threats. Lewis: Ah, I've seen those! They look terrifyingly official. Joe: They were designed to. And the software would essentially lock your computer, telling you the only way to fix the problem was to buy their "antivirus" product for, say, $49. It was pure extortion, preying on people's lack of technical knowledge. Lewis: So they were basically a SaaS company from hell? With customer acquisition funnels and everything? Joe: Absolutely. They used affiliate marketing to spread their scareware across the internet. And they were incredibly successful. In 2009 alone, Innovative Marketing pulled in $180 million in revenue. This wasn't a side hustle; it was a global enterprise. Lewis: That’s mind-boggling. They made more money than many legitimate software companies. It really shows how crime has scaled with technology. In the old days, a robber could hit one bank. Now, these guys can "rob" millions of people at once, all from an office in Kiev. Joe: And the organization gets even more sophisticated. Goodman talks about the creators of the Citadel banking Trojan—malware designed to steal online banking credentials. They had a full-blown Customer Relationship Management, or CRM, system. Lewis: Wait, a CRM for malware? You mean, like Salesforce, but for criminals? Joe: Pretty much! Their "customers"—other criminals who bought the malware—could log in, file bug reports, suggest new features, and get tech support via instant messenger. They even had a slogan: "Our products will be improved according to the wishes of our customers." Lewis: That is the most darkly hilarious and disturbing thing I've ever heard. They're A/B testing their malware. They're iterating on their product. It’s the criminal underworld adopting the Silicon Valley playbook. Joe: It’s a complete paradigm shift. And it makes the problem feel almost insurmountable. If you’re up against a global corporation with R&D, marketing, and customer support, what chance does the average person have?

Lewis: This all feels so huge and unstoppable. What can anyone even do? Do we just unplug everything and live in a cabin? Because after hearing this, that cabin is looking pretty good. Joe: That's the trap. Goodman says the solution isn't just better tech; it's better human behavior. He uses this brilliant analogy from security expert Dan Kaminsky, who says we are living through "Code in the Age of Cholera." Lewis: Code in the Age of Cholera? What does that mean? Joe: In the 19th century, people didn't know what caused cholera. They thought it was bad air. It took a doctor named John Snow to figure out it was contaminated water from a single pump. The solution wasn't some magical cure; it was simple hygiene. Stop drinking the dirty water. Goodman argues we're in the same place with technology. We have a plague of bad, insecure code, and we keep "drinking" from it. The cure is basic digital hygiene. Lewis: So it's not about becoming a security expert, it's about washing your digital hands. What does that look like in practice? Joe: Goodman provides a simple, memorable acronym: UPDATE. It stands for Update, Passwords, Download, Administrator, Turn Off, and Encrypt. It’s a set of basic habits. Update your software constantly, because every update patches a vulnerability. Use long, unique passwords for every site, managed by a password manager. Lewis: Okay, but who actually has a 20-character password for everything? That feels like a full-time job. Joe: That's why password managers are key. But the other points are even simpler. Only download apps from official stores. Don't run your computer as an administrator all the time. Turn off your Wi-Fi and Bluetooth when you're not using them. Encrypt your hard drive. These are small things that dramatically reduce your attack surface. Lewis: It’s about making yourself a less convenient target. Like putting a good lock on your door. A determined burglar can still get in, but they'll probably just move on to the easier house next door. Joe: Exactly. And the most critical part of this is the human element. Technology can't fix human error or curiosity. To drive this point home, Goodman tells the story of Cassidy Wolf, a former Miss Teen USA. Lewis: Oh, I think I remember this. It was awful. Joe: A hacker gained access to the webcam on her laptop and took photos of her in her bedroom, completely naked, without her knowledge. He then used those photos to blackmail her, demanding money and more pictures. Lewis: And all she needed was a piece of tape? A Post-it note over the camera? It's that simple? Joe: It's that simple. The most advanced hacking tool in the world was defeated by a 10-cent piece of paper. It proves that the human is both the weakest link and the strongest defense. The Stuxnet worm, which crippled Iran's nuclear program, got into a secure, air-gapped facility because one person carelessly plugged in an infected USB drive. Human error. Lewis: But on the flip side, a human with a bit of awareness can stop these things cold. It’s not about out-coding the hackers; it’s about out-thinking them with basic common sense.

Joe: That’s the core of it. The book is frightening, and it's received some criticism for being alarmist. But Goodman's goal isn't to make you throw your phone in a river. It's to wake you up. Lewis: Right. It’s not about becoming a paranoid hermit. It's about recognizing that our digital lives are physical, they're real, and they need the same basic common sense we apply to locking our front door at night. We wouldn't leave our keys in the door, so why use "password123" for our bank account? Joe: Exactly. Goodman's ultimate message is a call for digital literacy. He quotes H.G. Wells: "Civilization is in a race between education and catastrophe." The threats are real, they are growing, and they are professionalizing. But they are not unbeatable. Lewis: So the most powerful tool isn't a new antivirus software or a fancy firewall. It’s awareness. It’s understanding the game. Joe: That’s it. And that’s why this book, despite being a few years old, feels more relevant than ever. The principles are timeless. So the question we should all ask ourselves after hearing this is: are we paying enough attention to the digital locks on our own doors? Lewis: A question I’ll be thinking about for a long time. Wow. Joe: This is Aibrary, signing off.