Category: Internet

Many password. So changing. Much heartbleed

So #Heartbleed, perhaps the best software bug ever. I spent much of today checking websites and changing passwords. Fortunately, I use the Firefox password manager to store mine and sync them with the browser on my mobile phone, so I could open it, search for “https://”, and work through the list. I eventually used 30 or so random sequences from random.org, starting with anything that had money attached. It was an advance on my plan, over a decade old, of using the names of Australian cattle stations.

That was fair enough, but I kept running into the same problem – I had to log in, root around in some e-commerce site to find the “change password” link, and then futz around still more to persuade Firefox to save the new password. The champion was probably a ticketabc site where I had to feign interest in a Pharcyde gig to change my password.

The problem that you can’t explicitly edit the passwords is solved with this extension, which also helps with some web sites that don’t flag the password fields properly. PayPal even stops you copying and pasting, to make absolutely sure you can’t use it without passing a typing test.

But this is all kludge. The main problem with passwords is that if they are any good, you can’t remember them. The other main problem with passwords is that if you can think them up, they probably aren’t any good. The other other main problem with them is that the whole life-cycle is so almost.

What I want is this: my Web browser generates a genuinely long and random password whenever I need one, and stores it. It fetches it whenever I want to log in. When I don’t want it any more, it deletes it. If there is some reason to think it’s been compromised, I press a button and the password is revoked and a new one generated.

Seems simple enough, and I was thinking about getting the JavaScript book out and making a browser extension…until I started changing the passwords. The problem is that there are so, so many daft, broken, almost ways of implementing simple password schemes. And wouldn’t it be that bloody horrible Verified by Visa mess that doesn’t either pass or fail the test for Heartbleed, when it is supposedly all that stands between my money and the scum of the Internet? secure5.arcot.com, I’m looking at you.

What I want, then, is a simple standard that allows a Web site (or if you like, anything else using it) to trigger the creation of a password by the password manager, which then stores it for later use, and that provides for the password to later be changed. This must allow for an external device to generate the password if desired, for a master credential, and for the password store to be sync’d between machines if desired. It must also allow for a big REVOKE ALL THE THINGS button that causes all (or a subset) of the stored passwords to be expired and regenerated.

That’s basically an API with five calls:

>makePassword(site, username)

>login(site, username, password)

>logout(site, username)

>deletePassword(site, username, password)

>revokePassword(site, username, password)

and the fifth is really just a delete followed immediately by a make.

Why the hell hasn’t W3C done anything like this? It seems such a basic and useful project compared to the vast effort poured into the semantic web black hole.

Update: Naadir Jeewa objects.

I think he is wrong. Not only is OAuth in the sense of “sign in with Facebook”, i.e. the sense in which it gets used, a bad case of pre-Snowden thinking, it’s also true that it works for me about 25% of the time.

Ladies and gentlemen, we are floating in money

Something we’ve needed for a while: a good hard stomp on the knuckles of all this MAGIC FACEBOOK DRONEZ FOR AFRICA nonsense. Provided. I especially like the point that in fact, mobile operators are building 3G coverage in these places right now using the exciting new technology of sticking the antenna on a pole. A case in point: Vodafone’s M-PESA mobile payments platform is moving this spring, into hosting in Kenya, having so far been based in a VF data centre in Germany. That’s a huge vote of confidence in Kenyan infrastructure.

I would only add that a typical national cellular network is between 3,000 and 13,000 Node Bs, and that’s a lot of flying robots, especially when you think that they will need to rotate home for downtime. It’s also a hell of a lot of aerial activity for countries that don’t have much in the way of air traffic control. And typical monthly blended ARPU in these areas is around $5. If you want to attach a flying robot to each cell, how’s that going to add up?

It’s basically the equivalent to all the people who were going to cover this or that with free WiFi back in about 2004 and we wouldn’t need boring carriers with all their boring regulation and boring unions and boring universal service and boring and why you so boring, Sven Radioplanner?

Speaking of which, I saw a Bell Labs presentation in about 2005 of research into mobile base stations that would actually be mobile themselves, chugging about airports on their wheels to optimise the network design. I note that I’ve yet to find a Node B chasing me into a tube station, like the infrastructure for the Direct Line phone. I suspect that the problem of designing such a highly dynamic radio network might be quite complicated. Presumably the drones talk to each other, so it’s a mesh network, and one thing we know about those is that they don’t scale particularly well.

