Can #MeToo Change the Toxic Culture of Sexism and Harassment at Cybersecurity Conferences?
Ava
Kofman, The Intercept, June 19 2018
Tuutti can’t remember all the times she’s been harassed.
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Illustration:
Angie Wang for The Intercept |
prominent information technology journalist and editor, Tuutti feels that her
friendly and outgoing personality — a necessity in her line of work — has often
been misinterpreted by men in her field as an invitation for inappropriate
behavior, especially at top cybersecurity conferences, where binge drinking is
encouraged. Drunk men have often put their arms around her and her colleagues.
She has been asked out “a million times.” Someone tried to kiss her the first
time she met him.
April, at RSA, a leading cybersecurity conference held in San Francisco, she
was walking the showroom with a male colleague when a male stranger asked her
what she was wearing to bed. She noticed, too, that vendors at the show assumed
that she didn’t know what she was talking about and that her colleague did. And
despite organizers’ previous attempts to implement a dress code, many of the
booths featured “booth babes” — scantily clad models hired to attract men to
vendors’ wares. “It was so tone-deaf, especially in 2018 and especially in the
wake of #MeToo,” Tuutti said.
casual sexism Tuutti encountered at RSA is not atypical of big-league hacker
and cybersecurity conferences. While there are no precise statistics available
about harassment at these events, anecdotal reports like Tuutti’s have been widespread
and documented
for years.
Intercept spoke to nearly two dozen women across the industry who recounted
experiences ranging from uncomfortable to traumatic at conferences such as Def
Con and Black Hat, held each year in Las Vegas, and RSA, held worldwide. The
women who spoke to The Intercept had encountered a variety of offenses,
from suggestive commentary and drunken come-ons to groping and assault. Some of
the women, among whom are renowned journalists, CEOs, diversity advocates,
and hackers, said that even if their own status had shielded them from some of
the worst behavior, they had all heard troubling stories from younger
colleagues, peers, and friends.
The women
who spoke to The Intercept had encountered a variety of offenses, from
suggestive commentary and drunken come-ons to groping and assault.
new stories surface every conference season, said Kasha Gauthier, director in
residence for Community Engagement at the Advanced Cyber Security Center, and
yet little seems to change. Gauthier and others see the harassment at
conferences as part of a systemic problem in the field of cybersecurity. “To
me, it’s just even more of what I see in a boardroom,” she said.
many women who have attended Def Con and have experienced some form of
harassment,” said Chenxi Wang, a leading expert in cybersecurity. “A lot of
women will tell you, ‘I just brush it off and do my own thing.’ That’s fine.
But the question is, should we put young women through that? Should we tell
them, ‘Oh just toughen up, this is the industry?’”
within the field of technology, which is known for its gender bias,
cybersecurity remains a particularly striking example. At companies like Google
and Facebook, women make up about
30 percent of employees — and there are notably fewer of them the higher up the
ranks one goes. Cybersecurity is much worse. According to the widely cited Global
Information Security Workforce study, women compose around 11
percent of the industry and, at every level, earn less than their male peers.
More than half of women working in cybersecurity have reported discrimination.
cybersecurity conferences are more than just massive parties and prankish
sideshows. The events are crucial for networking, talking to recruiters, and
learning new skills. Sometimes conference presentations become news events
themselves. In 2015, hackers at Def Con demonstrated that they could remotely
take control of a Chrysler Jeep’s transmissions, leading the company to recall
1.4 million vehicles. Last year, the conference’s report from its Voting
Machine Hacking Village sparked a national dialogue on the security
vulnerabilities of electronic voting.
leading gatherings for key speakers and cutting-edge products, conferences set
the tone for what the field can and should look like. All-male lineups of
keynote speakers — which have recently been termed “manels,” rather than
panels, on social media — are still a frequent occurrence, as they were this year at
the RSA Conference. And even as event organizers claim that they are
taking steps to address sexism and harassment, many women still perceive a
general indifference to their complaints, which they say sends a message about
what kind of behavior is considered appropriate.
