Are my messages safe? No, but…

“Are any of these messaging services secure?”

Today brought another story about insecurity of a messenger app, and by a brilliant coincidence, I’m listening to E.L.O.’s “Secret Messages” as I start to compose this post. This article isn’t, however, about my closet 70s musical tastes[1], but about the messages you send from your mobile phone, tablet or computer to friends, families and colleagues, and how secure they are.

There are loads of options out there for messaging services, with some of the better-known including WhatsApp, Facebook Messenger, Google Chat, Signal and Telegram. Then there’s good old SMS. First question first: do I use any of these myself? Absolutely. I also indulge in Facebook, LinkedIn and Twitter. Do I trust these services? Let’s get back to this question later.

A more pressing question might be: “are any of these messaging services secure?” It turns out that this is a really simple question to answer: of course they’re not. No service is “secure”: it’s a key principle of IT security that there is no “secure”. This may sound like a glib – and frankly unhelpful – answer, but it’s not supposed to be. Once you accept that there is no perfectly secure system, you’re forced to consider what you are trying to achieve, and what risks you’re willing to take. This is a recurring theme of this blog, so regular readers shouldn’t be surprised.

Most of the popular messaging services can be thought of as consisting of at least seven components. Let’s assume that Alice is sending a message from her phone to Bob’s phone. Here’s what the various components might look like:

  1. Alice’s messenger app
  2. Alice’s phone
  3. Communications channel Alice -> server
  4. Server
  5. Communications channel server -> Bob
  6. Bob’s phone
  7. Bob’s messenger app

Each of these is a possible attack surface: combined, they make up the attack surface for what we can think of as the Alice <-> Bob and messaging system.

Let’s start in the middle, with the server. For Alice and Bob to be happy with the security of the system for their purposes, they must be happy that this server has sufficiently secure to cope with whatever risks they need to address. So, it may be that they trust that the server (which will be run, ultimately, by fallible and possibly subornable humans who also are subject to legal jurisdiction(s)) is not vulnerable. Not vulnerable to whom? Hacktivists? Criminal gangs? Commercial competitors? State actors? Legal warrants from the server’s jurisdiction? Legal warrants from Alice or Bob’s jurisdiction(s)? The likelihood of successful defence against each of these varies, and the risk posed to Alice and Bob by each is also different, and needs to be assessed, even if that assessment is “we can ignore this”.

Each of the other components is subject to similar questions. For the communication channels, we will assume that they’re encrypted, but we have to be sure that the cryptography and cryptographic protocols have been correctly implemented, and that all keys are appropriately protected by all parties. The messaging apps must be up to date, well designed and well implemented. Obviously, if they’re open source, you have a much, much better chance of being sure of the security of both software (never, ever use cryptography or protocols which have not been not open sourced and peer reviewed: just don’t). The phones in which the software is running must also be uncompromised – not to mention protected by Alice and Bob from physical tampering and delivered new to them from the manufacturer with no vulnerabilities[2].

How sure are Alice and Bob of all of the answers to all of these questions? The answer, I would submit, is pretty much always going to be “not completely”. Does this mean that Alice and Bob should not use messaging services? Not necessarily. But it does mean that they should consider what messages they should exchange via any particular messaging service. They might be happy to arrange a surprise birthday party for a colleague, but not to exchange financial details of a business deal. They might be happy to schedule a trip to visit a Non-Governmental Organisation to discuss human rights, but not to talk about specific cases over the messaging service.

This is the view that I take: I consider what information I’m happy to transfer over or store on messaging services and social media platforms. There are occasions where I may happy to pass sensitive data across messaging services, but break the data up between different services (using “different channels” in the relevant parlance): using one service for a username and another for the associated password, for instance. I still need to be careful about shared components: the two phones in the example above might qualify, but I’ve reduced the shared attack surface, and therefore the risk. I’m actually more likely to require that the password is exchanged over a phone call, and if I’m feeling particularly paranoid, I’ll use a different phone to receive that call.

