social engineering – Page 3

December 19, 2005December 2, 2023

Deciding Who To Trust

This article is a bit different from most of my site: My other articles generally discuss specific vendors, their practices, and how they cause harm. This article offers a possible solution — from a company that, let me say at the outset, has invited me to join its advisory board. They didn’t ask me to write this; I’m writing on my own. And they don’t control me or what I write. But for those not interested in a commercial service that may help protect users from spyware, please read no further.

Much of the spyware problem results from users visiting sites that turn out to be untrustworthy or simply malevolent. I’m certainly not inclined to blame the victimized users — it’s hardly their fault that sites run security exploits, offer undisclosed advertising software, or show tricky EULAs that are dozens of pages long. But the resulting software ultimately ends up on users’ computers because users browsed to sites that didn’t pan out.

How to fix this problem? In theory, it seems easy enough. First, someone needs to examine popular web sites, to figure out which are untrustworthy. Then users’ computers need to automatically notify them — warn them! — before users reach untrustworthy sites. These aren’t new ideas. Indeed, half a dozen vendors have tried such strategies in the past. But for various reasons, their efforts never solved the problem. (Details below).

This month, a new company is announcing a system to protect users from untrustworthy web sites: SiteAdvisor. They’ve designed a set of robots — automated web crawlers, virtual machines, and databases — that have browsed hundreds of thousands of web sites. They’ve tracked which sites install spyware — what files installed, what registry changes, what network traffic. And they’ve built a browser plug-in that provides automated notification of worrisome sites — handy red balloons when users stray into risky areas, along with annotations on search result pages at leading search engines.

The SiteAdvisor Idea

I’ve long known that the best way to assess a web site’s trustworthiness is to examine and test the site. In general that’s remarkably time-consuming — requiring at least a few minutes of time, of a high-skill human researcher. But a tester is inevitably looking for a few basic characteristics. Does the site offer programs for download? If it does, do those programs come with bundled adware or spyware? In principle this is work better suited to a robot — a system that can perform tests around the clock, with full automation, in massive parallel, at far lower cost than a human staff person. SiteAdvisor has built such robots, and they’re running even as I write this. The results are impressive. See an example report.

Of course automated testing of web sites can find more than just spyware. What about spam? Whenever I see a web form that requests my email address, I always worry: Will the web site send me spam? Or sell my name to spammers? As with spyware, it’s a problem of trust. And it’s a problem SiteAdvisor can investigate. Fill out hundreds of thousands of forms, putting a different email address into each. Wait a few months and see which addresses get spam. Case closed.

To provide users with timely information about who to trust, SiteAdvisor has to put a plug-in into users’ browsers. In general I’m no fan of browser plug-ins; most plug-ins serve marketing companies’ interests (i.e. by showing ads) rather than actually helping users. But at just 92 pixels in width, SiteAdvisor’s plug-in is remarkably unobtrusive. I run it on my main PC, and it shares space otherwise left vacant by the Google Toolbar (the only other browser plug-in I accept). See first screenshot below, showing SiteAdvisor in action.

Of course there’s more to SiteAdvisor than just these pop-up balloons. If a user clicks “More” in a warning balloon, or otherwise searches the SiteAdvisor site, SiteAdvisor gives detailed information about the risks it found. These detailed “dossiers” report what downloads a site offers (and what software they bundle), as well as links to other sites (potentially hostile or tricky), emails (potential spam), and other areas of possible concern. See right image above, and additional screenshots.

My Role in SiteAdvisor – and How Others Can Help

I’ve been excited about SiteAdvisor — about their product, their technology, and (most importantly) their ability to help users with a serious problem — ever since I learned about the company. I’m so impressed that I agreed to join the company’s advisory board. I’m not involved in day-to-day operations, so specific suggestions are best sent to SiteAdvisor staff, not to me. That said, my relationship with SiteAdvisor is likely to be longer and deeper than my typical consulting gigs, reflecting the seriousness of my commitment to SiteAdvisor.

It’s not easy to design robots that automatically rate the web, and despite SiteAdvisor’s best efforts, their initial ratings aren’t quite perfect. With that in mind, they’re running a preview program. Interested readers can browse SiteAdvisor’s ratings and flag anything that seems wrong or incomplete. SiteAdvisor’s system anticipates its own fallibility — it offers numerous areas for users to contribute comments. There’s even space for reviewed web sites to comment on their ratings — for example, to explain why they think they’ve been unfairly criticized.

Why get involved? If you think, as I do, that SiteAdvisor will attract a large group of passionate users, then it’s sensible to help improve the reviews these users receive. Also, SiteAdvisor has produced an incredible dataset, which they’ll be sharing under a Creative Commons license. In the coming months, I’ll be using this data for research; I’m anticipating some exciting articles analyzing how and where users get infected with spyware. Meanwhile, preview participants get access to SiteAdvisor’s fascinating dossiers (example) — a great way to track which programs install which spyware.

SiteAdvisor in Context

As I mentioned above, SiteAdvisor isn’t the first group seeking to improve the web by rating web sites. But SiteAdvisor makes major advances over previous efforts.

An ActiveX installer with a misleading company name, purportedly “click yes to continue.”

Consider, for example, the code-signing system associated with ActiveX controls. (See example at right.) Anticipating security problems with ActiveX, Microsoft designed IE so that it only shows an ActiveX installation prompt if the ActiveX package is properly signed by an accredited code-signer like (in this example) VeriSign. VeriSign in turn sets criteria on who can receive these certificates. But despite these checks, the system turns out to be woefully insecure. For one, VeriSign wasn’t always tough in limiting who can get its certs. (The cert at right was issued a company calling itself “click yes to continue,” a highly misleading company name. Additional examples.) In addition, VeriSign’s main requirement is that a company provide a verifiable name. A company’s software may be highly objectionable — pop-up ads, privacy violations, spam zombies, you name it — but if the company gives its true name and pays VeriSign $200 to $600, then they’re likely to receive a certificate. After I criticized VeriSign’s cert-issuing practices this spring, VeriSign tightened its processes somewhat, but its Thawte subsidiary continues to issue certificates to companies that users rightly dislike. And other cert-issuers are even worse.

The ActiveX debacle shows at least three problems that can plague a certification system.

1) Certifying the wrong thing. ActiveX code-signing certifies characteristics of lesser concern to typical users. In particular, ActiveX code-signing it certifies that a vendor is who it says it is, and code-signing certifies that the specified vendor really did develop the program being offered. That’s a nice start, but it’s not what most users are most worried about other. Instead, users reasonably want to know: Is this program safe? Will it hurt my computer? As it turns out, a code-signing certificate says nothing about trustworthiness of the underlying code. But seeing the “verified” statement and VeriSign’s well-respected name, users mistakenly think code-signing means a program is sure to be safe.

