If you listen to the aggrandizing press releases and the generous media hoopla, you’d think Air Force Major General William T. Lord will go down in history as a “pioneer” who made it possible to “fly and fight in cyberspace.”

Lord is so important to the militarization of cyberspace that he’s even got a bio page on Wikipedia.

Then there’s retired Air Force Colonel Herbert E. Carter. USAF recently published a photo of him titled “Remembering the Tuskegee Airmen.” The caption reads as follows:

Remembering the Tuskegee Airmen

Retired Col. Herbert E. Carter shakes hands with an [unidentified] Airman who he just gave the oath of re-enlistment to Oct. 11 at Moton Field in Tuskegee, Ala. Colonel Carter is one of the original members of the Tuskegee Airmen and was on hand for the opening of the Tuskegee Airmen National Historic Site. Moton Field in the 1940s was the only primary flight training facility for the first African American pilot candidates in the Army Air Corps, these pilots are known as the Tuskegee Airmen. (U.S. Air Force photo/Staff Sgt. Christine Jones)

Colonel Carter has no bio page on Wikipedia. It appears his pioneering contributions to racial desegregation aren’t as important to society as General Lord’s pioneering contributions to the militarization of cyberspace.

(I don’t have a bio page on Wiki, either. But that’s probably just because I’m a new-generation Tuskegee Airman…)

In the first three parts of this topic, I insisted we can’t take “cyber-war” or “cyber-terrorism” seriously until certain people agree to take on pivotal roles, and until the world’s militaries develop a brevity code for their cyberspace weapon systems.

But we need more than just role models and brevity codes. As bizarre as it may sound, “cyber-war” and “cyber-terror” must also address society’s innate desire for military museums.

Nearly everyone knows what a museum is but few of us can describe it in formal terms. Let’s consult Wikipedia for a formal definition:

A museum is a “permanent institution in the service of society and of its development, open to the public, which acquires, conserves, researches, communicates and exhibits the tangible and intangible heritage of humanity and its environment, for the purposes of education, study, and enjoyment”, as defined by the International Council of Museums.

Mankind is both curious and martial by nature: people will go out of their way to see historic military artifacts, specimens, reproductions, and dioramas. So let’s look at this Air Force museum photo. It augments a press release; the caption itself reads:

USAF photo: Celebration recognizes 100 years of military aviation

Cele­bra­tion recog­nizes 100 years of mili­tary aviation: Visitors inspect a repro­duc­tion of the 1908 Wright air­craft Sept. 6, at Fort Myer, Va., during a Cen­ten­nial of Mili­tary Aviation cele­bra­tion. (U.S. Air Force photo/Senior Master Sgt. Matt Proietti)

Let’s face it, folks. From a military perspective, the Wright Brothers’ powered-flight exploits strike us as antiquated and (dare we say it?) somewhat absurd. “A soldier actually thought he could wage war with this contraption?” Actually, no — military museums only pay tribute to the Wrights for historical context, as U.S. aerial missions first took shape in 1861 during the Civil War.

Yes: the Wrights ushered in a new era of powered flight. Yes: an aircraft first engaged in combat in Libya in 1911. But the world’s militaries needed to experiment for decades to bring aerial warfare up to par with land & naval warfare. Military museums point to WWII as the true tipping point for “aero-war,” a time when men fought in the air for control of the air.

To be honest: no mili­tary museum will high­light General Lord a hun­dred years from now — because there’s no photo of him flying or fighting in cyber­space. But don’t lose hope! A sena­tor from Lou­i­si­ana might spon­sor a bill to name an IPv6 mili­tary subnet in his honor…

One hundred years from now, from a military perspective, General Lord’s PowerPoint exploits will strike museum visitors as antiquated and (dare we say it?) somewhat absurd. “A flag officer actually thought he could wage war with this contraption?” Actually, no — military museums will only pay tribute to Lord’s exploits for historical context, as U.S. cyber missions first took shape in … well, that’s all highly classified if we’re to believe the many hundreds of experts who love to brag about it.

