Hoff (and some others) have been talking a lot about hope and the future. Chris has dedicated most of his recent posts to making us think differently about security. To drop our archaic models of the past and look towards solutions for the future. It’s a noble goal, one I support completely. Dr. Eugene Spafford, a seminal figure in information security, is also dedicating effort to the cause. I’m firmly in their camp and believe that while we don’t need an entirely new model for security, we definitely need to evolve. Information Security has been little more than basic network security and antivirus ever since Code Red and Melissa hit. But that’s not important right now. The essential questions are, “will we win?” And “do we make a difference?” These questions are non-trivial and endemic to the human condition. Anyone, in any occupation, who is invested in what they do will frequently use these questions to position themselves in the world. For some an occupation is merely a way to pass the hours and pay the bills; these automatons contribute to the status quo, but don’t help society evolve. For the rest of us our occupation is an essential component of our identity. We define ourselves by our occupation, and define our occupation as we want to define ourselves. I’ve worked in public safety my entire adult life, and spent most of my childhood, purposefully or not, preparing for my strange career. Over the years as I worked in different positions throughout public safety, from physical security, to emergency medicine, to information security, I was challenged by difficult questions of conscience. When I started in emergency medicine, I had to reconcile the thrill of the job with the fact that I achieved professional satisfaction only through the pain and suffering of others. As much as I wanted to try that new procedure, or be on that big call, I had to accept that for me to exercise my skills, someone needed to suffer injury or illness. I reconciled such a potentially twisted mentality by realizing that it wasn’t that I wanted someone else to suffer, but I wanted to do my job and do it well. People will get hurt, sick, and die with or without my involvement; I was a professional and wanted to do the job I was highly trained for. If something was going to happen, I wanted to be the one to be there. As my experience and confidence grew, I also began to believe that the better I was at my job, the less that victim (or the family) would suffer. Physical security was similar, but involved some slightly more complex mental gymnastics, which every cop and (I expect) soldier experiences. While as a medic you relieve pain and suffering, in physical security you often inflict it. We all loved the rush of breaking up a fight or catching a bad guy. There is an undeniable thrill in being authorized to use physical force on another human being- not a thrill of sadism, but the same emotions evoked by the sports we use to sublimate physical combat. In those cases my goals became to use as little force as possible and de-escalate situations verbally. Violence was not the objective; it was the last tool available to protect others. I’d like to call it altruism, but the truth is there are visceral thrills and deep satisfaction in managing the challenges of emergency medicine, rescue, and physical security. I learned to accept this motivation without guilt, since the goals of safety and security called for such commitment. When safety and security become excuses to do bad things, that’s when a very bad line is crossed. But back to security. In information security we may not be faced by the prospects of blood and guts, but those of us “in the industry” need to accept that we make our money off the pain of others. There’s nothing wrong with this so long as we don’t take advantage of our clients. I’m not just talking about vendors; we in internal security also provide a service to a client. My personal philosophy around this is that I won’t lie or try to frighten just to enhance my own income, but I’ll tell the truth and charge what I think is fair value for my services. I also still perform some volunteer work for those who need the help but can’t afford it. Security professionals earn our daily bread from fear and pain (sometimes very abstract pain, but pain nonetheless). There’s nothing wrong with that, but it does convey a responsibility not seen in other occupations. The big question I haven’t addressed, one that underlies pretty much any occupation, is, “Do I make a difference?” Psychologically I believe all humans fundamentally need to make a difference. It’s hard wired into our brains. If we’re not making a difference, we have only one of a few possible reactions. We can disengage from that activity and find fulfillment in other parts of our lives, or disengage from life completely. As sad as that sounds, we all know people who don’t see the meaning of their life and instead turn to a never-ending trail of distractions. We can also deceive ourselves and create illusions that we matter; I suspect many mountains of bureaucracy have been built on such falsehoods. We can also seek satisfaction elsewhere; actively finding a new job or career. We can also do the absolute best job possible, fight the good fight, and try to rise above any limiting circumstances. As a paramedic I may have been the one who saved a few lives and reduced a little suffering, but the reality is that if I hadn’t been there, someone else would have been. In mountain rescue we operate as a team and it’s a group of 40 or so people, not some lone hero, that makes the save. But although I personally wasn’t essential, and the rescue would have happened