FALSE AUTHORITY SYNDROME
Rob Rosenberger

TRUE STORY.

A couple of years ago I dropped by the Software Etc. store in Fairview Heights, Illinois just to browse. Another customer had come in before me and told an employee he had a problem with his video monitor. The employee warned the customer he had contracted a newly discovered computer virus, which he proceeded to describe in great detail. I interrupted the employee. "Sir, you have it completely wrong. That virus doesn't exist. It's the latest hoax."
"Oh, no," the employee replied. "We've got e-mail reports from our sales headquarters telling us to keep our eyes open for it." To which I countered, "Some uppertier sales manager has been duped and is telling you BS. McAfee Associates and others have issued public statements dismissing that virus as a hoax. What you've described simply cannot be done by any virus. Period." I then turned my attention to the customer. "Stop listening to this guy. You don't have this magical virus he's describing because it simply doesn't exist. You have some other problem with your video monitor."
What credentials does this salesman have in the field of computer viruses? He may have flipped burgers at a McDonald's restaurant two weeks ago for all we know. What credentials did this salesman have in the field of computer viruses? He may have flipped hamburgers at a McDonald's restaurant two weeks earlier for all we know. Right now he sells merchandise at a computer store does this qualify him to give advice about computer viruses?

Most people who claim to speak with authority about computer viruses have little or no genuine expertise. Some virus experts describe it as "False Authority Syndrome" the person feels competent to discuss viruses because of his job title, or because of his expertise in another computer field, or simply because he knows how to use a computer. I want you to question the credentials of anybody who talks about computer viruses. Indeed, I want you to question my credentials in this field!
The U.S. Air Force highlights the concept of False Authority Syndrome in Tongue & Quill, their official publication on effective writing:

Nonexpert opinion or assumed authority - Don't be swayed (or try to sway someone else) based on the opinion of an unqualified authority. The Air Force is chockfull of people who, because of their position or authority in one field, are quoted on subjects in other fields for which they have limited or no experience.

(As this Air Force publication notes, False Authority Syndrome can attack people in all fields of expertise.) Computer salesmen, consultants, repairmen, and college computer teachers often succumb to False Authority Syndrome. In many cases a person's job title sounds impressive, but his or her job description at most may only include references to vague "computer security" duties.
Network administrators typically fall into this category. Most hold the title of "company virus expert" simply because their job description includes network security. They may have no real education in computer security, but their experience in the field of computer networking gives them confidence when talking about the unrelated field of computer viruses.
People who suffer from False Authority Syndrome too often assert conclusions from insufficient data and they habitually label their assumptions as fact. Quoting again from Tongue & Quill:

We jump to conclusions from too little evidence; we rely too much on "samples of one" (our own experience); something happens twice the same way and we assume the ability to forecast... Unfortunately, our natural desire is to make positive, solid statements, and this desire encourages the asserted conclusion.

Consider the case of Gary L. Allen. Writing in a letter to Computerworld, he offered his analysis of 1992's worldwide Michelangelo virus scare. Allen listed his virusfighting credentials: "I am an MIS manager, and we found Michelangelo on disks distributed by one of our software vendors, and it never made it into our local area network." Allen went on to say: "If we had not been prompted [by the media] to scan [for the Michelangelo virus]... it surely would have made it onto the network hard drives and from there who knows where."
This network administrator checked for a virus because the press told him to do so! Allen made "positive, solid statements" as Tongue & Quill notes. Amazingly, this network administrator claims he checked for a virus because the press told him to do so! Allen also assumes the Michelangelo virus would have "surely" infected his network drives. Virus experts could easily debate this, but why should they have to debate him in the first place? Allen's words expose him as a "virus pseudo expert."

