WHEN THE MILLENNIUM BUG
BITES
By NILES LATHEM
Scenario of a computer-dominated world going bonkers
Beware the Millennium Bug.
Experts warn it could wreak havoc on
Jan. 1, 2000 - triggering a worldwide paralysis that would dwarf the chaos
depicted in the old science-fiction movie "The Day the Earth Stood
Still."
Instead of an extraterrestrial invader
shutting down transportation, banking, business and government worldwide,
the culprit is two measly digits at the end of a computer code.
Those two numbers, experts say, could
bring the Information Age, and modern society, to its knees.
It's the Year 2000 problem, the Millennium
Bug - or Y2K (Y for year and 2K for 2000) in cyberspeak.
Our computers - which keep track of
our money, operate countless devices in our homes, target our weapons,
purify our water, administer our government, keep our aircraft from colliding,
diagnose health problems and manufacture products - are on a collision
course with the millennium.
The problem is this:
Back in the dark ages of the computer
era - the 1950s - programmers saved precious space by dropping the first
two numbers of all years. That meant that the year 1998 became 98.
Fine - until you get to the year 2000,
or "00."
Many computers - and even the microcomputers
embedded in everyday devices - either read "00" as 1900, or are
programmed to reject it altogether as an invalid date.
And dates appear in billions of lines
of computer codes.
Business and government have been trying
for years to correct the problem, with estimates on how many programs will
be fixed in time ranging from 30 to 70 percent.
So, what will happen when the dreaded
"00" begins?
The Post asked a panel of experts.
Among those interviewed were Sen. Bob
Bennett (R-Utah) and Rep. Stephen Horn (R-Calif.) who chair special congressional
panels on the Year 2000 problem; Councilman Andrew Eristoff (R-Manhattan)
who is monitoring the city's readiness; and Canadian cyberscholar and lecturer
Peter deJager.
Also, Lou Marcoccio, research director
of the Gartner Group, which is consulting with Fortune 500 companies on
the issue; and Michael Higgins, president of Century Services, which is
installing software for companies to make their computer systems Year 2000
compliant.
They all agree the Year 2000 problem
is emerging as the most expensive in human history and that government
and business have been slow to respond to the looming crisis.
What follows is a fictional account
of the Millennium based on their predictions.
FRIDAY, Dec. 31, 1999
11:59:00 p.m. - Times Square. Hundreds
of thousands of revelers cheer wildly as the ball starts dropping, ushering
in the new millennium.
SATURDAY, Jan. 1, 2000
12:00:30 a.m. - Under the East River.
A tiny embedded computer chip, one of millions in the Con Ed system, reacts
to new signals set off by the dreaded numbers 00. Despite the millions
spent by Con Ed to update its codes, the Year 2000 Bug has struck. The
tiny piece of silicon sends out conflicting messages and malfunctions -
setting off a chain reaction that shuts down the power grid for most of
Midtown Manhattan.
12:00:33 a.m. - Times Square. The crowd
oohs and ahhs as the neon lights welcoming in the millennium flicker, fizzle
and crackle. Everything goes dark.
12:00:44 a.m. - Aboard BudgetAir Flight
2000. The pilot high-fives his co-pilot as the millennium arrives and passes
and the computerized navigation systems in the cockpit continue to work.
The redesigned Boeing 737, now on its approach to Kennedy Airport following
a trouble-free flight from Cleveland, is one of the few planes in the air
- most airlines rescheduled or canceled their regular overnight flights
to avoid any possible 00-related disasters.
12:00:50 a.m. - Radar Approach Center,
Ronkonkoma, L.I. An air traffic controller sits at his radar screen, bored
and feeling sorry for himself for having to work a double shift on this
historic day. BudgetAir Flight 2000 suddenly disappears from his screen.
12:01:00 a.m. EST - Nuclear Power Plant
3, Smolensk, Russia. Computer chips controlling security, radiation monitoring
and accumulated burn-up calculations malfunction at one of the reactor
sites nine hours after the internal computer clocks strike the dreaded
00. Alarms go off. Workers, who haven't been paid in four months, scramble
to locate - and solve - the problem.
12:02 a.m. - National Security Agency,
Fort Meade, Md. A U.S. Air Force captain sits at a console reviewing data
coming in from the ultra-secret COBRA platform - a space-based system monitoring
all electronic communications in Iraq. Systems in the agency's code-breaking
CRAY computer suddenly reboot - one to 1969, another to 1900. Decades of
code-breaking data is erased. Communications between Iraqi National Guard
commanders in Basra and Baghdad become gibberish.
