On some mornings, I grab a cup of coffee from our break room and sit watching the city as it goes about its workday before my own workplace has woken up. The joggers pass by. Delivery vans disappear into narrow alleyways. With sleepy thumbs they unlock their phones and begin private lives for the day.
I’ve always noticed that most of them just open without even thinking about it. Banking applications. Health records. Personal messages. Every app becomes a door, and the phone is a vault. From my experience with mobile app development Atlanta, even if someone is too tired to think about what could go wrong, each of those doors has to stay shut firmly-in-place.
I once helped a small pharmacy in Atlanta develop an application for their loyalty program. Most of their customers were elderly and only wanted to easily refill their prescription medications. Convenience was key. But those prescriptions carried intimate stories that should never be exposed to any outsider-for example, diagnoses, habits, and problems.
A lump formed in my throat as I watched one man with slightly shaking hands log in during testing. If we made even the smallest, most thoughtless mistake, a piece of his life could fall into the wrong hands.
The first step to security is remembering who’s holding the phone.
“It’s what users don’t see that keeps them safe,” a developer on my team once said. He was correct, but there’s a catch. They may just as well be in danger from the things they don’t grasp.
An hurried request for authorization.
a poor reset flow.
A quiet background request with no explanation.
They tap when the day has been long and their patience is short. That’s what attackers count on. So we build for real life, not ideal.
I have seen many users accept and admit the blame when something scary happens.
“I must have tapped something by mistake.”
“I believed it was genuine.”
That is a sad thing. There should not be the perfect behavior before allowing safety. Real safety is in helping users succeed even when they are distracted, worried, or unsure.
The app should be the first to notice a problem.
The app should ask fewer questions that appear to be blaming.
The app ought to softly come between the user and the risk.
Some security looks like hard instructions written on the door. Other security feels soft, as if a good friend just walks along with you.
That is our target-the friend.
Signals remain clear.
Words stay calm.
Alerts that are informative instead of shocking.
When a person understands the reason protection is in place, he does not freak out at every permission screen. He simply settles down into the experience.
Sometimes it happens that I am driving home late after an unexpected shower, my headlights reflecting off wet blacktop. Tonight, I think about all these applications out there, quietly protecting those who depend on them.
No applause.
Everyone is asleep.
Just protection working in the background.
What I have come to learn through the years within this industry is that secure software does not involve placing the biggest locks on it. Secure software protects normal users automatically, without making them responsible for protecting themselves.
Because there is a real human being behind every click who wants to feel safe in their environment.
And we provide these safeguards so people may sleep without worrying that anything crucial will disappear while they're asleep. In short, we make indemnity provisions for all those things which might possibly be lost meanwhile-until 'morning'-while humans are resting or sleeping.