comes to conference season in Vegas, there’s all of this folklore about getting
hurt and that people shouldn’t come,” said Jessy Irwin, head of security
at Tendermint, a blockchain tech company. Irwin said she always goes to
conferences with a pack of women and makes a point of ensuring that those
who are new to the industry aren’t traveling alone.
months since #MeToo took off, women’s whispers about sexual harassment and
abuse have been transformed into vocal demands for systemic change — in some
cases, with material consequences. Not long before #MeToo began, so-called
cybersecurity rock stars
Jacob
Appelbaum, a former developer at the Tor Project and WikiLeaks
collaborator, and Morgan
Marquis-Boire, a cybersecurity expert, were asked to resign from
leadership positions following multiple allegations of sexual misconduct and
rape. (Appelbaum has denied the allegations against him. Marquis-Boire admitted
to rape and assault of multiple women in private messages with an acquaintance.
Marquis-Boire was the director of security for First Look Media, The
Intercept’s parent company, and sometimes a contributor at The Intercept. He
left the company for unrelated reasons before the
allegations against him came to light.)
women are hopeful that the growing legitimation of women’s experiences may
pressure conference organizers to take more pointed and effective steps to
address abusive behavior at their events. “I think people are more vocal after
#MeToo and feel more inclined to speak up and speak out if they or somebody
they know are experiencing harassment,” Wang noted.
however, are more skeptical about the possibility of a culture change. “There’s
been no reckoning that I’ve seen,” said Gauthier. “I think there should be, and
I think women are having those discussions, but that’s not where money is and
not where power is.” Some women told The Intercept that they are not willing to
risk yet another season of harassment to find out whether anything feels safer.
As women seem to be attending these events in decreasing numbers, there is one
matter in which they are all in agreement: Change is impossible so long as the
men in charge don’t step up to address the issue head-on.
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| Hackers examine a voting machine during Def Con, a gathering of information security professionals, in Las Vegas on July 28, 2017. Photo: Mark Ovaska/Redux |
the world’s largest and most famous hacker conference, started in
1993 as a goodbye party for a hacker network. It has since grown and
professionalized, drawing crowds of close to 22,000 people to a Las Vegas hotel
every August. Celebrated computer security experts mingle with NSA agents and
civil liberties lawyers. Attendees register by paying $250 in cash at the door.
There are around nine men for every woman in attendance. Other conferences,
such as RSA and Black Hat, have a more corporate vibe, charging registration
fees over $2,000.
describe an overall conference culture that promotes a “what happens in Vegas
stays in Vegas” mentality, with after-parties where attendees are encouraged to
drink as much as possible. They explained that there are often few
networking alternatives to the alcohol-heavy after-parties.
Con’s Hacker Jeopardy in 2016. The late-night game went viral on Twitter after
a cybersecurity expert posted about a request that contestants guess the size
of a porn star’s penis to within half an inch. Women dressed in skimpy clothing
served beers to an all-male group of contestants. In the Double Jeopardy round,
they removed pieces of clothing each time a contestant got a question right.
The next day, after conference organizers heard about online
pushback, they changed the rules so that contestants who answered
correctly could have the choice between sending a donation to the Electronic
Frontier Foundation or continuing to call for a woman to undress. Progress, in
other words, has felt incremental.
At Hacker
Jeopardy, contestants who answered correctly could have the choice between
sending a donation to the Electronic Frontier Foundation or continuing
to call for a woman to undress.
of these four conferences include both black-hat hackers, who work outside the
industry, and sometimes outside the law, to expose flaws on their own, and
white-hat hackers, who work within governments and corporations. Over the
years, when faced with complaints, some organizers have responded by describing
their events as harmless fun. Jeff Moss,
the founder of both Def Con and Black Hat, has defended
Hacker Jeopardy by appealing to tradition and the distinction, in his eyes,
between “sexy” and “sexism.”
