How a Zoom Meeting went Disastrously Wrong
My Exposure to Hardcore Child Pornography
Forty-eight hours ago I attended an online gathering of activists in the digital rights space. Our objective was to discuss the pros, cons and legal implications of “contact tracing” using mobile technology; an important and tricky topic at a time when governments are more likely to put rights aside (in the justified hope of saving lives during the Covid-19 pandemic), especially when the public is likely more accepting of increased intrusion (for the greater good etc.)
Thirty minutes into a presentation from a respected law professor, the participants — around 75 people by the last number I saw in the Zoom conferencing software’s window — were subjected to what appeared to be a bit of juvenile delinquency: A crudely drawn aspect of the male organ had suddenly appeared on the screen.
To the professor’s credit she dismissed this as an idiotic prank on the part of one of the 75 and carried on. Presumably she hoped the image would disappear at some point, which indeed it did.
A glance at the chat revealed that fingers were pointing at user “Benny”, as “his” name had appeared at the top of the screen the moment the image appeared. Benny protested innocence:
“It wasn’t me, I swear!”
Moments later the “prank” turned more sinister: This time a swastika. At first partially drawn, then cleared from view (by whom I do not know), then drawn again. Cleared again.
“Are we rid of this a-hole now?”
… the chat wondered.
Bear in mind this series of disturbances lasted mere seconds. Still, my stress levels had already risen. I wrote in the chat that we’d been ZoomBombed. Someone else had beaten me to this conclusion milliseconds before.
But what I — we — were exposed to in the following 4–5 seconds is something I never wish to see again in my life. Sadly, I think the imagery (Video? Animated gif? Live stream?) will be hard to erase from my mind. With my fight or flight response going into overdrive, I began to hyperventilate and shake uncontrollably. A yelp from one of the other participants brought her briefly into view as she turned away in disgust from the same vile video images I had just witnessed.
The window closed. I assume the moderator had killed the meeting, but it had come too late. The perpetrator of this act of terrorism — let’s call it by its real name — had bagged six score victims in the space of seconds.
I called my wife and created yet another trauma when I failed to explain what had happened before breaking down. I called the police and broke down again. I can only imagine the laughs I would have caused had the perpetrator seen my loss of motor control — actually a symptom of hyperarousal rooted in an episode of PTSD from some years back. Unluckily for him/her/it, my camera was turned off. Denied something, at least.
Moderator: Host and Gatekeeper
I freely admit that I am no expert in online teleconferencing software, but I offer these words of advice for current and would-be moderators:
- Master the tool’s security features before making your first invitation. Switch off features that allow anybody other than yourself to dictate any aspect of video or audio. Switch off auto-switching — a clever but dangerous feature which brings the current speaker (or noise maker) to the foreground automatically. Experiment. More technical tips (for Zoom) are provided in a recent TechCrunch article.
- Use a password. Always. If a link to the meeting is sent via email, then send the password using another (preferably secure) medium, such as Signal or Telegram.
- Think very carefully before making the location (the meeting’s URL) public. Professional Internet trolls have software (bots) that can pick up on these and begin sending content when the meeting begins. It’s all too easy and efficient. If you are part of a high-profile group, you are more likely to be targeted. If you’re not high-profile, don’t assume you won’t be targeted.
- If you must use auto-switching, do so only if you know and trust every participant. But again, the default position should be not showing anyone else’s video unless explicitly allowed by you, the moderator.
- Kill the meeting immediately at the first sign of pranking. Any sign. Trolls appear to get a rise out of upping the ante. Don’t forget, they can probably see the facial reactions of the participants. This, presumably, is part of the “entertainment”.
- Remember, the job of the moderator is more than to moderate: It is to ensure the safety and security of the meeting’s participants. For example, never allow a meeting to become an act of voyeurism. This can happen by accident, say, when a participant engages in a personal act (such as going to the bathroom) and forgets they’re on camera. Again, out of respect for all participants, be prepared to kill the meeting.
If a few people are encouraged to evaluate closely the tools they bring into their homes or the workplace, then something positive may have come from this experience.
Needless to say, all of the aforementioned guidelines could be supported, if not enforced, by the tool itself; or they should at least be the default position.
Unfortunately, the tools upon which we are increasingly dependent need to be built with the mindset of the nastiest of humans in mind. Evidently, they are not.
But even if vendors do take the point seriously, it will still be up to us — the general public — to remain diligent and ready to hit that kill button.
Finally, let’s ditch the term ZoomBombing. I propose TeleTerrorism. ZoomBombing is simply too cute a term for the wickedness it potentially enables. Furthermore, Zoom is the just bad boy of the moment. To be sure, it has many recognised failings; but all teleconferencing tools will have vulnerabilities and we need to keep that in mind when we invite our family, friends and colleagues to online social gatherings.
We have never needed online communication more than at this moment. Let us indeed embrace its power and its convenience, but not at the expense of our sanity and for the entertainment of the sickest individuals.
Stay safe people.
