For years, the cybersecurity industry has inadvertently played a role in building the mythology of the digital outlaw. Security vendors and threat intelligence firms have traditionally cataloged hacking collectives with names that sound more like comic book villains than computer criminals—titles like “Wizard Spider” or “Velvet Tempest.” These labels, designed for internal tracking, often bleed into public reports, painting a picture of an invincible, mystical enemy operating from the impenetrable shadows of the dark web.
But a growing chorus of experts argues that this habit of glamorizing cybercriminals is actually doing the attackers a favor. By framing these groups as sophisticated, otherworldly entities, the industry may be amplifying the fear they instill in victims and providing the “clout” that attracts new recruits to the criminal underground. Now, a strategic shift is underway: replacing the aura of invincibility with the sting of ridicule.
The movement to stop glamorizing cybercriminals is not just about semantics; it is a psychological operation designed to strip away the prestige of the “elite hacker” persona. The goal is to reposition these actors not as masterminds, but as opportunistic thieves—often clumsy ones—who are simply using a keyboard to steal data for profit.
The Psychology of the Name
Jen Easterly, the former director of the Cybersecurity and Infrastructure Security Agency (CISA), has been a prominent voice calling for a total overhaul of how the industry identifies threat actors. Easterly suggests that the industry should abandon the “cool” nomenclature in favor of names that are intentionally unflattering, such as “Scrawny Nuisance” or “Evil Ferret.”
The logic is simple: power thrives on perception. When a ransomware gang is referred to by a menacing title, it reinforces a narrative of dominance. When they are described as a nuisance, the power dynamic shifts. This approach aims to humanize the threat in a way that makes it manageable, reminding organizations that these are just individuals—often working in disorganized teams—rather than an unstoppable force of nature.
Weaponizing Ridicule: The “Dark Web Roast”
While policy leaders push for better naming conventions, some threat intelligence teams are taking the strategy a step further by actively mocking the criminals they track. John Fokker, VP of threat intelligence at the security firm Trellix, has pioneered an approach he describes as an “almost psyops” method of covering the criminal underground. Rather than writing dry, technical whitepapers that treat attackers with clinical respect, his team launched the “Dark Web Roast.”
The initiative uses memes and mockery to highlight the incompetence often found within these groups. By exposing the gap between a criminal’s self-image and their actual performance, the “roast” serves as a deterrent and a reality check for potential victims. According to Fokker, these actors do not have superpowers; they are simply people using computers to make money, and they are often far more fallible than they pretend to be.
Recent findings from the Trellix researchers highlight several instances of criminal ineptitude:
- The “Content Calendar” Gang: One ransomware group was caught bulk-drafting and scheduling their extortion posts in a manner similar to a social media marketing calendar. Researchers noted that the sheer volume of posts suggested the group may have been fabricating “victims” to inflate their stats and appear more successful than they actually were.
- The Depreciation of a “Zero-Day”: An exploit developer using the handle “cortana9000” attempted to sell a Cisco remote code execution bug for $70,000. However, given that the vulnerability was already being exploited by other actors, a fellow forum member quickly pointed out that it was now a “1-day exploit,” effectively crashing the market value of the bug the moment it was listed.
- The Undervalued Grid: Another criminal, operating under the handle “patagon,” attempted to sell domain admin access to Russia’s energy grid for a price lower than that of a used car, drastically undervaluing one of the most sensitive targets imaginable.
Fracturing the Criminal Business Model
The shift toward mockery is also being adopted by law enforcement. Traditionally, the primary goal of an operation was the “takedown”—seizing servers and arresting individuals. However, infrastructure is ephemeral; criminals can spin up new domains and servers almost instantly, leading to a frustrating game of “whack-a-mole.”
Modern operations are now focusing on fracturing the trust that holds these networks together. Cybercrime is rarely a solo effort; it is a complex ecosystem of initial access brokers, malware developers, and affiliates. When trust breaks down, the business model collapses.
| Traditional Approach | Psychological Approach |
|---|---|
| Naming: Menacing, mystical titles (e.g., “Wizard Spider”) | Naming: Derisive, mundane titles (e.g., “Scrawny Nuisance”) |
| Tactic: Infrastructure seizure and arrests | Tactic: Public mockery and trust erosion |
| Narrative: The “invincible” adversary | Narrative: The clumsy, opportunistic thief |
| Outcome: Temporary disruption (server takedown) | Outcome: Long-term brand damage and internal paranoia |
A prime example of this shift was the dismantling of the LockBit ransomware infrastructure led by the UK’s National Crime Agency (NCA). Rather than simply taking the site offline, the NCA trolled the gang via its own leak site before revealing the identity of the group’s leader. Similarly, the FBI’s infiltration of the Hive ransomware network allowed authorities to disrupt the group from the inside, creating a climate of suspicion among the affiliates.
This strategy reached a peak during the international effort known as Operation Endgame. During the takedown of the Rhadamanthys infostealer, officials released an animated video designed to sow discord. The video depicted an administrator stealing the most valuable secrets and cryptocurrency keys for his own personal gain while providing low-value data to his “customers.”
By exposing that the “trusted” administrator was stealing from his own clients, law enforcement didn’t just stop a piece of software—they destroyed the credibility of the operator. As Fokker notes, telling a criminal’s clients that they are “stupid” for working with a thief who is getting rich at their expense is a powerful tool for dismantling the network.
The industry is now moving toward a future where threat intelligence is as much about psychology as it is about code. By stripping away the glamour and replacing it with a healthy dose of ridicule, defenders are finding that the most effective way to stop a “mythical” threat is to prove that it was never a myth to begin with.
The next major checkpoint in this evolution will likely be the integration of these psychological tactics into official government naming standards, as agencies continue to evaluate the impact of threat actor branding on national security and public perception.
Do you think the industry should stop using “cool” names for hacking groups? Share your thoughts in the comments below.