Gauthier, a veteran infosec worker, heard about Hacker Jeopardy, she spoke to
one of the workers at the conference for over an hour. “The answer that I got
was that it was anybody’s choice to attend or not to attend, and can’t I
lighten up because it’s good fun?” she said. “People don’t understand that as
industry evolves, this is a professional environment, and this is not inclusive
behavior.”
problems are self-reinforcing: So long as conferences celebrate and reflect the
sexist status quo of cybersecurity, expanding the ranks of women in the field
will be a problem. Some conferences are reported to still feature more “booth
babes” than actual female attendees. One woman remembered attending a
conference with so few women that when she walked into the ladies’ room, she
needed to turn the lights on. Another recalled entering the bathroom and seeing
only booth babes in miniskirts and go-go boots.
for years, some organizers have kicked the problem down the road. Instead of
organizing the conferences to reflect a positive vision of what the field could
be, they’ve defended
their choices to have all-male keynotes by arguing that such talks are just a
reflection of the way things are. A statement that RSA organizers released
about their 2018 “manel” reads:
“A diverse speaking program starts with increasing diversity within the
technology sector, which needs to be addressed by the industry as a whole.”
stakes for more inclusive representation are high. Women are leaving the
technology sector in greater numbers than they are entering it. Computer
science is one of the fastest-growing fields in the United States, and yet,
every year since 1984, the number of women in technology in the U.S. has
decreased. Attrition is typical. Forty-one percent of women quit the tech
industry mid-career compared with just 11 percent of men, according to the
National Center for Women & Information Technology. The cybersecurity
industry has been projected to have 1.8 million unfilled jobs worldwide by
2022. To address this shortage, companies will need to recruit and retain
women, the Global Information Security Workforce study found.
be easier said than done. When conferences exclude women speakers, they send a
“clear message” that women are still not welcome in the security field, wrote Access
Now, a nonprofit focused on human rights, about the keynote roster for the
RSA Conference USA 2018. “This is a message that will be heard not only by the
attendees but by organizers of other conferences that look to RSA Conference as
a source for guidance,” the letter reads. “The bigger danger is that we could
see this message — and the mindset behind it — reflected in hiring,
development, and operational decisions across the sector.”
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| Audience members at the RSA Conference at San Francisco’s Moscone Center, March 1, 2016. Photo: Jim Wilson/The New York Times/Redux |
The
absence of women at conferences only strengthens the self-serving perception
for the majority-masculine field that there is a “pipeline problem” — that the
reason there is a gender deficit is because there are simply no talented
women to hire. It ignores the fact that talented women have already been pushed
away.
women say the problem begins as early as recruiting. Cybersecurity classes use
masculine language — militaristic talk of enemies, penetration tests. Partly
emerging from army and intelligence communities, hackers can be prone to hazing
and competitive one-upmanship, according to Sarah Clarke, a security adviser.
“It’s a culture of just being mean to new people and needing to ‘prove
yourself,’” Clarke said.
Long, a software engineer and diversity advocate, says that it’s not a stretch
to see a connection between the goals of hacking and its particular culture of
harassment. “The whole idea of hacking is compromising someone’s system and
having power and control over someone else’s computer or network,” she said.
Some women have recommended that the field might seem more welcoming if it
moved away from the adversarial language of warfare and instead, framed its
goals as a matter of safety.
told The Intercept that the tacit norms of the industry can make it seem as
though harassment is a problem of female sensitivities, rather than male
behavior. The unspoken rule is that women must learn to shrug it off and
accommodate themselves to inappropriate actions.
women interviewed said that the accumulation of minor incidents over the years
leads to their dissatisfaction with — or departure from — the field. They
recalled stories of inappropriate touching, lewd remarks, and business meetings
leading to sexual propositions. Nearly every woman interviewed said that, at
some point, they had been mistaken for a male conference-goer’s girlfriend,
even if they were one of the keynote speakers. When not being singled out for
sexual attention, they were ignored, dismissed, or asked where their boss was.
Like many of the women who spoke to The Intercept, infosec researcher Sarah
Lewis said it was not a single experience, but the buildup of small brush-offs
that drove her away from industry conferences where she wasn’t being paid to
speak. “Numerous times, I’ve been asked if the food is coming out. At
conferences I’ve keynoted at, I’ve been asked if I was one of the student
groups there. Most of the sexism I tend to see is people who mean well, but who
have an assumption that I don’t have experience and I don’t belong,” she said.
are a lot of cases of overt hostility,” said Amie Stepanovich, who manages
cybersecurity policy at Access Now. “I think what is more insidious sometimes
are the less overt cases: These are conference sessions where there are people
of color or women represented, but they aren’t asked many questions. Or
audience questions are only accepted from men. It’s not always overt examples
that drive people away. Oftentimes, it’s little things that send the message
that people aren’t welcome.”
