January 16, 2025

Cablevision and Anti-Efficiency Policy

I wrote recently about the Cablevision decision, in which a judge appeared to draw a line between two kinds of Digital Video Recorder (DVR) technologies. (DVRs let home viewers record TV shows and play them later.) The judge found unlawful a Remote Storage DVR (RS-DVR) in which recorded shows are captured and stored in the cable TV company’s data center, but he apparently would have allowed a Set-Top Storage DVR (STS-DVR) in which shows are recorded on a device kept in the customer’s home.

Why should the law prefer that recorded shows be stored in the customer’s home? The judge’s reasoning was that the cable company is more involved in an activity if that activity happens in its data center. This appears to follow from the judge’s reasoning even if the alternative in-home STS-DVR is owned and controlled by the cable TV company. But I’m not asking what the law says; I’m asking instead what it should say. Why should the law prefer STS-DVRs over RS-DVRs?

If the goal of the law is to protect copyrighted material – and remember that this was a copyright case – then you might expect it to favor solutions that are more controllable or more resistant to content ripping. But the court got the opposite result: Cablevision was liable because it had more control. The result will be more customer control, which is a benefit for many law-abiding customers.

The court’s ruling also has implications for technical efficiency. Central storage is arguably more efficient than set-top storage in the customer’s home, because of economies of scale in managing a central facility. The court’s decision pushes companies toward set-top storage, even though it is probably less efficient and offers virtually the same functionality as central storage.

It might seem at first glance that public policy should never try to increase the cost of a lawful activity, but in fact there are exceptions. It can sometimes make sense for policy to raise the cost of an activity, if that activity has benefits but can harm nonparticipants. Raising costs rather than banning the activity outright can prevent marginal uses while allowing those uses that provide greater benefit. Of course, if you want to argue that raising the cost of DVRs is good policy, you’ll have to make several assumptions about the costs and benefits of DVRs – assumptions that are very likely untrue.

Even before the suit was brought, Cablevision was already reducing the efficiency of its system in the hope of improving its legal position. For example, their storage facility had a separate storage area for each customer, even though it would have been much more efficient to use a single shared pool of storage. If 5000 customers asked to record last week’s episode of Lost, Cablevision would store 5000 identical copies of that episode, one in each customer’s areas. It would have been easy, and much more efficient, to store a single copy. The only sensible reason to keep redundant copies is that a system with individual storage areas might look to a judge more like a set-top DVR system, thereby bolstering the argument that the system is just like a (presumably lawful) STS-DVR. In other words, even before the recent ruling, legal factors were pushing Cablevision toward a less efficient implementation.

For the companies who filed the suit, the goal was not to serve the public but to maximize their own economic advantage. What they cared about, most likely, was simply establishing that one had better come to them for approval before doing anything new. By that standard, they must see the suit as a big success.

Software HD-DVD/Blu-ray Players Updated

The central authority that runs AACS (the anticopying/DRM system used on commercial HD-DVD and Blu-ray discs) announced [April 6, 2007 item] last week the reissue of some software players that can play the discs, “[i]n response to attacks against certain PC-based applications”. The affected applications include WinDVD and probably others.

Recall that analysts had previously extracted from software players a set of decryption keys sufficient to decrypt any disc sold thus far. The authority could have responded to these attacks by blacklisting the affected applications or their decryption keys, which would have limited the effect of the past attacks but would have rendered the affected applications unable to play discs, even for law-abiding customers – that’s too much collateral damage.

To reduce the harm to law-abiding customers, the authority apparently required the affected programs to issue free online updates, where the updates contain new software along with new decryptions keys. This way, customers who download the update will be able to keep playing discs, even though the the software’s old keys won’t work any more.

The attackers’ response is obvious: they’ll try to analyze the new software and extract the new keys. If the software updates changed only the decryption keys, the attackers could just repeat their previous analysis exactly, to get the new keys. To prevent this, the updates will have to restructure the software significantly, in the hope that the attackers will have to start their analysis from scratch.

The need to restructure the software explains why several months expired between the attacks and this response. New keys can be issued quickly, but restructuring software takes time. The studios reportedly postponed some planned disc releases to wait for the software reissue.

It seems inevitable that the attackers will succeed, within a month or so, in extracting keys from the new software. Even if the guts of the new software are totally unlike the old, this time the attackers will be better organized and will know more about how AACS works and how implementations tend to store and manage keys. In short, the attackers’ advantage will be greater than it was last time.

When the attackers manage to extract the new keys, a new round of the game will start. The player software will have to be restructured again so that a new version with new keys can replace the old. Then it will be the attackers’ turn, and the game will continue.

It’s a game that inherently favors the attackers. In my experience, software analysts always beat the obfuscators, if the analysts are willing to work hard, as they are here. Every round of the game, the software authors will have to come up with new and unexpected tricks for restructuring their software – tricks that will have to resist the attackers’ ever-growing suite of analysis tools. And each time the attackers succeed, they’ll be able to decrypt all existing discs.