2) Dependent on payment. I worry about certification businesses that receive payment from the companies being certified. If VeriSign issues a code-signing certificate, it gets paid $200 to $600. If it denies a cert, it gets $0. So it’s no surprise that lots of certificates get issued. I credit VeriSign’s good intentions, on the whole. But VeriSign staff face some odd and troubling incentives as they try to meet their code-signing financial objectives.

3) Complaints. There’s often no clear procedure for users to complain of improperly-issued certificates. I previously noted that VeriSign lacked a formal complaint and investigation process. After my article, VeriSign established a complaint form. But there are no public records of complaints received, of pending complaints, or of complaint dispositions. VeriSign may be doing a great job of handling complaints and of correcting any errors, but the public has no way to know.

Remarkably, these same problems plague other self-styled trust authorities. TRUSTe‘s main seal, its Web Privacy Seal, largely certifies that a web site has a privacy policy and that the site has agreed to resolve disputes in the way that TRUSTe requires. The policy might be highly objectionable and one-sided, but TRUSTe will still issue its seal. From the perspective of typical users, this is a “certifying the wrong thing” problem: Users expect TRUSTe to tell them that a site’s privacy policy is fair and that users can confidently provide personal information to the site, but in fact the certificate implies no such thing. (Indeed, six months after I revealed Direct Revenue, eZula, Hotbar, and Webhancer as TRUSTe certificate-holders, TRUSTe’s member list says all but eZula are all still members in good standing. In addition, these companies are known not for their web sites but for their advertising software — products TRUSTe’s certificate doesn’t cover at all. So TRUSTe’s certification is especially likely to mislead users seeking to evaluate these vendors.) Furthermore, TRUSTe receives much of its funding from the vendors it certifies, raising the worry of financial incentives to issue undeserved certificates. Finally, when I’ve sent complaints to TRUSTe, I haven’t always felt I received a prompt or appropriate response. So in my view TRUSTe suffers the same three problems I flag for the VeriSign/code-signing system.

TrustWatch certifies 180solutions as a “verified secure” site

TrustWatch‘s search engine and toolbar are superficially similar to SiteAdvisor: Both companies offer toolbars that claim to help users stay safe online. But TrustWatch suffers from the same kinds of mistakes described above. TrustWatch generally endorses a site if it has a certificate from GeoTrust, Entrust, TRUSTe, or HackerSafe. These groups vary in their respective policies, but none of them affirmatively checks for the privacy violations, spyware, spam, or other ill effects that users reasonably worry about. Instead, their focus is on SSL certificates — important for some purposes, but peripheral to today’s biggest security problems. Meanwhile, the TrustWatch endorsers charge for their certs — raising the payment problems flagged above. Predictably, TrustWatch’s system yields poor results. For example, TrustWatch certifies 180solutions and Direct Revenue with its highest “verified secure” rating. That’s an endorsement few security experts would share.

At least one certification system (besides SiteAdvisor) seems immune from the problems described above: Stan James‘ Outfoxed provides a non-profit self-organizing assessment of web site trustworthiness, based on recommendations from a web of trusted experts. Because individual users can decide which recommenders to trust, Outfoxed offers the prospect of ratings based on characteristics users actually care about — solving the “wrong thing” problem. Outfoxed doesn’t charge web sites for ratings, and Outfoxed’s relationship-based trust assessments can distribute meaningful feedback to assure rating accuracy. So Outfoxed addresses the problems described above, and I think it reflects a major step forward. That said, as a self-organizing system, Outfoxed needs a critical mass of experts in order to take off. I worry that it might not get there.

Separately, a few security firms have designed automated systems to seek out spyware. See Microsoft’s HoneyMonkeys and Webroot’s Phileas. But these projects only detect exploits. In particular, they don’t identify the social engineering and misleading installations that web users face with increasing regularity.

SiteAdvisor won’t suffer from the three major problems described above. SiteAdvisor tests the specific behaviors most objectionable to typical users — extra pop-up ads, privacy violations, gummed up PCs, and of course spam — and SiteAdvisor doesn’t give a site a green light just because it has an SSL cert or a posted privacy policy. SiteAdvisor won’t issue certifications upon payment of a fee. And in addition to soliciting an abundance of comments, SiteAdvisor promptly and automatically publishes comments for public review. So, though I’ve been critical of other certification systems, I’m truly excited about SiteAdvisor.

November 15, 2005December 2, 2023

What Claria Doesn’t Disclose (Any More)

Now that Claria no longer comes bundled with powerhouse distributors Kazaa and Grokster, and now that Claria has even terminated its fake-user-interface banner ads, one might reasonably wonder: How does Claria get onto users’ PCs? Last month I showed an example of Claria soliciting installations via banner ads served through other vendors’ spyware (which in turn had become installed without consent). But even Claria’s ordinary installations still fail to tell users what users reasonably need to know in order to make an informed choice. In particular, Claria’s current installations omit prominent mention of the word “pop-up” — the key word users need to read in order to understand what Claria is offering, and to decide whether to agree.

Claria’s Current Installation Procedure

Claria’s installations often begin with an innocuous-looking popup or popunder like the image below. These ads don’t mention Claria by name, don’t mention pop-ups or privacy consequences, and don’t mention any material adverse effects whatsoever. So it’s no surprise that users respond favorably to these offers.

Clicking one of Claria’s “free screensaver” ads yields a screen like that shown below. Users are specifically encouraged to click “yes.” Once a user presses “yes,” the user has no further opportunity to cancel installation of Claria’s software.

It’s well-known that users hate pop-up ads. But, tellingly, Claria currently fails to use the word “pop-up” anywhere in its on-screen disclosures. Claria calls its advertising “GAIN-branded ads,” conveniently omitting the one word — “pop-up” — that best and most concisely describes its ads. Interestingly, Claria’s omission of the word “pop-up” reflects a change from its prior installation practice. Compare the two screenshots below, showing the prompt I observed in April 2005 (left) versus Claria’s current installation prompt (right). Notice inclusion of the word “pop-up” in the left prompt only.


April 2005		November 2005

Claria’s Compliance with Applicable FTC Rules

In an August 2004 interview, Claria chief privacy officer Reed Freeman set out Claria’s disclosure duties. “Material terms, as defined by the FTC, are those that are likely to affect a consumer’s conduct with respect to a product or service,” Freeman explained, adding that existing law requires that “material terms have to be disclosed prior to a consumer [installing software].” Let’s accept Freeman’s statement of this rule. Surely the presence of extra pop-ups would deter a consumer from accepting Claria’s offer. If so, under Freeman’s own statement of existing law, Claria must disclose that it will show pop-ups.