12:03 a.m. - The Rainbow Room, Manhattan.
A cocky 26-year-old stockbroker hosts a party of 20 at one of the most
exclusive millennium celebrations in town. He's jubilant. Although the
Dow's been down for months and the economy is teetering towards recession,
he earned huge bonuses in 1999 by identifying the companies behind in defeating
the Year 2000 Bug and advising clients to sell short.
When required mid-year Security and
Exchange Commission reports came out detailing which companies were behind,
he made a windfall.
After a full-course meal and lots of
champagne, the broker whips out his credit card to pay the bill. Moments
later he's told his American Express card has "expired."
12:04 a.m. - Times Square. The party's
over. Confusion has replaced revelry. A drunken 18-year-old picks up a
garbage can and hurls it through the window of an electronics supply store.
Several fights break out simultaneously. Women begin to scream. Cops move
in to keep the peace.
12:05 a.m. - Greenwich, Conn. Bizarre
things are happening on tree-lined streets and in stately homes. Computerized
sprinkler systems are going off in the frigid January night, turning lawns
and streets into sheets of ice.
Date functions in thermostats shut
down the heat in homes. Microwave ovens with embedded chips in them stop
working. People watching movies have trouble working their home VCRs. It's
almost impossible to get on the Internet.
12:07 a.m. - Aboard Flight 2000. Increasingly
concerned about his inability to communicate with air traffic control,
the pilot asks a flight attendant to find a passenger with a cell phone.
12:08 a.m. - Rainbow Room. The embarrassed
broker leaves his guests to find an ATM so he can get money to pay his
tab. He waits for an elevator, but none comes - embedded computer chips
in the GE Building's elevator system have sent a signal that it's time
to shut down for maintenance. The elevators are all inactive, sitting in
the basement. The exec walks down 65 floors.
12:09 a.m. - Flight 2000. Communication
between the pilot and New York TRACOM is restored - with the air traffic
controller using a cell phone to talk the pilot into his Kennedy Airport
approach. It's a clear night and the 737 touches down without incident.
12:11 a.m. - Rockefeller Center. The
broker finds an ATM, but it rejects his card, flashing the message, "Sorry
you have entered an improper security code." Desperate to find an
ATM that works, he gets into his car and turns the key. It doesn't work.
The computer system in his Mercedes has malfunctioned.
12:12 a.m. - Times Square. The power
is back on, but the surge triggers outages in Harlem and TriBeCa. Other
outages hit sections of Staten Island and The Bronx.
Police and EMS crews can't get to the
problem areas - they're stuck in massive tie-ups. Traffic lights everywhere
are blinking - their computerized timing controls have gone haywire.
12:13 a.m. - Brooklyn. A Park Slope
housewife hangs up after a short New Year's call to her mother on Long
Island. In a month, she'll get a bill for $1,345,599. The computerized
statement will indicate her phone call lasted 100 years and 13 minutes.
12:14 a.m. - Rockefeller Center. The
harried stockbroker stops at a pay phone to call his friends still waiting
for him at the Rainbow Room. He dials 411 for directory assistance and
gets a recording stating that it is not in service. Bell Atlantic, over
the past two years, had spent most of its resources redesigning its software
to ensure that everyone would get a dial tone in the new millennium. Other
services will have to wait.
SUNDAY, Jan. 2, 2000
8:00 a.m. - White House Situation Room.
Red-eyed President Clinton and President-elect Gore co-chair an emergency
Cabinet meeting.
Reports of Y2K problems have been coming
in from all parts of the world. There are regional blackouts throughout
the country. Hawaii is totally without power. The water filtration system
in Washington, D.C., isn't working. Communication with a British nuclear
submarine in the North Atlantic has been lost. Brazil's phone system is
out.
The president's economic advisers are
making dire predictions about what lies ahead when businesses reopen after
the holiday weekend. A decision is made to keep the stock markets closed
until Wednesday - one more day than previously planned.
8:01 a.m. - Columbia Presbyterian Medical
Center, Manhattan. The internal clock in the admitting office's computer
system has changed the year from 1999 to 1900 - which means all patient
records are lost and the hospital cannot access or record medical histories
and insurance information.
Harried administrators have spent the
night turning away patients or having them wait. The chief resident spots
emergency patients lying on gurneys in a hallway and demands that they
be treated - processing be damned.
Angry clerks are now preparing admissions
forms by hand. Billing is a nightmare that will just have to wait.
