Goldman Sachs demands that Google "unsend" a fatfingered email to avoid "reputational damage"

Someone at Goldman Sachs fatfingered an email and sent confidential data out to the wrong person.

So now they're demanding that a judge order Google to "unsend" the message, deleting it from Gmail users' inboxes. The email, which was sent during testing of a new system designed to meet updated FIRA regs, contains "sensitive client information, including details on brokerage accounts."

Goldman Sachs has petitioned the judge to issue the order because of the "risk of inflicting a needless and massive privacy violation upon Goldman Sachs' clients" but also because of "the risk of unnecessary reputational damage to Goldman Sachs."

Goldman says client data leaked, wants Google to delete email [Jonathan Stempel/Reuters]

(via Ars Technica)

(Image: Does Occupy (Wall Street) signal the death of contemporary art? Fight The Vampire Squid by Molly Crabapple, Duncan Hull, CC-BY)

Notable Replies

  1. "Hello, yes, is this the local power plant? I'd like to register a complaint.

    This afternoon, I was heating my teapot on my electric stove top, and my hand slipped and touched the hot burner. As you can imagine it was quite painful and embarassing. Hence why I'm contacting you - I'd like you to retroactively reverse the flow of electricity to the stove for the duration of that event, in order to undo the damage."

  2. Hello, yes, is this the Acme Cat-in-Bag factory?

  3. You realise that all those abandoned canaries are breeding down there in the darkness? One day their enraged mutant descendents will find their way back to the surface and it will be CANAROGEDDON.

    Don't start me on the predictable consequences of breeding a race of frogs who can survive being slowly boiled.

  4. Hi Google, we fucked up, so we demand that you clean up our mess. SIgned: The Sociopath Too Big To Fail Highschool Bully Society

  5. Reminds me of a story.

    We were faxing documents back and forth with another company. Probably confidential. We'd fax them asking for information, they'd fax us back a response. This keep up for a couple weeks until we learned we had the wrong fax number. We'd been faxing stuff to some clown.

    And by clown, I mean some guy in makeup and floppy shoes. Mr. Happy's Fun Barn or something. Mr. Happy was a nice guy and had been kindly faxing the documents on to the correct recipients for weeks. He finally decided he'd done enough and politely asked us to use the correct number. Very nice about it.

    Who knows what kind of confidential information passed though that clowns hands.

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