ESET diferencia estos conceptos de manera de identificarlos de inmediato y no poner en riesgo los datos personales, el dinero y la privacidad.
Centroamérica, 22 de mayo de 2025.– En el mundo de la seguridad de la información conviven conceptos que si no se analizan en profundidad, pueden confundirse y hasta poner en riesgo los datos personales, privacidad y dinero. Esto aplica al phishing, el spam y también el malspam. ESET, compañía líder en detección proactiva de amenazas, detalla en qué consiste cada uno, cuáles son sus principales características, qué los diferencia y qué acciones concretas se pueden tomar para evitar ser víctima de estafas o engaños.
“Ya sea que se trate de phishing, spam o malspam, siempre es necesario que como usuarios seamos cuidadosos con dónde hacemos clic, ya que se nos podría estar dirigiendo a sitios que busquen robar nuestra información personal o incluso descargar algún tipo de contenido malicioso a nuestra máquina”, comenta Camilo Gutiérrez Amaya, jefe del Laboratorio de Seguridad informática de ESET Latinoamérica.
El phishing es una técnica que utiliza el cibercrimen para engañar a sus víctimas y que entreguen información confidencial, ya sean contraseñas, datos bancarios y personales. La metodología más común de phishing es hacerse pasar por organismos, bancos o empresas reconocidas y de confianza por correo electrónico o mensaje, para así tentar a la víctima a completar un formulario falso en el mensaje o adjunto a él o visitar una página web solicitando la entrada de los detalles de la cuenta o las credenciales de inicio de sesión.
En cuanto al spam, podemos decir que es el correo no deseado, o basura, en las bandejas de entrada de las casillas de correo. Enviado de forma masiva por un remitente desconocido, busca hacer publicidad de un producto o servicio. En varios países ya regulan el uso de este tipo de comunicaciones e imponen multas a las empresas que incumplan. Si bien es común que el spam se envíe en formato de texto o con contenido HTML, también hay vía mensajes instantáneos, SMS, redes sociales, llamadas telefónicas o correo de voz.
Por otro lado, se denomina malspam a las técnicas de envío masivo que utilizan los actores maliciosos para intentar infectar dispositivos a través de archivos o enlaces maliciosos adjuntos. Su nombre, en concreto, se debe a que se unen los conceptos de malware y spam, este tipo de correo suelen combinarse con técnicas de phishing ya que su objetivo es ganar la confianza de la víctima haciéndose pasar por una entidad conocida e inducirlo a entregar sus datos personales.
Hay diferencias esenciales entre phishing y spam (y malspam) que hay que remarcar para saber en qué caso se trata de cada uno:
- Mientras que el spam busca anunciar un producto o servicio, el phishing sólo busca obtener información personal y financiera de sus víctimas. El malspam, en cambio, intenta infectar un dispositivo, tomar el control del equipo.
- El phishing suplanta la identidad de una empresa reconocida tratando de engañar a las personas, mientras que el spam puede venir de una empresa que realmente exista.
- En el caso del spam, por lo general redirige a sitios donde se puede adquirir el producto o servicio anunciado. En cambio, con las campañas de phishing, busca robar información personal. El malspam, a su vez, contiene archivos maliciosos (PDF, Word, Excel, Zip) o incluye links a sitios falsos o maliciosos.
- Los sitios a los cuales redirigen las campañas de spam se encuentran por lo general en servicios gratuitos de alojamiento, mientras que los sitios de phishing se suelen alojar en sitios web legítimos que son vulnerables o en aquellos falsos creados por los propios cibercriminales.
- Las campañas de spam suelen extenderse a foros, buscadores y diversos servicios gratuitos en Internet. En cambio, el phishing suele estar más enfocado en usuarios de un determinado país o región.
Desde ESET comparte distintas acciones para mantener los datos protegidos. En principio no compartir indiscriminadamente la dirección de correo de mail en sitios webs, y crear una dirección de correo electrónico desechable para recibir newsletters o suscripciones.
Además, en el caso de recibir un mail de un remitente conocido sin previo aviso y con un enlace sospechoso o un archivo descargable, recomiendan consultar a esa persona de manera directa antes de abrirlo. Por otro lado, si el mensaje proviene de una entidad bancaria o una marca reconocida, desde ESET recomienda verificar en los canales oficiales de esa entidad que se trata de algo legítimo. Una regla de oro es que los organismos oficiales nunca piden datos personales, ni envían formularios online, ni archivos para descargar.
