Heteroscedasticity – now there’s a word you don’t see very often (thanks to Rosco Paterson for kindly plonking it in my path). Which is a pity, because it’s a particularly useful concept that might help us crack several longstanding cipher mysteries.

The idea behind it is not too far from the old joke about the statistician with his feet in the oven and his head in the fridge, who – on average – felt very comfortable. A set of numbers is heteroscedastic if it simultaneously contains different (‘hetero-’) subgroups such that (for example) their average value falls between the groups. As a result, looking to that average for enlightenment as to the nature of those two separate subgroups is probably not going to do you much good.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, it turns out that a lot of statistical properties implicitly rely on the data to be analyzed not having this property. That is, for data with multiple modes or states, the consequent heteroscedasticity is likely to mess up your statistical reasoning. Though you’ll still get plausible-looking results, there’s a high chance they’ll be of no practical use. So for cipher systems in general, any hint of multimodality should be a heteroscedastic alarm bell, a warning that your statistical toolbox may be as much use as a wet fish for tightening a bolt.

Plenty of Voynich Manuscript (‘VMs’) researchers will be sagely nodding their heads at this point, because they know all too well that the plethora of statistical analyses performed so far on it has failed to yield much of consequence. Could this be because its ‘Voynichese’ text heteroscedastically ‘hops’ between states? Cipher Mysteries regulars will know I’ve long suspected there’s some kind of state machine at play, but I’ve yet to see any full-on analysis of the VMs with this in mind.

Historically, the first proper ciphering state machine was Alberti’s 1465 cipher disk. He placed one alphabet on a stator (a static disk) and another on a rotor (a rotating disk), rotating the latter according to some system pre-agreed between encipherer and decipherer, e.g. rotating it after every couple of words, or after every vowel, etc.

Even if you don’t happen to buy in to my Averlino hypothesis (but don’t worry if you don’t, it’s not mandatory here), 1465 isn’t hugely far from the Voynich Manuscript’s vellum radiocarbon dating. It could well be that state machine cryptography was in the air: perhaps Alberti was building on an earlier, more experimental cipher he had heard of, but with an overtly Florentine, Brunelleschian clockwork gadget twist.

As an aside, there are plenty of intellectual historians who have suggested that the roots of Alberti’s cipher disk lie (for example) in Ramon Llull’s circular diagrams and conceptual machines: in a way, one might argue that all Alberti did was collide Llull’s stuff with the more hands-on Quattrocento Florentine machine-building tradition, and say “Ta-da!” 🙂

All the same, we do know that the Voynich Manuscript’s cipher is not an Albertian polyalphabetic cipher: but if it is multimodal, how should we look for evidence of it?

A few years ago when my friend Glen Claston was laboriously making his own transcription of the VMs, he loosely noticed that certain groups of symbols and even words seemed to phase in and out, as if there was a higher-level structure underlying its text. Was he glimpsing raw heteroscedasticity, arising from some kind of state machine clustering? For now this is just his cryptological instinct, not a rigorous proof: and it is entirely true he may have been influenced by the structure of Leonell Strong’s claimed decryption (which introduced a new cipher alphabet every few lines). Despite all that, I’m happy to take his observation at face value: and that Voynichese may well be built around a higher-level internal state structure that readily confounds our statistical cryptanalyses.

So, the big question here is whether it is possible to design tests to explicitly detect multimodality ‘blind’. The problem is that even though this is done a lot in econometrics (there was even a Nobel Prize for Economics awarded for work to do with heteroscedasticity), economic time series are surely quite a different kettle of monkeys to ciphertexts. Perhaps there’s a whole cryptanalytical literature on detecting heteroscedasticity, please leave a comment here if you happen to know of this!

I don’t know what the answer to all this is: it’s something I’ve been thinking about for a while, without really being able to resolve to my own satisfaction. Make of it what you will!

At the same time, there’s also a spooky echo with the Zodiac Killer’s Z340 cipher here. I recently wrote some code to test for the presence of homophone cycles in Z340, and from the results I got I strongly suspect that its top half employs quite a different cipher to the bottom – the homophone cycles my code suggested for the two halves were extremely different.