It is actually true that the bellhead/nethead divide persists after all these years. At MWC the other week, I was amazed at the big deal people on the main site made about having an app or a Web site, while over at the developer event people would start up a RESTful service during their own presentations. Similarly, at IETF this week, I mentioned BCP38 to someone and they had no idea what it was – the stereotype of being a bit unworldly and not really interested in user or operator problems has a grain of truth.

But this sort of stupid cap-badge politics divide is just that – stupid, and misleading. It also acts as camouflage for all sorts of ugly prejudices and assumptions, in this case that Africans need saving by DRONEZ, that Facebook is the first of their concerns, that everyone who works for a telco or worse, a government, is an idiot, and that only idiots get involved with infrastructure.

Meanwhile in the UK, we still haven’t fixed the thing where you get to not pay rates on new fibre until it’s sold and profitable, but only if you’re BT, and Cory Doctorow is worrying about the renewed London property boom eating start-ups so they can be replaced by oligarch units.

Here’s a really nice group profile of Xavier Niel, Stéphane Richard, and Martin Bouygues from Le Monde. It’s a pity the reporter doesn’t sound able to assess anything technical they say critically – it’s certainly not true that Free doesn’t do engineering – but it does point up the way they seem to come from three different versions of France. Richard, the super-elite but entirely general purpose technocrat; Bouygues, the Neuilly heir to a fortune built on selling construction projects to the government; Niel, the guy from post-1983 who ran away to the Internet and thinks everyone should learn programming.

daft IP addressing choices

This is only one of the reasons why squatting in other people’s netblocks is a bad idea. To understand the point, you’ve got to go back to the BT 21CN project, which was one of those “the Internet is just another service over our private network” ideas telcos tend to love. Although a lot of it didn’t work, like the weird ethernet-level multiservice router, they did build a huge MPLS core network that carries all the other stuff – i.e. mostly the Internet – as encapsulated traffic.

Because they did it this way, they also didn’t do IPv6, which left them with a problem. One of the advantages of doing it the way they did was that they could trivially have a parallel management network. But that meant finding at least two addresses per device for the whole of the UK. So they had the bright idea of picking a big netblock that doesn’t appear in the Internet routing table, and “borrowing” that.

Sensibly, they looked for one that would be very unlikely to ever be announced. Some organisations who got huge IP allocations back in the day, like MIT with its 3 /8 blocks, have been prevailed on to give at least some of them back for public use. The classic case is the trade show Interop, which used to own 45/8 and only use it one week a year.

The US Department of Defense, however, has a hell of a lot of address space, and usually doesn’t route publicly for fairly obvious reasons. And if they don’t want to give it up, who’s going to make them? So they peeked into the DODNIC allocation and picked 30/8. This is quite common; one day somebody will audit it all and there will be surprises.

PRISM. Sometimes it’s easier to solve these things in L

I think it is probably important to direct attention to this post, which contains the only convincing explanation of PRISM I’ve yet seen, including the tiny budget (if it only cost $20m to process everything in Apple, Google, Facebook etc, what do they need all those data centres for), the overt denials, and the denial of any technical backdoor.

Basically, the argument is that PRISM is an innovation in the technology of law rather than the technology of computing, some sort of expedited court order programmed in Lawyer requiring the disclosure of specified data, and perhaps providing for enduring or repeated collection. This would avoid the need to duplicate vast amounts of infrastructure or trawl every damn thing, would stick to the letter of the law, and would help engineers sleep, as it wouldn’t imply creating a vulnerability that could be used by both the NSA and God-knows-who. It would also permit the President and such folk to deny that everyone was being monitored, as of course they are not.

That said, data could be requested on anybody who the court could be convinced was of interest. As the legalities seem quite permissive and anyway the court is a bit of a flexible friend, this means a lot of people. And in an important sense it doesn’t matter. The fact that surveillance is possible is important in itself. Bentham’s panopticon was based on the combination of overt surveillance – the prisoners knew that there was a guard watching them – and covert surveillance – the fact that the prisoners didn’t know at any given moment who the guard might be watching and therefore could not be certain they were not being observed.

The degree to which this was an aim of PRISM must be limited, because it was after all meant to be secret. But it is hard to avoid the conclusion that it’s there.

Something else. I’ve occasionally said that the Great Firewall of China should be seen as a protectionist trade-barrier as much as an instrument of censorship. Huge Chinese Internet companies exist that probably wouldn’t if everyone there used Facebook, Google, etc. Here you see another benefit of it – the Public Security Bureau gets to spy on QQ, but it’s harder for the Americans (or anyone else) to poke around. This may explain why the NSA seems to pick up lots of data from India and much less from KSA or China; you can PRISM for terrorists trying to affect the Indo-Pak nuclear balance and you can’t for Chinese targets.

