© Brian Kaiser/Bloomberg
Quantum computing has alternated between breakthrough darling and overhyped promise in technology circles. Its powerful new capabilities come with a threat to break current cryptography, but for business leaders navigating the noise, the signal should be clear: post-quantum cryptography (PQC) is a manageable evolution, not a crisis.
The mathematics behind today’s encrypted digital transactions may yield to quantum computers one day, but the transition to quantum-resistant algorithms is neither sudden nor insurmountable. For executives concerned about disruption, cost, or complexity, a structured and phased approach exists with trusted technology partners like Intel that are already beginning to deliver the infrastructure to make it possible.
The “quantum threat” narrative often swings between two extremes: imminent catastrophe or distant irrelevance. The reality occupies a more pragmatic middle ground. Quantum computers are highly specialized accelerators that exploit quantum physics to solve specific hard problems. They have the potential to crack modern encryption, but they will not replace classic servers overnight, nor will they instantly break every encryption protocol on the internet. What they will do is gradually shift the security landscape, much as previous cryptographic transitions have done over the past three decades.
In late 2024, the Global Risk Institute, a Toronto-based financial services think tank, surveyed 32 quantum computing experts on when a quantum computer could break a 2048-bit RSA key within 24 hours. An average of optimistic and pessimistic estimates from the experts gave it an even 50-50 probability of reaching this code-breaking milestone by 2040. This timeline, uncertain but measurable, creates space for deliberate planning rather than emergency reaction. The near-term focus should be on “harvest now, decrypt later” scenarios, where adversaries collect encrypted data today and then hold it for future decryption later when that capability becomes possible. This is particularly applicable for information requiring confidentiality beyond 10 years.
For most enterprises, this can be a manageable risk when addressed through methodical modernization.
The U.S. government has issued new directives for National Security Systems (NSS), which would likely be first on the list for potential quantum attack. Beginning January 2027, CNSSP-15 states new NSS acquisitions must be capable of supporting Commercial National Security Algorithm Suite 2.0 (CNSA 2.0) requirements for PQC algorithms standardized by the National Institute of Standards and Technology (NIST) and selected by the National Security Agency, the U.S. intelligence agency responsible for signals intelligence and information assurance. Implementation for new systems (with certain exceptions) is then required by 2031, with 100% adoption targeted by 2035.
For commercial enterprises, these timelines are not mandates, but could be signposts. They indicate where vendors, standards bodies, and auditors are headed, providing a reference architecture for responsible stewardship. Organizations can borrow this discipline without necessarily copying the exact timelines, using government guidance to calibrate their own risk tolerance and investment cadence.
Intel is at the heart of the AI revolution by delivering quantum-resistant capabilities across our product portfolio. This is not just aspirational roadmap language; it is starting to be shipping technology.
For instance, the Intel Xeon 6 Processor already incorporates quantum-safe memory encryption (AES-256) and microcode signing to protect processor integrity. Upcoming platforms will extend post-quantum algorithms to more firmware and software signing, device interconnects, attestations, and secure boot functions, aligning with the most stringent government and industry directives.
Post-quantum algorithms carry different key sizes and computational overhead than legacy methods. Intel addresses this through dedicated cryptographic accelerators, optimized libraries, and specialized CPU instructions that reduce latency and preserve service-level agreements. Technologies such as Intel QuickAssist Technology offload cryptographic workloads, enabling enterprises to adopt stronger algorithms without sacrificing performance.
PQC is not a processor-alone problem. System builders and application owners must take a comprehensive view spanning solid-state drives, network interface cards, operating systems, hypervisors, applications, and connected services. Intel is delivering its pieces of the stack, while collaborating with ecosystem partners to ensure interoperability and smooth transition paths.
A more in-depth discussion of post-quantum algorithms and attacks can be found in my recent blog posted on Intel’s Community forum: “Post-Quantum Crypto: Panic Like It’s 1999?“
The path forward does not require upheaval, just discipline. Organizations can follow a phased approach that mirrors patterns emerging in government and critical infrastructure sectors:
Quantum computing will reshape cryptography, but despite what occasional click-bait headlines say, it will not upend business overnight. The transition to post-quantum algorithms is a measured, multi-year journey, one that organizations can navigate with confidence by partnering with capable technology providers, prioritizing long-lived data, and designing for agility. Leaders who approach this as an engineering evolution rather than a threat response will not only be ready for whatever timeline quantum delivers; they will emerge with more robust, transparent, and maintainable cryptographic foundations across their platforms.
