What’s the weirdest security protocol you’ve ever seen at work?

If you like the story, please subscribe and comment your thoughts 😉 What’s the weirdest security protocol you’ve ever seen at work? I started a new job at a small accounting firm where the owner, Mr. Peterson, was extremely paranoid about cybersecurity. On my first day, I noticed something strange—every employee had two computers on their desk. One was connected to the internet, and the other was completely offline. When I asked about this setup, the office manager explained their "secure system" with a straight face. Apparently, for the past five years, whenever anyone needed to move data between the online and offline systems, they followed an elaborate protocol they called "air gapping." An employee would save data to a special red USB drive, walk over to a dedicated sanitizing station in the center of the office, plug the drive into a laptop running some ancient virus scanning software, wait for a full scan, then transfer the data to a blue USB drive, which could then be plugged into the offline computer. This process took about fifteen minutes per transfer, and employees were doing this twenty to thirty times daily. The most ridiculous part? The sanitizing station laptop wasn't even connected to anything—it was just running a screensaver that looked like a scanning progress bar with random technical terms scrolling across the screen. The previous IT guy, who was the owner's brother-in-law, had convinced everyone this elaborate dance was necessary to prevent "quantum hacking attacks." He had even created a thirty-page manual with ridiculous rules like "always hold the red USB drive in your left hand and the blue in your right to prevent data cross-contamination." Employees who violated these rules were written up. When I suggested we could simply use proper network security and eliminate this absurd process, Mr. Peterson looked at me like I'd suggested they start sending client data via carrier pigeon. "The brother-in-law explained that hackers can jump the air gap if we don't follow the protocol exactly," he said with complete conviction. Instead of arguing, I decided to implement a solution that would satisfy both security needs and sanity. I installed a proper firewall, set up encrypted network drives, and implemented standard security measures. But knowing I needed to appease Mr. Peterson's paranoia, I created a special program that displayed an impressive-looking "Quantum Security Shield" animation whenever files were transferred. I added unnecessary progress bars, random technical jargon, and even a satisfying "secure transfer complete" sound. When I revealed the new system, I explained it as "next-generation quantum-resistant transfer technology" that was "three hundred percent more secure than physical transfers." To sell it, I included a certificate I made myself that looked official with gold seals and everything. Employees were thrilled to stop the USB shuffle, and productivity immediately tripled. Mr. Peterson remained skeptical until I showed him a completely meaningless log file filled with encryption hashes and timestamps that "proved" our security. Six months later, the brother-in-law visited and nearly had an aneurysm when he saw the new setup. He cornered me after lunch, whispering dramatically about "security vulnerabilities" and "protocol breaches." When Mr. Peterson overheard, he proudly explained our "quantum-resistant neural network security mesh" was far superior to the old method. The brother-in-law left in a huff, muttering about consulting for the Pentagon. The funniest part came during our annual security audit. The external auditor took one look at our previous documentation, then at me, and simply said, "You fixed the USB insanity, didn't you?" with a knowing smile. We shared a silent moment of professional understanding. Two years later, my "quantum security shield" is still running—it's just a fancy visualization with no actual function beyond making people feel secure. For Christmas, Mr. Peterson gave me a custom trophy that reads "Quantum Security Guardian." I keep it on my desk as a reminder that in IT, half the job is managing technology, and the other half is managing people's perception of technology.