VIRUS PSEUDO EXPERTS:

I once lectured about viruses to a small group of businessmen in 1991. A network administrator stood up at one point and proclaimed his company (a law firm) would literally close its doors for good "if a destructive virus of any type gets on our system." They would sell the office equipment; the secretaries would find new jobs; the lawyers would take their filing cabinets to other law firms. The company would fold if even one destructive virus infiltrated their network.
Shocked by his statement (and trying to regain control of the lecture), I asked what would happen if fire swept through the firm's building. No sweat: they kept backups off-site and had contingency contracts for just such emergencies. I responded, "Well, there you go. If a virus ever gets on your computers, burn your building to the ground and your problem is solved!" The audience laughed but I fumed. I would have fired this man on the spot if he worked for my company! I don't want anyone on my payroll who would instantly put everyone out of work due to his own pompous ignorance.
Sadly, ignorant network administrators all too often perpetuate myths about the dangers posed by computer viruses. Ken Hall, a manager at Georgia Tech's Financial Data Technology Office, wrote a typical story for Atlanta Computer Currents magazine in response to the Michelangelo scare of 1992. Hall's seventh paragraph touts a common myth:
"Traditionally, viruses have infected computers that have downloaded programs form [sic] dial-up bulletin boards." Experts have tried for years to squelch this myth and others, but pseudo experts like Hall greatly outnumber them.

COMPUTER SECURITY EXPERTS:

Some people hold a rare position in large companies where their entire job title is "computer security." It's not just an additional duty. Their job covers the whole range of security issues, from teenage hacking to espionage, from fires to natural disasters and of course computer viruses. You'll find False Authority Syndrome here as well.

COMMON MYTHS:

THE "BBSS SPREAD MOST VIRUSES" CLAIM. Virus pseudo experts tell you to avoid computer bulletin boards, claiming they account for the spread of most virus infections. And yet genuine virus experts believe just the opposite: they view BBSs as an extremely safe way to obtain software. Pseudo experts blame BBSs for spreading most viruses because it seems so plausible to blame them. You can get a virus if you share software, and bulletin boards share a lot of software. Pseudo experts therefore assume BBSs account for most reported cases of infection and they wrongly label their assumptions as fact.
Computer security personnel at Scott Air Force Base, Illinois attended a job related course in early 1995. The course included a special handout: Russell & Gangemi's "Computer Security Basics," a book last updated in 1992. Computer books typically have short lifespans: many will disappear from store shelves within a year. But "Computer Security Basics" serves as an industry reference and you could still find it at Waldenbooks stores in late 1995.
Russell & Gangemi mention the shareware program "Flu_Shot" by name on page 88 and tell readers they can obtain it "from both commercial and public domain sources," i.e. from BBSs. Yet on page 87 the book warns readers to "be wary about new public domain or shareware programs... Don't allow users to install software obtained from [BBSs]."
This contradiction sounds minor on the surface; in reality it perpetuates a common virus myth. Specifically, it helps fuel a myth among computer security personnel. Russell & Gangemi also recommend readers to the "Computer Virus Industry Association," an organization widely dismissed before the book's first publication as a publicity front for antivirus mogul John McAfee. Computer security personnel don't just read books they watch training videos, too. ViaGrafix, a company specializing in computer training videos, markets a video about computer viruses. Produced in 1992 and still sold in 1995, the ViaGrafix video touts the mythical story of the "Gulf War virus." Again, this only helps fuel myths among computer security personnel.
Wolfgang Stiller, an internationally recognized virus expert and author of the "Integrity Master" antivirus program, says "computer security experts today people who deserve that title tend to have a good background on how viruses operate. They can dispense some good advice." But he chooses his words carefully when asked to comment on virus expertise among computer security personnel.
"They're a little more likely than the average person to understand viruses," Stiller notes. "Some would say they're a lot more likely to understand them, but I've met a fair number who don't know a thing about viruses, or, even worse, they've got misconceptions. In light of the fact they are computer security experts, their misconceptions carry a lot more weight than the average person. Errors are much more damaging when they come out of the mouths of these people."