Claria may try to defend its installations by noting that the word “pop-ups” appears in the “Final Step to download your free screensaver” screen, above. But in the default arrangement of windows, as they appeared on my ordinary SVGA screen, the “p” and “o” of “pop-up” were hidden behind the ActiveX popup, such that only the letters “p-ups” were visible. Hidden text cannot satisfy a FTC disclosure requirement. So this covered disclosure does not provide the kind of information that FTC rules require.

Claria may try to defend its installations by noting that it subsequently shows a “software utility user information” screen. Scrolling through this screen will ultimately lead to information about Claria’s pop-ups. But the document is lengthy, and typical users will not see the section that discusses pop-ups specifically. Furthermore, the document is shown only after users press Yes to install Claria; by the time users see this document, they can’t cancel the Claria installation. So this subsequent text cannot satisfy the requirement that disclosure occur “prior to a consumer installing software” (emphasis added).

Claria may try to defend its installations by noting its plan to move away from popups, in favor of ads embedded within partner web sites. But the Claria software I tested — the result of the installation shown and discussed above — still showed pop-ups, including a popup delivered mere minutes after I finished installation. These pop-ups are a material effect, under Freeman’s own statement of FTC rules. So whatever Claria’s future plans, Claria’s current pop-ups should be disclosed as such.

Some advertisers apparently stand ready to defend their use of advertising systems like Claria’s, and Claria counts as customers some of the country’s largest advertisers. But advertisers should demand better. If advertisers are prepared to show their ads in pop-ups, let them first obtain user consent — not vague consent to “ads,” but specific consent to “pop-ups.” Until Claria improves its installation procedures to provide this information, users who run Claria software can’t reasonably be claimed to know what they were getting into.

June 28, 2005December 2, 2023

What Passes for “Consent” at 180solutions

180solutions today announced its plan to show its users “notification” popups describing some of 180’s practices — thereby, in 180’s view, obtaining users’ “informed consent.” In principle, a re-opt-in might let 180 obtain users’ consent even where initial installations had somehow failed to do so. But 180’s notification message is so flawed and so duplicitous that it can’t offer the legitimacy 180 purportedly seeks. For one, 180’s notification screen makes numerous false statements. Also, 180’s notification is presented in a way that fails to obtain any notion of “consent.” Meanwhile, even 180’s new installs don’t obtain meaningful informed consent.

A Close Look at 180’s “Notifications”

180 Notification Screenshot

A reporter yesterday sent me a screenshot of 180’s planned notification. I see at least seven problems with the screen’s text:

1. 180’s notification screen fails to affirmatively state what 180 does — its popups or its privacy effects. 180’s first two sentences disclose that something called “180search Assistant” is installed, and that it will show “ads.” But nowhere does 180 disclose that the ads appear in popups — an advertising format known to be particularly objectionable, and therefore particularly important to bring to users’ attention if users are to offer genuine consent. In addition, nowhere does 180 disclose the important privacy effects of installing 180 software — that 180 will track what web sites users visit, and send much of this information to its servers. The importance of these omissions can’t be overstated: If 180 fails to disclose what users are purportedly accepting, no valid “consent” can result.

2. 180 claims to “giv[e] you free access to search tools, software and entertainment sites.” This claim is false, in that for many users 180 provides no such thing. Consider a user who receives 180 software without notice or consent. 180 might allow access to special entertainment sites that are otherwise unavailable. But this ability is of no benefit if users don’t know they have 180, didn’t ask for 180, aren’t told what special sites they can access, and in any event don’t want to access such sites.

3. 180 claims to show “approximately 2-3 highly targeted ads per day.” This claim is false, in that many users will receive many more ads per day. Perhaps an average user gets only a few ads per day, when averaging includes all the users who don’t use their PCs on many days, or who don’t use their web browsers. But in even limited web browsing, I consistently receive far more than three 180 ads per day.

4. 180 inexplicably claims that “user consent is required before 180search Assistant can be installed.” This claim is absolutely false. 180 is often installed without any consent at all. See videos on my site (1, 2, 3) (dozens more on file). 180’s own staff have repeatedly admitted that nonconsensual installations occur (1, 2, 3, 4). After these many admissions, I don’t understand how 180 can now argue that users have “consent[ed]” to its installation. Indeed, the entire premise of 180’s re-notification program is to make up for prior nonconsensual installations!

5. 180 claims that “all 180search Assistant ads are labeled…” This is false. As 180 staff have previously admitted, advertisements with redirects erase 180’s ad labeling.

6. 180 claims that “the user must be 18 or over to download.” Again, false. In fact, 180 software is widely offered on kids sites, where users are unlikely to be over 18. (Example.) Some 180’s installations mention a requirement of user age, but this provision is typically exceptionally hard to find. For example, in one screensaver I tested today, the user-age provision was on page 18 of 180’s license, in the next-to-last paragraph, captioned “Miscellaneous.” (Screenshot.)

7. 180 concludes by claiming that “You can easily remove the 180search Assistant … using ‘Add or Remove Programs'” False. The removal isn’t “easy,” for at least two reasons.

i. Finding 180 is surprisingly difficult. 180 often places its entry in tricky locations within the alphabetical Add/Remove listing — like under “U” for “Uninstall 180search Assistant,” rather than a more natural “1” for “180search Assistant.” Users cannot reasonably be expected to look under “U” in search of 180’s entry. On a new PC with a short Add/Remove list, users will still typically find 180’s entry. But on a long and crowded Add/Remove list, on a typical heavily-used PC, it’s anything but “easy” to find 180.

ii. 180 discourages removals using various false and misleading statements. See my prior analysis, finding numerous dubious claims in 180’s uninstall procedure, as well as confusing window design that further discourages removal. For example, 180 falsely claims that removing its software “will disable any Zango-based applications” — even when no such applications have been installed.

Combining these factors, 180’s uninstall procedure is not properly characterized as “easy.” 180 does know how to make “easy” procedures: When 180’s software is installed with one click (or even with zero!), the procedure is remarkably simple. But 180 has taken affirmative steps to make removal harder.

Problems with 180’s Notification Procedure: Failing to Request or Obtain Consent

180’s press release claims that its new notification screens will “ensure each user … has provided informed consent.” I disagree. As I look at 180’s notification text, 180’s notification actually won’t obtain any consent at all.

