Like many Americans, I tend to feel generous this time of year — not only because it’s the season for giving, but also for the tax implications. This year, however, my usual concerns about how many deductions I can claim on next year’s return have given way to worries about privacy.
In fiscal 2021, the Internal Revenue Service processed 269 million tax forms, each one rich with information that scammers and thieves would love to have.
Ever since 1996, when what was then known as the General Accounting Office issued a
Here’s the IG report: “Until the IRS takes steps to improve its security program deficiencies and fully implement all security program components in compliance with FISMA requirements, taxpayer data could be vulnerable to inappropriate and undetected use, modification or disclosure.”
The wordsmith in me can’t leave unremarked upon the drafters’ clumsy effort to soften the harshness of this judgment. To be “vulnerable” is to be susceptible to harm; a vulnerable person is one who might easily suffer something bad. (Think, the unvaccinated.) Thus the phrase “could be vulnerable” is what my older brother used to call a double impositive. The taxpayer data either are vulnerable or not.
They are. Enormously.
Consider the Income Verification Express Service, known as IVES, which allows lenders to use IRS data to check income claims. Few of the companies that use the service have complied with security mandates. And the IRS itself has scarcely done better: “We identified 8,754 tax transcripts that the IVES Program improperly issued for 4,726 taxpayers during Processing Year 2019” — all because either the software of the clerks didn’t take proper note that the file in question had been flagged for identity theft.
The report is full of similarly alarming nuggets, from improperly sanitized laptops and smartphones to insecure physical door locks, from inactive accounts with administrative access that nobody’s disabled to inaccurate equipment inventory in the department’s crime lab.
And there are bigger issues. For instance, the legacy systems have persistent vulnerabilities: “Configuration management compliance for Windows and Linux servers is not effective,” the report states flatly. It’s hardly reassuring that the explanation that follows, which occupies a good two pages, has been almost entirely redacted.
Oh, and just in case you’re wondering: “Vulnerabilities open past remediation time frames are not effectively documented and tracked.” In other words, the agency itself isn’t sure which vulnerabilities have been patched — or even which ones exist.
Remember the leak of confidential taxpayer information to ProPublica
But it’s not surprising. An
At the Department of Education, investigators “successfully transmitted to an external email address a test file containing 200 credit card numbers in a format that should have been blocked according to the Department’s policy.” By exploiting the same flaw, a real document containing thousands or tens of thousands of credit card numbers could have been stolen.
Seven of the eight departments surveyed were equally abysmal at cybersecurity.
If the federal government were a private corporation, trial lawyers would be having a field day. The fact that its agencies are protected by the principle of sovereign immunity is producing exactly the moral hazard problems scholars have long noted.
The issue is government-wide, so it is unfair to single out the IRS and its 81,000 employees. (My own admittedly rare interactions have been excellent.) And the unfortunate bipartisan
Having said that, it is fair to ask whether there might be a point to the widespread skepticism about such new IRS requirements as the one calling for banks to share ever more information about ever-smaller accounts. Maybe a government hungry for more private data should first meet its own standards for security.