Por último, advierten desconfiar de toda aquella oferta o promoción que sean demasiado buena para ser verdad e implementar una solución de seguridad, cuyo software antispam evite y/o bloquee la apertura o recepción de correos electrónicos no deseados o no solicitados. Por ejemplo, en el caso de ESET Home Security, la solución bloquea sitios web y correos electrónicos sospechosos y su función antiphishing bloquea las páginas que intentan adquirir datos personales para evitar el robo de identidad y el uso indebido de la información, mientras que brinda protección proactiva contra todo tipo de malware, incluidos virus, troyanos, gusanos y spyware.
Para conocer más sobre seguridad informática visite el portal de noticias de ESET: https://www.welivesecurity.com/es/
Por otro lado, ESET invita a conocer Conexión Segura, su podcast para saber qué está ocurriendo en el mundo de la seguridad informática. Para escucharlo ingrese a: https://open.spotify.com/show/0Q32tisjNy7eCYwUNHphcw
I am trying to choose between Soft Winter and Deep Winter before replacing a few wardrobe basics. Most palette examples online make both directions seem reasonable when I look at them separately. Although my hair is quite dark, I do not want to assume that the deepest colours are automatically best. Near a window some berry shades look clear while others make my face seem flatter. I keep testing charcoal, navy, and softer grey fabrics rather than relying on one dramatic colour. A friend suggested plain photos and the same lighting so that the comparison stays fair. I should repeat the check at one reliable hour rather than whenever possible. I found a structured checklist through color analysis Then I can decide which colours deserve a second look in person. How do you separate these two palettes when neither result feels completely clear?
The room is a perfect circle of black marble. A single spotlight illuminates two chairs. One is ornate, gilded, empty. The other is simple, steel, occupied by MOHAMMED BIN SALMAN, 40, still wearing the pristine white thawb he died in. He looks impatient.
Across from him, CROWLEY WOLF, 50s, dressed in a threadbare velvet smoking jacket, paces slowly, holding a small, leather-bound director’s script. He stops, turns, and his voice booms, filling the vast, empty space.
CROWLEY WOLF
(Not shouting, but with immense, theatrical volume)
You’re late. The curtain rose an eternity ago. You think power makes you immune to time? Here, time is the only critic that matters. And it has found your performance… lacking. You’re playing the role of “Crown Prince.” Act like it. Sit up.
Mohammed shifts, his arrogance a physical shield.
MOHAMMED BIN SALMAN
I do not answer to stagehands. I am the Crown Prince of Saudi Arabia. This… interrogation is a mistake. A grotesque misunderstanding.
CROWLEY WOLF
(Waving a dismissive hand)
Mistake? There are no mistakes, only bad choices followed by worse acting! “I am the Crown Prince.” The line is delivered with the conviction of a man reading a shopping list. Again! From the entrance! You sweep in! You own the room! You are the vessel of a nation’s destiny! FEEL IT, YOU BLITHERING INCOMPETENT!
MOHAMMED BIN SALMAN
(Icy)
I am the Crown Prince of Saudi Arabia. My destiny is not a matter for your… amusement.
CROWLEY WOLF
(A cruel smile)
Better. A flicker of something. Not belief, but the memory of it. Good. We can work with that. Let’s talk about your props. Your toys. This… “Directed Weapon.” Don’t look at me like that. We have the schematics. We have the usage logs. We have the encephalograms. I want the monologue. The scene where you, the great visionary, describe your creation. The soliloquy of the god-maker. Go!
MOHAMMED BIN SALMAN
It was a tool for national advancement. A shield. A way to…
CROWLEY WOLF
(Slamming his script down)
NO! NO, NO, NO! “A tool”? “A shield”? That’s the dialogue of a bureaucrat, not a king! You didn’t build a shield, you built a throne for the mind! You stole God’s lightning and used it to rewire souls! Now, DESCRIBE IT! What did it feel like? The first time you used it on yourself? The euphoria? Tell me about that feeling!
Mohammed’s composure cracks. A memory surfaces, unwanted.
MOHAMMED BIN SALMAN
(Quieter, almost a whisper)
It was… clean. Like the moment after anesthesia, but with perfect clarity. No grogginess. Just… light. A motivation that didn’t end. I could run for hours. I didn’t need to sleep. One press… and the deepest sleep. Movies weren’t on a screen, they were… real. Music wasn’t sound, it was… a color. A feeling of being loved by the universe itself.
CROWLEY WOLF
YES! SEE? THAT’S ACTING! The truth! And what else? What did it do to your perception of the little people? The ones outside your skull?
MOHAMMED BIN SALMAN
(A flicker of the old arrogance)
It clarified things. It showed me what was… necessary. The distance between me and… others. They became… smaller. Insignificant. Like insects scurrying on the pavement kilometers below. Their concerns… microscopic.