Yes: Al Gore ushered in a new era of cyber flight. Yes: USAF suffered its own Pearl Harbor at the hands of one teenage hacker in 1997. But the world’s militaries will need to write experimental software for decades to bring cyber warfare up to par with land & naval & aerial warfare. Tomorrow’s military museums will point to some horrifying global conflict as the true tipping point for “cyber-war,” a time when men will fight in cyberspace for control of cyberspace.

(And here’s the kicker, folks. That horrifying global conflict will also spark the first real war in outer space. “Moving along, children, you can see a molten piece of the International Space Station that survived re-entry after a hunter-killer satellite blew it up and killed everyone on board at the start of WWIII…”)

Folks, we can’t take “cyber-war” or “cyber-terrorism” seriously until it can address society’s innate desire for military museums. Any museum artifact, specimen, reproduction, or diorama up to now can only describe context, not combat.

Now let’s ask a philosophical question. What will our ancestors see when they visit a military cyberspace museum one hundred years from now? Do you honestly think the caption will read “Visitors inspect a reproduction of Major General William T. Lord’s 2008 Windows XP SP3 ‘Cyber Surfer’ weapon system at Barksdale Cyber Base, Louisiana, during a Centennial of Military Cyber Operations celebration…”

“Every computer IS a weapon system,” insist the hypemeisters. To hear them say it, the military museums of tomorrow will show off antique “qwerty” keyboards and reproductions of cubicles. I can already hear a museum curator speaking to millions of children wandering the exhibits in cyberspace…

Moving along, boys and girls, we come to Major General William T. Lord’s actual desk where he flew combat cyber missions in 2008. Do you see the holes on either side of the front corners? Those holes were for wires. In the old days, all military cyber craft were “tethered” to a cabinet or desk with cables and wires. These wires would connect to a keyboard (that’s what they used to call a hand bud), and a video monitor (that’s what they used to call an eye bud), and a microphone (that’s what they used to call an ear bud), and a headset (another type of ear bud). Even a pointing device called a “mouse” (another type of hand bud) was tethered to the desk by a wire. That’s a lot of wires!

Believe it or not, children, in General Lord’s day, all cyber pilots had two Fones tethered to their desks. Fones were very primitive in those days: you couldn’t even see the person you were talking to. And transfer data? Forget it, those Fones were just for your voice. The military back then believed they needed different Fones for different levels of security. If you were a powerful man like General Lord, you would have a third Fone that made “faxes” on real tree paper. That’s all it would do. In theory you could talk on it, but no one ever did.

And Fones were very expensive back then, children! People couldn’t toss them in the recycle bin like we do. Every time a cyber pilot was assigned to a new base, or even to a new office, all of their Fone noms had to be changed. A nom was tied to a specific desk if you can believe it, not to a specific person. In fact the idea of a nom was completely unheard of back then. And get this, kids. A nom was composed of a bunch of numbers back then. You couldn’t Fone anybody with a picture or a voco.

In General Lord’s day, tens of thousands of sergeants would be deployed to dangerous combat zones where they stretched wires between buildings just so people could use Fones. Wire stretching was such an important job that General Lord insisted that his sergeants should be treated like aircraft mechanics. But as we all know, children, the world doesn’t need to tether a Fone to a desk with wires strung between buildings. The need for combat wire stretchers eventually went away.

And children, did you know General Lord used to view documents on real tree paper? It’s true! He had a second “printer” on his desk just for that purpose. Back then, the world was a lot like the Babylonians who viewed documents on papyrus. Like everything else, both of his printers were tethered to his desk with wires. General Lord’s desk was cluttered with wires and tree paper back then.

Now, boys and girls, do any of you know how powerful your Fone is? General Lord would need 63 billion wire-tethers and 17 billion desks just to equal what your little Fone can do. And even that’s not enough! You see, General Lord couldn’t even tell his Fones what to do: Fones weren’t powerful enough to understand voice commands in his day. He had to enter each command with his fingers and he had to put up with many different types and styles of hand buds.