This content was produced by Intel. It was not written by MIT Technology Review’s editorial staff.
Post-quantum cryptography is now one pip-install away for the entire Python ecosystem. With funding from the Sovereign Tech Agency, we implemented support for ML-KEM, the NIST-standard key-establishment primitive, and ML-DSA, the NIST-standard digital-signature primitive, in pyca/cryptography.
Remember, the reason to do this now is because there’s no emergency. And because you will make your systems crypto agile, which is always a good idea.
Google owes its existence to the open web, but today, its technological “innovations” have much to do with locking users into a “walled garden.” The latest of these is “reCAPTCHA Mobile Verification,” an experimental initiative that will let companies block users if they are running independent, "de-googled" versions of Android. These “indie Android” versions are favored by people who want to protect their privacy and their attention by blocking trackers and ads. Worse, this is just the latest in a line of similarly user-hostile measures.
Long before “agentic AI,” we had the idea that software would act as your agent on the internet. That's why the old-fashioned technical term for a browser is a “user agent.” Your browser acts on your behalf to retrieve information and then show it to you, in the format you choose. It's your agent.
This is a powerful and profound idea. It is because browsers are our “agents” that we expect them to accept our directives, say, by blocking pop-ups, or by turning off autoplay sound, or by blocking commercial surveillance trackers.
Your browser does all that because your browser works for you. The reason your browser can work for you is that the web is an open, standardized technology. In theory, anyone who follows the standards published by the World Wide Web Consortium (W3C) can make a browser, and that web browser can connect to any web server. Browsers and servers are interoperable. It's the same force that means you can put anyone's gas in your gas-tank, or anyone's shoelaces in your shoes, or anyone's milk on your cereal.
But what if manufacturers could dictate those choices to you? What if your light socket refused to use a lightbulb unless it was officially blessed by the socket's manufacturer? What if your dishwasher refused to wash your dishes unless you bought them from one of the manufacturer's “dish partners?” What if your toaster refused to toast “unauthorized bread?”
It's hard to see how a company could win its market with this strategy. After all, if the dishes are really better than the competition's, you'd buy them voluntarily, without any need for law or technology to force the matter. The only reason to make a dishwasher that refuses a rival's dishes is if the manufacturer's own dishes are ugly, expensive, and/or badly made.
But once a company owns the market—once they've achieved dominance by buying out their rivals; by bribing potential competitors to stay out of their lane; and by engaging in deceptive conduct to trap key suppliers and customers—they can cement their dominance by blocking interoperability, keeping out rival dishes, milk, gas, lightbulbs, shoelaces and bread, capturing their whole market and squeezing it.
Once a company owns the market, they can cement their dominance by blocking interoperability.
That's what Google has done, and that's what Google wants to do more of Google's commercial behavior has been so unethical, deceptive and abusive that the company just lost three federal antitrust cases. This thrice-convicted monopolist paid Apple—more than $20b/year— to stay out of the search market: It cheated app vendors, ripping them off with sky-high junk fees and onerous conditions that raised prices while lowering the share of your spending that went to the companies whose products you were paying for. It cheated advertisers, rigging the ad market to gouge businesses on ad prices and underinvesting to fight rampant ad-fraud, sucking hundreds of billions out of the productive economy for overpriced ads that no one saw.
Google wasn't always this way. The “don't be evil” company owes its very existence to the open web ecosystem. When the company started to index the web in 1998, it was playing on an open field, where any web server could talk to any “user agent,” even one whose user was a startup like Google, that was making a copy of every page on the server.
For years, Google thrived on the open web, and built open technologies. Android—the mobile operating system that Google bought in 2005 —was presented as an “open” alternative to existing mobile offerings, and as the mobile market collapsed into two companies—Google and Apple—Google always presented Android as the open alternative to Apple's “walled garden.” But there were always ways in which Google's “open” Android wasn't exactly open. The company engaged in illegal “tying” arrangements that forced hardware vendors and carriers to lock out versions of Android that were created by Google's competitors.
In other words, even though Google offered a mobile platform that was (mostly) technically open, it found other ways to try to choke off the market oxygen for alternative Android versions that tried to capitalize on that technical openness.