My advice, therefore, is this:

  1. Keep your devices and apps up to date;
  2. Evaluate the security of your various messaging service options;
  3. Consider the types of information that you’ll be transferring and/or storing;
  4. Think about the risks you’re willing to accept;
  5. Select the appropriate option on a case by case basis:
  6. Consider using separate channels where particularly sensitive data can be split for added security.

1 – I’m also partial to 1920’s Jazz and a bit of Bluegrass, as it happens.

2 – yeah, right.

Cryptographers arise!

Cryptography is a strange field, in that it’s both concerned with keeping secrets, but also has a long history of being kept secret, as well.  There are famous names from the early days, from Caesar (Julius, that is) to Vigenère, to more recent names like Diffie, Hellman[1], Rivest, Shamir and Adleman.  The trend even more recently has been away from naming cryptographic protocols after their creators, and more to snappy names like Blowfish or less snappy descriptions such as “ECC”.  Although I’m not generally a fan of glorifying individual talent over collective work, this feels like a bit of a pity in some ways.

In fact, over the past 80 years or so, more effort has been probably put into keeping the work of teams in cryptanalysis – the study of breaking cryptography – secret, though there are some famous names from the past like Al-Kindi, Phelippes (or “Phillips), Rejewski, Turing, Tiltman, Knox and Briggs[2].

Cryptography is difficult.  Actually, let me rephrase that: cryptography is easy to do badly, and difficult to do well.  “Anybody can design a cipher that they can’t break”, goes an old dictum, with the second half of the sentence, “and somebody else can easily break”, being generally left unsaid.  Creation of cryptographic primitives requires significant of knowledge of mathematics – some branches of which are well within the grasp of an average high-school student, and some of which are considerably more arcane.  Putting those primitives together in ways that allow you to create interesting protocols for use in the real world doesn’t necessarily require that you understand the full depth of the mathematics of the primitives that you’re using[3], but does require a good grounding in how they should be used, and how they should not be used.  Even then, a wise protocol designer, like a wise cryptographer[4], always gets colleagues and others to review his or her work.  This is one of the reasons that it’s so important that cryptography should be in the public domain, and preferably fully open source.

Why am I writing about this?  Well, partly because I think that, on the whole, the work of cryptographers is undervalued.  The work they do is not only very tricky, but also vital.  We need cryptographers and cryptanalysts to be working in the public realm, designing new algorithms and breaking old (and, I suppose) new ones.  We should be recognising and celebrating their work.  Mathematics is not standing still, and, as I wrote recently, quantum computing is threatening to chip away at our privacy and secrecy.  The other reasons that I’m writing about this is because I think we should be proud of our history and heritage, inspired to work on important problems, and to inspire those around us to work on them, too.

Oh, and if you’re interested in the t-shirt, drop me a line or put something in the comments.


1 – I’m good at spelling, really I am, but I need to check the number of ells and ens in his name every single time.

2 – I know that is heavily Bletchley-centric: it’s an area of history in which I’m particularly interested.  Bletchley was also an important training ground for some very important women in security – something of which we have maybe lost sight.

3 – good thing, too, as I’m not a mathematician, but I have designed the odd protocol here and there.

4 – that is, any cryptographer who recognises the truth of the dictum I quote above.

Will quantum computing break security?

Do you want J. Random Hacker to be able to pretend that they’re your bank?

Over the past few years, a new type of computer has arrived on the block: the quantum computer.  It’s arguably the sixth type of computer:

  1. humans – before there were artificial computers, people used, well, people.  And people with this job were called “computers”.
  2. mechanical analogue – devices such as the Antikythera mechanism, astrolabes or slide rules.
  3. mechanical digital – in this category I’d count anything that allowed discrete mathematics, but didn’t use electronics for the actual calculation: the abacus, Babbage’s Difference Engine, etc.
  4. electronic analogue – many of these were invented for military uses such as bomb sights, gun aiming, etc.
  5. electronic digital – I’m going to go out on a limb here, and characterise Colossus as the first electronic digital computer[1]: these are basically what we use today for anything from mobile phones to supercomputers.
  6. quantum computers – these are coming, and are fundamentally different to all of the previous generations.

