The Economist February 19th 2022 Business 63
Cyberrattling
N
otpetya is a nasty name for the world’s vilest computer
attack. Embedded in an innocuous piece of tax software, the
virus, which the American government said had the Kremlin’s fin
gerprints all over it, struck Ukraine in June 2017, knocking out fed
eral agencies, transport systems, cash machines—even the radia
tion monitors at Chernobyl, the husk of a nuclearpower station.
It then went rogue, worming its way from the computers of
multinational firms with local outposts in Ukraine to their global
operations, causing collateral damage to victims ranging from
Maersk, a huge shipping company, and SaintGobain, a French
construction giant, to Mondelez International, owner of Cadbury
chocolate. The total hit was put at $10bn, making it the costliest
such attack ever. One of the most expensive blows fell on Merck, a
New Jerseybased drugmaker with a market value close to $200bn,
which lost 40,000 computers in the blink of an eye and was forced
to halt manufacturing of its humanpapillomavirus vaccine.
Merck sought to cover its cyberlosses with a $1.4bn property
insurance claim. However, its insurers refused to pay, invoking a
clause in the contract called war exclusion. This precludes cover
age in the event of warlike action by governments or their agents.
The matter ended up in a New Jersey court. Years later, as Russian
troops and cyberwarriors are once again threatening Ukraine, a
judgment in the case offers a timely reason to explore how much
companies have learned since then about dealing with potentially
catastrophic cyberwarfare. The short answer is: not enough.
The Merck judgment, made public last month, is potentially a
landmark one. It tackles a question of great importance in the con
text of modernday belligerence: is cyberwarfare war? Merck’s in
surers, including firms like Chubb, argued that there was ample
evidence that NotPetya was an instrument of the Russian govern
ment and part of ongoing hostilities against Ukraine. In other
words, it was an act of warlike behaviour covered by the war exclu
sion. The court, however, sidestepped the question of who was re
sponsible for the assault. Instead, it said that insurers did nothing
to change the language of their contracts to suggest that the war
exclusion included cyberattacks. It said it was reasonable for
Merck to think that the exclusion applied only to “traditional”
warfare, ie, tanks and troops, not worms, bugs and hackers.
It is not the final verdict. A similar warexclusion case involv
ing Mondelez and its insurers continues in an Illinois court. But
though it marked a victory for Merck, it may be a Pyrrhic one for
companies at large. That is because many insurers are now seek
ing to strengthen the language in policies the better to shield
themselves from payouts related to statesponsored cybermis
chief. If a NotPetyalike virus were to come from Russia’s warmon
gering in Ukraine and burrow itself into the world’s supply chains,
insurers are keen to ensure they limit their exposure to it. The
consequences of that for corporate victims could be severe.
The evidence suggests companies have a lot to fear. Last year a
report by hp, a technology firm, said that statesponsored attacks
had doubled between 2017 and 2020, and that businesses were the
most common targets. Increasingly, the state hackers’ weapon of
choice is malware inserted into the software or hardware of sup
pliers, which is particularly hard for companies up the value chain
to detect. Unlike other cybercriminals, who attack and move on,
states have strategic patience, lots of resources and are above the
law within their own borders. They cover their tracks well, too, so
it can be particularly hard to attribute blame for an attack.
In the face of that, the insurance industry’s caution is under
standable. It is already facing a surge in ransomware claims from
companies during the covid19 pandemic, which is driving up the
price of cyberinsurance. The NotPetya attack revealed the risk of
“silent cyber”, or unspecified cyberrisk hidden within insurance
contracts. These could pose a systemic risk to the industry in the
event of a largescale, correlated attack. Partly in response to such
threats, Lloyd’s Market Association, an advisory group, recently
issued four model clauses for excluding war coverage from cyber
insurance policies. They enable insurance companies to custo
mise their exclusions more easily and give companies more clar
ity on which risks are covered and which aren’t. But they appear to
protect the insurers more than the insured.
It is still an evolving market. The Merck warexclusion judg
ment relied on case law rendered before cyber was even a word.
The cyberinsurance industry, though growing fast, is still small
and immature. Eventually, the actuarial techniques for gauging
cyberrisk will improve, and the insurance industry will get better
at requiring clients to introduce the cyberequivalent of fire
alarms and sprinkler systems to minimise danger. For now,
though, the risk of considerable confusion persists if something
close to a cyberwar were to break out.
Self-isolation
So what should companies do? A wellknown checklist of safety
measures to implement includes things like twofactor authenti
cation and swift software updates, which help keep hackers at bay.
In light of the danger of infection along the supply chain, either
from compromised hardware or software, firms should painstak
ingly assess their contingent exposures: factories or offices in far
flung locations, outsourced it, cloud computing and even cyber
security itself.
Corporate boards need to have a stronger grasp of the threat
levels. As one former cyberspook says, they need not just gender
and racial diversity but technological diversity, too, in order to
grill the company’s techies on cyberdefences. Furthermore, they
need to recognise cyberwar as one of the growing number of geo
political risks that firms face. Ensuring that any of a firm’scontact
points with Ukraine and Russia are not a vulnerability fortherest
of its operations is the first of many steps they should take.n
Schumpeter
Companies have a lot to fear from Russia’s digital warmongering