In the early 90s, when the word 'cybersecurity' has just been coined, I had the privilege of crossing paths with a man who would later be known as the world's most famous hacker - Kevin Mitnick.
I was, at the time, a counterintelligence specialist and a former undercover cop, more comfortable with the world of HUMINT, human elicitation and counter-elicitation, than with the mysterious world of ones and zeros. Tasked to protect critical infrastructure from “Kevins,” I researched him in depth. Eventually, I reached out to him. Without any pretense, I told him exactly why I wanted to meet him. My first expectation was that he’d ignore me or reject me. Even if he’d agree to meet, I expected a guarded, elusive figure. And that was ok, even his initial reaction would have told me a lot about what kind of person he is.
Instead, I found a man who was open, kind, funny, and eager to share his knowledge. His willingness to help someone who ostensibly should be his enemy was a complete surprise for me. Having, until then, mainly dealt with grumpy old intelligence officers that mentored me via various bear-waking-up-from-hibernation grumbles, operators with a sense of humour as dry as the desert they operated in, and psychopathic criminals, talking to Kevin was a joy. He removed my fear of ones and zeros and showed me how my uniquely human skills could serve me well in the world of digital and infosec.
Like many others on Twitter today, I can also say that I can thank Kevin for my career change. I just wished I told him that before. He changed not only my life, but the whole field of cybersecurity with his unique blend of humour, humanity, and hacking prowess.
You will be missed, but your legacy will continue to inspire and guide us. Rest in bytes, Kevin.
#RIPKevinMitnick