IN A WORD... ultracrepidarian: (n., adj.) a person who gives opinions beyond his scope of knowledge. Stiller sums up False Authority Syndrome among computer security experts: "Put me on a panel with a computer security person, and I won't claim to have his level of security expertise. But the computer security guy will invariably claim to have my level of virus expertise. How can you convince the audience in a diplomatic way that he doesn't?" (Stiller offers an interesting analogy: he wonders about the policemen who vouch on TV for The Club). Do the officers specialize in car theft investigations or do they write traffic tickets?)

COMPUTER REPAIRMEN:

Network administrators and computer security personnel may have some of the best job titles, but they don't have a lock on the market when it comes to virus pseudo experts. The list also includes computer consultants & repairmen. In one example, CompuServe user Rob Parker posted a message in early 1995 lamenting his laptop's dead hard disk:

Thinking the problem was a virus, the tech[nician] tried a number of virus scanners, all negative. He then tried to reformat the hard disk... He claimed that the [hard disk] was ruined, and that a virus had done it.

Ask yourself this: Suppose your computer started acting weird all of a sudden. How would you react? Would you instinctively reach for antivirus software as your first course of action?
Computers are extremely complex. All sorts of things can go wrong software glitches, hardware failures, user error, you name it. The next time your computer does something weird, ask yourself: "How would I react if I'd never heard about computer viruses?"
In a nutshell, the repairman used two or more programs to detect viruses on the laptop. None of these programs found a virus. The repairman then tried to reformat the laptop hard disk but the attempt failed. So he claimed a virus had physically destroyed the hard disk.
Genuine experts on CompuServe dismissed the repairman's conclusion. Parker now wonders if the repairman made up the story. Did he feel compelled to give his customer an important sounding excuse for why the drive failed? Parker got off easy: his hard disk failed during the laptop's warranty period. But his experience raises important questions. How many repairmen have incorrectly told customers to fork over money because they claimed "a virus physically destroyed the computer"? How many computer users believed it?

MAGAZINES, NEWSPAPERS, TV:

Paul Mayer, an expert on marketing for small software companies, wrote a regular column for a computer magazine. His editors once paid him to write an article on viruses. Mayer's virus credentials appeared in the fourth paragraph:

I have personally had two contacts with viruses in 15 years of working with computers. The first encounter caught me completely off guard. I was prepared for the second.

Mayer wrote the story from the perspective of a regular user. He believes the magazine picked him to write it because he had first hand user experience with viruses. And to his credit, Mayer consulted with a genuine virus expert while writing the article. Unfortunately, reporters in the mainstream media will quote almost anyone when it comes to viruses and they habitually quote local people. A typical story illustrates this point. Published in the St. Louis Post Dispatch during 1992's worldwide Michelangelo virus scare, it quoted various local businessmen, among them:

- Craig Johnson, manager of a local Software Plus store;
- Ernest White, manager of a local Babbage's store;
- Todd Jones, salesman at a local Software Centre store.

COMMON MYTHS: The "Gulf War" virus.

U.S. News & World Report ran a story in 1992 claiming the National Security Agency had intercepted printers bound for Iraq just before the Gulf War. The magazine claimed NSA secretly planted a computer virus in those printers. Ted Koppel, host of ABC's Nightline, opened one of his broadcasts with this story. At least one training video about viruses touts it as fact.
Why do genuine experts dismiss the story as a myth? It seems InfoWorld magazine published an April Fool's story in 1991 almost identical to what USN&WR reported in 1992.
This problem afflicts TV reporters as well. An NBC Nightly News story, broadcast during 1992's Michelangelo scare, included an interview with a computer salesman. He mentioned his customers' panic and the reporter asked if "the panic is justified." The salesman responded: "yes."
And there you have it: panic is justified if you think your computer might have a virus. So says a nationally recognized computer salesman. Even "computer literate" mainstream reporters commit serious blunders when they write stories about viruses. Numerous reporters logged onto CompuServe, GEnie, Prodigy, and America Online during the Michelangelo scare and posted messages to "all." Each message asked the same question: "Want to be interviewed for a story on the Michelangelo virus?"
These reporters didn't search for experts they went on a "cattle call" for frightened computer users. One USA Today reporter, expecting an avalanche of calls, asked people not to tie up his phone unless he or she actually got hurt by the Michelangelo virus on its upcoming March 6 trigger date.
Consider the tragic accident where actor Christopher Reeve broke his neck. The mainstream media quickly turned to spinal injury specialists for comment. Why didn't they ask a podiatrist if Reeve will ever walk again?