Borders are always interesting, and this is today’s version.

Iran, of course, does another twist on this. It has a vigorous internal ISP industry, but monopolises international interconnection through a nationalised telco, DCI, that practices serious censorship. However, the same company also sells unfiltered, real Internet connectivity to actors outside Iran, notably in Oman, Pakistan, Iraq, and Afghanistan, almost certainly following Iranian foreign policy goals. DCI has even gone so far as to invest heavily in a new Europe-Middle East submarine cable to add capacity and improve quality (notably by taking a shorter route to Europe, and adding path-diversity against Cap’n Bubba and his anchor). Back in 2006, supposedly, the best Internet service in Kabul was in the cybercafe they installed in the Iranian embassy’s cultural centre.

(A starter-for-ten. Has anyone else noticed that the major cloud computing providers, Amazon Web Services, Salesforce/Heroku, Rackspace et al, aren’t mentioned?)

Update:

Yahoo! has not joined any program in which we volunteer to share user data with the U.S. government. We do not voluntarily disclose user information. The only disclosures that occur are in response to specific demands. And, when the government does request user data from Yahoo!, we protect our users. We demand that such requests be made through lawful means and for lawful purposes. We fight any requests that we deem unclear, improper, overbroad, or unlawful. We carefully scrutinize each request, respond only when required to do so, and provide the least amount of data possible consistent with the law.

The notion that Yahoo! gives any federal agency vast or unfettered access to our users’ records is categorically false. Of the hundreds of millions of users we serve, an infinitesimal percentage will ever be the subject of a government data collection directive. Where a request for data is received, we require the government to identify in each instance specific users and a specific lawful purpose for which their information is requested. Then, and only then, do our employees evaluate the request and legal requirements in order to respond—or deny—the request.

Yahoo!’s top lawyer, spinning like a top, but basically confirming the notion of PRISM as a surveillance technology implemented in Lawyer.

internal chaos, exported

A case of China exporting its internal chaos, as Jamie Kenny would say; I was recently talking to someone who had installed a wireless broadband network in China, and they mentioned that they’d had an exciting experience with a Huawei router. Politicians whose constituents include Huawei’s competitors are endlessly insinuating that their equipment is always secretly talking back to the Chinese, but no-one has ever caught them at it.

So our chap was suitably fascinated when they turned the thing up and they immediately started to see traffic heading for an apparently inexplicable address within China Telecom’s provincial network in Guangdong. Now, they weren’t in the province, but of course Huawei HQ is. Of course they fired up a monitoring tool to capture the traffic and see what it was.

It turned out to be the router’s internal inter-chassis traffic, which should have been going to its own loopback interface, but was instead leaking onto the Internet. It seemed that someone in Huawei had borrowed some public IP addresses to use in their lab, rather than either using Huawei address space privately, or else using the designated private address space, had used the address in the router firmware, and had then forgotten about it. (Rather like that time all the D-Link Wi-Fi boxes in the world started asking some guy in Denmark for a time signal, in case you think it’s just the Chinese who do these things.)

Obviously, routing via China would have been…suboptimal, and would have involved passing through the Great Firewall. But it would have worked in Huawei’s lab, or locally in Guangdong. No conspiracy, just internal chaos leaking across the border.

Going round the country, stirring up apathy

So, that PCCSpoil blog. To begin with, it was a collection of spoiled ballots from the police commissioner elections, a large (>75%) proportion of which seemed to add the hashtags #PCCSpoil or #policespoilballot. I had the impression that this suggested a campaign of some sort. After all, why the hashtag if you weren’t planning to put it on the web?

Since then, the blog has vanished, briefly shown a Mike Giggleresque student politics video, and now points at a petition to explain one’s spoiled ballot to No.10 Downing Street. Someone on Twitter thought the slogan “Don’t politicise the police”, which many of the spoilers used, might be a Police Federation internal line. But it’s not.

There was a policeman who was supporting it, CynicalBobby on twitter. Also, a well-known libertarian. But these were late to the party. Much earlier (9th November) a facebook page had appeared. Following up people who liked it or contributed in any way, I found no cops, but a variety of people who were by turns Green, sceptics, atheists, pro-Palestinian, and from Yorkshire, Wales, or the Isle of Wight, in more than one case.