But life finds a way. The existence of an open, modifiable, tinkerer-friendly mobile operating system meant Android hackers could create alternatives to Google's (de facto) walled garden, which thrived in the cracks in that garden wall. Operating systems like CalyxOS, PureOS and Graphene offered a more private, more secure Android experience, one that was largely “de-Googled,” blocking Google's relentless acquisition of your private data.
And Google's data-hunger is relentless. Android exfiltrates a chunk of your personal and behavioral data every five minutes. The “resting heartbeat” of Android surveillance pulses and pulses, irrespective of whether you're using your device, and the instant you unlock your screen, that heartbeat quickens, sending even more data to the company. All that data has proven irresistible to authoritarian governments. Donald Trump's enforcers have seized on Google data as a vital source of information about the identity of protesters and the location of migrants hunted by ICE.
So there are plenty of reasons why users would seek out these de-Googled alternatives to Android, finding them in spite of Google's efforts to block access to competing technologies. The worse it got, the better those alternatives looked.
Perhaps this explains Google's years-long effort to increase the technical barriers to using modified versions of Android, beefing these up to match the commercial restrictions that stand in the way of a de-Googled existence.
Back in 2023, Google floated the idea of “Web Environment Integrity” (WEI), a set of modifications to web standards that would force your computer to disclose its operating environment to the web servers it connected to, even if you objected to this disclosure.
WEI was a form of “remote attestation.” That's when your device uses a sub-processor (sometimes called a “Technical Protection Module” or “TPM”) or a walled off part of its main processor (sometimes called a “secure enclave”) to produce a cryptographically signed description of your device and its configuration: which hardware, software, plug-ins, and settings you're running.
Take away our ability to block obnoxious digital content and you guarantee that we will be flooded with it.
When you connect to a server, it demands that your device send this “attestation” before it handles your request. If your device won't provide this data, or if the server doesn't like (or recognize) your device and its details, it can refuse to deal with you. And because the attestation is prepared by a TPM or a secure enclave that you can't modify or override, you don't get to decide which facts about your device it's allowed to see.
Practically speaking, this means that remote attestation lets a server refuse to deal with you until you turn off your ad-blocker and your tracker-blocker. It means that the server can discriminate against users who block auto-play sound and video, who block pop-ups, who put the tab in the background when it's playing a mandatory pre-roll ad.
WEI was especially disturbing in light of Google's plan to kill ad-blockers and privacy blockers through updates to Chrome, an effort that continues to this day.
These blockers are an important part of the dynamic between web publishers and their users. In the real world, when you get an offer, you can make a counter-offer. That's all an ad-blocker is: a way for users to respond to a server whose opening bid is, “How about you give me all your data and let me take over your computer in exchange for showing you this page?” with “How about 'Nah?'”
We didn't get rid of pop-up ads by making them illegal, or by boycotting advertisers who used them. We got rid of pop-up ads when web users installed pop-up blockers, which made pop-up ads pointless. Take away our ability to block obnoxious digital content and you guarantee that we will be flooded with it.
These kinds of modifications aren't just used to block ads—they're also key to accessibility. People who have photosensitive epilepsy or suffer from low-contrast vision problems use add-ons to reformat pages so they can safely and legibly access them.
WEI's creators said they were only trying to put the web on a level playing field with apps, which routinely disclose facts about your device to the companies whose servers you connect to, without asking you, and even if you don’t want them to. Apps are a source of bottomless enshittification, not least because (unlike the web), they enjoy special, dangerous legal protections that make it very legally risky to modify them. WEI wasn't an effort to level the playing field between apps and the web—it was a race to the bottom, an attempt to make the web as enshittification-friendly as apps.
Public outrage to WEI killed the project, but Google's commitment to augmenting its illegal commercial lockdown efforts with technical lockdowns never ended. Now, Google has rolled out an experimental “reCAPTCHA Mobile Verification” that uses an app, your camera, and your device's TPM or secure enclave to produce an attestation about your Android device.
This will make it much easier for the apps and other services you interact with to block your device if you run an Android alternative, or if you install a mod that overrides the actions of Google's stock Android.
This is a terrible idea—it's every bit as bad as WEI was. In an age in which Big Tech is ever-more tied to authoritarian governments, redesigning our devices to tell strangers things we don't want them to know isn't just shortsighted, it's inexcusable.
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