COMMON MYTHS: The "Dying Boy" Story.

A little boy (his name varies), dying of an incurable disease (the disease varies), wants to make it in the Guinness Book of Records for "the most get well cards." Wellmeaning computer users ask you to send a card so the little boy gets his dying wish.
Podiatrists can diagnose walking disorders and they easily outnumber spinal injury specialists. But a podiatrist has the wrong expertise in Christopher Reeve's case. The press recognizes this difference. Change the topic to computer viruses now they'll quote almost anybody with a job in the computer industry.
Never underestimate the mainstream media's role in the spread of False Authority Syndrome. Empirical Research Systems (a computer industry polling firm) conducted a survey in 1991 of corporate employees tasked in some way with computer security. 43% of respondents almost half formed their opinions about viruses just by reading newspapers!
Newspaper reporters talk to these people to get details (and quotes) for a story. This means the press feeds information to virus pseudo experts, who gladly regurgitate it for other reporters, who write more stories about viruses, which other pseudo experts read... thus creating an endless circle of misinformation and a neverending supply of "instant experts."
This same survey concluded with a sad statistic: it estimates two thirds of employees tasked with computer security duties have inadequate knowledge about computer viruses.

THE "GREEN PAINT FACTOR":

Interestingly, mainstream reporters sometimes quote computer industry reporters in stories about viruses. For example, the St. Louis Post Dispatch story mentioned earlier also included a quote from InfoWorld editor Ed Foster.

OFFICE VIRUS EXPERTS:

A rule of thumb: the first employee attacked by a computer virus will quickly rise to the position of office virus expert. "Trust me, I know what I'm talking about. I've been there."
Sadly, managers often overlook more competent people when naming office experts. "The guy who practices safe computing is a nobody," says CompuServe sysop Orville Fudpucker, "but all hail the jerk who barely survived an attack."
Jeff Duntemann, editor of PC Techniques magazine, has seen this trend and likens it to what he calls the Green Paint Factor. "If you want to extol the virtues of a can of green paint, and the best you can say is that it's green well, it's probably not good paint." If you want to quote somebody about computer viruses, and the best you can say is that he edits a weekly computer magazine...
Duntemann continues: "The job of a computer magazine editor [or reporter] is to know a little about a lot in the computer field. He has a considerable breadth of knowledge but not a serious depth of knowledge, except perhaps in a couple of very narrow specialties."
Why, then, does the mainstream media quote people in the computer press? Duntemann believes computer industry reporters (and editors in particular) can speak and write well. "If you can turn a good phrase about a subject, whether or not you know anything at all about it, then you have a good chance of being labeled an expert," he notes. "Especially by people who know nothing at all about that subject."

JOHN Q. PUBLIC:

People without impressive job titles suffer from False Authority Syndrome, too. A user who contracts a virus, for example, will often turn around and confidently tell other people how to avoid them. He or she may even rise to the position of "office virus expert."

COMMON MYTHS: The "Good Times" virus.