And get this, kids. The entire military had tens of millions of Fones back then, but they couldn’t even boinc out a solution for any problem they faced…

As you may know, USAF downgraded their cyberspace role from its important status as a major command … to the mundane status of just a numbered air force.

Out of curiosity … did Major General William T. Lord have a “flying exec”?

The implosion of “AFCYBER” means I may never know the answer to a simple question. I’ve always wondered if commanding general William T. Lord had a flying exec like other flag officers in operational positions.

A “flying exec” is slang for an Air Force combat pilot who pulls double duty, flying both an aircraft and a desk. They serve as an executive assistant to a colonel or a general — yet they continue to slip the surly bonds of earth.

So. If General Lord had a flying exec … what did he/she fly & fight with? Perhaps a Dell 2950 rack-mounted server, flown from a ClearCube ground-control station…

The U.S. Air Force routinely holds a “Corona” meeting where top generals make course corrections for their military branch. At their latest shindig, they downgraded cyberspace from the “mission essential” status of a major command … to the “mission component” status of a numbered air force.

“We ripped the guts out of your project at the last possible second. Con­grat­u­la­tions! You get a medal…”

Indeed, the brand-new Secretary of the Air Force didn’t even mention cyber in his top five near-term priorities. This guy seems far more concerned about a wayward nuke than a wayward network. Go figure.

Still, AFCYBER managed to pump out an upbeat press release. Commanding general William T. Lord — the man who fathered a stillborn MAJCOM — did his best to explain how “the operation was a success even though the patient died.” But hey, they at least gave him another patient to work on. That should keep him occupied for awhile.

To be honest: Lord’s got a point about the “success” of his efforts. His mothballed Strategic Air Command would have taken on new life as Communications Cyberspace Command … if USAF hadn’t ironically fumbled SAC’s old nuclear football.

So. When it’s all said & done, USAF will pin medals on the midwives who delivered this stillborn. I anticipate the following quotas:

• E3-E5 and O1 will receive an Achievement Medal;
• E6-E7 and O2-O3E will receive a Commendation Medal;
• E8-E9, O4-O5, plus “lesser” O6 will receive a Meritorious Service Medal; and
• Senior staffers will receive more gratuitous medals that rank above the Bronze Star.

And everybody’s performance report will, of course, make it sound like he/she actually did stand up a major command.

In all fairness, I shouldn’t criticize the medals; nor should I criticize the performance reports. Why? Because the decision to gut this project came from USAF’s very highest eschelon. Everyone involved — even Lord — can honestly say “it all occurred way above my pay grade.” When something like this happens, you issue a press release to say the Corona decision “makes sense” and then you move on.

Yes yes yes, so their production got whacked at the eleventh hour. Yes yes yes, so the scope of their objective got cut from a MAJCOM to a NAF. But that’s no reason not to celebrate! Bartender, a round of cyber medals for everyone…

THE COUNCIL ON Foreign Relations held a roundtable with Major General William T. Lord, the top digital pilot at Air Force Cyberspace Command. The press gave him some ink over the following quote:

“Perhaps we need a different kind of warrior in this domain. Today, all of our armed forces have a physical fitness test… Perhaps that’s not the right construct for these kinds of kids in the future… How do you attract the brains of some of this crowd that you might not want to wire up to a polygraph, but yet use their wonderful innovative ability. But they’re not the same kind of folks that perhaps you want to march to breakfast in the morning.”

It sounds like the general subscribes to a Hollywood version of hackers who’d be declared “4F” if not for their amazing criminal minds. This, my friends, is just one more thing I find wrong with today’s “cyberspace” leadership.

Lord wants you to think the Air Force only just started to look at hackers. Bah! When I enlisted as a “3C0X2″ (computer programmer) in 1982, I was surrounded by socially inept hackers with acceptable physical standards who started off the day with a can of soda back when coffee was the only acceptable morning beverage. Computer programmers were a unique species even back then, having been specifically trained at Tech School to ask “why?” whenever someone told them to do something a certain way.