“It’s not
always overt examples that drive people away. Oftentimes, it’s little things
that send the message that people aren’t welcome.”
women don’t have the privilege of being able to choose whether to leave their
jobs if and when harassment occurs. But when it comes to voluntary conferences,
it’s not surprising that after years of experiencing such incidents, women have
simply stopped showing up. Many told The Intercept that there were certain
conferences they would never consider attending again because of their
experiences there.
not showing up may be the safest and most sensible option for one’s personal
well-being, it can put women at a disadvantage professionally. As the
programmer and feminist activist Valerie Aurora has written,
“When you say, ‘Women shouldn’t go to DEFCON if they don’t like it,’ you are
saying that women shouldn’t have all of the opportunities that come with
attending DEFCON: jobs, education, networking, book contracts, speaking
opportunities — or else should be willing to undergo sexual harassment and
assault to get access to them.”
on the second night of Def Con, Emily Maxima, a programmer, and her wife, who
does not work in infosec, were inside the Caesars Palace Hotel waiting for a DJ
set, when a Def Con security guard — typically male and known as a “goon” in
conference slang — asked them how their “bribe card” was going. Bribe cards are
played like bingo: Attendees perform scavenger hunt favors for the goons in
exchange for prizes. “I only had one hole punched in mine,” Maxima wrote on her
blog years later. The goon turned to her and said: “‘We could punch
‘boobs’ for you.’ One of these volunteer security guards had literally just
solicited to see my wife’s breasts right in front of me in exchange for a hole
in my bribe card.” Maxima has not returned to Def Con since.
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The Grace
Hopper Celebration, a long-running conference named for a pioneering programmer, on Oct. 5, 2013. Photo: AnitaB.org/Flickr
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working across all sectors of technology have been fighting back against the
field’s entrenched gender bias. In 2014, along with a few other female
cybersecurity experts, Chenxi Wang started a social media campaign to ban booth
babes. One year later, RSA instituted a dress code in response. Wang said it
was a small victory: “They took a step in a positive direction, so we don’t see
overt sexualized displays. Even though you still see the occasional booth
babes, the overall tone of the show floor has become a lot more professional.”
response to the booth babe ban, Deidre Diamond, a veteran technologist, was
inspired to start a company called Brainbabe,
which tackles sexism and the skills shortage in the industry at the same time
by providing vendors with students from diverse backgrounds to work at booths.
tech have their own gatherings — from the Grace Hopper Celebration, a
long-running conference named for a pioneering programmer that draws around
18,000 people a year, 90 percent of them women, to Our Security Advocates
Conference, or OURSA, founded this April in response to RSA’s sexist lineup. In
2016, women began to organize a special event known as TiaraCon, separate from
Def Con’s main show, for networking, lock-picking (a popular conference
extracurricular), and resume-writing. Year-round, groups like the Diana
Initiative, Future Ada, and the Ada Initiative provide support for women in
tech.
Honeywell, CEO of the anti-harassment technology startup Tall Poppy, has
hosted a workshop in a Caesars Palace room apart from Def Con for the last four
years known as “Ally Skills,” which teaches attendees how they can work to
improve diversity in security. “There are folks in the field who do want to see
it become a more hospitable place for underrepresented people, and I feel
fortunate to be able to share tools and tactics for making that happen,”
Honeywell explained in an email. The open source
workshop, which was originally created by the Ada Initiative, teaches attendees
the tools to call out misogyny and bias. Slides ask attendees to brainstorm how
allies might respond to situations such as: “A woman you don’t know is standing
near your all-male group at a conference in your field. The conference
attendees are more than 90 percent men. She is alone and looks like she would
rather be talking to people.”
women say that separate events, while valuable, do not force the main
conference organizers to directly address gender bias. In fact, some say that
such events reinforce the message that harassment is a problem for women to
deal with on their own. Events that are separate cannot, by their very nature,
be equal, Irwin said. While she is glad to have a focus on diversity, she said,
“I don’t want the ‘girls’ version.’ I want the big stuff we do for everybody to
already have diversity in it.”
