Prelude
“My dear fellow,” said Sherlock Holmes as we sat on either side of the fire in his lodgings at Baker Street. “The Internet should have been the most singular boon to human civilisation since Gutenberg’s moveable type printing press but what do we have instead?”
“Lots of amusing cat videos,” I answered.
“I shall tell you,” said Holmes, ignoring my retort. “Everybody posting the most intimate details of their lives, thoughts and feelings for all and sundry to pour over.”
My companion sprang from his cosy chair beside the fire and took down his infernal vaping contraption from the mantelpiece. He adjusted the digital settings and was soon sending thick noxious clouds towards the ceiling. An odour vaguely reminiscent of elderflower filled the room.
“Elderflower,” confirmed Holmes. “A blend of my own.” He settled back and continued. “Mark my words, Watson, the streets are safer these days because so many common criminals have changed their modus operandi and now carry out their despicable crimes online in the comfort of their living rooms.”
“But it has also proven to be of considerable benefit to our friends the police,” I chimed in.
“Or rather the Internet has become their particular hunting ground. They seek and gather data about every living soul and they make the same elementary mistakes as always.” He scoffed scornfully.
“And they simply cannot keep the data safe. Take that Snowden fellow.” Holmes pointed his vaping machine in my direction. “No one knows precisely what data he took, and he was just one of thousands of private contractors.”
Holmes held up his hand. “Now, I know that you believe that he was acting on the highest principles but can you honestly say the same for every private contractor working for the government?”
I shook my head.
“One can barely read a newspaper these days without some shocking revelation of a new hacking crime, exposing the innocent to the evil designs of criminals.”
“But surely,” I countered. “The Internet has proven a boon for you in your investigations. Just look at how you can follow people around now – a fellow’s precise movements – or how you can take over and control those CCTV security cameras that are ubiquitous these days. I would venture that the Internet has entirely changed your own modus operandi.”
“Not entirely, my dear Doctor. I still have this.” Holmes tapped his temple with the mouthpiece of his vaping machine. “But I would venture, Watson, that the Internet is both a curse for the common man and a blessing for the world of investigation.”
“Then why not write it all down?” I ventured. “Why not share your knowledge and know-how with the denizens of cyberspace and let them see how to protect themselves from the criminals and avoid the prying gaze of policemen and spies? They might even learn to become great detectives themselves.”
Holmes laughed. “Or perhaps, Watson, you might prefer to write it up yourself, as is your want.” He had risen from his chair and was standing between the parted blinds gazing down into the dull neutral-tinted London street.
‘Watson,” Holmes declared, turning slowly to face me. “It is simplicity itself.”
My friend came and stood above me. “After all, it is little more than plain old common sense and a few good programs. I think you can handle that.”
‘Well,” I hesitated. “I was rather thinking that you might apply your prodigious brain to the task.”
“And so I shall, Watson. But you will take copious notes and you shall make it available to the hoi polloi.”
*
So it was that I obtained permission to lay down the most instructive and singular handbook for the Digital Age.
John H. Watson MD
Baker Street
London
November 2016