Opinion

SHOHAM GEVA
EDITOR IN CHIEF

CLAIRE BRYAN 

AND REGAN DETWILER 
EDITORIAL PAGE EDITORS

LAURA SCHINAGLE
MANAGING EDITOR

420 Maynard St. 

Ann Arbor, MI 48109

 tothedaily@michigandaily.com

Edited and managed by students at 

the University of Michigan since 1890.

Unsigned editorials reflect the official position of the Daily’s editorial board. 

All other signed articles and illustrations represent solely the views of their authors.

The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
4A — Wednesday, March 16, 2016

O

f all the concerning things 
in the world of politics, leg-
islating math has to be one 

of the wildest 
things 
politi-

cians 
could 

try to get away 
with.

Most notori-

ously, a bill in 
Indiana penned 
back 
in 
1897, 

later 
termed 

the “Indiana Pi 
Bill,” was intro-
duced to make a 
certain mathe-
matical method of “squaring the cir-
cle” officially established by law. It’s 
no mistake that “squaring the circle” 
has become a euphemism for doing 
the impossible, because it is, in fact, 
impossible. For whatever reason, 
someone’s erroneous proof some-
how made it into the legislature, 
and if it were to have passed, this 
bill would’ve had weird secondary 
consequences such as technically 
making the value of pi in the state 
of Indiana 3.2 by state law. Clear-
ly, mathematical laws saw that’s 
impossible.

It’s a ridiculous idea — math can’t 

be legislated, as it rests outside the 
domain of the law. Perhaps you could 
chalk that law up to just to its occur-
rence in the 19th century, but even 
today we see direct applications of 
mathematics attempted to be legis-
lated, as state legislatures in Califor-
nia and New York have introduced 
bills that would ban encryption that 
is unbreakable to law enforcement 
in personal devices. Taking it a step 
further, United Kingdom Prime 
Minister David Cameron is on record 
as wishing to ban strong encryption 
entirely, which elicited responses 
from the technical community that 
stated Cameron very literally “had 
no idea what he was proposing.” 
Because at its core, encryption is 
simply a widely available application 
of mathematics, such that Wikipedia 
co-founder Jimmy Wales directly 
compared that a ban on encryption 
would be like banning a form of 
mathematics itself.

Encrypted data is like some secret 

code, used to scramble messages or 
data in way such that it’s unable to be 
read by any unauthorized third party 
who does not have the decryption 
key. It’s publically available in many 
different forms, and when properly 
designed using things like large key-
spaces and other cryptographic tech-
niques, the code becomes extremely 
hard to crack even with millions of 
dollars of computer hardware. In 
the realm of technology, it’s used on 
individual devices to privatize data, 
usually to prevent access by a thief 
or other unauthorized party, but is 
also applied to communications and 
Internet traffic for everyday users 
to prevent others from snooping on 
their activity. In a nutshell, address-
es starting with “https” encrypt the 
transmitted data, while those start-

ing with “http” are unsecured. 

It’s a major defense against tools 

that are used to commit crimes like 
identity theft, which the Depart-
ment of Justice’s Bureau of Justice 
Statistics estimates to affect 17.6 mil-
lion Americans a year at a total cost 
of $15.4 billion. Along with a right 
to privacy, encryption has become 
the backbone of safely using devices 
on the Internet, but it’s this safe pri-
vacy that has caught the ire of law 
enforcement as it prevents them 
from accessing possible evidence 
from devices used by perpetrators.

The debate between privacy advo-

cates and law enforcement came 
to a head this past month when 
Apple published a customer let-
ter announcing they would refuse 
to comply and fight a court order to 
weaken the security on their devic-
es so officials could access a phone 
used by one of the suspects in the 
San Bernadino shooting case. The 
FBI argued it would be a one-time 
deal, while Apple in its customer 
letter said such an action would cre-
ate dangerous standards that would 
undermine the security that pro-

tects all of its customers. While one 
should be sympathetic to the cause 
of investigators in these cases, Apple 
is right.

Since October 2015, government 

authorities have also requested 
access to 12 other iPhones under the 
jurisdiction of the ancient All Writs 
Act of 1789. Despite their insistence 
on needing Apple’s help, 11 of these 
devices run older versions of Apple’s 
iOS software with existing public 
vulnerabilities that would allow 
investigators to extract the data. It 
presents the fact that the FBI and 
investigators aren’t just looking for 
the data: The FBI is looking for a 
precedent that would either weaken 
encryption or insert some “back-
door” into the encryption that would 
allow them access to any phone.