“What I
want to see is men calling out other men.”
women emphasized that until conference management puts the kind
of allyship promoted by Honeywell and others at the center of their
programming, it will be difficult to effect change. Men need to step up too,
Diamond argued: “I tell men this all the time: They’re the ones who are going
to solve the problem. There are nearly 90 percent of them. What I want to see
is men calling out other men.”
the most successful and effective initiatives undertaken to change conference
culture has been the development and implementation of written
policies that explicitly ban harassment. As the Ada Initiative
explains, the most
effective policies publicly specify what kinds of behaviors are not
acceptable, establish a reporting procedure with contact information for
violations, and document how the staff will respond to reports.
last several years, responding in part to the organizing work of feminist
technologists like those at the Ada Initiative, Def Con,
RSA,
and Black Hat
have each instituted clear codes of conduct that prohibit harassment and
reserve the right to expel and banish attendees engaging in unacceptable
behavior. The latter two have the most detailed of the four conferences’
policies, spelling out the nature and scope of harassment prohibited.
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Internet
activist Jacob Appelbaum gives a keynote address in Berlin on June 5, 2014. Photo: Britta Pedersen/picture-alliance/dpa/AP
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Last
year, Def Con became the first hacker con to provide a transparency report of
incidents, which it posted online this month. According to the
report, at the 2017 event, there were “7 harassment events,” including two
people “banned for life for harassing women.” The report also noted that
Appelbaum and Marquis-Boire were banned. (Even in its transparency report, the
conference kept things a little tongue-in-cheek, noting that there were also “3
adorable dog reports.”)
on anti-harassment policies say that the policies are still insufficient: They
do not specify channels for anonymous reporting of incidents, give a deadline
for how quickly the conference will respond to reports, or explain what happens
if someone in the group charged with enforcement is accused of harassment.
also not clear whether the code of conducts’ enforcement mechanisms prioritize
the safety of those who have experienced abuse. “It’s been my personal
experience that event staff are simply not equipped or qualified to be first
responders on these issues,” explained Melanie Ensign, a press lead for Def Con
and director of security at Uber, in an email. Outside of her official capacity
at the conference, she has been working with experts in the community to expand
resources available to survivors of assault.
general manager Steve Wylie told The Intercept that the conference’s policy was
developed in 2014 and continues to be a “live document.”
our industry has some issues, and we’ve developed programs to highlight the
issue,” Wylie said. The conference has been attempting to recruit and encourage
more women to apply to speak; new diversity initiatives include partnerships
with Queercon, a scholarship program for women, peer-to-peer mentoring, and a
series of presentations that address human (rather than technical) issues.
declined to respond to detailed questions for this story and sent a link to a
blog post addressing this year’s controversy regarding speaker
diversity. Def Con, which has not updated its code of conduct since 2015, wrote
in an emailed statement: “We are committed to being proactive rather than reactive
in the areas of representation and safety. This includes being available to
hear all concerns, making it easy for attendees to share those concerns, and
having a clearly defined, ongoing process for addressing those concerns. We’ve
invested in a reorganization of our volunteer staff, new training, and the
creation of an independent department for reporting incidents. … We will
continue to do what hackers do — make changes, see what gets better, and
iterate on the results.” For this year’s conference, the statement said, Def
Con will be introducing a dedicated crisis support line that attendees could
access by phone, text, or chat.
Irwin of Tendermint often feels surprise that in an industry that prides itself
on finding patterns and addressing vulnerabilities, the response to decades of
harassment has been slow-going. “How the hell can we claim to be good at our
jobs at work when we can’t get any of the people in our communities to follow
our best practices of knowledge?” she asked. “I want to see the response
process get better. I don’t know how we can call ourselves experts at security
if we can solve problems with code, but we can’t do it when it comes to
people.”