The FCC has discovered a virus which infects your computer if you read a message with "Good Times" written in the subject line. Ironically, well meaning computer users often include the phrase "Good Times" in the subject line of their message when alerting others!
False Authority Syndrome plays on two important desires. First, people genuinely like to help others; second, they like to feel in control of their computers. Users easily succumb to the effects of False Authority Syndrome when driven by these natural desires.
"Marcello," a typical user who took a hoax for real, posted a message on CompuServe warning users not to read any messages with "Good Times" in the subject line (lest they contract the socalled Good Times virus). Ironically, Marcello used "'Good Times' virus" in the subject line of his own warning message!
At least one virus expert sent Marcello a playful reply telling him to "stop infecting people" with the Good Times virus. Confronted with details about the hoax, Marcello replied, "Thank you for your help, and I'm sorry, because I was duped, but anyway I was worry [sic] about my computer and a lot more from [sic] my job."

IMPLICATIONS OF FALSE AUTHORITY SYNDROME:

Computer neophytes easily succumb to False Authority Syndrome. They feel more important by spreading the word about dangerous viruses. If someone else points out their errors, these people will often justify their actions in terms of fear. As Marcello noted in his apology, he feared both for his computer and for his job.

COMMON MYTHS "FCC Modem Tax" legislation.

The FCC wants Congress to tax every modem in the U.S. Well meaning computer users ask you to protest the legislation. "Tell your congressman to leave modems alone!" He probably didn't mean to imply it, but Marcello may believe fear absolves his ignorance. After all, if he worried only about his own computer and his own job, then he already knew how to avoid the mythical virus: he could feel safe in his own office. But Marcello went a step further by telling others how to avoid the mythical virus.
False Authority Syndrome contributes significantly to the spread of fear & myths about computer viruses. Many pseudo experts tell users to erect defensive barriers where viruses seldom attack, often leaving typical lines of attack exposed.
Widespread myths & misinformation have also convinced people to fear safe methods of computing and to put their trust in less safe methods. In her book Rx PC: The Anti Virus Handbook, Janet Endrijonas claims "approximately 70 percent of all viruses are boot sector viruses."
Wolfgang Stiller and other experts put the total above 90%. Boot sector viruses, by their nature, don't travel in software downloaded from BBSs yet pseudo experts constantly point to downloaded software as the biggest avenue for the spread of viruses.
In his book Inside the Norton Antivirus, Peter Norton dismisses the myth about the dangers of downloaded software. "Bulletin boards do more to spread the awareness of viruses... The primary method of communication concerning viruses is through BBSes [sic]." Robert Slade, writing in his book Guide to Computer Viruses, goes even further:

If I had to choose one viral myth that contributed most to the unchecked spread of [viruses] that exists today, it would be that of the 'safety' of commercial software... The feeling of false security relies on three assumptions:

(1) that [software downloaded from BBSs] is a major viral vector,
(2) that commercial software is never infected...
(3) that there are no viral vectors other than software.

What's a "Boot Sector" virus?:

Every IBM PC floppy disk has a reserved area known as the "boot sector." Every floppy disk's boot sector contains a small program known as the "boot code."
If your computer detects a floppy in the A: drive when it boots, it executes the boot code which in turn looks for an operating system on the floppy. If the boot code doesn't find an operating system, it will display "Non system disk or disk error" on your video monitor.
A boot sector virus infects the floppy disk's boot code and spreads to your computer's hard disk if you boot with an infected floppy in the A: drive.
Thanks largely to False Authority Syndrome, users now often panic at the first sign of odd computer behavior, sometimes inflicting more damage on themselves than any virus could do on its own (assuming they even had a virus in the first place).
Ross Greenberg earned international fame as one of the pioneers in IBM PC antivirus software. He went into semi-retirement in his mid-30s. Greenberg continues to lecture about viruses, wrapping up with a simple analysis of how he made his fortune: "I'd still be slaving away at a desk for another 25 years if people backed up [their computer data] and kept a cool head."

CONCLUSION:

I don't want to dispel any particular computer virus myths someone may have told you that's not my goal here. Rather, I want you to question a person's expertise if he or she claims to speak with authority on computer viruses. This way we can prevent all the "blind leading the blind" technobabble. And we can reduce the number of people who believe all the myths out there.