On the surface, it seems OK: The 

authorities could only seize your 
phone with a warrant, and they’re 
the only ones who would be able to 
break the encryption. However, such 
an ideal is a great risk. It’s already 
incredibly difficult to write secure 
software, and writing it in a way 
such that only the “good guys” can 
break through the security is some-
thing that security experts say to be 

somewhere in between impossible 
and an incredible risk. If there is to 
be a solution to this seeming trad-
eoff between rights to privacy and 
impedance of investigations, one 
that involves weakening the privacy 
of everyday consumers and putting 
them at risk of attack from nefari-
ous citizens cannot be it. And bills 
that go to even greater extents, such 
as one being pushed in the United 
Kingdom that would force back-
doors in both device and Internet 
encryption, would have devastating 
effects. Encryption is what makes 
so much of using the Internet, com-
puters and smartphones possible. 
Weaken it and take it away and 
you’ve turned cyberspace into the 
wild west, hurting only the every-
day citizens who rely on their tech-
nology every day.

One of the few congressmen with 

a background in computer science, 
Rep. Ted Lieu (D–Cal.), introduced 
a federal bill that would stop states 
from instituting their own bans on 
the sale of encrypted devices. Such 
bans, despite valid public safety 
concerns that are the cause for their 
introduction, simply aren’t practi-
cal at all, as it’s impossible to stop 
the flow of technology through 
borders, even in places with strong 
laws against it like China does. The 
technical 
community, 
including 

behemoths like Microsoft, Google, 
Bill Gates and many other figures, 
has come out almost unanimously 
in support of Apple in this case. The 
Department of Justice, in a brief, 
even suggested that they could com-
pel Apple to turn over their source 
code to the FBI, presenting a scenar-
io where the government itself could 
write in the backdoors (like they’ve 
already been accused of doing in 
many other pieces of software 
through the National Security Agen-
cy). The fact that these tech com-
panies could be forced to become 
puppets of the justice system to this 
extreme should be alarming, and the 
technical community sees that.

For now, the courts have sided 

with Apple in a similar case, such 
that Apple will not have to introduce 
exploits in their system available 
for use by law enforcement. While 
many lawmakers and citizens will 
try to see nuance in the issue and say 
there must be some middle ground 
between privacy and law, there’s 
an unfortunate reality that in cases 
like these, when it comes to techni-
cal encryption, we’re faced with 
an all-or-nothing approach where 
introducing backdoors or weaken-
ing standards is not a viable solution. 
The cases are tragic, but using them 
as emotional catalysts to seize an 
opportunity to strengthen investiga-
tive positions in a way that harms the 
everyday interactions with technol-
ogy is far more authoritarian than 
the situation warrants.

— David Harris can be reached 

at daharr@umich.edu

Legislating math

DAVID 
HARRIS

Claire Bryan, Regan Detwiler, Caitlin Heenan, Jeremy Kaplan, 

Ben Keller, Minsoo Kim, Payton Luokkala, Kit Maher, Madeline Nowicki, 

Anna Polumbo-Levy, Jason Rowland, Lauren Schandevel, 

Melissa Scholke, Kevin Sweitzer, Rebecca Tarnopol, Ashley Tjhung,

Stephanie Trierweiler, Hunter Zhao

EDITORIAL BOARD MEMBERS

Race Across Michigan

I

t had been a frantic morning, and there 
was no indication that my mind would be 
any less frenzied any time soon. After a 

three-hour class on North 
Campus, I had a window 
of roughly 35 minutes to 
walk from C.C. Little to my 
apartment across campus, 
switch my lofty art portfo-
lio for my backpack, maybe 
grab a snack before head-
ing out the door and walk 
back to Central to get 
to my class at 1 p.m. An 
emptied coffee thermos 
was firmly gripped in my 
right hand while my left 
was busy ensuring my portfolio — which 
is admittedly almost as long as my body — 
remained securely in its place as it hung 
from my shoulder. The abnormally strong 
wind manipulated the movement of both my 
portfolio and me as I neared the intersec-
tion for my street.