What is quantum computing?

Quantum computing uses concepts from quantum mechanics to allow very different types of calculations to what we’re used to in “classical computing”.  I’m not even going to try to explain, because I know that I’d do a terrible job, so I suggest you try something like Wikipedia’s definition as a starting point.  What’s important for our purposes is to understand that quantum computers use qubits to do calculations, and for quite a few types of mathematical algorithms – and therefore computing operations – they can solve problems much faster than classical computers.

What’s “much faster”?  Much, much faster: orders of magnitude faster.  A calculation that might take years or decades with a classical computer could, in certain circumstances, take seconds.  Impressive, yes?  And scary.  Because one of the types of problems that quantum computers should be good at solving is decrypting encrypted messages, even without the keys.

This means that someone with a sufficiently powerful quantum computer should be able to read all of your current and past messages, decrypt any stored data, and maybe fake digital signatures.  Is this a big thing?  Yes.  Do you want J. Random Hacker to be able to pretend that they’re your bank[2]?  Do you want that transaction on the blockchain where you were sold a 10 bedroom mansion in Mayfair to be “corrected” to be a bedsit in Weston-super-Mare[3]?

Some good news

This is all scary stuff, but there’s good news, of various types.

The first is that in order to make any of this work at all, you need a quantum computer with a good number of qubits operating, and this is turning out to be hard[4].  The general consensus is that we’ve got a few years before anybody has a “big” enough quantum computer to do serious damage to classical encryption algorithms.

The second is that, even with a sufficient number of qubits to attacks our existing algorithms, you still need even more in order to allow for error correction.

The third is that although there are theoretical models to show how to attack some of our existing algorithms, actually making them work is significantly harder than you or I[5] might expect.  In fact, some of the attacks may turn out to be infeasible, or just take more years to perfect that we’d worried about.

The fourth is that there are clever people out there who are designing quantum-computation resistant algorithms (sometimes referred to as “post-quantum algorithms”) that we can use, at least for new encryption, once they’ve been tested and become widely available.

All-in-all, in fact, there’s a strong body of expert opinion that says that we shouldn’t be overly worried about quantum computing breaking our encryption in the next 5 or even 10 years.

And some bad news

It’s not all rosy, however.  Two issues stick out to me as areas of concern.

  1. People are still designing and rolling out systems which don’t consider the issue.  If you’re coming up with a system which is likely to be in use for ten or more years, or which will be encrypting or signing data which must remain confidential or attributable over those sorts of periods, then you should be considering what the possible impact of quantum computing may have on your system.
  2. some of the new, quantum-computing resistant algorithms are proprietary.  This means that when you and I want to start implementing systems which are designed to be quantum-computing resistant, we’ll have to pay to do so.  I’m a big proponent of open source, and particularly of open source cryptography, and my big worry is that we just won’t be able to open source these things, and worse, that when new protocol standards are created – either de facto or through standards bodies – they will choose proprietary algorithms that exclude the use of open source, whether on purpose, through ignorance, or because few good alternatives are available.

What to do?

Luckily, there are things you can do to address both of the issues above.  The first is to think and plan, when designing a system, about what the impact of quantum computing might be on it.  Often – very often – you won’t actually need to implement anything explicit now (and it could be hard to, given the current state of the art), but you should at least embrace the concept of crypto-agility: designing protocols and systems so that you can swap out algorithms if required[7].

The second is a call to arms: get involved in the open source movement, and encourage everybody you know who has anything to do with cryptography to rally for open standards and for research into non-proprietary, quantum-computing resistant algorithms.  This is something that’s very much on my to-do list, and an area where pressure and lobbying is just as important as the research itself.