We can model the economic effect of this game. The key parameter is the attackers’ reaction time, that is, how long it takes the attackers to extract keys from each newly issued version of the player software. If this time is short – say, a few weeks – then the AACS authority won’t benefit much from playing this game, and the authority would be nearly as well off if it simply gave up and let the extracted keys remain valid and the exploited software stay in the field.

My guess is that the attackers will extract keys from the new software within about three weeks of its availability.

Why So Many False Positives on the No-Fly List?

Yesterday I argued that Walter Murphy’s much-discussed encounter with airport security was probably just a false positive in the no-fly list matching algorithm. Today I want to talk about why false positives (ordinary citizens triggering mistaken “matches” with the list) are so common.

First, a preliminary. It’s often argued that the high false positive rate proves the system is poorly run or even useless. This is not necessarily the case. In running a system like this, we necessarily trade off false positives against false negatives. We can lower either kind of error, but doing so will increase the other kind. The optimal policy will balance the harm from false positives against the harm from false negatives, to minimize total harm. If the consequences of a false positive are relatively minor (brief inconvenience for one traveler), but the consequences of a false negative are much worse (non-negligible probability of multiple deaths), then the optimal choice is to accept many false positives in order to drive the false negative rate way down. In other words, a high false positive rate is not by itself a sign of bad policy or bad management. You can argue that the consequences of error are not really so unbalanced, or that the tradeoff is being made poorly, but your argument can’t rely only on the false positive rate.

Having said that, the system’s high false positive rate still needs explaining.

The fundamental reason for the false positives is that the system matches names , and names are a poor vehicle for identifying people, especially in the context of air travel. Names are not as unique as most people think, and names are frequently misspelled, especially in airline records. Because of the misspellings, you’ll have to do approximate matching, which will make the nonuniqueness problem even worse. The result is many false positives.

Why not use more information to reduce false positives? Why not, for example, use the fact that the Walter Murphy who served in the Marine Corps and used to live near Princeton is not a threat?

The reason is that using that information would have unwanted consequences. First, the airlines would have to gather much more private information about passengers, and they would probably have to verify that information by demanding documentary proof of some kind.

Second, checking that private information against the name on the no-fly list would require bringing together the passenger’s private information with the government’s secret information about the person on the no-fly list. Either the airline can tell the government what it knows about the passenger’s private life, or the government can tell the airline what it knows about the person on the no-fly list. Both options are unattractive.

A clumsy compromise – which the government is apparently making – is to provide a way for people who often trigger false positives to supply more private information, and if that information distinguishes the person from the no-fly list entry, to give the person some kind of “I’m not really on the no-fly list” certificate. This imposes a privacy cost, but only on people who often trigger false positives.

Once you’ve decided to have a no-fly list, a significant false positive rate is nearly inevitable. The bigger policy question is whether, given all of its drawbacks, we should have a no-fly list at all.

Walter Murphy Stopped at Airport: Another False Positive

Blogs are buzzing about the story of Walter Murphy, a retired Princeton professor who reported having triggered a no-fly list match on a recent trip. Prof. Murphy suspects this happened because he has given speeches criticizing the Bush Administration.

I studied the no-fly list mechanism (and the related watchlist) during my service on the TSA’s Secure Flight Working Group. Based on what I learned about the system, I am skeptical of Prof. Murphy’s claim. I think he reached, in good faith, an incorrect conclusion about why he was stopped.

Based on Prof. Murphy’s story, it appears that when his flight reservation was matched against the no-fly list, the result was a “hit”. This is why he was not allowed to check in at curbside but had to talk to an airline employee at the check-in desk. The employee eventually cleared him and gave him a boarding pass.

(Some reports say Prof. Murphy might have matched the watchlist, a list of supposedly less dangerous people, but I think this is unlikely. A watchlist hit would have caused him to be searched at the security checkpoint but would not have led to the extended conversation he had. Other reports say he was chosen at random, which also seems unlikely – I don’t think no-fly list challenges are issued randomly.)

There are two aspects to the no-fly list, one that puts names on the list and another that checks airline reservations against the list. The two parts are almost entirely separate.

Names are put on the list through a secret process; about all we know is that names are added by intelligence and/or law enforcement agencies. We know the official standard for adding a name requires that the person be a sufficiently serious threat to aviation security, but we don’t know what processes, if any, are used to ensure that this standard is followed. In short, nobody outside the intelligence community knows much about how names get on the list.

The airlines check their customers’ reservations against the list, and they deal with customers who are “hits”. Most hits are false positives (innocent people who trigger mistaken hits), who are allowed to fly after talking to an airline customer service agent. The airlines aren’t told why any particular name is on the list, nor do they have special knowledge about how names are added. An airline employee, such as the one who told Prof. Murphy that he might be on the list for political reasons, would have no special knowledge about how names get on the list. In short, the employee must have been speculating about why Prof. Murphy’s name triggered a hit.