The MRI, CT Scan and IV machines appear
to be working. But in the average hospital, there are 29 mission-critical
systems and more than 15,000 medical devices that depend on computers.
And that doesn't include the 5,000 personal computers and computers that
control the hospital infrastructure.
It will be months before all the problems
are identified.
8:02 a.m. - Kennedy Airport. Chaos
reigns. Although the air traffic control system is back to normal and most
aircraft appear to be safe and operational, the complex and time-sensitive
reservations systems of most major airlines have shut down.
Long lines are forming. People showing
up with confirmed reservations are being turned away. Port Authority cops
have detained two who became violent when they were told their $1,200 tickets
to California were invalid - after a three-hour wait.
The big board announcing arrival and
departure times isn't functioning.
Three morning flights are canceled
when their crews don't show - the computers that schedule them are down.
Two planes almost collide when they're
sent to the same gate.
8:03 a.m. - City Hall, Manhattan. A
weary Mayor Giuliani meets with 43 department heads.
The city's 687 mission-critical computer
systems - updated with Year 2000 codes - appear to be functioning. Most
essential services have continued uninterrupted.
The subways, with their antiquated
signal system, seem to be running on time and without incident. Con Ed
expects power to be restored to most areas of the city within a week.
But there are problems.
The fire commissioner reports elevators
in 35 percent of the city's buildings aren't operating. And the comptroller
reveals that computers are automatically canceling all city contracts.
Officials warn that there will be huge
overtime bills for cops, firemen and emergency workers who have been working
round-the-clock handling Year 2000-related problems.
As the meeting disbands, a grim-faced
political aide tells the mayor there's "one more problem" - Board
of Elections computers have erased the lists of signatures, essentially
wiping out the city's record of registered voters. "This could mean
we can't hold an election next year," he says.
The mayor, whose term expires in a
year, is silent for a moment and then shouts, "Get me Garth."
12:00 p.m. - White House TV Studio.
Although the inauguration is weeks away, it's Gore not Clinton who addresses
the nation from the TV studio in the Old Executive Office Building.
The president-elect is upbeat and reassuring.
He points out that most U.S. government mission-critical systems are operating,
no nuclear missiles have gone off accidentally and the Armed Forces of
all NATO countries are functioning.
"There will be no interruption
in services provided by Social Security, IRS, Medicare, Medicaid, Welfare,
the Nuclear Regulatory Commission, FBI, FEMA and here at the White House."
He adds that the Federal Reserve and
the Treasury Department have "contingency plans" to address expected
"disruptions in the business community in the coming weeks."
Acknowledging "significant inconveniences
for many of you in the days and weeks ahead," he urges Americans to
pull together and return to the "pioneering spirit of our forefathers."
Throughout the speech, Gore appears
to be curiously furtive, frequently looking down at his desk. It's later
learned that the word processor controlling his TelePrompTer malfunctioned
and he had to read from his notes.
2:00 p.m. - Attica State Prison, Attica,
N.Y. A near-riot has just been quelled in Cell Block D of this maximum
security prison. The computer system that controls rows of cells opened
the doors an hour early and it took three hours for guards to restore order.
Upstairs, an associate warden is trying
to put out another fire. On his desk are 1,575 release orders for hardened
criminals - all of whom are supposed to serve lengthy sentences. The reason
for the mixup: an 00-related glitch in the clock in the prison computer
that made them eligible for release.
MONDAY, Jan. 3, 2000
9:00 a.m. - First Tokyo Bank, Tokyo.
An accounts manager begins the first business day of the new millennium
with a routine transaction - an American customer wants 135 billion yen
converted into U.S. dollars and transferred to his account in New York.
A few clicks of his computer mouse
and he's finished. What the accounts manager doesn't know is that one of
the three dozen computer programs that must interface in carrying out the
transaction is not Year 2000 compatible. It records the transfer as having
been made in 1900. The other programs do not accept that data - $100 million
disappears into cyberspace.
10:00 a.m. - Lippo Bank, Singapore.
Riot police arrive at the bank, where a crush of frenzied customers is
waiting outside to make withdrawals. Rumors circulated all weekend that
data on all bank deposits, loans and transactions would be erased by the
millennium bug. Though not true, the customers refuse to believe bank officials,
who are trying to decide whether to open their doors.
10:30 a.m. - Royal Malaysia Bank, Kuala
Lumpur. The loan department is in disarray. The computers that calculate
interest have gone crazy. Last year, they subtracted 98 from 99 to figure
a year's interest on business loans, but now they're subtracting 99 from
00.