1 – I think it’s fair to call it the first electronic, programmable computer.  I know there were earlier non-programmable ones, and that some claim ENIAC, but I don’t have the space or the energy to argue the case here.

2 – no.

3 – see [2].  Don’t get me wrong, by the way – I grew up near Weston-super-Mare, and it’s got things going for it, but it’s not Mayfair.

4 – and if a quantum physicist says that something’s hard, then, to my mind, it’s hard.

5 – and I’m assuming that neither of us is a quantum physicist or mathematician[6].

6 – I’m definitely not.

7 – and not just for quantum-computing reasons: there’s a good chance that some of our existing classical algorithms may just fall to other, non-quantum attacks such as new mathematical approaches.

What’s a certificate?

For want of a nail, the kingdom was lost.

There was a huge story in the UK last week about how an expired certificate basically brought an entire mobile phone network (O2) to its knees. But what is a certificate, why do they expire, and why would that have such a big impact? In order to understand, let’s step back a bit and look at why you need certificates in the first place.

Let’s assume that two people, Alice and Bob, want to exchange some secret information. Let’s go further, and say that Bob is actually Bobcorp, Alice’s bank, and she wants to be able send and receive her bank statements in encrypted form. There are well established ways to do this, and the easiest way is for them to agree on a shared key that they use to both encrypt and decrypt each others’ messages. How do they agrees this key? Luckily, there are some clever ways in which they can manage a “handshake” between they two of them, even if they’ve not communicated before, which ends in their both having a copy of the key, without the chance of anybody else getting hold of it.

The problem is that Alice can’t actually be sure that she’s talking to Bobcorp (or vice versa). Bobcorp probably doesn’t mind, at this point, because he can ask Alice to provide her login credentials, which will allow him to authenticate her. But Alice really does care: she certainly shouldn’t be handing her login details to somebody – let’s call her “Eve” – who’s just pretending to be Bob.

The solution to this problems comes in two parts: certificates and Certificate Authorities (CAs). A CA is a well-known and trusted party with whom Bobcorp has already established a relationship: typically by providing company details, website details and the like. Bobcorp also creates and sends the CA a special key and very specific information about itself (maybe including the business name, address and website information). The CA, having established Bobcorp’s bona fides, creates a certificate for Bobcorp, incorporating the information that was requested – in fact, some of the information that Bobcorp sends the CA is usually in the form of a “self-signed certificate”, so pretty much all that the CA needs to do is provide its own signature.

Astute readers will be asking themselves: “How did this help? Alice still needs to trust the CA, right?” The answer is that she does. But there will typically be a very small number of CAs in comparison to Bobcorp-type companies, so all Alice needs to do is ensure that she can trust a few CAs, and she’s now good to go. In a Web-browsing scenario, Alice will usually have downloaded a browser which already has appropriate trust relationships with the main CAs built in. She can now perform safe handshakes with lots of companies, and as long as she (or her browser) checks that they provide certificates signed by a CA that she trusts, she’s relatively safe.

But there’s a twist. The certificates that the CA issues to Bobcorp (and others) typically have an expiration date on them. This isn’t just to provide the CA with a recurring revenue stream – though I’m sure that’s a nice benefit – but also in case Bobcorp’s situation changes: what if it has gone bankrupt, for instance, or changed its country of business?[1] So after a period of time (typically in the time frame of a year or two, but maybe less or more), Bobcorp needs to reapply to get a new certificate.

What if Bobcorp forgets? Well, when Alice visits Bobcorp’s site and the browser notices an expired certificate, it should want her not to proceed, and she shouldn’t give them any information until it’s renewed. This sounds like a pain, and it is: Bobcorp and its customers are going to be severely inconvenienced. Somebody within Bobcorp whose job it was to renew the certificate is going to be in trouble.