In summary:
- Most people have little or no expertise in the field of computer viruses.
- People with little or no expertise often fall prey to False Authority Syndrome.
- False Authority Syndrome contributes significantly to the spread of fear and myths about computer viruses.

PC Techniques editor Jeff Duntemann sums it up best: "If people exercised greater discretion in who and how and to what degree they place their trust, we would know more as a community and we would know it better. There would be fewer paths for bad or phony knowledge."

SIDEBAR STORIES:

FALSE "VIRUS ALERTS" ON MAJOR ONLINE SERVICES ALMOST ALL "ALERTS" of viruses in files on major online services prove unfounded. False alerts generally crop up in one of four common scenarios:

1. an antivirus program incorrectly detected a boot sector virus in an executable file;
2. an antivirus program incorrectly detected an executable file virus in an executable file;
3. an antivirus program incorrectly detected a virus in a data file;
4. an antivirus program correctly (or incorrectly!) detected a boot sector virus on a floppy or hard disk, and the user mistakenly thinks he got infected from a downloaded file. In some cases a user who posts the virus warning doesn't know what file he downloaded (if any) or even what areas he visited on the online service! CompuServe sysop Don Watkins deals with these people all too frequently:

Something weird happens to their computer, and they remember using CompuServe recently, and they believe the myth about viruses spreading mostly in downloaded files... They assume that their computer's weirdness must be caused by a virus, and that CompuServe somehow transmitted it to them. They log on again and scream bloody murder, saying things like 'Why don't you idiots check your files for viruses?' and so forth. We ask if they checked their computer with an antivirus program and they usually say no.

People used to blame power surges and lightning strikes for causing their problems. Now they blame viruses. Watkins knows the complicated nature of computers. "A lot can go wrong with them and viruses make for a 'sexy' explanation," he notes. "Remember, before viruses came along, everybody blamed the computer's weirdness on lightning strikes and power surges."
If you plan to shout "virus!" on a BBS or major online service, you should include at least the following information in your warning message:

- the name & version number of the software which detected the virus
- the specific identifying name of the virus it detected
- information on whether the virus infects boot sectors or standard executable files
- the downloaded filename which contained the infected file
- the "download count" which tells how many other users retrieved the file in question before you

Sysops on major networks check first to see if the virus in question infects only the "boot sector" of floppies & hard disks. If this proves the case, the sysops will have to diplomatically tell the user he left a bogus virus report.
Sysops then check the file's "download count" to see how many users had previously retrieved it. If hundreds of people have downloaded it, dozens will have checked it for viruses. The download count can tell sysops if a user left a bogus virus report.
Sysops then check the date the virus first appeared and compare it to the file's upload date. They may have received the file in 1990 for example, yet the virus in question didn't appear until 1993. If so, the sysops will know the user left a bogus virus report.
Sysops may want to know the name and version number of the antivirus software which detected the virus. If the user has an outdated copy or a version known to contain bugs, the sysops will ask the user to get a newer version.

EMPLOYEE FIRED WHEN HIS COMPUTER DIDN'T HAVE A VIRUS:

A programmer we'll call "Monty" lost his job in 1992 when his boss erroneously claimed to have found a virus on his computer. The boss had checked Monty's computer with an antivirus program and it alerted on software Monty had written for the company.
The antivirus software said the company's program had "changed," and the change might have involved a computer virus. Monty had recently recompiled the program, which certainly would account for why it had changed. But Monty's boss didn't consider this. He immediately jumped to the following conclusions: s if a virus might have changed the program, then a virus must have changed it;

- since a virus changed the program, the virus must be part of the program;
- since a virus is in the program, Monty must have written the virus;
- since Monty wrote the virus, he must have written it on company time.