It’s well known by now that the no-fly list has many false positives. Senator Ted Kennedy and Congressman John Lewis, among others, seem to trigger false positives. I know a man living in Princeton who triggers false positives every time he flies. Having many false positives is inevitable given that (1) the list is large, and (2) the matching algorithm requires only an approximate match (because flight reservations often have misspelled names). An ordinary false positive is by far the most likely explanation for Prof. Murphy’s experience.

Note, too, that Walter Murphy is a relatively common name, making it more likely that Prof. Murphy was being confused with somebody else. Lycos PeopleSearch finds 181 matches for Walter Murphy and 307 matches for W. Murphy in the U.S. And of course the name on the list could be somebody’s alias. Many false positive stories involve people with relatively common names.

Given all of this, the most likely story by far is that Prof. Murphy triggered an ordinary false positive in the no-fly system. These are very annoying to the affected person, and they happen much too often, but they aren’t targeted at particular people. We can’t entirely rule out the possibility that the name “Walter Murphy” was added to the no-fly list for political reasons, but it seems unlikely.

(The security implications of the false positive rate, and how the rate might be reduced, are interesting issues that will have to wait for another post.)

Judge Geeks Out, Says Cablevision DVR Infringes

In a decision that has triggered much debate, a Federal judge ruled recently that Cablevision’s Digital Video Recorder system infringes the copyrights in TV programs. It’s an unusual decision that deserves some unpacking.

First, some background. The case concerned Digital Video Recorder (DVR) technology, which lets cable TV customers record shows in digital storage and watch them later. TiVo is the best-known DVR technology, but many cable companies offer DVR-enabled set-top boxes.

Most cable-company DVRs are delivered as shiny set-top boxes which contain a computer programmed to store and replay programming, using an onboard hard disc drive for storage. The judge called this a Set-Top Storage DVR, or STS-DVR.

Cablevision’s system worked differently. Rather than putting a computer and hard drive into every consumer’s set-top box, Cablevision implemented the DVR functionality in its own data center. Everything looked the same to the user: you pushed buttons on a remote control to tell the system what to record, and to replay it later. The main difference is that rather than storing your recordings in a hard drive in your set-top box, Cablevision’s system stored them in a region allocated for you in some big storage server in Cablevision’s data center. The judge called this a Remote Storage DVR, or RS-DVR.

STS-DVRs are very similar to VCRs, which the Supreme Court found to be legal, so STS-DVRs are probably okay. Yet the judge found the RS-DVR to be infringing. How did he reach this conclusion?

For starters, the judge geeked out on the technical details. The first part of the opinion describes Cablevision’s implementation in great detail – I’m a techie, and it’s more detail than even I want to know. Only after unloading these details does the judge get around, on page 18 of the opinion, to the kind of procedural background that normally starts on page one or two of an opinion.

This matters because the judge’s ruling seems to hinge on the degree of similarity between RS-DVRs and STS-DVRs. By diving into the details, the judge finds many points of difference, which he uses to justify giving the two types of DVRs different legal treatment. Here’s an example (pp. 25-26):

In any event, Cablevision’s attempt to analogize the RS-DVR to the STS-DVR fails. The RS-DVD may have the look and feel of an STS-DVR … but “under the hood” the two types of DVRs are vastly different. For example, to effectuate the RS-DVR, Cablevision must reconfigure the linear channel programming signals received at its head-end by splitting the APS into a second stream, reformatting it through clamping, and routing it to the Arroyo servers. The STS-DVR does not require these activities. The STS-DVR can record directly to the hard drive located within the set-top box itself; it does not need the complex computer network and constant monitoring by Cablevision personnel necessary for the RS-DVR to record and store programming.

The judge sees the STS-DVR as simpler than the RS-DVR. Perhaps this is because he didn’t go “under the hood” in the STS-DVR, where he would have found a complicated computer system with its own internal stream processing, reformatting, and internal data transmission facilities, as well as complex software to control these functions. It’s not the exact same design as in the RS-DVR, but it’s closer than the judge seems to think.

All of this may have less impact than you might expect, because of the odd way the case was framed. Cablevision, for reasons known only to itself, had waived any fair use arguments, in exchange for the plaintiffs giving up any indirect liability claims (i.e., any claims that Cablevision was enabling infringement by its customers). What remained was a direct infringement claim against Cablevision – a claim that Cablevision itself (rather than its customers) was making copies of the programs – to which Cablevision was not allowed to raise a fair use defense.

The question, in other words, was who was recording the programming. Was Cablevision doing the recording, or were its customers doing the recording? The customers, by using their remote controls to navigate through on-screen menus, directed the technology to record certain programs, and controlled the playback. But the equipment that carried out those commands was owned by Cablevision and (mostly) located in Cablevision buildings. So who was doing the recording? The question doesn’t have a simple answer that I can see.

This general issue of who is responsible for the actions of complex computer systems crops up surprisingly
often in law and policy disputes. There doesn’t seem to be a coherent theory about it, which is too bad, because it will only become more important as systems get more complicated and more tightly intereconnected.