Spoiltpapers.org.uk was registered by someone in Wrexham on the 9th of November, the same day the facebook page appeared. On the way, Plaid Youth glommed on. But many of the people involved were in comments to this Guardian piece, on their Northerner blog, from the 5th of November.

That, in turn, was from this lady, a regular contributor from God’s and Jimmy’s own county, a green-minded pro-Palestinian ex-Lib Dem who even introduced the slogan, on the 3rd. We have a patient-zero. Magic darts!

A special note. Tumblr, like Facebook, doesn’t delete your photos if you kill your account or even delete stuff from it. They remain in whichever content-delivery network they used. I know this because, after the PCC blog vanished, I noticed I still had a copy open in a browser tab, and I was able to wget all the images and the HTML wrapper into an archive.

Update: One of the people in this post is now claiming to be me! As a note to the TV producers who are asking me for copies of the spoiled ballots, PCCSpoil is not my blog and has nothing to do with me. My bet is the Plaid guy.

How the Scottish Labour party got telecoms policy right in 1895

Via someone on twatter, Parliament debates telecoms regulation, in 1895. The superficial bit:

there was a great distinction between telephones and such subjects as gas and water. Gas and water were necessaries for every inhabitant of the country; telephones were not and never would be. It was no use trying to persuade themselves that the use of telephones could be enjoyed by the large masses of the people in their daily life. [An hon. MEMBER: "America."]

He did not think his hon. Friend was aware of the fact that in the large towns of America subscribers had to pay £40 to £50 for the service which a subscriber in London obtained for from £10 to £20. He went further and said that in a town like London, or Glasgow, or Belfast, an effective telephone service would be practically impossible if the large majority of the houses were furnished with telephones, so great would be the confusion caused by the increased number of exchanges. He was not stating his own opinion, but that of experts.

You’ve got to love the appeal to nameless experts there, and the general 640K-ness. But there’s more, and as this evening’s unstated theme is turning out to be “blog about why things everybody agrees on don’t get on the ballot”, it’s worth reading on.

For a start, they’re debating the question of whether cities ought to be allowed to run their own networks, a topic which is just as fresh today as it was then. Everyone agrees that a private-sector monopoly is undesirable, but is the answer muni-fibre (well, muni-copper), regulation and a universal-service fund, a nationalised industry, or something else? The minister, Arnold Morley, argues that it’s mostly a national-level or even supranational (he says imperial) infrastructure issue. Glasgow Labour MP A. C. Corbett makes a vigorous case for municipal socialism in telephony as in everything else. Sir J.E. Gorst sketches out the situation, which is almost as much of a mess as UK telecoms policy is now. A good row is fought out about who is responsible.

A. D. Provand, yet another Glasgow MP, invents settlement-free peering 100 years early and points up the difference between peering and termination:

The terminals would operate in this way: If, for example, London had a telephone licence, it could not send a message to Brighton unless Brighton had also an exchange, which would deliver the message free, otherwise the London message would he delivered through the present Company at Brighton, which would charge a terminal for doing so, The effect of that would lie to double the rate between London and Brighton.

And A.C. Corbett basically hits on the solution everybody who’s seriously thought about it prefers: open access to shared civil infrastructure! But why put up with the open access bit when the town hall can run the whole thing?

It had been suggested that where underground telephones were necessary, and where it was impossible for the municipality to entrust the control of the streets to any private corporation working for profit, that the municipality should lay these underground wires and take all the care of them. If the municipality was to lay the wires and take all the care of maintenance, there was no possible reason why the municipality should not take over all the undertaking and derive all the profit to be got from it.

Then again, once you’ve got the rights-of-way and the ducts in the public hand, you can do both, like Singapore’s NBN.

Well, at least we were spared the private sector monopoly…until we got it anyway. It is pretty astonishing, though, when you think of some of the places that have got 150Mbps FTTH networks and some of the places that have already sorted out LTE spectrum, and then of the UK. Agenda-setting is a powerful force.

not at all defanged

Remember that thumbsucker I did on the Great Firewall? Well, here’s some data, via this post (thanks, Jamie). It seems that Fang Binxing, China’s Chief Bellhead, boss of the Beijing University of Post & Telecoms, and king of the great firewall, really is in trouble due to his special relationship with Bo Xilai. He briefly came up on the web to threaten to sue a Japanese newspaper which thinks he was detained for investigation. Then, the former head of Google in China (who obviously isn’t neutral in this) prodded him, and he denied having the power to block the offending story.

The FT, meanwhile, thinks Zhou Yongkang, the head of the security establishment, is on the out. That shouldn’t be overstated because he’s due to retire, but he has been doing a rubber chicken circuit of second-division official appearances, and his key responsibilities have been taken over by others.