Life is even worse in the case where no actual people are involved. If, instead of Alice, we have an automated system A, and instead of Bob, we have an automated system, B. A still needs to trust that it’s talking to the real B in case an evil system E is pretending to be B, so certificates are still required. In this case, if, B’s certificate expires, A should quite rightly refuse to connect to it. This seems to have been what happened to cause the mobile data outage that O2 is blaming on Ericsson, one of its suppliers. There was no easy way to fix the problem, or tell the many, many A-type systems that may have been trying to communicate with the B system(s) to carry on regardless. And so, for want of a nail, the kingdom was lost.

The lesson? Avoid single points of failure, think about fall-back modes. And be ready to move to remedy unexpected errors. Quickly.


1 – there are also various mechanisms to revoke, or cancel, certificates but hey they are typically complex, ill-implemented in many cases, and consequently little-used.

Encryption “backdoor”? No, it’s an gaping archway.

Backdoors are just a non-starter.

Note: this is probably one of those posts where I should point out that the views expressed in this article aren’t necessarily those of my employer, Red Hat.  Though I hope that they are.

I understand that governments don’t like encryption. Well, to be fair, they like encryption for their stuff, but they don’t want criminals, or people who might be criminals to have it. The problem is that “people who might be criminals” means you and me[1]. I need encryption, and you need encryption. For banking, but business, for health records, for lots of things. This isn’t the first time I’ve blogged on this issue, and I actually compiled a list in a previous post, giving some examples of perfectly legal, perfectly appropriate reasons for “us” to be using encryption. I’ve even written about the importance of helping governments go about their business.

Unluckily, it seems that the Government of Australia has been paying insufficient attention to the points that I have[2] been making. It seems that they are hell-bent on passing a law that would require relevant organisations (the types of organisations listed are broad and ill-defined, in the coverage that I’ve seen) to provide a backdoor into individuals’ encrypted messages. Only for individuals, you’ll note, not blanket decryption.  Well, that’s a relief. And that was sarcasm.

The problem? Mathematics. Cryptography is based on mathematics. Much of it is actually quite simple, though some of it is admittedly complex. But you don’t argue with mathematics, and the mathematics say that you can’t just create a backdoor and have the rest of the scheme continue to be as secure.

Most existing encryption/decryption schemes[3] allow one party to send encrypted data to another with a single shared key. To decrypt, you need that key. In order to get that key, you either need to be one of the two parties (typically referred to as “Alice” and “Bob”), or hope that, as a malicious[5] third party (typically referred to as “Eve”[6]), you can do one of the following:

  1. get Alice or Bob to give you their key;
  2. get access to the key by looking at some or all of the encrypted messages;
  3. use a weakness in the encryption process to decrypt the messages.

Now, number 1 isn’t great if you don’t want Alice or Bob to know that you’re snooping on their messages. Number 2 is a protocol weakness, and designers of cryptographic protocols try very, very hard to avoid them. Number 3 is an implementation weakness, and reputable application developers will be try very, very hard to avoid those. What’s more, for applications which are open source, anyone can have a look at them, so putting them in on purpose isn’t likely to last for long.

Both 2 and 3 can lead to backdoors. But they’re not single-use backdoors, they’re gaping archways that anyone can find out about and exploit.

Would it be possible to design protocols that allowed a third party to hold a key for each encryption session, allowing individual sessions to be decrypted by a “trusted party” such as law enforcement? Yes, it would. But a) no-one with half a brain would knowingly use such a scheme[7]; b) the operational overhead of running such a scheme would be unmanageable; and c) it would only a matter of time before untrusted parties got access to the systems behind the scheme and misused it.

Backdoors are just a non-starter. Governments need to find sensible ways to perform legally approved surveillance, but encryption backdoors are not one of them.


1 – and I’m not even intentionally addressing any criminals who might be reading this article.

2 – quite eloquently, in my humble opinion.

3 – the two tend to go together as there isn’t much point in one without the other[4] .