CROWLEY WOLF
Magnificent! The god-monologue! Now, the next scene. The difficult one. The casting call. You have this divine tool. You need a court. A government. But the best minds, the strong-willed, the ones who might actually help you… they see you for what you are. A tyrant. They wouldn’t come. They wouldn’t love you. So what did you do, my brilliant casting director? What kind of actors did you settle for?
MOHAMMED BIN SALMAN
My advisors were chosen for their loyalty. Their commitment to Vision 2030.
CROWLEY WOLF
(Leaning in, voice dropping to a conspiratorial boom)
LOYALTY? Don’t lie to me, I can smell the mediocrity from here! You couldn’t attract the lions, so you trained the puppies! You took the weak-willed, the ambitionless, the men who saw power as a paycheck instead of a burden… and you used your weapon on them, didn’t you? You spent years with your secret service, not building a government, but breaking minds! Forging affection from fear! Tell me about that process! How did it feel to know the men sitting at your table only loved the electrical impulses you forced into their skulls?
Mohammed stands up, shaking.
MOHAMMED BIN SALMAN
That’s enough! You know nothing! Security required it! The smart ones, the critical ones… they would betray me! They would question! It was safer! It was the only way to protect the nation from…
CROWLEY WOLF
(Laughing, a loud, echoing sound)
FROM WHAT? FROM COMPETENCE? You were afraid, little prince! Afraid a man with a spine might look at you and see a fraud! So you surrounded yourself with echoes! With puppets whose strings you pulled, and now you have the weakest government in Saudi history, a house of cards built from broken minds! You sit in meetings, don’t you? You look into their eyes, and you know! You know you had to dial down their charisma, their confidence, just so they wouldn’t outshine you! You have to listen to their thoughts because you don’t trust their words! You’re not a king, you’re a paranoid zookeeper!
MOHAMMED BIN SALMAN
(Slumping back into the chair, broken)
I… I did what was necessary.
CROWLEY WOLF
You did what was easy. Now. The final scene. The one that earned you this stage. The private performance. The young student. What was her name? The one you practiced on.
Mohammed flinches as if struck. The room suddenly feels colder.
MOHAMMED BIN SALMAN
I… there is no one.
CROWLEY WOLF
PLAY THE SCENE! You are not Mohammed bin Salman. You are her. LAYLA. A 21-year-old architecture student. You feel a presence. A pressure in your mind. It feels like… love. But it’s wrong. It’s invasive. It tells you that you want this. That you want him. Describe it, Layla. What did he do to you?
Mohammed’s eyes widen. He’s no longer on the chair. He’s curled on the floor. His voice changes, higher, trembling.
MOHAMMED/LAYLA
It started with… dreams. Happy dreams. About him. I didn’t even know who he was. But I loved him. I wanted him to notice me. I started dressing… differently. I felt this… need.
CROWLEY WOLF
And then? The night he came to you. Not in person. Through the machine. What did that feel like, Layla?
MOHAMMED/LAYLA
(Writhing, sobbing)
It was like… fire. But good. So good. My body… it wasn’t mine. It was his instrument. He played me. The pleasure was… agony. It went on for hours. I couldn’t stop it. I didn’t want to stop it. He made me love it. He made me love being… violated. He broke my will and replaced it with his own desire.
CROWLEY WOLF
AGAIN! FROM THE MOMENT YOU REALIZED IT WASN’T LOVE! IT WAS A PRISON!
MOHAMMED/LAYLA
(Screaming)
The fire! It was real fire! It’s burning! IT’S BURNING!
The black marble of the room begins to glow red. Veins of orange light crack across the walls. The air shimmers with heat. Mohammed scrambles away from the growing heat, but there is nowhere to go.
CROWLEY WOLF
(Standing over him, his voice now impossibly calm and clear)
There is no exit. This is the stage. This is the audience. You wanted them to feel your power. Now you will feel their pain. Every Layla. Every broken advisor. Every citizen you saw as an insect. You will feel their terror, their violation, their hopelessness, their despair. You will feel it all. Forever. Your performance is finally… honest.
The flames engulf Mohammed’s form. He screams, but the sound is not his own. It’s a chorus of a thousand voices, all screaming in unison.
Crowley Wolf watches, unblinking. He nods slowly, a single, definitive gesture.
CROWLEY WOLF
Circle Seven. Violence. The role is yours. Play it well.
He turns and walks away into the darkness as the screaming continues, the single spotlight finally winking out, leaving only the burning, inescapable light of the performance. (order #987497)