I attended a 30-minute webinar that morning nominally about a very particular area of cybersecurity. I learned a lot.
Though it was not at all what I expected to learn.
Nor was it what I expect they were wanting me to learn.
There were two speakers at the event.
At the 15-minute mark, I had learned that:
- the two had originally met at a cafe in a foreign country (though not which country),
- one was now a consultant (though I don’t know on what) after being an executive at several large companies that were at least peripherally related to the alleged subject of the talk,
- the other was the head of product at a company presumably in the space that sells something presumably in the space (though I don’t know what or even that it is a product as opposed to a service, a periodical or perhaps a breakfast cereal),
- that they were getting an increasing number of calls from customers (who I presume didn’t need to attend the webinar), and,
- neither of them knew how to share PowerPoint slides in a webinar.
In the second half, I had learned that:
- the speakers believed that people in general didn’t understand probabilistic risk (which I believe is true),
- the speakers themselves also didn’t understand how to think about probabilistic risk,
- some sports venues showed great wisdom in purchasing insurance that protected them when attendance fell to near zero because of COVID-19,
- the speakers believed that people preparing for this particular cyber security issue would show even greater wisdom than the sports venue owners, and,
- most surprisingly, critically important data and infrastructure should be prioritized in cybersecurity over less important things.
Between the two halves, I learned everything, as a previously potential customer that I needed to know.