As a threshold matter, 180’s notifications apparently will be shown in ordinary Internet Explorer popup windows. Seeing these popups, typical users will seek to close them as quickly as possible — finding them irrelevant, unwanted, and annoying. The ordinary IE presentation format is not conducive to obtaining consent. It’s certainly not well-equipped to get the “informed consent” 180 purports to seek.

Most seriously, 180’s notification text does not seek or require any manifestation of user agreement or approval. In fact, 180’s screen doesn’t say anything about consent: It doesn’t require users to click a button to indicate acceptance of 180’s terms; it doesn’t require users to click a button to keep 180 software on their PCs. Rather, 180’s software stays installed unless users figure out how to remove it. Failure to remove 180’s software certainly can’t be claimed to constitute “consent” to keep it installed. So where’s the “consent” in 180’s notifications?

If 180 really wants informed consent, it could do a lot better. Rather than write its notification screens in marketing-speak, full of euphemisms and half-truths, 180 could write its notification in the formal and calm language used in disclosures elsewhere. I’ll even give 180 a few free sentences. First, 180 should accurately describe its software:

“Your computer is running 180solutions advertising software. 180 will track what web sites you visit, and 180 will show you pop-up ads accordingly. On average, users receive several ads per day, but you may receive more or fewer, depending on how often you use your web browser and depending on what web sites you visit.”

180 would accompany this text with an image showing a representative pop-up ad.

Next, 180 would proceed to explain how its software got installed, and what users can do to keep it or to remove it:

“180 software may have been installed on your computer with your consent or with consent of another user of your computer. 180 may have become installed without consent. You may elect to keep 180 software on your PC, or you may choose to remove it without penalty.”

Finally, 180 would include a one-click button to uninstall its software immediately, along with another button that indicates users’ consent to keep 180 installed.

If 180 included notice of this form — unbiased truthful sentences, that fairly and frankly disclose 180’s true effects — users might be able to make an informed decision to keep 180’s software. But where 180’s “disclosure” is loaded with euphemisms and falsehoods, offering only a convoluted uninstall procedure, it’s hard to say 180 has obtained “informed consent.”

180’s New Installation Stubs: Half-Truths and Omissions

180’s press release claims that its new “technology enhancements” will make it “harder” for 180 software to be installed “covert[ly].” Perhaps. But what happened to the standard of “informed consent” (so prominent earlier in 180’s press release)? 180’s change in wording — from “informed consent” to avoiding “covert” installations — may be surprisingly important. I agree that 180’s new installation procedure isn’t covert. But neither does it yield informed consent.

180 Stub Installer – Main Screen

Installer Covers & Obscures License Agreement

Secondary Installer Screen – If User Initially Declines

My understanding is that the “enhancement” at issue is a stub installer like that shown at right. 180’s distribution partners currently distribute a full copy of 180 software. But in the future, apparently they’ll only distribute a stub. Currently, 180’s partners are asked to obtain consumer consent for the installation of 180 software; under the new approach, 180 itself will obtain consent. If properly implemented, this approach might prevent many wrongful installations. Unfortunately, I’ve seen little sign that 180 has designed this system in a way that obtains meaningful consent.

Last week I was testing a security hole exploit which installed more than a dozen programs on my test PC without any notice or consent. Among the unrequested screens appearing on my test PC was the image shown at right (top). This first screen apparently seeks my consent to install 180 — but like the 180 notification described in the preceding sections, nowhere does this screen explain 180’s relevant characteristics and effects. The screen mentions “180search Assistant” and “2-3 advertiser referrals” — but nowhere does it mention that 180’s “referrals” are actually pop-up ads. The screen says that referrals will be “based … on … websites you visit,” but it fails to disclose that website visit data will also be sent to 180’s servers. So the screen fails to mention the relevant facts users need to know in order to grant informed consent.

180’s stub installer does mention an external license, available via a blue link from within the stub. I clicked the link and received the image shown in the second screen at right. Notice the web browser showing 180’s license — in a small window, requiring eight screens to view in full. Worse, although I had clicked the “Terms and Conditions” link to request the license, 180’s large stub installer still largely covered the license. It was extraordinarily hard to read the license, even when I maximized the license to fill the rest of the screen, because roughly half of each line of text was covered by the stub window. (Notice that the license window is “active” (blue title bar highlighting) while the stub “Setup” window is “inactive” (grey).) This is not a one-time fluke; to the contrary, the stub consistently remains on top of the license (and all other windows), contrary to Windows standards. Savvy users may realize they can move the stub out of the way by dragging its title bar. But the ordinary windows Minimize button is missing from the stub’s window, eliminating the easiest way to hide that screen.

On one test PC, I pressed “Finish” in the stub, and 180 installed immediately.

On another test PC, I mimicked the choice of a user who didn’t want 180. I pressed “Cancel” in the stub, and I was then shown the third screen at right. This window claims that “without [180], [a user] may lose access to free games, music, toolbars, and other downloads.” This statement may be accurate as to some installations, but in the security exploit I received last week, I had requested no games, music, toolbars, or other download — so there could be no loss of access in the way the dialog box claimed. This statement was therefore false, as applied to me.

Consider a user who presses “Cancel” in the first screen, but then decides to give 180 a second chance on the strength of the second dialog. When the user presses “Resume” in the second box, the user has not yet accepted 180’s license agreement — probably failing to read it initially (since the user decided to press Cancel, not wanting 180) and certainly failing to accept it. Nonetheless, 180 immediately installs, without offering any further opportunity for a user to access the license or to decline installation. So in 180’s view, the “Resume” button in the second box actually means “I accept the license linked from the prior box but not available on this screen.” That’s a tall order — certainly not what the box plainly says, or what typical users will expect to occur if they press Resume.

Here too, 180 could do much better. 180 could provide a clear description of its effects, using ordinary terms (“pop-up ads”) users can readily understand. 180 could present its installation request with appropriate branding — colors, logo, font, and other characteristics that match 180’s other marketing material. 180 could present its license in a way users can readily read. And 180 could refuse to install when user consent is at best ambiguous (“resume”).

180 is promoting this “stub” installation procedure as a solution to nonconsensual installs. If all 180’s distributors switch to this new installation method, perhaps fewer distributors will be able to infect users in complete silence. But the stub’s tricky text and poor disclosures mean users will still receive 180 software without being fairly told what it is and what it will do to their computers. That’s a far cry from the “informed consent” 180’s press release promises.

