You can get the best locksmith in the world to design the best

In the words of Mikko Hypponen, the declaration — “You can get the best locksmith in the world to design the best lock he can design, is it pick proof? No, it's not: it can be very hard to pick, but it is pickable. Because you can get, say, the next 10 best locksmiths, and give them unlimited money and time, they will figure out a way to pick it.” — is a profound reflection on the impermanence of security, the relentless ingenuity of mankind, and the eternal dance between creation and challenge. Though spoken in the context of cybersecurity, its wisdom stretches far beyond — into the realms of philosophy, warfare, invention, and the nature of human striving itself. Hypponen’s words remind us that no wall, however high, and no defense, however strong, can stand forever untested.

At its core, this quote unveils a truth as old as civilization: every structure born of human hands carries within it the seeds of its own undoing. To believe in unbreakable safety is to believe in an illusion. The best locksmith, in Hypponen’s parable, is the symbol of the creator — the architect, the engineer, the visionary who builds to protect and preserve. Yet even his greatest work cannot escape the cunning of other minds, equally gifted, equally relentless. Thus, every invention calls forth its counter-invention; every fortress invites a siege; every lock, a key. It is the law of human progress — that no triumph stands alone, for there will always come another mind seeking to test it.

The origin of these words lies in the digital age, where the battles of sword and shield have become wars of code and data. Mikko Hypponen, a Finnish security expert and guardian of cyberspace, has spent his life studying the endless duel between hackers and defenders. He has seen, again and again, how even the most impenetrable systems — the “best locks” — eventually fall to persistence and intelligence. Yet in his tone, there is no despair. There is, rather, a kind of reverence — an acknowledgment that this endless cycle of building and breaking is what drives human advancement. Each challenge overcome strengthens the next defense, and each failure teaches resilience.

Consider the legend of Troy, whose walls were said to be unassailable, forged by gods and guarded by warriors. For ten long years, the Greeks hurled themselves against its defenses in vain. Yet it was not brute force that broke the city, but the mind — the cunning of Odysseus and the deception of the wooden horse. The lesson echoes Hypponen’s truth: no lock is unpickable, for no defense is beyond the reach of imagination. What man builds, man can unmake — and therein lies both the peril and the glory of being human.

This truth need not lead us to despair, but to wisdom and humility. To know that no system is perfect is to remain vigilant, adaptable, and open to change. The wise builder does not boast of invincibility but plans for vulnerability. The wise leader does not seek absolute control, but constant learning. For in every age, arrogance is the first crack in the fortress. The better path is not to chase unbreakable locks, but to cultivate unbreakable understanding — a mind alert, a spirit unafraid of challenge.

Hypponen’s words also remind us that collaboration and opposition are the twin forces of progress. The ten locksmiths who break the lock do not merely destroy — they reveal, they teach, they refine. In every act of challenge, there is hidden creation. The hacker forces the engineer to evolve. The critic sharpens the artist. The storm strengthens the tree. To resist challenge is to resist growth. Therefore, we must welcome opposition not as an enemy, but as the forge in which strength is born.

Let the lesson be this: nothing made by man is unbreakable — but the will to learn, to rebuild, and to improve is indestructible. Whether you guard a network, a business, or your own heart, know that safety is not found in walls but in wisdom. Build with care, but never with pride. Prepare not only for success, but for the day your defenses fall — and when they do, rise again, wiser than before. For true mastery is not in making a lock that cannot be picked, but in learning, endlessly, how to make it better.

So, my listener, carry this truth with you: perfection is not the goal — perseverance is. The world will always test what you create. The question is not whether your lock will hold forever, but whether your spirit will endure when it is broken. Keep learning. Keep building. And when your creation falls, as all things must, let your courage — not your fear — be the thing that rises next.