Hence it could well be that most statistical analyses of Z340 done to date have failed to produce useful results because of the confoundingly heteroscedastic shadow cast by merging (for example) two distinct halves into a single ciphertext. How could we definitively test whether Z340 is formed of two halves? Something else to think about! 🙂

One of the nice things about the unsolved Z340 Zodiac Killer cipher is that we have a previous solved cipher by the same encipherer (i.e. the Z408 cipher), which appears to exhibit many of the same properties as the Z340. Hence, if we could forensically reconstruct how Z408 was constructed (i.e. its cryptographic methodology), we might also gain valuable insights into how the later Z340 was constructed.

One interesting feature of the (solved) Z408 is that even though it is a homophonic substitution cipher (which is to say that several different shapes are used for various plaintext letters), the shape selection is often far from random. In fact, in quite a few instances Z408 shapes appear in a strict cycle, which has led to some recent attempts to crack Z340 by trying (unsuccessfully) to infer homophone cycles.

Curiously, one of the shapes (filled triangle) appears to encipher both A and S: and if you extract all these out, a homophone-cycle-like ASASASAS sequence appears. This intrigued me, so I decided to look at it a little closer: might this somehow be a second layer of cycling?

The answer (I’m now pretty sure) turns out to be no, though it’s still interesting in its own right. Basically, the Zodiac seems to have got confused between dotted triangle (for S) and filled triangle (for A), which caused his cycles to break down. He also miscopied an F-shape as an E-shape: perhaps his working draft wasn’t quite as neat as his final copy, and/or written in felt tip, causing letter shapes to soak into the paper and become slightly less distinct.

If we correct these mistakes and reconstruct what he seems to have intended, we see that he was following a fairly strict cycle most of the time, though getting less ordered towards the end (perhaps from enciphering nausea?):-

A: length-4 homophone cycle = (1) F – (2) dotted square – (3) K – (4) dotted triangle
–> 12341234123413234124211
—-> 16 decisions out of 22 follow the cycle pattern

S: length-4 homophone cycle = (1) 6 – (2) S – (3) reversed L – (4) filled triangle
–> 1241234123412341231412
—-> 18 decisions out of 21 follow the cycle pattern

L is interesting because though that seems to start out as a length-2 homophone cycle [diagonal square – B], the diagonal square then seems to morph into a filled square and then back again to a diagonal square. Hence there’s no obvious sign of an actual length-3 homophone cycle as such, only a miscopied length-2 cycle (which then breaks down halfway through, with four diagonal squares in a row).

Yet even though the Zodiac loves words containing LL (kill, thrill, will, all, etc), he only actually seems to be using a length-2 homophone cycle for L (if slightly miscopied). That is, he is probably using a generalized model of English letter frequency distribution rather than a particular model of his own English letter frequency distribution.

The odd thing is that if you go through Dave Oranchak’s list of Z408 homophone sequences, you’ll see that it doesn’t quite match the traditional “ETAOINSHRDLU” frequency ordering (I count L as length-2):
* Length-7: E
* Length-4: TAOINS
* Length-3: R
* Length-2: LHFD

Was there an American amateur cryptography book of the 1950s or 1960s that espoused this frequency distribution?

Here’s a nice story that should bring heart to researchers struggling with uncracked homophonic ciphers (e.g. Zodiac Killer Ciphers, Beale Papers, etc). Kevin Knight, who Voynich Manuscript researchers may remember from various posts here, has now co-authored a 2011 paper with Beáta Megyesi and Christiane Schaefer from Uppsala University on how they cracked a hitherto unknown (to me, at least) 105-page ciphertext dated 1866 they call the Copiale Cipher.

Slightly unhelpfully, the authors refer only to the manuscript as having come “from the East Berlin Academy”: in fact, as far back as 1992/1993 the East Berlin Academy of Arts and the West Berlin Academy were merged into a single Academy of Arts, Berlin (i.e. the Akademie der Künste). I searched the Akademie’s archives to see if I could find the source but only managed to find one plausible-sounding hit:-

Record group: Döhl – Reinhard-Döhl-Archiv
Classification group: 6.1. Fremde Manuskripte
Lauf. Nummer: 3625
Dat. => Findbuch: o.O., o.D.
Titel: [ohne Verfasser]: die sentenzen verschlüsselter deutbarkeit […]

Perhaps someone with better German and more persistence than me will find the actual manuscript reference.

