Mar 4, 2026–Processes created to increase our security actually make us less secure.
One tangible example is door locking. As home and office security became more critical, the sophistication of locking mechanisms also grew. This made protected areas almost impossible to access.
But what was the typical homeowner’s response to the hazard of getting locked out of their own home? Simple. We hid the key under the doormat, on a window ledge, or inside one of those fake rocks. And every burglar knows this. The only thing the locks end up doing is making you cuss when you are trying to open the door while balancing three sacks of groceries on your arthritic knees.
This “increased security equals insecurity” actually manifested itself at the nexus of online security–Google. A tech insider tells of the time he attended a security conference at the search giant’s headquarters. Of course, entry to every room required an unbreakable passcode. Well, attendees did what attendees do at interminable meetings–have the urge to use the restrooms. Google execs did not want to share their codes with outsiders, so they did what any savvy custodian does–they propped open the door with a brick.
There they were, our electronic overlords defeating the security of the world’s most secure fortress with an Acme-brand brick. The coyote would be proud.
But where the security paradox most frequently manifests is something we deal with daily–creating passwords.
If you are anywhere near typical, you juggle dozens of passwords on a weekly basis. Every interaction requires a unique password–banking, ordering online, meal delivery, and every app that controls everything in our lives from the washing machine to the doorbell.
I, personally, have 641 passwords.
Six hundred forty-one.
When computers first intruded into our lives, we were content with simple ones. Usually 12345678 or “password.”
Then our IT nerds requested more complicated ones. So we capitalized the initial letter and changed the letter “o” to the number “zero”–“Passw0rd.”
You know where this goes. Soon your bank was requiring a capital letter, a number, a punctuation character, standing on one leg, and holding your breath.
Passwords became so complex you had a hard time recreating it to type it in the required second time.
So what did we all do? We wrote it on a sticky note and stuck it on the side of our monitor. Result? A protocol created to make our precious digital photos more secure ended up making them less secure. We’ve all seen the detective stories where the code to the safe is written on the bottom side of the desk drawer.
Lately I’ve been hearing that some of the best password protocol is to use short phrases. This turns out to offer a double advantage: nefarious types will never guess your vernacular use of language, and such phrases are easier to remember.
Examples are
OurBankSince1908
BuiltIt4Me?
TryToBeSocial
GiveMeOneMoreRide
MyDogHasFleas
I’ve added a third advantage to making up your own phrase–t allows you to vent your frustration and anger in a passive-aggressive manner. Examples of some I’ve used (modified of course):
LetMeIn!
RetirementIsMyEntitlement
CutMyTaxes$
KissMyGrits
TalkToMeDammit!
SmellMyFeet
Hard to forget those.
The password evolution roughly follows this scenario:
USELESS APP: Please enter your password.
USER: password
USELESS APP: Sorry. Password must be more than 8 characters.
USER: passwords
USELESS APP: Sorry. Password must contain 1 letter.
USER: passwords 1
USELESS APP: Sorry. Password cannot have blank spaces.
USER: passwords1
USELESS APP: Sorry. Password must contain at least one uppercase character.
USER: PASSwords1
USELESS APP: Sorry, the password cannot contain more than one uppercase character consecutively.
USER: PassWords1
USELESS APP: Sorry. The password requires at least one punctuation character.
USER: TakeThisWorthlessAppAndShoveItUpYourA**!
USELESS APP: Sorry. That password is taken.