June 6, 2005December 2, 2023

More on Google’s Role: Syndicated Ads Shown Through Ill-Gotten Third-Party Toolbars

I’ve previously written about two different ways that Google gets involved in distributing and funding spyware: Allowing Blogspot to be used to foist spyware through tricky ActiveX popups and paying fees to AdSense sites who in turn buy pop-ups through 180solutions (such that revenue ultimately flows from advertiser to Google to AdSense site to 180solutions).

Many of Blogspot’s ActiveX popups have disappeared since my February article, and Google promises to put a check on AdSense popups too. But Google’s role goes much further: Through syndication relationships, Google provides ads to multiple web toolbar operators, including to toolbars installed on users’ PCs without notice or consent. Google pays these toolbar companies for the ads they show — thereby supporting and funding their operations.

Google’s Rules and Policies

Google repeatedly tells its advertisers that their ads will appear only on Google’s “high-quality” partner sites.

What does “high-quality” mean? Google doesn’t say. But last year Google published a set of “Software Principles” for advertising programs — calling for improved notice and consent before advertising software becomes installed. A basic notion of “high-quality” sites is that they don’t solicit traffic through software violating Google’s Software Principles, and that they also don’t make or distribute such software. My sense is that an advertising channel cannot be considered “high-quality” if it is predicated on installing software onto users’ PCs without their consent or without their informed consent.

Ask Jeeves and Its Ill-Gotten Toolbars

I’ve previously shown that Ask Jeeves’ toolbars sometimes install without asking for permission (additional videos on file). Other Jeeves toolbars install in effective stealth or otherwise without informed consent. Some examples:

The AJ toolbar bundled with the iMesh P2P program is disclosed only at page 27 of iMesh’s 56 page license. Users who manage to locate this paragraph are likely to face some difficulty in understanding it; the text largely uses euphemisms in place of the word “toolbar” to describe AJ’s software. (Until recently, the license didn’t use the word “toolbar” at all.) See also analysis by SearchEngineWatch.
Kazaa has long bundled AJ’s MySearch toolbar (though a recent revision to Kazaa seems to have replaced it with a competing toolbar). Historically, AJ’s inclusion has been prominently disclosed in the Kazaa installer. But users wanting to learn more about AJ have had no reasonable way to find details or even to read AJ’s license: Kazaa oddly placed the AJ license agreement at page 32 of a document puzzlingly labeled “Altnet License Agreement” (without mention of AJ).
When Ask Jeeves promotes its toolbars in banner advertising, it again fails to obtain the kind of consent that Google seeks. AJ advertises on kids sites, using euphemisms in place of plain language, and showing pictures of smiley faces rather than pictures of its advertising toolbar. AJ’s installation does not affirmatively show a license agreement providing more detailed terms. On 800×600 screens (such as many older PCs), AJ even fails to show a properly-labeled link to a license or to mention the word “toolbar” in on-screen text prior to installation..

So even if a user has an AJ toolbar, the user may not want it, may not know how it arrived, and may not have granted meaningful consent (if any consent at all). These various behaviors seem to constitute multiple violations of Google’s Software Principles — among others, installation without any consent at all, as well as failure to provide appropriate “upfront disclosure.”

PPC advertisers
money

viewers
Google AdWords
money

viewers
Ask Jeeves

How Funds flow from advertisers to Ask Jeeves

Notwithstanding the tricky installation methods used by these Ask Jeeves toolbars, AJ’s revenues ultimately largely come from Google: Enter a search term into an AJ toolbar, and most of the resulting ads are Google AdWords ads. AJ’s recent 10-Q says AJ gets 74% of its total revenues from Google. With AJ’s 2005 Q1 revenue at $94.9 million, Google apparently pays AJ approximately $278 million per year. Fees flow from advertiser to Google to AJ, as shown at right.

Google’s relationship with Ask Jeeves is widely publicized: Google issued a press release announcing its relationship with AJ, and Google’s main AdWords page even shows AJ’s logo. But Google’s statements to advertisers fail to mention the possibility that AJ will send advertisers traffic that was obtained from toolbars installed without proper notice and consent or, in some instances, any notice or consent at all.

Of course, Google’s relationships with toolbar makers doesn’t stop with Ask Jeeves. Google ads end up shown through other distribution channels with even worse installation practices.

How Google Supports IBIS WebSearch

IBIS WebSearch results showing Google PPC ads

I’ve long watched the IBIS WebSearch toolbar and its troubled installation practices. I’ve often seen IBIS installed through security holes with no notice or consent. (Multiple additional videos on file.) I’ve also posted documentation of IBIS installed in tricky bundles with minimal notice. I’ve even seen IBIS offered in repeated ActiveX popups that tell users “you must click yes to continue” if users initially refuse installation. Other IBIS ActiveX popups offer a defective license link; clicking the license yields no license. (Video proof on file.)

These practices seem to violate almost every one of Google’s Software Principles. Google says to let users decline an unwanted installation, to give users upfront disclosure of major program functions, to clearly disclose changes to browser configuration, and only to come bundled with other programs meeting these rules. But my records show IBIS failing to meet each of these requirements.

PPC advertisers
money

viewers
Google AdWords
money

viewers
Go2Net
money

viewers
IBIS WebSearch

How Funds flow from advertisers to IBIS WebSearch

Notwithstanding these apparent violations of Google’s Software Principles, IBIS shows many Google ads, seemingly receiving payment for such displays. Run a search in IBIS, and the ads often match Google ads. See screenshot at left. See also a video showing a search conducted through the IBIS WebSearch toolbar, a click on an ad, and the immediate creation of Go2Net and Google cookies. (Note that Google ads typically fill the entire screen of an 800×600 web browser.)

Click on a WebSearch ad, and traffic flows from WebSearch to Go2Net to Google to advertiser. Payment flows in the opposite direction. See diagram at right.

Using a network monitor (“packet sniffer”), I recorded the raw traffic that occurred when I clicked on the Orbitz ad shown above. In particular, my browser retrieved the URLs listed below. See also the full packet log of the associated transmissions, showing the full parameters of all redirects.

http://www.websearch.com/xfb_redir.aspx?CP=…
http://clickit.go2net.com/search?pos=1&ppos=1&plnks=5…&query=car+rental…
http://clickit.go2net.com/search/id?pos=1&ppos=1&plnks=5…&query=car+rental
http://www.google.com/url?sa=l&q=http://www.orbitz.com/App/DisplayCarSearch…&ai=…
http://www.google.com/url?q=http://www.orbitz.com/…&ai=…
http://www.orbitz.com/App/DisplayCarSearch?semsource=goog&semkeyword=car+rental

Google’s listing of ad partners confirms that Google ads can be shown by InfoSpace, owner of Go2Net. Note that InfoSpace is a publicly-traded company (NASDAQ: INSP).