Anyway, Knight/Megyesi/Schaefer give a nice account of how they went about analysing the neatly-written ciphertext, the various hypotheses they came up with along the way, and how they finally managed to decrypt it (though admittedly they initially only transcribed 16 pages), apart from eight mysterious logograms (i.e. an eight-entry nomenclator “for (doubly secret) people and organizations”). Here’s their translation of the first few lines, which make it quite clear what kind of a book it is:-

First lawbook
of the [1] e [2]
Secret part.
First section
Secret teachings for apprentices.
First title.
Initiation rite.
If the safety of the [3] is guaranteed, and the [3] is
opened by the chief [4], by putting on his hat, the
candidate is fetched from another room by the
younger doorman and by the hand is led in and to the
table of the chief [4], who asks him:
First, if he desires to become [1].
Secondly, if he submits to the rules of the [2] and
without rebelliousness suffer through the time of
apprenticeship.
Thirdly, be silent about the [5] of the [2] and
furthermore be willing to offer himself to volunteer
in the most committed way.
The candidate answers yes.

The interesting thing about the date is that it predates the 1887 founding of the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn by 20 years or so: and many (if not most?) regular Cipher Mysteries readers will recall that that was founded with a (quite different) mysterious cipher document allegedly referring to a certain “Fraulein Anna Sprengler” mentioned in the enciphered text. By way of comparison, Aleister Crowley’s favourite Ordo Templi Orientis was founded only in 1895 or thereabouts.

Hence the really big question about this enciphered document is whether there is any connection (perhaps even Anna Sprengler) between it and the Golden Dawn Ciphers. The answer may well lie in the 89 pages as yet untranscribed by K/M/S… hopefully we shall see!

Update: since writing this, I found that K/M/S have put up a detailed web-page including scans, transcriptions, and English translations of the whole 105 pages. Codicologically, they say it is “beautifully bound in green and gold brocade paper, written on high quality paper with two different watermarks [and] can be dated back to 1760-1780.”

They also note that they think it is a document of an “18th century secret society, namely the “oculist order”. A parallel manuscript is located at the Niedersächsisches Landesarchiv, Staatsarchiv Wolfenbüttel.” Which of course rules Fraulein Sprengler out. 🙂

To be honest, the part in the ceremony described where they pluck a hair from the eyebrow of the initiate reminds me not a little of the Simpsons’ Stonecutters episode (“Who holds back the electric car? Who makes Steve Gutenberg a star? We do! We do!”), but perhaps let’s not dwell on that too much… 🙂

A quick apology to Cipher Mysteries email subscribers: some illegal text characters (now fixed) that accidentally sneaked into a recent post caused Feedburner (the Google service I use to email posts to you) to go all huffy for a few days. Hence I’m very sorry to say that you’ve missed out on three recent updates to the site.

They were (in chronological order):
(1) Harvard Professor nearly wades into Voynich swamp…discusses an upcoming lecture at Cambridge University on various Slavic mystery documents and John Stojko’s Voynich theory.
(2) Voynich fruitiness back in season…discusses two recent fruity Voynich theories that popped up on the Internet, one linking the VMs with Jewish pharmaceutical conspiracies, the other with the coelacanth (yes, really!).
(3) Decent 2010 paper on the Zodiac Killer Ciphersdiscusses a paper by two Norwegian academics searching for homophone cycles in the uncracked Z340 Zodiac Killer cipher.

Feel free to click through and have a look at them, they were all good posts, well worth a read. Enjoy! 🙂

Here’s some more on the Zodiac Killer ciphers, specifically the interesting uncracked one (“Z340”). Though most of the images of this on the Internet are both monochrome and somewhat overexposed, here’s a link to a nice image of Z340 at a high-enough resolution to be useful. Thanks to this, I think you can see that the correction on row 6 is from a ‘right-facing K’ to a ‘left-facing K’, which could well be a copying error from an intermediate draft.