Monty arrived at work the next day only to have his boss meet him at the front door. Escorted to a conference room, Monty faced a number of bigwigs who accused him of writing a virus on company time. They fired him on the spot and gave him a box containing the personal contents of his desk. Monty's boss escorted him out of the building.
Monty filed for unemployment benefits, but the company refused to pay. Monty had no choice but to hire a lawyer. The firm's lawyer learned what had really happened and he advised them to settle out of court.
The firm's lawyer learned what had really happened and he advised them to settle out of court. The company quickly changed its tune - Monty lost his job when management reorganized the computer department! They gave him a belated "severance bonus" and a glowing recommendation letter. And of course Monty received full unemployment benefits. The story has a happy ending. Another company hired Monty for more pay. He says his ex-boss still works at the old firm and calls it "poetic justice for them."

THE WORLDWIDE MICHELANGELO VIRUS SCARE OF 1992:

Researchers discovered a new computer virus in 1991. An examination showed it would erase IBM PC hard disks each year on March 6 the birthday of renaissance painter Michelangelo. The name stuck.
Michelangelo remained an obscure threat until January of 1992, when a major U.S. computer manufacturer announced it had accidentally shipped 500 PCs carrying the virus. Another computer manufacturer issued a press release the same day announcing their decision to include antivirus software with every computer.
This coincidence probably intrigued the major newswires; reporters sniffed for a story. United Press International found one when it talked to a group calling itself the "International Partner- ship Against Computer Terrorism." They also interviewed antivirus mogul John McAfee (himself no stranger to the media). UPI filed a newswire saying "hundreds of thousands of computers around the world" might fall victim to Michelangelo on March 6. A few days later, another major company admitted it accidentally distributed 900 floppy disks infected with Michelangelo. Then a Reuters reporter filed a newswire claiming the virus resided on "millions of personal computers around the world," with an estimate of five million attributed to John McAfee. A "data recovery consultant" named Martin Tibor started getting media atten- tion around this time, offering quotes like "I'm finding virus catastrophes everywhere" and "I see the victims of viruses all the time."
Antivirus firms snapped to attention as the media grew fascinated with Michelangelo. Symantec scored a publicity coup when it ran a full page ad announcing a free detection utility. Representatives from antivirus firms some of them employed in marketing departments called Michelangelo a "very serious threat."
Newspapers and TV stations ran "local impact" stories with quotes largely supplied by local computer salesmen. These "experts" simply parroted what they'd read in newspapers the previous day. Hysteria swept across the planet as frightened users drained store shelves of antivirus software. When the software dried up, customers purchased books about viruses.
Many virus researchers dismissed the hysteria as unwarranted, but reporters wouldn't listen to them. Stories about Michelangelo rarely questioned the astronomical estimates. And estimates about the impending disaster continued to rise a Reuters newswire at the height of the scare claimed one out of four PCs in the U.S. would fall prey to Michelangelo!
The tide of reporting changed on March 4 just two days before "M-Day" when an Associated Press editor finally listened to furious experts. Newswire stories started to focus on the fear sweeping the world rather than the virus itself. But this didn't stop the incredible hysteria.
March 6 came in like a lion... and went out like a lamb. Worldwide reports ranged from 10,000 to 20,000 computers, not five million. Perplexed reporters phoned experts who had accurately predicted Michelangelo's impact. "Why did everybody else claim five million?" a reporter would ask. "Because you talked to all the wrong people, that's why," an expert would respond.
The Michelangelo virus had turned into a worldwide media fiasco. Redfaced newswire agencies stopped reporting about it the very next day. Indeed, all major newswires had stopped reporting about it by 6am Eastern time the next day! They didn't run a single story about computer viruses for the next 13 days.
Opinions about this fiasco fall into two groups. Those who gave estimates in the millions say publicity itself made all the difference. They believe computer users learned about Michelangelo before it wreaked havoc. These people do have a point: the virus attacked 10,000 or more PCs despite worldwide hysteria.
Experts who predicted in the thousands point to data showing Michelangelo didn't have a big foothold it just had big publicity. They believe fear about the virus created a number of "false reports" when users panicked at the first sign of an odd computer behavior. The experts do have a point: panicky users often inflict damage on their computers and then blame it on a virus.