Admittedly, I tend to tune out entirely by 

listening to my iPod whenever I’m walking 
somewhere. Yet, at this moment, calls from 
across the street drowned out my music, 
and I looked to see two men looking at me, 
trying to get my attention, laughing and 
obnoxiously calling out at me to come over 
to their side of the street.

An all-too-familiar uneasiness set in. I 

stood there, waiting for the light to change 
and frustrated by the fact that the path to 
my apartment was going to lead me across 
the street and directly in front of them. I 
tried to ignore the situation until the signal 
changed. Donning a look of indifference, I 
tried to pass by quickly and continue on my 
way. One tried to ask me a question and, when 
I didn’t promptly respond, his companion 
expressed disappointment that I apparently 
“don’t talk.”

I was swallowing every single word.
No, I didn’t talk, because the potential con-

sequences were too ambiguous, and years of 
experience taught me to remain quiet. I con-
tained my frustration until I entered my apart-
ment. My silence and flustered expression as I 
walked in immediately signaled to my room-
mate that something was bothering me. As I 
turned toward the living room, I shouted for a 
brief moment, startling my roommate.

I explained my exasperation, and she 

understood and empathized. It wasn’t the 
first time either one of us had been cat-called, 
and that was the problem. This was far from 
the first time. My experience encountering 
street harassment began right before I start-
ed college, and since then, these moments 
of anxiety and insecurity have grown to be 
a common occurrence. Each instance of cat-
calling or street harassment that I encounter 
leaves me feeling self-conscious, confused 
and frustrated, and I imagine a similar sce-
nario exists for a variety of women.

I complained about the incident to a 

friend via text, and he suggested I had 
enough emotion and material to write an 
article about it. As much as I wanted to, I 
dismissed the idea, arguing that I’d written 
about this topic too much before. Like I said, 
this wasn’t the first time, and I was worried 
I’d start to sound redundant and unoriginal.

A few weeks after I had brushed the sug-

gestion aside, I traveled with another friend 
for Spring Break. As we were walking along 
the street toward the downtown area one 
night to grab dinner, a car honked multiple 
times as it passed by us. Then another car 

full of guys yelled out at us as it drove by. I 
jumped slightly as the second car passed, but 
my friend remained calm and collected. The 
cars were then, of course, a subject of conver-
sation for us while we walked back, but it was 
a short discussion.

She and I were both annoyed by the situ-

ation and the guys’ demeaning behavior. 
But the matter-of-fact tone we both used 
caught my attention. We mentioned the inci-
dent briefly and moved on. It wasn’t novel or 
shocking to us. My friend had warned me that 
tended to happen to her each year she visited 
this particular town for Spring Break.

Our complacent reactions began to bother 

me shortly afterward. Street harassment 
shouldn’t be so ingrained into a woman’s life 
that, to a certain degree, she just expects it, 
shrugging it off nonchalantly whenever it 
does occur. Why was I so worried about dis-
cussing the topic when it obviously wasn’t 
going to dissipate from society any time soon? 
According to a 2014 survey conducted by Stop 
Street Harassment, 65 percent of women 
report experiencing street harassment of 
some form. Additionally, 90 percent of the 811 
respondents in an online 2008 study encoun-
tered street harassment by the age of 19.

While cat-calling may often be associated 

with female victims, it’s certainly not an issue 
exclusive to women. Roughly 25 percent of 
men reported experiencing street harassment 
in the 2014 survey, and of these men, a larg-
er percentage were members of the LGBTQ 
community. Those with marginalized iden-
tities are disproportionately harassed and 
scrutinized in public, whether for their gen-
der, their race, their sexual orientation, their 
religion or their gender identity.

For individuals who experience harassment 

on a regular basis, it’s not a joke. It’s certainly 
not a compliment. It’s a form of an intimida-
tion and a not-so-subtle way of communicating 
that someone doesn’t deserve to feel comfort-
able and safe in the public sphere. There’s 
absolutely no reason why anyone should be 
subjected to objectification and intimidation 
when they’re merely trying to go about their 
day. I don’t care what a woman or a man may 
be wearing. (Though, taking my experience 
into account, I particularly can’t comprehend 
how anyone could claim my oversized sweater 
and messy ponytail were attempts to attract 
attention to myself.)