What’s more, it allows us to transcribe the ciphertext with a high degree of confidence that we’ve got it right: so here’s the transcription that Dave Oranchak and glurk use, which should be more than good enough for non-Zodiac experts wanting to play with it too:-

HER>pl^VPk|1LTG2d
Np+B(#O%DWY.<*Kf)
By:cM+UZGW()L#zHJ
Spp7^l8*V3pO++RK2
_9M+ztjd|5FP+&4k/
p8R^FlO-*dCkF>2D(
#5+Kq%;2UcXGV.zL|
(G2Jfj#O+_NYz+@L9
d<M+b+ZR2FBcyA64K
-zlUV+^J+Op7<FBy-
U+R/5tE|DYBpbTMKO
2<clRJ|*5T4M.+&BF
z69Sy#+N|5FBc(;8R
lGFN^f524b.cV4t++
yBX1*:49CE>VUZ5-+
|c.3zBK(Op^.fMqG2
RcT+L16C<+FlWB|)L
++)WCzWcPOSHT/()p
|FkdW<7tB_YOB*-Cc
>MDHNpkSzZO8A|K;+

OK, today’s thought follows on from my most recent Zodiac Killer post, which wondered to what degree cryptologists could make use of the likely presence in Z340 of broadly the same kind of homophone cycles present in the earlier Z408 ciphertext. Well blow me down if I didn’t just run into exactly that today, a paper by Håvard Raddum, Marek Sýs called “The zodiac killer ciphers” published in Tatra Mountains Maths Publ. 45 (2010), pp.75–91: the fulltext is freely downloadable here. There’s an earlier (slightly less formal) 2009 presentation here.

The two authors found evidence of low-level (i.e. length = 2 or 3) homophone cycle structure in the Z340 but not in its transposed version, which is a good indication that the cipher itself isn’t (diagonally) transposed. However, having myself written codes to look for homophone cycles in Z340, I think their assumption that it is a single homogenous cipher is not really justified: they would have got much more striking values had they divided it into two.

Really, the challenge with searching for homophone cycles in Z340 that they failed to address is that the statistical significance of the length 2 or length 3 homophone cycles they found is relatively low compared with the Z408 cipher. How many standard deviations are these actually away from the centre of the distribution? The biggest statistical problem with searching for best homophone cycles is that you have a lot to choose from, which I believe reduces the statistical significance of any you do happen to find. It’s a kind of statistical “darts paradox”: hitting the bullseye once in a million throws doesn’t suddenly make you a great darts player.

Still, they build up a lot of theoretical machinery (though I somehow doubt that you can reliably build n-cycles out of (n-1)-cycles given the many deviations from the cycle scheme the Zodiac Killer makes), which may well prove useful. Definitely something to ponder on.

As I mentioned here and indeed here a few days ago, my usually-Early-Renaissance-focused thoughts have of late been turning slowly to the Zodiac Killer Ciphers, in particular to the unsolved 340-character cipher known as “Z340”. Unusually as cipher mysteries go, we also have an earlier cipher called “Z408” (no prizes for guessing its length) by the same person, one that was quickly cracked (using the crib “KILL”). Z408 turned out to be a homophonic simple substitution cipher (but with spelling mistakes, copying mistakes, and a few subtly odd features); and there are plenty of good reasons to think that Z340 will share many of these same basic aspects (but made somewhat harder to crack).

Even though it was originally a crib which helped to crack it, Z408 has other weaknesses, most notably the way it sequentially cycles through homophones (“multiple ciphertext shapes for the same plaintext character”). For example, plaintext ‘t’ maps to the four ciphertext homophones HI5L, and appears in the text as the sequence HI5LHI5ILHI5LHI5LHI5LHI5LI5LHL5IIHI. If you count each successful letter-to-letter transition matching the modulo-4 sequence [HI5L] as a 0.25 success event (=26) and each non-match (=8) as a 0.75 failure event, I believe you get a raw probability of less than 1 in a billion (i.e. of at least 26 successes from 34 events). Please check my maths, though – I used this online binomial calculator with N = 35-1, k = 26, p = 0.25, q = 0.75. For more on these homophone sequences, Zodiac ciphermeister Dave Oranchak kindly pointed me at a full list of Z408 homophone sequences.

