Category Archives: Security

Journalist severly beaten after revealing illegal oil sales

The Committee to Protect Journalists reports that Iren Karman was nearly killed:

Karman, 40, published a book last year on corrupt oil dealings in the 1990s. The book, titled Facing the Mafia, reported on the practice of “oil bleaching� or the removing of red dye from government-subsidized heating oil in order to sell it as diesel at a higher price, according to local and international press reports. The dye was used to identify the oil.

Karman’s investigations, collected both in her book and a soon-to-be-released documentary film titled “Oiled Relations,� implicate Hungarian politicians and police officials in collecting unlawful profits from the scheme, the MTI said. Hungarian media have reported that the illegal profits amount to more than US$500 million, The Associated Press said.

The police tasked with investigating the dye treatment and illegal oil sales all seemed to end up with links back to organized crime, so the prosecution apparently never went anywhere. The unusual thing is that, with her book published and a movie on its way, an attempt to murder her will bring a spotlight to the issue.

The report mentions she has been under threat — her papers and other media targeted in an attack — since last year, but that police “did not make the link” to the subject of her research.

A former chief inspector, Tibor Karancsi, who contributed to her work suggests that she is likely to have put faith in publicity as a form of protection. It is hard to argue with that perspective, when the police and justice system are potentially in the pocket of the accused.

Just a few weeks ago I was sitting in a cafe with her and Istvan Sandor. I told her than that she should take care because people wished her ill. I said, jokingly: “Don’t use the rear-view mirrors just for doing your make-up.” But Iren knew very well that my concerns were well-founded.

Did you expect something like what happened on Friday evening?

It was a possibility, but I didn’t think they’d go that far. I thought publicity would serve as a kind of protection. Back then, five of my colleagues were killed in mysterious circumstances over two years, but nobody died after I brought the affair to public attention. I was threatened, too, I was even beaten, like Iren, in 1997.

At the end of the day you have to wonder why some systems are setup with a clear financial reward to those who cheat, and at the same time offer no protection for those who report on the cheating or who are given the unfortunate task of trying to prevent it from happening.

Also, some economic and political analysis is missing from these reports. Did the demand for heating oil, artificially driven by the diversion of oil to engines, ever have an impact on the availability?

A similar but different scenario is emerging today in India, where coins are illegally diverted to the razor blade industry.

Police say that initially the smugglers took coins into Bangladesh and then melted them down, but as the scale of the operation has increased, more and more criminals in India are melting them down first, and then selling them as razor blades.

Sharp investors? Sorry, couldn’t resist.

The impact of the diversion is creating a whole new set of problems and, unlike the report on Hungary, there are solutions discussed:

To deal with the coin shortage, some tea gardens in the north-eastern state of Assam have resorted to issuing cardboard coin-slips to their workers.

The denomination is marked on these slips and they are used for buying and selling within the gardens.

The cardboard coins are the same size as the real ones and their value is marked on them.

I guess most people would agree it is easier to work around currency shortages, through bartering or apparently even issuing proxy currency, than face an oil shortage. Cardboard coins, eh? Now there’s a system built on trust.

Organized crime clearly will target the things most likely to be monopolistic by design — defense, trash collection, utilities, fuel — and use its muscle to set itself up as a shadow or even backer of the public authority. These stories thus remind me that bio-diesel and other oil recycling systems could radically change that paradigm and produce a whole new area of risk for those proposing alternatives to a petroleum-based economy.

Motley Crue’s Nikki Sixx on Risk

I couldn’t help but notice the perspective Sixx puts on his latest work:

“We have managers and record company people saying that there was this massive machine and nobody was willing to take it off the road and fix the broken wheel,” he said. “It would have cost them money. It was more important to keep the business rolling than confronting me. I was left out there to die. ‘Hey, let him shoot up, and don’t ruffle his feathers. I want my 15%.’ That’s how it works.”

Sound familiar? How many industries do not operate in this fashion? Ends justifies the means. The bigger question, perhaps, is how he would suggest it change. Regulations?

Here is an interesting twist to the story:

A portion of the proceeds from the book will go to Running Wild in the Night, a fund-raising initiative for Covenant House California, which aids struggling youth. “Heroin” will be accompanied with what Sixx calls “a soundtrack,” an album of songs inspired by the book and recorded with his band Sixx:AM.

Sixx is aware that many fans will be more drawn to the “Behind the Music”-like tales of the book rather than the look at a junkie caught up in a music machine.

“You have to be drawn to the car race because you think there’s going to be a car crash,” he says. “So if that’s what it takes, fine. If people want to read this book to see how fucked up my life was, and to see how many drugs I took, and to read about my crazy sexcapades, then fine. But in the end, every time the book sells, it’s going to put money into a bank account to keep some kids off the street.”

Sounds good, sort of…isn’t that more ends justifies the means? It doesn’t always work out so well, as in the case where the car crash actually kills the people who are trying to contribute.

Whale-Feces Research and Security

Here is a funny perspective on the life of the security response staff at Microsoft:

What do whale-feces researchers, hazmat divers, and employees of Microsoft’s Security Response Center have in common? They all made Popular Science magazine’s 2007 list of the absolute worst jobs in science.

Come on now. Whale-feces research can’t be that bad, can it?

Popular Science says “we salute the men and women who do what no salary can adequately reward”. However, the Microsoft employees quoted in InfoWorld hardly give any indication that they lack satisfaction:

Microsoft’s Mark Griesi considers ranking among the worst as a badge of honor, in part because his grandfather read the story and thought it was “pretty cool to see my team on the list,” he said.

Look gramps, no security!

Dover Beach

by Matthew Arnold (1822-1888)

The sea is calm to-night.
The tide is full, the moon lies fair
Upon the straits; on the French coast the light
Gleams and is gone; the cliffs of England stand;
Glimmering and vast, out in the tranquil bay.
Come to the window, sweet is the night-air!
Only, from the long line of spray
Where the sea meets the moon-blanched land,
Listen! you hear the grating roar
Of pebbles which the waves draw back, and fling,
At their return, up the high strand,
Begin, and cease, and then again begin,
With tremulous cadence slow, and bring
The eternal note of sadness in.

Sophocles long ago
Heard it on the A gaean, and it brought
Into his mind the turbid ebb and flow
Of human misery; we
Find also in the sound a thought,
Hearing it by this distant northern sea.

The Sea of Faith
Was once, too, at the full, and round earth’s shore
Lay like the folds of a bright girdle furled.
But now I only hear
Its melancholy, long, withdrawing roar,
Retreating, to the breath
Of the night-wind, down the vast edges drear
And naked shingles of the world.

Ah, love, let us be true
To one another! for the world, which seems
To lie before us like a land of dreams,
So various, so beautiful, so new,
Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light,
Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain;
And we are here as on a darkling plain
Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight,
Where ignorant armies clash by night.

Why do the pessimists always seem to get it so right?