4 – in most cases. You’d be surprised, though.

5 – at least as far as Alice and Bob are concerned.

6 – guess where the name of this blog originated?

7 – hint: not me, not you, and certainly not criminals.

The 3 things you need to know about disk encryption

Use software encryption, preferably an open-source and audited solution.

It turns out that somebody – well, lots of people, in fact – failed to implement a cryptographic standard very well.  This isn’t a surprise, I’m afraid, but it’s bad news.  I’ve written before about how important it is to be using disk encryption, but it turns out that the advice I gave wasn’t sufficient, or detailed enough.

Here’s a bit of background.  There are two ways to do disk encryption:

  1. let the disk hardware (and firmware) manage it: HDD (hard disk drive), SSD (solid state drive) and hybrid (a mix of HDD and SDD technologies) manufacturers create drives which have encryption built in.
  2. allow your Operating System (e.g. Linux[0], OSX[1], Windows[2]) to do the job: the O/S will have a little bit of itself on the disk unencrypted, which will allow it to decrypt the rest of the disk (which is encrypted) when provided with a password or key.

You’d think, wouldn’t you, that option 1 would be the safest?  It should be quick, as it’s done in hardware, and well, the companies who manufacture these disks will know that they’re doing, right?

No.

A paper (link opens a PDF file) written by some researchers in the Netherlands reveals some work that they did on several SSD drives to try to work out how good a job had been done on the encryption security.  They are all supposed to have implemented a fairly complex standard from the TCG[4] called Opal, but it seems that none of them did it right.  It turns out that someone with physical access to your hardware can, fairly trivially, decrypt what’s on your drive.  And they can do this without the password that you use to lock it or any associated key(s).  The simple lesson from this is that you shouldn’t trust hardware disk encryption.

So, software disk encryption is OK, then?

Also no.

Well, actually yes, as long as you’re not using Microsoft’s BitLocker in its default mode.  It turns out that BitLocker will just use hardware encryption if the drive its using supports it.  In other words, using BitLocker just uses hardware encryption unless you tell it not to do so.

What about other options?  Well, you can tell BitLocker not to use hardware encryption, but only for a new installation: it won’t change on an existing disk.  The best option[5] is to use a software encryption solution which is open source and audited by the wider community.  LUKS is the default for most Linux distributions.  One suggested by the papers’ authors for Windows is Veracrypt.  Can we be certain that there are no holes or mistakes in the implementation of these solutions?  No, we can’t, but the chances of security issues being found and fixed are much, much higher than for proprietary software[6].

What, then are my recommendations?

  1. Don’t use hardware disk encryption.  It’s been shown to be flawed in many implementations.
  2. Don’t use proprietary software.  For anything, honestly, particularly anything security-related, but specifically not for disk encryption.
  3. If you have to use Windows, and are using BitLocker, run with VeraCrypt on top.

 


1 – GNU Linux.

2 – I’m not even sure if this is the OS that Macs run anymore, to be honest.

3 – not my thing either, but I’m pretty sure this is what it’s call.  Couldn’t be certain of the version, though.

4 – Trusted Computing Group.

5 – as noted by the paper’s authors, and heartily endorsed by me.

6 – I’m not aware of any problems with Macintosh-based implementations, but open source is just better – read the article linked from earlier in the sentence.

Fallback is not your friend – learning from TLS

The problem with standards is that people standardise on them.

People still talk about “SSL encryption”, which is so last century.  SSL – Secure Sockets Layer – was superseded by TLS – Transport Layer Security – in 1999 (which is when the TLS 1.0 specification was published).  TLS 1.1 came out in 2006.  That’s 12 years ago, which is, like, well, ages and ages in Internet time.  The problem with standards, however, is that people standardise on them.  It turns out that TLS v1.0 and v1.1 have some security holes in them, which mean that you shouldn’t use them, but people not only did, but they wrote their specifications and implementations to do so – and to continue doing so.  In fact, as reported by The Register, the IETF is leading a call for TLS v1.0 and v1.1 to be fully deprecated: in other words, to tell people that they definitely, really, absolutely shouldn’t be using them.