Incidentally, the top few match counts are:-
e -> ZpW+6NE – N = 54-1, k = 38
t -> HI5L – N = 35-1, k = 26
s -> F@K7 – N = 20-1, k = 15
o -> X!Td – N = 27-1, k = 13
n -> O^D( – N = 23-1, k = 20
i -> 9PUk – N = 44-1, k = 35
a -> GSl8 – N = 26-1, k = 10

It would be great to tell you how statistically significant these sequences are, but I know enough stats to know that it’s not quite as easy as it looks (for a start, we’re preselecting the best order of letters to use) – any passing statisticians, please feel free to leave a comment. I’m also quite surprised that nobody has apparently tried to use this weakness as a direct way to find the Z340 cipher’s homophones (in fact, John Graham-Cumming also blogged about this in June this year), but – as I’ll show shortly – I suspect trying just that on its own wouldn’t be enough.

Taking a brief step sideways, I’m always intrigued by mistakes in ciphers, because these often point to how the cipher was constructed. One interesting feature (but which I’m still trying to understand to my own satisfaction) is the solid triangle cipher shape in Z408, and how it appears to encipher different letters at different times. The view often put forward elsewhere is that this varied due to copying errors, perhaps arising because the Zodiac Killer’s pen was too thick, causing him to misread his draft version. As for me, I’m not so sure, because the solid triangle decrypts to a curious sequence:-
* “A” in “bec-A-use”
* “S” in “mo-S-t dangerous”
* “A” in “an-A-mal”
* “S” in “mo-S-t thrilling”
* “A” in “with -A- girl”
* “S” in “if it i-S-”
* “E” in “my slav-E-s”
* “A” in “my -A-fterlife”

Of these, only the “A” in “an-A-mal” is possibly a copying error (“I” is enciphered by an empty triangle shape) as compared to just a spelling mistake (the Zodiac Killer has plenty of those). But even that seems a little unlikely when the whole ASASAS[E]A pattern that emerges – so very similar to the homophonic sequences discussed above – is pointed out. I haven’t yet figured out what this implies, but it’s pretty interesting, right?

Moving on to the uncracked Z340 cipher, I have to say that what strikes me most is the difference between its top half (lines 1-10) and its bottom half (lines 11-20). It turns out that back in 2009, FBI codebreaker Dan Olson pointed out to Tom at zodiackiller.com that lines 1-3 and 11-13 contained very few repeats: other people have wondered whether this points to some kind of block-level transposition going on. Me, I suspect there’s a far stronger inference to be made: that even though they share nearly all the same character shapes, I’m pretty sure that the top and bottom halves of Z340 use completely different cipher letter assignments, and hence may well need to be cracked independently. Further, I suspect that the Zodiac may well have intended to send them out separately (Z408 was sent as three independent sections), but (for some reason) ended up sending them both as a single cipher.

[Incidentally, I also don’t believe that the last few letters of the bottom half of Z340 are genuinely part of the ciphertext to be cracked: they seem to spell “ZODAIK”, which is just a touch too coincidental for me. 🙂 ]

Right now, I think that a constructive first big step would be to search for statistically significant homophone sequences in the top and bottom halves of Z340, because we can be reasonably sure that the most frequent letters will probably have four or more homophones, just as with the Z408 cipher: trying this out may well yield some surprisingly revealing results. Any takers at the FBI? 😉

Of late, I’ve been gradually getting into the whole culture surrounding the Zodiac Killer cipher. One pretty good source of information is ZodiacKiller.com, where to my great surprise I found a link to a November 2007 Daily Star article (how did I ever miss this?), claiming that troubled dance-pop queen Britney Spears was heavily into the whole Zodiac Killer mystery, and “is convinced she can crack the case as many people believe the culprit is still alive”.

Like, ummm, wowza.