The example above shows an Orbitz ad being shown by IBIS WebSearch. In my testing, Orbitz often advertises through programs often called spyware. (Examples: Orbitz ads shown by Claria/Gator, eXact Advertising and Hotbar.) But because IBIS WebSearch syndicates and shows many Google ads for many keywords, IBIS shows ads even for advertisers who otherwise refuse to do business with spyware firms. Indeed, thanks to syndication from Google, IBIS even shows (and receives payment for showing) ads from firms that have filed suit against makers of such software. For example, I have captured proof of IBIS showing Google AdWords ads from the Hertz, LL Bean, and the New York Times, each of which has taken a stand against unwanted advertising software by suing Claria.

Enforcement Challenges

Google’s Software Principles document concludes by noting that “Responsible … advertisers can work to prevent [undesirable software] by avoiding these types of business relationships [those violating the principles set out above], even if … through intermediaries.” This is surely good advice. But Google’s far-reaching relationships with Ask Jeeves, IBIS, and others indicate that Google’s actions fall short of Google’s own recommendations to others.

Most of Google’s AdWords partners are probably highly trustworthy — unlikely to show ads except in the ways that Google intends and permits. But where Google’s partners have partners of their own (as InfoSpace/Go2Net does in WebSearch), enforcement is likely to be more difficult and accountability lacking. Google could eliminate this problem by prohibiting its partners from syndicating Google ads on to further partners of their own — though such a rule would narrow the network showing Google sites and thereby reduce Google’s revenues. Google’s existing partners may also have contractual rights to distribute Google ads to partners; AJ’s 10-Q comments that AJ “display[s] paid listings from Google on … many of the third-party sites in our network” (page 18).

My testing of Go2Net/WebSearch was made particularly difficult by the fact that the Google ads at issue apparently occur only on nights and weekends. During the business day, I have observed that WebSearch generally shows ads from other sources, not from Google. This type of change tends to undermine and confuse casual efforts at testing and enforcement.

Tough enforcement is particularly difficult due to the large amount of money at issue. Ask Jeeves’ relationship with Google has grown to hundreds of millions of dollars per year. Yet my documentation of AJ’s installation practices demonstrates that some AJ traffic to Google comes from AJ toolbars installed without consent or installed without consent that meets Google’s standards. With huge money on the line, will Google terminate its relationship with AJ, as its Principles seem to require (“avoid… these types of business relationships”)? The wrongful installations cannot immediately be undone — it’s hard (though probably not impossible) to determine exactly which AJ toolbar installations lacked consent or lacked the kind of consent Google calls for. But it seems clear that AJ’s practices don’t live up to Google’s standards. What will Google do now?

May 16, 2005December 2, 2023

What’s So Hot About Hotbar? updated May 19, 2005

Last week Sunbelt announced that Hotbar sent Sunbelt a Cease and Desist letter, apparently demanding that Sunbelt stop detecting Hotbar software and offering users an option to remove it. I immediately updated my Threats page. But then I started wondering: How does Hotbar get onto users’ PCs? And what does Hotbar do once installed?

My new Hotbar Installs via Banner Ads at Kids Sites shows a variety of unsavory Hotbar practices: Promoting Hotbar advertising software at sites targeting kids, using banners with smiley faces but without mention of ads. Failing to affirmatively show a license agreement, and burying advertising terms so many screens into the license and below such counterintuitively-labeled section headings that users cannot reasonably find the key provisions. First affirmatively mentioning advertising on a screen that offers no Cancel button for users to decline the installation. And ultimately bombarding users with ads in pop-ups, web browser toolbars, Windows Explorer toolbars, auto-opening sidebars, and even desktop icons.

Meanwhile, Hotbar’s C&D indicates that their software is no longer detected by Microsoft Anti-Spyware, Lavasoft Ad-Aware, or McAfee. Why not? Consider Microsoft’s policy statement: “Windows AntiSpyware (Beta) alerts the user to the presence of any automatic pop-up advertising appearing outside the context of the program they are currently using.” This certainly describes Hotbar’s pop-up ads. Yet somehow Hotbar has caused — convinced? persuaded? threatened? — Microsoft not to detect their program.

Of course Hotbar is not the only party to blame. Hotbar’s ads arrive at kids sites through ads syndicated by Fastclick (NASDAQ: FSTC). As a publicly-traded company, surely Fastclick could find a better business than foisting advertising software onto unsuspecting kids.

I’ve recently received a copy of the Cease and Desist letter (PDF) Hotbar sent to Sunbelt. Sunbelt says they’ll be responding shortly, and I’m looking forward to reading their response. Meanwhile, some inaccuracies in the letter are so egregious that I feel obliged to note them immediately.

Hotbar claims to provide its users with “explicit explanations” of its services, and Hotbar therefore claims that users “provide … full conscious consent to each and every aspect of Hotbar software.” That’s not what I’ve seen when I’ve tested Hotbar. Rather, I have observed Hotbar install without even mentioning the word “ads” until a screen at which users aren’t given a “cancel” button. And nowhere does Hotbar affirmatively show users any mention of its numerous forms of ads (pop-ups, pop-unders, toolbar ads, auto-opening sidebars, and even desktop icons). To say Hotbar users “consent to each and every aspect” is truly a puzzling misstatement of the facts — that’s not what I’ve observed, nor is it what I’ve chronicled in screenshots and videos.

Hotbar then claims that Sunbelt “misrepresent[s]” Hotbar when it calls “Hotbar” adware. I don’t get it. How else is Sunbelt supposed to describe a program that tracks users’ online activities and shows ads, including pop-up ads? If Claria is adware — and even Claria says it is! — then surely Hotbar is properly called adware too. Perhaps reasonable people could disagree about the propriety of calling Hotbar spyware. But “adware”? No.

May 9, 2005December 2, 2023

Telling the Truth about Installation Tactics

Installation practices occupied center stage at last week’s CNET Download.com‘s anti-spyware conference. Many of the companies whose installation practices I’ve criticized attempted to defend those practices or deflect attention from them. But their explanations and excuses don’t stand up to critical examination.

Does Claria Target Kids? Take Two…

At the CNET conference, I showed my slides of Claria’s misleading ads on kids sites. The audience seemed to think the slides are pretty damning: Claria shows an ad that looks like a Windows dialog box, though it’s not; Claria offers a clock-synchronizing program (which Windows XP users don’t need); Claria installs software with just two clicks; and Claria doesn’t show a license until after the user accepts the installation. All this, on sites targeted at kids — sites with privacy policies that say so, in case the cartoon graphics, simple language, and underlying content (often cartoon video games) weren’t clear enough.