And guys like me, who got to write software for NATO Intelligence? I assure you we were the weird ones in our crowd. We’d wear dickies with our fatigue uniforms just because NATO allowed it. If eight of us wanted lunch, we’d march all the way to the chow hall in formation just to screw with traffic. Naturally, our formations always crossed against the red lights.

And yes: we crashed that multimillion-dollar production NATO mainframe (twice!) to demonstrate a flaw deep within in its NSA-approved MLS OS.

As my career matured into the 1990s, I watched the same kids as me coming through the pipeline. They drank sodas in the morning just like I did and they couldn’t date a girl to save their life. They took great pride in messing around with the Air Force bureaucracy.

At the end of my career in 2003-07, I watched the new batch come through the pipeline and they’re exactly like the guys I hung out with. Sure: they can buy more toys than I grew up with, and they can type on a mobile phone almost as fast as I type on a keyboard, and they’ve racked up some “tent time” in the barren lands of Iraq & Afghanistan (just like I did). But deep down, they’re the same as always — a bunch of nerdy little dweebs who can look at the back of a malfunctioning Cisco router and instantly realize it has exceeded its bandwidth limit for serial plane zero … yet who turn into Forrest Gump whenever they bump into a cute female airman wearing pink lipstick.

Ignore General Lord and listen to me, folks. I have absolutely no doubt the Air Force will find the kids they need to wear a uniform. They’ve been putting kids like me into uniforms for decades! As for the hackers who can’t survive two months of basic training? Bah. Let them pick up a military contractor job with Microsoft or Symantec — if their rap sheets don’t stop them from getting a security clearance in the first place.

USAF RIGHT NOW is cluttered — dare I say “choked”? — with bureaucrats. Choked with people like General Lord who subscribe to the Hollywood view of what their troops should be. Choked with people like Captain Goza who don’t even know what “cyber” means. And then there are the worst of the bunch: people who drool at “cyber” as a means to pad their officer evaluations and civilian performance reports. They don’t have a clue how to bring it all together but hey, the Chief of Staff told them to stand up a cyber mission and they’re going to be the ones who get a Meritorious Service Medal for doing it!

I’ve bumped into heaven-knows-how-many idiots who claim they were the first ones to kick-start the Air Force cyberspace mission in some obscenely obscure fashion. “Well, not to brag, but I’m the guy that wrote that classified ‘just thinking outside the box’ email to JJ (that’s retired chief of staff John Jumper, back then just the commander of 9th Air Force) asking him why his folks were doing X instead of Y, and I’m happy to say that JJ wrote me back to say that was a great idea and he’d put one of his best light-birds right on it…”

The Air Force suffers from too many shallow thinkers in cyberspace. You can identify them by the way they answer a single question. “What does USAF mean by ’sovereign options’ in cyberspace?” The shallow ones will start off with a bunch of hemming & hawing, followed by gobbledygook. “Well, you see, um, the Air Force cyberspace operations give us the ‘pointy end of the spear,’ helping us to synergistically complement and coalesce all kinetic and non-kinetic weapon systems at our disposal…” Try not to smirk when you identify them. It ruins the mood of the moment.

But when you do identify these people, I implore you to drive a knife into their egos. “That’s very interesting! You know, security critic Rob Rosenberger argues that USAF will all but lose its first cyberwar due to a fundamental flaw in its ’sovereign options’ doctrine. What’s your opinion of that flaw?” Again, try not to smirk. It ruins the mood of the moment.

Mark my words. We’re going to pay life insurance for some people in uniform in a real cyberwar. We’re going to lose lives tomorrow thanks to today’s shallow self-serving bureaucrats — and if you recall my prediction from 2002, I said we’ll lose lives twice thanks to those very same self-serving bureaucrats. I want those bureaucrats to get out of the way so the real cyber warriors can reshape the Air Force.

“Okay Rob, who are the real cyber warriors and who are the fakes?” Excellent question. I’ll paraphrase George Carlin. If you’re in cyberspace and you feel like you’re part of the solution, then you may very well be part of the solution. But if you run around in public telling people “I’m in cyberspace and I’m part of the solution,” then you’re part of the problem. Get out of the way.