If this Daily Star story is indeed true (hint: the answer’s probably in the question), then what’s next? Justin Timberlake retaliating by publishing a critical monograph on Le Livre Des Sauvages? Madonna announcing her own transcription of the Rohonc Codex? Or – possibly most likely – Christina Aguilera actually solving the Tamam Shud mystery but still selling fewer tour tickets than Britney?

Watch this space, cipher mystery pop funsters…

A certain Corey Starliper of Tewksbury, Mass claimed last month (July 2011) to have finally solved the famous-but-uncracked “340” (i.e. 340-glyph long) message sent in 1969 to the San Francisco Chronicle by the Zodiac Killer. Bless ‘im, but his so-called solution boils down to opportunistically choosing between multiple Caesar shifts, while modifying words and adding in extra ones where it all goes a bit Pete Tong.

Hence it should be no great surprise to most Cipher Mysteries readers that, however sincerely Mr Starliper believes his solution to be correct, I’m sure it’s basically a crock. However, the best thing about it is that it inspired Dave Oranchuk to post up a nice page demolishing it (though I personally wouldn’t call it a “hoax”, but rather a fairly typical example of the kind of self-convincing non-cryptology we’ve all seen countless times).

I don’t normally post on the Zodiac Killer ciphers (I’m more of a Renaissance guy myself), but plenty of people do find it interesting: to me, it has a home-grown 2d transposition feel to it, a bit like a lo-tech d’Agapeyeff cipher. Incidentally, I rather like Dave Oranchuk’s Zodiac webtoy, which lets you try out all kinds of crypto toolbox stuff on it (and indeed on various other ciphers). Enjoy! 🙂

I’m getting a bit cheesed off with the Internet: every time I do a search for anything Cipher Mysteries-ish, it seems that half Google’s hits are for ghastly sites listing “Top 10 Unsolved Mysteries” or “10 Most Bizarre Uncracked Codes“. Still, perhaps I should be more grateful to the GooglePlex that I’m not getting “Top 10 Paris Hilton Modesty Tips” and its tawdry ilk.

Realistically, there is only one uncracked code/cipher listing on the web from which all the rest get cut-and-pasted: Elonka’s list of famous unsolved codes and ciphers. But Elonka Dunin has long since moved on (coincidentally, she went from cryptography into computer game production at about the same time that I made the reverse journey), which is perhaps why all of these lists look a bit dated. Perhaps I should do my own list soon (maybe, if I had the time).

Happily, Elonka did manage to nail most of the usual suspects: the Beale Papers, the Voynich Manuscript, Dorabella, Zodiac Killer, d’Agapeyeff, Phaistos Disk, and so on… each typically a piece of ciphertext which we would like to decipher in order to crack a historical mystery. However, one of the items on her list stands out as something of an exception.

For John F. Byrne’s 1918 “Chaocipher”, we have a description of his device (the prototype fitted in a cigar box, and allegedly contained two wheels with scrambled letters), and a fair few examples of both Chaocipher ciphertext and the matching plaintext. So, the mystery isn’t so much a whodunnit as a howdunnit. Though a small number of people are in on the secret mechanism (Lou Kruh, for one), Byrne himself is long dead: and the details of how his box of tricks worked have never been released into the public domain.

Was Byrne’s Chaocipher truly as unbreakable as he believed, or was it no more than the grand delusion of an inspired cryptographic outsider? This, really, is the mystery here – the everything-or-nothing “hero-or-zero” dramatic tension that makes it a good story. Yet hardly anybody knows about it: whereas “Voynich” gets 242,000 hits, “Chaocipher” only merits 546 hits (i.e. 0.0022% as much).

Well, now you know as well: and if you want to know a little more about its cryptography, I’ve added a Chaocipher page here. But the real site to go to is Moshe Rubin’s “The Chaocipher Clearing House“, which is so new that even Google hasn’t yet found it (Moshe emailed me to tell me about it, thanks!) Exemplary, fascinating, splendid – highly recommended. 🙂

OK, enough of the raw factuality, time for the obligatory historical riff. 🙂

I’m struck by the parallels between John Byrne’s device and Leon Battista Alberti’s cipher wheel. Both men seem to have caught the leading edge of a wave and tried to harness its power for cryptography, and made high-falutin’ claims as to their respective cipher systems’ unbreakability: whereas Alberti’s wave was mathematical abstraction, Byrne’s wave was (very probably) algorithmic computing.