Claria’s CEO, Jeff McFadden, responded in part by claiming that the Ezone site (the example I focused on) isn’t really targeted at kids:

“… There’s a second thing that was mentioned, that this is a kids site. I’m not sure what homework was done on this, because there’s an IDC report that says that online gaming sites, the average age of people who visit those sites is 29. I don’t know if anyone has done a demographic study of this particular site. I was shocked to find that even the Neopets web site that my daughters at home use quite frequently has a very large constituency of housewives that use the site. So we do not ‘target’ kids sites. … ”

–conference archive, session 2 recording (MP3), from 1:05:00 to 1:12:38 (excerpt – WindowsMedia), in response to my question at 55:50 to 57:50 (excerpt). See also panelists’ responses at 57:50 to 1:05:00 (excerpt).

IDC may be right that the average age of gaming site visitors is 29. But I doubt demographics are similar at cartoon video game sites like Ezone. With titles like “Beetle Junior” and “Turtle Bay,” it’s hard to think the sites could retain a major adult audience.

What would it take to convince Jeff that the Ezone site really does cater to kids, and that it isn’t an appropriate place to solicit new installations of Claria’s advertising software? Last month I posted several other examples of Claria ads on (what I claim to be) kids sites — not just Ezone, but also a site called Fingertime Games (“lunar mouse house,” “junk food jack” and other games). Today I’m adding one more, which I think is even more clearly targeted at kids. For starters, the site is called Kidzpage — its very name a play on “kids.” Its title bar and “welcome” text both say it’s “for children.” Its advertisement pitch specifically says it’s “for kids and adults … family and students … school-aged children along with the ‘grown-ups’ who supervise them.” It’s linked from Yahooligans (Yahoo for kids). Can anyone seriously dispute that users obtained at such a site will include kids who didn’t know what they were getting, and who couldn’t reasonably consent?

Beyond targeting kids, there’s plenty more wrong with this Claria installation method. See my earlier write-up for discussion of fake-user-interface, unneeded programs, and failure to show a license until after installation occurs. See also Eric Howes‘s Adware Installations of 2005, showing other Claria installations with similar shortcomings.

Ask Jeeves’ Problems: Non-consensual Installations, Semi-consensual Installations

Installation practices seem to be a question that IAC CEO Barry Diller doesn’t fully understand, or at least doesn’t care to talk about. In an earnings call last week, he said AJ “doesn’t have an issue with either spyware or adware.” But more than denying that AJ faces exposure here, Diller didn’t even want to discuss the matter. He continued: “It is an issue, obviously, but it is not our issue. And that’s that. Next question, please?”

Diller is right that the AJ toolbars aren’t either spyware or adware (as I use the terms). After all, the AJ toolbar doesn’t obviously collect much information about what users do (though I don’t fully understand all of AJ’s transmissions). And the AJ toolbar doesn’t show the annoying pop-ups common to most “adware.” (That said, AJ’s toolbar leads users to web pages with lots of PPC ads syndicated from Google. So if some AJ installations are wrongful, remember that Google revenues are ultimately funding AJ’s activities. Google staff tell me they’re “looking into it.”)

But Diller is wrong to so quickly conclude AJ has no problem here, merely because AJ doesn’t make spyware or adware. If AJ software is becoming installed through security holes w/ no notice or consent (it is), and if AJ is offering payments to those who perform these wrongful installations, AJ has a problem no matter how praiseworthy AJ’s software may be. Similarly, if AJ is installing without showing or even referencing a license, while using euphemisms that fail to properly disclose even the most general effects of the programs to be installed (again all true), AJ has a lot to improve. Same if the AJ license agreement is buried at page 48 of a license agreement users aren’t even shown unless they specifically request it (see Kazaa installer).

The basic legal theory — clearly articulated in the NYAG’s complaint against Intermix — is that users ought to control what software runs on their computers. So installations are only proper when they occur with user consent, after clear and straightforward disclosures. Omit the disclosures, or phrase them so euphemistically that users can’t reasonably understand, then the software installation becomes a trespass.

I don’t always agree with Marquette professor Eric Goldman. (In particular, I can’t agree with his calls for narrow liability for actions of distributors and advertisers. This seems like a recipe for unaccountability and for rewarding bad actors. Eric’s approach would encourage “adware” vendors to look the other way when their software is installed wrongfully, and would give a free pass to those who advertise through software installed improperly.) But interestingly Eric and I seem to see AJ the same way — the key question being whether AJ’s installation disclosure and consent is up to par.

180solutions Continues to Become Installed Without Any Consent At All

Representatives from 180solutions made the sensible decision not to claim, within the official CNET conference sessions, that their programs install only with consent. After all, I had screenshots and videos providing the contrary.

But in a video interview made mere minutes before, 180solutions COO Daniel Todd told Dow Jones Marketwatch that “180solutions does not install software on people’s computers without consent.” Only upon further pressing by the interviewer does Todd back-peddle, admitting that some 180 distributors install 180 software with “no consent” or without (what Todd considers) adequate consent.

So Todd admits that some 180 installs are nonconsensual. Yet 180’s web site continues to claim that its software is “permission based” and “only downloaded with user consent.”

Which one is right? My November and March videos show nonconsensual 180 installations in great detail. (I’ll post still more videos in the coming weeks, as to 180 as well as Direct Revenue, eXact Advertising, and many others.) So Todd’s ultimate admission is accurate. Not so for the “only … with … consent” promises on 180’s web site.

Todd later stated that 180 has 7,000 to 10,000 distributors. That’s a huge number — it underscores the practical difficulty of 180 performing meaningful oversight of what its distributors are doing. With so many installation “partners” and so little enforcement or quality control, 180 has created a monster. Who’s going to fix it, and when?

Direct Revenue Commission Skimming

In my final visit to the CNET Q&A microphone, I mentioned Direct Revenue “skimming off the top” — invoking affiliate commission links to claim commissions on purchases users were already making. I previously documented this same behavior by 180solutions — finding it surprisingly widespread, yet reportedly an easy way to make money. (Last year 180 told MSNBC that it made more than $100,000 from Dell in just one month in late 2003.)

Direct Revenue’s commission-skimming was relatively easy to spot — with telltale signs in users’ cookies folders, not to mention noticeable popunders and, as usual, clear records in packet sniffers. So I was pleased to learn that affiliate network Commission Junction has already noticed this scam and, reportedly, taken action. So perhaps there’s less need for me to post the various videos, screenshots, packet logs, and other proof I’ve been accumulating. Instead, I’ll soon be focusing on reporting DR advertisers — some shocking examples, like American Express ads continuing to target kids sites.