Fang is supposedly being replaced by Yan Wangjia, CEO of Beijing Venustech, who was responsible for engineering the Great Firewall. Her company’s Web site is convincing on that score. Here’s the announcement that they got the contract to provide China Mobile with a 10 gigabit DPI system:

Recently, Venustech successfully won the bid for centralized firewall procurement project of China Mobile in 2009 with its 10G high-end models of Venusense UTM, thus becoming the first company of its kind to supply high-end security gateway to telecom operators.

It is said this centralized firewall procurement project is the world’s largest single project of high-end 10G security gateway procurement ever implemented, drawing together most of world-renowned communication equipment vendors and information security vendors such as Huawei and Juniper. Through the rigorous test by China Mobile, Venusense UTM stood out, making Venustech the only Chinese information security vendor in this bid.

Looking around, it sounds like they are the hardware vendor of the Great Firewall, specialising in firewall, intrusion detection, and deep-packet inspection kit for the governmental, educational, and enterprise sectors “and of course the carriers”. Well, who else needs a 10Gbps and horizontally scaling DPI box but a carrier? Note the careful afterthought there. Also, note that they’re the only people in the world who don’t think Cisco is a leading network equipment vendor.

Canalising the marshes: tidying up the people

Well, this is interesting, both on the Bo Xilai story and also on the general theme of the state of the art in contemporary authoritarianism. It looks like a major part of the case is about BXL’s electronic surveillance of Chongqing and specifically of top national-level Chinese officials:

One political analyst with senior-level ties, citing information obtained from a colonel he recently dined with, said Mr. Bo had tried to tap the phones of virtually all high-ranking leaders who visited Chongqing in recent years, including Zhou Yongkang, the law-and-order czar who was said to have backed Mr. Bo as his potential successor. “Bo wanted to be extremely clear about what leaders’ attitudes toward him were,” the analyst said.

That’s Zhou Yongkang as in the head of the whole Chinese internal security structure, cops, spooks, and all. Bo’s police chief (and future sort-of defector) Wang Lijun is described as being “a tapping freak”, addicted to the productivity and hence apparent power of electronic intelligence. Not only that, Wang eventually began tapping Bo, who was also tapping the CDIC feds who came down to keep an eye on him.

The practicalities are, as always, interesting.

The architect was Mr. Wang, a nationally decorated crime fighter who had worked under Mr. Bo in the northeast province of Liaoning. Together they installed “a comprehensive package bugging system covering telecommunications to the Internet,” according to the government media official.

One of several noted cybersecurity experts they enlisted was Fang Binxing, president of Beijing University of Posts and Telecommunications, who is often called the father of China’s “Great Firewall,” the nation’s vast Internet censorship system.

It’s worth pointing out that the provincial networks belonging to China Mobile, China Telecom etc. are usually organised as companies in their own right, and they often have their own AS numbers, and indeed they often contract for substantial network development projects with Western vendors (Nokia Siemens recently had a big mobile network contract in Sichuan, notably) on their own right.

Anyway, Fang’s involvement is very interesting indeed. He is responsible for the state-of-the-art authoritarian solution to the Internet. This is not just, or even primarily, a question of blacklisting websites or turning off the Internet. The Great Firewall’s detailed design, as the Cambridge Computer Lab found out a while ago, is specifically intended to be a semi-permeable membrane. Rather like Hadrian’s Wall, it is more about the gates through it than the wall itself, and the defences point in both directions.

When a computer within it tries to initiate a TCP connection to one outside that is classified as dodgy, the Firewall sends an RST message back to kill the connection. This permits much higher performance than the DNS-based blacklisting typical of, say, the UAE.

It also means that it’s possible to ignore the RST and look through the firewall by using your own firewall utility (specifically, set something like iptables to drop any RSTs for connections in states other than ESTABLISHED before a suitable time has elapsed). However, it would be a fair guess that any traffic doing this is logged and analysed more deeply.

Further, there is a substantial human infrastructure linking the media/PR/propaganda system, the police system, and the Ministry of the Information Industry. This uses tools such as moderation on big Web forums, direct recruitment, harassment, or persuasion of important influencers, the development of alternative opposition voices, and the use of regime loyalist trolls (the famous wumaodang).

The firewall, like Hadrian’s Wall or the original Great Wall, also has an economic function. This acts as a protectionist subsidy to Chinese Internet start-ups and a tariff barrier to companies outside it. Hence the appearance of some really big companies that basically provide clones of Twitter et al. Because the clones are inside the firewall, they are amenable to management and moderation. 