Given that TLS v1.2 came out in August 2008, nearly ten years ago, and that TLS v1.3 is edging towards publication now, surely nobody is still using TLS v1.0 or v1.1 anyway, right?

Answer – it doesn’t matter whether they are or not

This sounds a bit odd as an answer, but bear with me.  Let’s say that you have implemented a new website, a new browser, or a client for some TLS-supporting server.  You’re a good and knowledgeable developer[1], or you’re following the designs from your good and knowledgeable architect or the tests from your good and knowledgeable test designer[2].  You are, of course, therefore using the latest version of TLS, which is v1.2.  You’ll be upgrading to v1.3 just as soon as it’s available[3].  You’re safe, right?  None of those nasty vulnerabilities associated with v1.0 or v1.1 can come and bite you, because all of the other clients or servers to which you’ll be connecting will be using v1.2 as well.

But what if they aren’t?  What about legacy clients or old server versions?  Wouldn’t it just be better to allow them to say “You know what?  I don’t speak v1.2, so let’s speak a version that I do support, say v1.0 instead?”

STOP.

This is fallback, and although it seems like the sensible, helpful thing to do, once you support it – and it’s easy, as many TLS implementations allow it – then you’ve got problems.  You’ve just made a decision to sacrifice security for usability – and worse, what you’re actually doing is opening the door for attackers not just to do bad things if they come across legitimate connections, but actually to pretend to be legitimate, force you to downgrade the protocol version to one they can break, and then do bad things.  Of course, those bad things will depend on a variety of factors, including the protocol version, the data being passed, cipher suites in use, etc., but this is a classic example of extending your attack surface when you don’t need to.

The two problems are:

  1. it feels like the right thing to do;
  2. it’s really easy to implement.

The right thing to do?

Ask yourself the question: do I really need to accept connections from old clients or make connections to new servers?  If I do, should I not at least throw an error[4]?  You should consider whether this is really required, or just feels like the right thing to do, and it’s a question that should be considered by the security folks on your project team[5].  Would it not be safer to upgrade the old clients and servers?  In lots of cases, the answer is yes – or at least ensure that you deprecate in one release, and then remove support in the next.

The easy implementation?

According to a survey performed by Qualys SSL Labs in May 2018 this was a breakdown of 150,000 popular websites in the world, here are versions of TLS that are supported:

  • TLS v1.2 – 92.3%
  • TLS v1.1 – 83.5%
  • TLS v1.0 – 83.4%
  • SSL v3.0 – 10.7%
  • SSL v2.0 – 2.8%

Yes, you’re reading that correctly: over ten percent of the most popular 150,000 websites in the world support SSL v3.0.  You don’t even want to think about that, believe me.  Now, there may be legitimate reasons for some of those websites to support legacy browsers, but you can bet your hat that a good number of them have just left support in for some of these versions just because it’s more effort to turn off than it is to leave on.  This is lazy programming, and it’s insecure practice.  Don’t do it.

Conclusion

TLS isn’t the only protocol that supports fallback[8], and there can be good reasons for allowing it.  But when the protocol you’re using is a security protocol, and the new version fixes security problems in the old version(s), then you should really avoid it unless you absolutely have to allow it.


1 – the only type of developer to read this blog.

2 – I think you get the idea.

3 – of course you will.

4 – note – throwing security-based errors that users understand and will act on is notoriously difficult.

5 – if you don’t have any security folks on your design team, find some[6].

6 – or at least one, for pity’s sake[7].

7 – or nominate yourself and do some serious reading…

8 – I remember having to hand-code SOCKS v2.0 to SOCKS v1.0 auto-fallback into a client implementation way back in 1996 or so, because the SOCKS v2.0 protocol didn’t support it.