May 2, 2005December 2, 2023

Does Jeeves Ask for Permission?

I continue my misleading installation series with a look at installation practices of Ask Jeeves. My new Ask Jeeves Toolbar Installs via Banner Ads at Kids Sites shows a misleading banner ad particularly likely to target kids. When users click on this banner, AJ neither shows nor references any license agreement. And AJ uses euphemisms like “accessible directly from your browser” rather than explicitly admitting that it will install a web browser toolbar.

But that’s not the worst of AJ’s practices. Over the past six months, I’ve captured a series of videos showing Ask Jeeves’ MyWay and MySearch software installed through security holes — without notice, disclosure, or consent. For example, in a video I made on March 12, I received more than a dozen different programs including the Ask Jeeves MySearch toolbar — without me ever requesting anything, and without me ever clicking “Yes” or “Accept” in any dialog box. Watch the video and see for yourself. Warning: The video is 16+ minutes long. Security exploit occurs at 6:00, and Ask Jeeves MySearch software is first seen at 15:50. In this same testing, I also received installation of 180solutions, multiple programs from eXact Advertising, the IBIS WebSearch toolbar, PeopleOnPage, ShopAtHomeSelect, SurfSideKick, WindUpdates, and many more. The underlying network transmissions show that the security exploit at issue was syndicated through the targetnet.com ad network — Mamma Media, publicly-traded on Nasdaq Small Cap.

I have other videos available upon request, including nonconsensual AJ installations dating back to November 2004. See also my November 2004 exploit video.

I’m surprised that Ask Jeeves allows these nonconsensual installations. Ask Jeeves is a publicly-traded company with a 10-digit valuation (slated to be acquired by InterActiveCorp for $1.85 billion). If Ask Jeeves staff made a serious effort to screen and supervise their distribution partners, they could prevent this kind of mess.

The biggest news last week was a lawsuit filed by the New York Attorney General’s office against Intermix Media, whose KeenValue, IncrediFind, and other programs show popup ads, add extra browser toolbars, and intercept error messages. These practices are objectionable in and of themselves, but the complaint focuses on the programs’ misleading installations. Sometimes the programs install with no notice at all, the complaint says, and sometimes only with hidden or misleading disclosures users are unlikely to notice or understand.

I have the sense that this suit is the first of many. There are certainly plenty of similar offenders, even big companies with major venture capital funding. I have often written about software from 180solutions, Direct Revenue, and eXact Advertising installing through security holes, practices I’ve continued to observe (including in the video linked above). And Claria’s tricky installations share many of the deceptive characteristics the AG attributes to Intermix, like hiding key terms in “lengthy, legalistic license agreements” and using “vague, incomplete” disclosure text. (See NYAG complaint (PDF), paragraph 9.) So I doubt the NY AG’s office would approve of the Ask Jeeves practices I’m documenting today, nor the other misleading tactics on my spyware installation methods index.

April 25, 2005December 2, 2023

Misleading Installations of the Week: PacerD, and Claria’s Dope Wars

It’s Monday morning, so time for more misleading installations. Just like last week, I couldn’t stop at only a single example; again I’m providing two.

PacerD’s misleading pop-ups ask users to “please click yes” to accept “free browser enhancements.” In fact what PacerD offers is an unusually large bundle of a dozen different programs, only some of them disclosed in fine print in PacerD’s mislabeled (apparent, purported) license agreement, which in turn is only shown at a user’s specific request. But click “Yes” once, and your computer will take a turn for the worse, with no subsequent opportunity to cancel.

The PacerD Installation Bundle

As usual, Claria’s approach is somewhat more subtle. When Claria bundles its advertising software with the “Dope Wars” video game, Claria prominently tells users that it will deliver advertising. But Claria mentions effects on privacy only midway through a 43-page license agreement, that begins with three tedious pages of all-caps text. My sense is that few “Dope Wars” players are likely to wade through this lengthy license. So if Dope Wars users install Claria, they’ll do so without first understanding what Claria will do to their PCs.

Claria’s Misleading Installation Methods – Dope Wars

On some level, these two installations could hardly be more different. PacerD installs a dozen programs from numerous different companies; Claria installs just one. PacerD shows a popup while users are just trying to surf the web; Claria’s interruption comes as users are trying to install software they actually want. But in relevant respects, I think these installations are surprisingly similar. For one, both seek to convert users’ computers into advertising channels — tracking what users do, and showing extra advertising. Also, both installations tell users something about the programs they are asked to accept, and both give savvy users an opportunity to learn more, but in each case the prominent on-screen text omits important facts users need to know in order to make sensible choices.

April 18, 2005December 2, 2023

Misleading Installations of the Week: Claria and 180 at Kids Sites

“Adware” companies say their businesses are predicated on user consent. (Claria: “… consumers who agree … “; 180: “permission-based … opt-in”). Notwithstanding, companies’ claims, there’s no doubt that this kind of advertising software is sometimes installed without consent. See the video I posted last year.

But what about those users who supposedly do consent to receive extra pop-ups? Why did they agree to receive extra advertising that so many other users seem to despise? My sense is that users often don’t understand what they’re getting — due to serious deficiencies in installation disclosures. In two new articles, I examine and analyze the installation procedures of Claria and 180, raising doubts as to whether users reasonably knew what would happen when they “accepted” these programs.

Can we say that a user “consents” to an installation if the installation occurred after a user was presented with a misleading advertisement that looked like a Windows dialog box? If that advertisement was embedded within a site substantially catering to children? If that advertisement offered a feature known to be duplicative with software the user already has? If “authorizing” the installation required only that the user click on an ad, then click “Yes” once? If the program’s license agreement was shown to the user only after the user pressed “Yes”? These are the facts of recent installations of Claria software from ads at games site Ezone.com.

Details: Claria’s Misleading Installation Methods – Ezone.com

Turning to 180: Can we say that a user consents to an installation of advertising-display software where that installation is prominently described as removing advertisements? Where the installation description uses euphemisms like “show … sponsor websites” but never explicitly states that the program will show advertisements or pop-ups? Where the installation procedure never shows or even references a license agreement? And where all this occurs at sites catering to children?

Details: 180solutions’s Misleading Installation Methods – Ezone.com

Lots of companies want to take advantage of users who may be a bit confused, a bit naive, or a bit too quick to click yes. But where users are recruited at sites catering to children, where ads look like Windows messages, or where installation requests resort to misleading euphemisms, I’m not inclined to say that consumers “consent” to the resulting ads and to the resulting transmission of personal information.