The result: On some loans, nothing
is being charged; on others 99 years of interest is being charged.
The bank's managers confer and decide
to keep a lid on the problem while they try to fix it. If they can't correct
the error, the bank will lose its major source of income and could fail
in a matter of weeks.
6:00 a.m. EST - General Motors Plant
A, Detroit. Managers send workers home. The production line isn't functioning.
Despite $500 million spent to make
all GM factories and labs Year 2000 compliant, half the robotic devices
at the plant won't turn on and there are problems with the computerized
metal cutters.
There's word that another plant didn't
open because no one could get inside - the dreaded 00 sent security systems
haywire.
GM officials confide they anticipate
computer-related problems with shipment of parts and materials in the weeks
ahead - and that 1999 models may have to remain on the showroom floor for
the foreseeable future. UAW leaders are bracing for a new round of layoffs.
9:00 a.m. - Bloomingdale's, Manhattan.
Credit department staffers breathe a collective sigh of relief. For years
there had been rumors that anything purchased with a credit card during
the final three days of 1999 would not be recorded. The prospect of freebies
had triggered a wild weekend-long buying binge at the store.
The rumors proved unfounded - the store's
computers recorded every purchase.
Staffers in other departments of the
store are fuming. An expected shipment of expensive leather handbags -
advertised in Sunday newspapers - hasn't arrived and the phones in Sao
Paolo aren't working.
Also overdue is a shipment of dresses
from India. According to the latest computerized delivery notice, they
won't be delivered for another century.
9:30 a.m. - A & P, Great Neck,
L.I. The manager is being bombarded with complaints - there's no 2% milk,
no tomatoes, fresh bread or chicken legs. The ground chuck looks old and
brown and the oranges look old and moldy.
"What's this, downtown Moscow?"
snaps one housewife.
The frazzled manager posts a notice
about delivery delays caused by the millennium bug.
10:00 a.m. - Federal Aviation Administration
headquarters, Washington, D.C. Faced with lengthy flight delays at most
airports in the United States because of computer malfunctions, the FAA
announces all major air carriers have agreed to a voluntary 25 percent
cutback in services until the computer glitches are corrected.
10:10 a.m. - White House. President-elect
Gore, flanked by Fed Chairman Alan Greenspan, announces that trading on
most exchanges will be suspended for the rest of the week.
He explains that while American banks
have had "relatively minor problems" with the Year 2000 bug,
financial institutions in Europe, Asia and Latin America are experiencing
"disruptions" that " could have a "ripple effect"
here.
Greenspan announces new steps to expand
the money supply to help U.S. banks cope with global problems. That means
a quarter-percent hike in the prime rate.
10:30 a.m. - Wall Street. The nation's
leading economists hold an emergency meeting to discuss global millennium
problems and their impact on the U.S. economy.
Edward Yardeni of Deutsche, Morgan,
Greenfell predicts that we face a recession that will rank "somewhere
close" to the 1974-1975 downturn, which was the second-worst economic
slump since World War II when unemployment reached 8.5 percent.
11 a.m. - MGM-Grand, Las Vegas. Grim
casino managers meet to discuss the news that the major airlines are cutting
flights by 25 percent. They're dismayed because 76 percent of the people
in town at any given time have flown in. Business is going to be down,
way down.
12 p.m. - Saatchi & Saatchi offices,
Manhattan. Notices are sent to all ad agency staffers to advise them that
many of them won't be paid for a while.
The notice explains that weekly paychecks
sent to employees' direct deposit accounts aren't being recorded because
the computer company hired to make the company's software Year 2000 compliant
didn't get the job done in time.
It's expected to take at least two
weeks to find and fix the problem and credit employee accounts.
1:00 p.m. - Poplar Street, Hackensack,
N.J. Surprise, surprise. The mail arrives on time.
A 90-year-old great-grandmother gets
a notice from the local school district that it's time to enroll in kindergarten.
Down the street a new mother gets a
Social Security check for her month-old child.
3:00 p.m. - Jones & Jones, Manhattan.
Partners of this Wall Street law firm hold a planning session to discuss
pending Year 2000 litigation involving their clients. Members of Congress
have estimated the problems caused by the 2000 bug will result in a trillion
dollars worth of litigation - and they want a share.
5:00 p.m. - Saatchi & Saatchi.
Some frustrated employees get slammed again. Those who drove cars to work
are stunned when they put their receipts into the automated machines at
their parking garage and find they're being charged for parking for 100
years and a day.