As I’ve mentioned a few times here before, one of the biggest problems in measurement studies of Web censorship is taking the measurement from the right place. The easiest thing (and this may still be difficult) is to get access to a commercial VPN exit or university server inside each country of interest. But commercial data centers and universities have ISPs that are often somewhat less aggressive about censorship than residential and mobile ISPs in the same country—we think.  And, if the country is big enough, it probably has more than one residential ISP, and there’s no reason to think they behave exactly the same.   What we’d really like is to enlist spare CPU cycles on a horde of residential computers across all of the countries we’re interested in.
This paper proposes a way to do just that. The authors propose to add a script to globally popular websites which, when the browser is idle, runs tests of censorship. Thus, anyone who visits the website will be enlisted. The first half of the paper is a technical demonstration that this is possible, and that you get enough information out of it to be useful. Browsers put a bunch of restrictions on what network requests a script can make—you can load an arbitrary webpage in an invisible
<iframe>, but you don’t get notified of errors and the script can’t see the content of the page; conversely,
<img> can only load images, but a script can ask to be notified of errors. Everything else is somewhere in between. Nonetheless, the authors make a compelling case for being able to detect censorship of entire websites with high accuracy and minimal overhead, and a somewhat less convincing case for being able to detect censorship of individual pages (with lower accuracy and higher overhead). You only get a yes-or-no answer for each thing probed, but that is enough for many research questions that we can’t answer right now. Deployment is made very easy, a simple matter of adding an additional third-party script to websites that want to participate.
The second half of the paper is devoted to ethical and practical considerations. Doing this at all is controversial—in a box on the first page, above the title of the paper, there’s a statement from the SIGCOMM 2015 program committee, saying the paper almost got rejected because some reviewers felt it was unethical to do anything of the kind without informed consent by the people whose computers are enlisted to make measurements. SIGCOMM also published a page-length review by John Byers, saying much the same thing. Against this, the authors argue that informed consent in this case is of dubious benefit, since it does not reduce the risk to the enlistees, and may actually be harmful by
removing any traces of plausible deniability. They also point out that many people would need a preliminary course in how Internet censorship works and how Encore measures it before they could make an informed choice about whether to participate in this research. Limiting the pool of enlistees to those who already have the necessary technical background would
dramatically reduce the scale and scope of measurements. Finally they observe that the benefits of collecting this data are clear, whereas the risks are nebulous. In a similar vein, George Danezis wrote a rebuttal of the public review, arguing that the reviewers’ concerns are based on a superficial understanding of what ethical research in this area looks like.
Let’s be concrete about the risks involved. Encore modifies a webpage such that web browsers accessing it will, automatically and invisibly to the user, also access a number of unrelated webpages (or resources). By design, those unrelated webpages contain material which is considered unacceptable, perhaps to the point of illegality, in at least some countries. Moreover, it is known that these countries mount active MITM attacks on much of the network traffic exiting the country, precisely to detect and block access to unacceptable material. Indeed, the whole point of the exercise is to provoke an observable response from the MITM, in order to discover what it will and won’t respond to.
The MITM has the power to do more than just block access. It almost certainly records the client IP address of each browser that accesses undesirable material, and since it’s operated by a state, those logs could be used to arrest and indict people for accessing illegal material. Or perhaps the state would just cut off their Internet access, which would be a lesser harm but still a punishment. It could also send back malware instead of the expected content (we don’t know if that has ever happened in real life, but very similar things have ), or turn around and mount an attack on the site hosting the material (this definitely has happened ). It could also figure out that certain accesses to undesirable material are caused by Encore and ignore them, causing the data collected to be junk, or it could use Encore itself as an attack vector (i.e. replacing the Encore program with malware).
In addition to the state MITM, we might also want to worry about other adversaries in a position to monitor user behavior online, such as employers, compromised coffee shop WiFi routers, and user-tracking software. Employers may have their own list of material that people aren’t supposed to access using corporate resources. Coffee shop WiFi is probably interested in finding a way to turn your laptop into a botnet zombie; any unencrypted network access is a chance to inject some malware. User-tracking software might become very confused about what someone’s demographic is, and start hitting them with ads that relate to whatever controversial topic Encore is looking for censorship of. (This last might actually be a Good Thing, considering the enormous harms behavioral targeting can do. )
All of these are harm to someone. It’s important to keep in mind that except for poisoning the data collected by Encore (harm to the research itself) all of them can happen in the absence of Encore. Malware, ad networks, embedded videos, embedded
like buttons, third-party resources of any kind: all of these can and do cause a client computer to access material without its human operator’s knowledge or consent, including accesses to material that some countries consider undesirable. Many of them also offer an active MITM the opportunity to inject malware.
The ethical debate over this paper has largely focused on increased risk of legal, or quasilegal, sanctions taken against people whose browsers were enlisted to run Encore tests. I endorse the authors’ observation that informed consent would actually make that risk worse. Because there are so many reasons a computer might contact a network server without its owner’s knowledge, people already have plausible deniability regarding accesses to controversial material (i.e.
I never did that, it must have been a virus or something). If Encore told its enlistees what it was doing and gave them a chance to opt out, it would take that away.
Nobody involved in the debate knows how serious this risk really is. We do know that many countries are not nearly as aggressive about filtering the Internet as they could be,  so it’s reasonable to think they can’t be bothered to prosecute people just for an occasional attempt to access stuff that is blocked. It could still be that they do prosecute people for bulk attempts to access stuff that is blocked, but Encore’s approach—many people doing a few tests—would tend to avoid that. But there’s enough uncertainty that I think the authors should be talking to people in a position to know for certain: lawyers and activists from the actual countries of interest. There is not one word either in the papers or the reviews to suggest that anyone has done this. The organizations that the authors are talking to (Citizen Lab, Oxford Internet Institute, the Berkman Center) should have appropriate contacts already or be able to find them reasonably quickly.
Meanwhile, all the worry over legal risks has distracted from worrying about the non-legal risks. The Encore authors are fairly dismissive of the possibility that the MITM might subvert Encore’s own code or poison the results; I think that’s a mistake. They consider the extra bandwidth costs Encore incurs, but they don’t consider the possibility of exposing the enlistee to malware on a page (when they load an entire page). More thorough monitoring and reportage on Internet censorship might cause the censor to change its behavior, and not necessarily for the better—for instance, if it’s known that some ISPs are less careful about their filtering, that might trigger sanctions against them. These are just the things I can think of off the top of my head.
In closing, I think the controversy over this paper is more about the community not having come to an agreement about its own research ethics than it is about the paper itself. If you read the paper carefully, the IRB at each author’s institution did not review this research. They declined to engage with it. This was probably a correct decision from the board’s point of view, because an IRB’s core competency is medical and psychological research. (They’ve come in for criticism in the past for reviewing sociological studies as if they were clinical trials.) They do not, in general, have the background or expertise to review this kind of research. There are efforts underway to change that: for instance, there was a Workshop on Ethics in Networked Systems Research at the very same conference that presented this paper. (I wish I could have attended.) Development of a community consensus here will, hopefully, lead to better handling of future, similar papers.