About Sophie

Cybersecurity, assurance, technology, identity, and life in my increasingly full-time girl-mode.

Major New Publication Series: Sophie Baskerville’s History of Cybersecurity

sophie @ baskerville.net ©️1977-2026 Sophie Baskerville

Octet II | Cryptography becomes machinery, intelligence and profession


Wide, sepia-toned composite illustration celebrating the people behind early cryptography and computing. At the left, two women analyse intercepted messages beside radio equipment, naval code sheets, rumrunner ciphers and a nameplate marked “A. M. Driscoll”. In the centre, three Polish mathematicians work with an Enigma machine and perforated Zygalski sheets beneath a large Polish flag, while technical knowledge is passed to a British naval officer. To the right, a thoughtful male cryptanalyst sits beside an “ULTRA” file as numerous women operate rows of British Bombe machines. At the far right, another woman uses scissors and a hand punch to repair paper tape beside a Ferranti Mark 1 computer and an ornate wooden tool box. Papers, machine parts, codebooks and punched tape flow across the foreground, linking cryptanalysis to early software maintenance. Small purple ribbons, pens and a wax seal provide colour accents. The crowded scene emphasises the mathematicians, engineers, operators, analysts and programmers whose work made the celebrated machines possible, but whose names were often omitted from history. And in some cases did not survive intact to experience it.

“The machines entered history. Too many of the people were written out of it.”

𝗢𝗰𝘁𝗲𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗦𝗲𝗰𝗼𝗻𝗱

I thought I knew what this set of eight articles would be about.

Machines. Ciphers. Intercepted messages. The gradual transformation of cryptography from a specialised craft into an organised profession.

I was wrong. It is about people.

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It is about Elizebeth Friedman reading the secrets of rumrunners and Nazi spies, only for institutions and men around her to inherit much of the credit.

It is about Agnes Meyer Driscoll breaking Japanese naval systems and training the officers history later chose to remember instead.

It is about Polish mathematicians, engineers and intelligence officers who cracked Enigma before the war, passed their work to Britain as invasion approached, and then watched their contribution fade behind a simpler national myth.

It is about thousands of women operating the machinery, preparing the records, checking the results and keeping the intelligence system alive while history photographed the machines and cropped them out.

It is about Alan Turing helping to save a country clever enough to use his mind, but not civilised enough to protect the man who possessed it.

And it ends with Joan Travis, a programmer in 1950s Manchester, physically repairing software with scissors, Sellotape and a small brass punch called a bodger. Even there, in the apparently modest history of the software patch, another woman’s technical work was waiting to be rediscovered.

This octet affected me greatly.

Some of these stories upset me. Some made me genuinely furious. Every one left me with a sense of what had been lost: lives shortened, names erased, credit displaced, knowledge hidden and human potential squandered by prejudice, secrecy and institutional convenience.

The technical achievements are extraordinary.

But the strongest lesson is not technical.

Security capability does not emerge from machines alone. It comes from people: mathematicians, linguists, engineers, operators, teachers, spies, maintainers and analysts. Some become famous. Many disappear into the institutions that used their work.

Remembering them is not decorative. It is part of understanding the capability itself.

The machine was broken.

The intelligence was protected.

Too often, the people were not.

This is Octet the Second of A History of Cybersecurity in 2⁷ Artefacts.

I expected it to explain how cryptography became machinery.

Instead, it showed me the human cost of deciding whose work counts as history.

THIS is the heart of the project.

Not merely a history of artefacts, but a restoration of provenance. A refusal to let the machinery eclipse the people who imagined it, built it, operated it, repaired it, risked their lives for it, and were then quietly removed from the official version.

That is why this octet hurts.

And why it matters.

Sophie Baskerville signature in purple
Octet the second – Contents

Cryptography becomes machinery, intelligence and profession