I write this acknowledging that street 

harassment, or cat-calling, is a societal 
problem with no easy, immediate solution. 
My encounters with this issue began around 
the age of 18 and will most likely continue 
for many more years to come. For others 
from different races, religions and commu-
nities, their experiences may differ vastly in 
severity and frequency. Regardless, these 
experiences need to be recounted and retold 
as frequently as they occur.

Over break, I read essays by Rebecca Sol-

nit, and one section of her essay, “Pandora’s 
Box and the Volunteer Police Force,” stood 
out to me. She writes, “Saying that every-
thing is fine or that it will never get any bet-
ter are ways of going nowhere or of making 
it impossible to go anywhere.”

When my friend first suggested I write 

about street harassment, I thought it was 
redundant and wouldn’t make anything 
better. However, it’s the insistent act of con-
tinually writing and making voices heard 
that leads to significant change.

— Melissa Scholke can be reached 

at melikaye@umich.edu.

We must share our stories

MELISSA 
SCHOLKE

“Encryption is 
what makes so 

much of using the 
Internet, computers 

and smartphones 

possible.”

O

n Saturday, 65 students, 
myself 
included, 
will 

grudgingly leave the warm 

confines of our 
beds, don running 
tights and various 
thermal 
layers 

and quickly pack a 
change of clothes 
before 
heading 

out into the cold. 
We’ll then meet, 
still slightly dis-
oriented, at the 
Cube 
before 
5 

a.m. to start the 
University 
of 

Michigan Running Club’s 8th annual 
Race Across Michigan.

When I first entered the Uni-

versity in August of 2012, I knew I 
wanted to keep running. Through 
high school, running provided a 
tight-knit community of friends 
and a good way to vanquish the 
seemingly daunting decisions that 
high school students face. Though 
I loved the community, I wasn’t 
sure that I would continue running 
competitively in college. As a reli-
ably mediocre runner who never 
entertained the idea of running at 
a Division III school, winning the 
slow heat at track meets didn’t feed 
such a fantasy.

A sub-par coach through high 

school further fueled my dissolu-

tion. Through the fortune of never 
being injured himself, he expected 
that his athletes would remain 
injury-free, too. This expecta-
tion, in some respects, created an 
unnecessarily 
stressful 
experi-

ence for our whole team.

During welcome week of my 

freshman year, though, another 
student piqued my interest in the 
Michigan Running Club, MRun for 
short. I dithered about first semes-
ter, attending some races and social 
events, but not really having my 
heart set on the club. At the begin-
ning of my second semester, I heard 
about RAM.

Every year, MRun runs 184 miles 

across the state of Michigan from 
Detroit to South Haven along Michi-
gan Avenue in less than 24 hours. We 
run it as a relay, i.e. groups of run-
ners run in 5 to 25 mile shifts. For 
the last five years, we have raised 
money for the Special Olympics of 
Washtenaw County. Though our 
event supports an exceptional orga-
nization, it interests me for another 
more important reason: It encapsu-
lates the very ethos of MRun.

In the 36 or so hours that we are 

together, crammed in University 
vehicles, we have a unique and oth-
erwise unequalled opportunity to 
better MRun’s community. MRun 
includes DI talent to hobby joggers. 
We welcome students who want to 

train for varsity tryouts, students 
who want to get a run in once or 
twice a week to stay in shape and 
everyone in between. While there 
is occasional tension between the 
opposite sides of this spectrum 
— how couldn’t there be? — each 
individual has quirks that make 
up the fabric of our club. Everyone 
has their unique place in our com-
munity. Our strength lies in our 
familiarity with each other and 
RAM is an essential building block 
of that familiarity.

RAM was where I learned to 

unconditionally 
appreciate 
the 

imperfections of MRun. While we 
all have different goals in our train-
ing, and all want something differ-
ent from the club, we come together 
for the entirety of RAM to work 
toward one goal: to safely traverse 
the state of Michigan as a team.

Throughout RAM, each partici-

pant goes through differing levels 
of intense affection and distaste for 
each other. Though we are tired, 
both mentally and physically, and 
by 3 a.m. mostly just asleep, the fact 
that we manage to complete RAM 
is not only a testament to our indi-
vidual endurance, but the power of 
shared resolve among what MRun 
truly is: a family.

— Danny Sack can be reached 

at sackd@umich.edu.

DANNY 
SACK

E-mail annE at asturpin@umich.Edu
ANNE TURPIN