And none of this detracts from the genuine intention of the people at 31 Jin-rong Street, the China Telecom HQ, to wire up the whole place. Iran’s surprisingly important role providing broadband to Afghanistan and diversionary links to the Gulf reminds us that providing connectivity can be a powerful policy tool and one that you can use at the same time as informational repression.

So, Fang’s achievement is basically a package of technical and human security measures that let whoever is in charge of them command the context Web users experience.

Last autumn, several of the Chinese web startups were subjected to the combined honour and menace of a visit from top securocrats. Tencent, the owner of QQ and the biggest of the lot, got Zhou Yongkang in person. In hindsight, this will have been around the time the CDIC landed in Chongqing.

So, where am I going with this? Clearly, there was serious disquiet that somebody was usurping the right to control the wires. Even more disquieting, the surveillance establishment in Fang’s person seemed to be cooperating with him. And the systems he set up worked just as well for someone increasingly seen as a dangerous rebel as they did for the central government. (In fact, the people who like to complain about Huawei equipment in the West have it the wrong way round. It’s not some sort of secret backdoor they should be worrying about: it’s the official stuff.)

I do wonder, depending on what happens to Fang (he’s still vanished, but his Weibo feed has started updating again), if we might not see a relaxation of the firewall, which the pundits will consider “reform”. In fact it will be no such thing, rather a cranking up of internal chaos to facilitate a crackdown on opposition.

The politics of call centres, part two: sources of failure

So, why did we get here? Back in the mists of time, in the US Bell System, there used to be something called a Business Office, by contrast to a Central Office (i.e. what we call a BT Local Exchange in the UK), whose features and functions were set down in numerous Bell System Practice documents. Basically, it was a site where the phone company took calls from the public, either for its own account or on behalf of a third party. Its practices were defined by Bell System standardisation, and its industrial relations were defined by the agreement between AT&T and the unions, which specified the pay and conditions for the various trades and workplace types inside the monster telco. If something was a Business Office according to the book, the union agreement covering those offices would apply.

In the Reaganite 80s, after the Bell System was broken up, someone realised that it would be possible to get rid of the union rules if they could re-define the site as something else. Not only could they change the rules, but they could move the site physically to a right-to-work state or even outside the USA. This is, it turns out, the origin of the phrase “call centre”.

In the UK, of course, call centres proliferated in parallel with utility privatisation and financial deregulation. A major element in the business case for privatisation was getting rid of all those electricity showrooms and BT local offices and centralising customer service functions into `all centres. At the same time, of course, privatisation created the demand for customer service in that it was suddenly possible to change provider and therefore to generate a shit-load of admin. Banks were keen to get rid of their branches and to serve the hugely expanding credit card market. At another level, IT helpdesks made their appearance.

On the other hand, hard though it is to imagine it now, there was a broader vision of technology that expected it all to be provided centrally – in the cloud, if you will – down phone lines controlled by your favourite telco, or by the French Government, or perhaps Rupert Murdoch. This is one of the futures that didn’t happen, of course, because PCs and the web happened instead, but you can bet I spent a lot of time listening to people as late as the mid-2000s still talking about multimedia services (and there are those who argue this is what stiffed Symbian). But we do get a sneak-preview of the digital future that Serious People wanted us to have, every time we have to ring the call centre. In many ways, call centres are the Anti-Web.

In Britain, starting in the 1990s, they were also part of the package of urban regeneration in the North. Along with your iconic eurobox apartments and AutoCAD-shaped arts centre, yup, you could expect to find a couple of gigantic decorated sheds full of striplighting and the precariat. Hey, he’s like a stocky, Yorkshire Owen Hatherley. After all, it was fairly widely accepted that even if you pressed the button marked Arts and the money rolled in, there was a limit to the supply of yuppies and there had to be some jobs in there as well.

You would be amazed at the degree of boosterism certain Yorkshire councils developed on this score, although you didn’t need top futurist Popcorn Whatsname to work out that booming submarine cable capacity would pretty quickly make offshoring an option. Still, if Bradford didn’t make half-arsed attempts to jump on every bandwagon going, leaving it cluttered with vaguely Sicilian failed boondoggles, it wouldn’t be Bradford.

Anyway, I think I’ve made a case that this is an institution whose history has been pathological right from the start. It embodies a fantasy of managing a service industry in the way the US automakers were doing at the same time – and failing, catastrophically.