I'm often asked who writes
computer viruses. The stereotype is of an antisocial, unathletic male
loner sitting in a basement late at night. But Sarah Gordon, virus writer
profiler for Symantec Corporation, has written
that the typical teenage virus writer is more than likely to be the
typical boy next door, with a girlfriend and often on good terms with
his parents. There have also been several female virus writers. A recent
profile
in the New York Times Magazine sheds further light on the
once-secret daily lives of a diverse gang of virus writers. Perhaps the most revealing look inside the
virus-writing culture, however, comes from an exclusive interview with the
self-confessed author of Netsky and Sasser, Sven J. Published in Stern
magazine (and available only in German), Sven's actions sound
suspiciously naive, more like some drugstore confession-magazine plot than
a craven attempt to take over the free world. Thus his "innocent kid
looking to do something good and finding himself caught up in something
really bad" defense just doesn't ring true, especially after he admits to
releasing 29 variations of Netsky,
and at least 3 variations of Sasser.
If Sven J. ends up spending some time in jail because of his activities, I
say, so be it. Virus author Sven J. speaks According to
the Stern interview, Sven J., 18, started writing computer
viruses only recently, in January of 2004, after he became fascinated with
the MyDoom
worm, which failed to shut down Microsoft's Windows Update site but
later succeeded in shutting down SCO Linux's home page. It was around this
time that Sven asked a friend if they could create something that would
spread more quickly and wipe MyDoom from infected PCs. First of all, the idea of a "helpful" virus is not
new. Secondly, any virus that seeks to remove other malware from an
infected computer is still, by definition, a virus. Back in 2001, Code
Blue attempted to remove Code Red infections. And last year, the Nachi
worm attempted to undo the effects of MSBlast; unfortunately, the
Nachi worm contained errors (such as the inability to distinguish between
Windows 2000 and Windows XP systems) and ended up causing a lot of damage.
Any code from the outside that enters your computer and changes something
without your consent is a violation, if not of your privacy, then of your
computer, at least. Apparently, Sven J. is so new to the virus-writing
scene that he just didn't know this. The Stern interview captures several of
these "gosh, wow" moments, such as Sven's admission that he wrote the code
that could later become Netsky in the basement with his stepfather, a man
who repairs PCs for a living, sitting on the other side of a wooden
partition, or when Sven tells of watching the evening news and seeing his
own Netsky virus mentioned, or when he hears the name Netsky and thinks
its a nice name for his virus (viruses are named by antivirus experts, not
the virus authors). Or when antivirus experts--me
included--publicly wonder if Russian text found within Netsky implies
East European programmers. "We died laughing," he grins, according to
Stern.But Sven's repeated claims of innocence and remorse
fall on deaf ears after he says, "I once wrote five variants in one
week...I did not do anything else." In addition to writing 29 variations
of Netsky, Sven has admitted to writing a couple of variations of the
Sasser worm, including the original. Ignorance is no excuse I am not impressed
with Sven's public mea culpa nor with his heartbreaking tale of betrayal
by one of his friends. Virus writers are often exposed through
carelessness, such as bragging of their exploits on IRC, or by putting a
link to their own Web site, as Jeffrey
Lee Parson did in MSBlast.b. Sven J. is no different. What really scares me, though, is that so many
people apparently knew of his activities yet did nothing to stop him early
on. Apparently his brothers and sisters, even his classmates at the
vocational school for computer science in Rotenburg, Germany, all knew
what he was doing. Only after Microsoft offered $250,000 did one of his
classmates, the friend he originally asked to help craft the antiworm
virus, turn him in. While specific charges are pending (German
authorities are currently building their case), Sven has returned to his
vocational school, sitting in classes with the very friend who betrayed
him. He wonders how he will pay for all the damages should anyone file a
claim against him. He wants to work for a computer security software
company and concludes, "I hope sometime to be able to live a totally
normal life." Do you think the law should be sympathetic to
first-time virus writers like Sven J.? Talk back to me.
Add your opinion
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