Circa 1920, this was very much in the air: when J. Lyons & Co. hired the mathematician J.R.M. Simmons in 1923, the company was thinking about machines, systems, and operational management: mathematical calculators were absolutely de rigeur for them. The first Enigma machines were constructed in the early 1920s (and used in a commercial environment), and there were doubtless many other broadly similar machines being invented at the same time.

Do I think that there was anything unbreakable in Byrne’s box? No, not really: the real magic in there was most likely a programmatic mindset that was cutting-edge in 1918, but might well look somewhat simplistic nearly a century later. But I could be wrong! 😉

A few days ago, chess-playing crypto guy Tony Gaffney emailed Cipher Mysteries about “The Subtelty Of Witches” in the British Library: I also blogged about his attempted solution to the Dorabella Cipher and the (not-very-)Ancient Cryptography forum where he often posts on historical ciphers. Since then, the copy of his 2005 book “The Agony Column Codes & Ciphers” (which he wrote under the byline “Jean Palmer”) I ordered has arrived… but is it any good?

(Incidentally, “agony columns”  in Victorian newspapers were originally for readers to post personal announcements and messages about/for missing friends and relatives: while “advice columns” (which became popular in the 1950s) were actually a continuation of an eighteenth century newspaper feature known as “letters to the lovelorn“, as well as the advice column in popular magazine “The Lady’s Monthly Museum”. All of which means that the phrase “agony aunt” is a kind of uneasy linguistic marriage between two quite different types of newspaper column.)

People liked the ability to leave messages in agony columns: but some,  wishing to remain anonymous, submitted their messages in code, in cipher, or in some other cryptic manner. Tony’s book collects together 1000 of these (simultaneously public and private) messages.

On the one hand, I can well appreciate the compositional agony of transcribing so many ciphertexts (which themselves may well have been scrambled by harried typesetters) and then trying to decipher them (which may not always be possible). I can also appreciate that a collection of these could well offer a nice commuter alternative to the sheer maddening pointlessness of Sudoku (oh look, all the numbers add up… and here’s my station).

On the other hand, who (apart from cipher history junkies such as me) would really connect with the content of such a project? Stripped of background, context, and outcome, the results are – if you go through your own agony of deciphering them – typically no more than fleeting half-scenes from lost Victorian soap operas, full of thwarted & hopeful love and clandestine meetings.

Structurally, the book comprises a series of dated cipher fragments sorted into chapters according to the newspaper in which they appeared (The Times, The Morning Chronicle/Observer, etc) and sorted by date, with a cipher key listed at the end for most (but not all) of the enciphered ones. All very logical and sequential as a reference work: but does it really work as a piece of cipher solving entertainment?

With my historical cryptography hat on, I’d say yes: the reader is presented with a cleaned up set of cipher transcriptions, with exactly as much information as a curious newspaper reader of the day would have had. It’s straightforward and clear, a nice little slice of cipher history.

But with my publisher hat on, I’d say no: as an editor, I would have discarded the merely cryptic, and rearranged the same material as a series of enciphered threads graded by difficulty, so that a commuter could engage with it as if it were a cipher puzzle-book. I’d also have opted for a larger page size, and included pre-printed solving grids and a sorted frequency count for all monoalphabetic ciphers.

(A fine example of this kind of cipher puzzle book is Elonka Dunin’s (2006) “The Mammoth Book of Secret Codes and Cryptograms”, which also briefly describes the Voynich Manuscript on pp. 489-493, as well as the Beale Papers, the Dorabella Cipher, the Zodiac Ciphers, and the Phaistos Disk).

I would also have moved all the (currently) unsolved ciphers to an end chapter, together with brief failed solving notes.

On balance, then, I’d say that the cipher historian side of me enjoyed the book, but the cipher puzzler side of me felt frustrated by its structure. However, because I would guess that cipher puzzlers outnumber cipher historians 100:1, perhaps it might be an idea for Tony to revisit this project, to Elonka-ify it?