How to Enable Two-Step Verification
(A Patient Guide for Those of Us Who've Seen 100 Years of Change)
Well, dear, pull up your chair and let me tell you something. I was born when people sent messages by telegram, and now I carry a glowing rectangle in my cardigan pocket that can talk to my granddaughter in Australia. If I can live through that much change, I can certainly learn one new trick. That trick is called two-step verification, and it's going to keep the rascals out of your accounts.
First, What in the World Is It?
Let me explain it the way I understand it.
Imagine your house. Your password is the keys to the front door. Now, these days there are pickpockets and con artists (they call them "hackers," but I call them what they are: thieves) who can copy your key without you ever knowing.
Two-step verification means adding a second lock on that door. A special lock. Even if a thief has your key, the second lock won't open unless you have something only you possess — like a secret code that gets sent to your telephone, or a tap on a little app.
So: Something you know (your password) plus something you have (your phone). That's two steps. That's all it is.
Why Should I Bother? I've Lived a Century Already!
Because, my friend, the thieves don't care how old we are. They'll steal from a 25-year-old or a 100-year-old just the same. With two-step verification:
- A thief who guesses your password still can't get in.
- You'll get a notice on your phone if anyone tries, so you'll know something is afoot.
- You can do it yourself in about ten minutes, which is less time than it takes me to butter my toast.
Before We Begin: Gather These Things
- Your spectacles. The print on these telephones is terribly small, even after a century of complaining about it.
- Your telephone (the cellular one, dear, not the one on the wall — though honestly, I miss that one).
- A pen and paper. Write things down. That has never gone out of style since the Egyptians.
- A cup of tea. This is important. Do not skip the tea.
- A grandchild or neighbor, optional. Though I shall prove we don't need one.
Now Then, Step by Step (and I Mean Gently)
I'll describe it the general way. Your particular telephone may look a touch different, but the idea is the same.
Step 1. Open the place where your account lives — perhaps Google, or your bank, or that Facebook where everyone posts photographs of their suppers. Look for the little wheel ⚙️ or the word "Settings." Settings is where all the knobs and dials are.
Step 2. Find the words "Security" or "Password & Security" or "Sign-in & Security." It's usually behind a little picture of a shield or a padlock. Follow the padlock, dear. The padlock never lies.
Step 3. Look for "Two-Step Verification" or "Two-Factor Authentication." (Two names for the same thing — honestly, they do love inventing new words.) There will be a button that says "Turn On" or "Enable." Press it. Nothing will explode. I checked.
Step 4. The machine will ask for your telephone number. Type it in carefully. Then it will send you a code — a short string of numbers — by text message, like a telegram arriving in seconds instead of days. When I was young, that would have been called a miracle.
Step 5. Type the code back into the screen. This proves the telephone is really yours.
Step 6. Here is the most important part, so lean in: the screen may offer you backup codes. Say yes. Write them down on your paper, and put that paper somewhere sensible — I keep mine in my Bible, between Ruth and 1 Samuel, because no burglar in the world is going to look there.
These codes are your spare key, in case your telephone is lost, broken, or sitting in the other cardigan.
Step 7. You're done. Put the kettle on. You've just done something most people half your age haven't bothered to do.
A Few Warnings From Someone Who's Earned the Right to Give Them
- Never give your code to anyone who calls you. Not the bank, not the government, not a polite young man saying he's "from Microsoft." I have been alive for one hundred years; I can smell a swindle at forty paces. The code is for you and your screen only.
- If a code arrives when you weren't asking for one, that means a thief is pawing at your door. Don't share it, and tell someone you trust. The second lock just did its job.
- Keep your telephone charged. A dead telephone is a locked spare key.
- Write things down, but hide them well. Under the mattress is clever. Taped beneath a drawer is cleverer.
Now, About All Those Other Accounts...
Once you've done this with one account, do it with the important ones: your email first of all (that's the master key to everything, apparently), then your bank, then your photographs and messages account. One per day, with your morning tea. In a week you'll be more secure than Fort Knox, and you'll have had seven cups of tea besides.
A Final Thought
You know, I've used a rotary phone, a party line, a telegram, a fax machine, and now this little glowing slate that knows the weather in Boise. Every single time, I thought, "This is too much newness for me." And every single time, I learned it — slowly, grumpily, and successfully.
Two-step verification is just a second lock on the door. You've locked doors for a hundred years, dear. This is simply one more, and it's the strongest one yet.
Now finish your tea before it goes cold. That's the one thing technology still hasn't fixed.
— Written at the kitchen table, with the good pen, by somebody who remembers when "the cloud" was just weather.