Feb. 18--To Mel Brooks, the difference between comedy and tragedy is easily explained. Comedy, he'll tell you, is when you step into an open manhole and die. Tragedy is when he -- Brooks -- gets a paper cut.
Privacy is like that, too. I want mine. But you? What are you hiding anyway?
Apple finds itself at the center of a privacy fight with far-reaching implications. Federal investigators want the company to create a backdoor to circumvent the iPhone security so they can access whatever clues about potential ISIS ties one of the San Bernardino attackers may have left on his device.
Tim Cook, Apple's CEO, is standing his ground. The company is defying a court order. He posted a letter arguing that while the company has "done everything that is both within our power and within the law to help them," this workaround is "something we simply do not have, and something we consider too dangerous to create."
Got it. If Apple creates a way to get past security and then, even if it's not eventually co-opted by hackers, people can have no expectation that their data is ever completely secure.
This is a multinational company, and if the United States government can compel Apple to sell out its users, imagine what China or Russia could do. Do you trust any nation or group -- or even Apple itself -- not to exploit such an opening?
Apple wants everyone to know it respects privacy. Apple respects people and their secrets.
The last thing Apple wants is to be seen as Big Brother.
Unless, say, you or someone else who doesn't work for Apple repaired your iPhone 6 and swapped out the home button.
Doing this disabled the fingerprint sensor that enabled users to unlock features by touch, forcing them to type in passwords. That was considered a fair trade-off, especially for people nowhere near an Apple Store, like a freelance photographer who dropped his device while on assignment for The Guardian in the Balkans.
But when the phone connected to iTunes and upgraded to iOs 9, the great gods of Cupertino reached down without any warning and turned the device into a paperweight.
It was called Error 53. The phone was bricked. Data and photos were lost and the phones were rendered useless.
Though Apple told The Guardian this was a security measure, Kyle Wiens, co-founder of iFixit, an online repair community and parts retailer, was among those casting valid doubts.
Wiens pointed out in a Wired post that an iPhone with its fingerprint sensor disabled would be no less secure than an iPhone 5, which never had the sensor in the first place. His suspicion was Apple was keen on discouraging people from using independent repair stores for anything.
The Error 53 trigger may not have been intentional, but Apple took its time overriding it, suggesting Orwellian style that those affected contact Apple support in the meantime.
Finally, Thursday, it issued a patch.
Apple is quite protective of its own secrets, too.
Remember a few years back when an employee left an iPhone 4G prototype behind at a Silicon Valley bar and it wound up in the hands of Gizmodo journalist Jason Chen?
Apple, then under Steve Jobs, alleged the phone was stolen. That gave authorities impetus to get a warrant and raid Chen's apartment, taking six computers, some cameras and other items.
Having scoured their files, the local district attorney would decide there wasn't enough evidence to indict Chen or anyone else affiliated with Gizmodo, but the aggressive response at Apple's behest sent a very clear message: Mess with Apple at your own peril.
The San Bernardino case is a tough call on just about every level, despite the ease with which some can pick a side.
The United States government and Apple are great allies to have and terrible enemies to make. Both usually do what they want, largely with impunity. Each can assert it is serving the public interest with its stance.
Each also can be accused of putting its own interests first.
But who doesn't?
philrosenthal@tribpub.com
