Saturday, June 15, 2013

In Preservation of Electronic Records (or the attempts thereof)

Before beginning with the topic of this entry (which can be discerned by the title), I must first begin by addressing my personal path to this topic.

My primary interest is history, or information as it relates to history--or assessing information from a historical perspective. Case in point, if you tell me Tesla Motors has potential for growth, I study the history of the company, its founders, and the origins of the name. Rather than accepting information as it is given, I read the background--seeking to find out what led up to this point, if only to determine future trends.

Consequently, I handle a lot of paper-based materials. Books mostly, but also magazines, newspapers, and archives. Yes, I also spend an excessive amount of time on the Internet. (I am human.)

The trick, you see, is applying the Internet concept to the past. To me, it was always symbolic of the present and future--simply because of its dynamic state and how it has been promoted as being hi-tech and fluid.

Even then, the first glimpse that I had where this could be a problem came with the first collection on which I worked. Along with the boxes of files and cup holders, the organization donated a desktop computer, and I was left with questions. For the organization, it was a dated model running on an older OS and containing information which was not relevant to the revamped/remodeled organization (which had changed its name and business strategy a few years before), but the files contained on the computer were still of historic value. For me, the question was accessing those files: what should I do? Understand, it took me fifteen months to process the physical collection. Debating how to handle the electronic side of the collection was yet another matter which I simply did not want to get into.

That same summer (2007), I visited the Library of Congress (LOC) for the first time. Attending a preservation lecture for junior fellows, I had a chance to meet with the then-director of the LOC's Preservation Directorate, and pose my question: How should the system be accessed and preserved? It was a two-part question, and the nature of it was something better suited for the Office of Strategic Initiative (OSI)'s National Digital Information Infrastructure and Preservation Program (NDIIPP). The initial response was focused more on the aspect of physical preservation--that of the hard drive for potential recovery of information than repeated recovery.

A few years later, after a going through my first laptop (but not my first computer), the solution came to me. Initially, I thought all the information could simply be relocated to a portable hard drive, and, from there, switched to high-density flash drives or passports. This solution (which I was using for my broken laptop) would salvage the files, but the execution of the files would require the use of older software. From what I recall, the back of the donated desktop had ports for USB connections, so it wasn't that old (though it probably ran on Windows 95 or 98). While emulators could solve future problems, Microsoft Word can open older files, so the question would really come down to the ability to open or access e-mail documents located on the computer.

Ultimately, it's a learning process, and it brings us to today. DARE, Inc. operated in the transition from paper-based correspondence to e-mails. I could handle their analog materials easily enough, but I elected not to bother with the electronic records--primarily due to time, but also because I was studying history, and there's a time frame with which historians and history students are supposed to operate.

Typically, the events should not be more recent than within the last 30 years, but that timeline is changing. Some now suggest 15 years is okay. There are several reasons for creating these...time barriers. For starters, the more distance we put between ourselves and the events which occurred, the more likely we are to produce material which is objective. There will be primary resources, secondary resources based on the primary resources, and a synthesis of both. Someone once told me it takes about three generations to sufficiently distance ourselves from the past (though the Civil War seems to be an exception to that rule).

Another reason to be cautious of more recent events is because they are fresh. This relates to the matter of objectivity, but from a different angle. Just as historians strive for objectivity in research, there is a concern that either when conducting research, information retrieved (interviews/oral histories) may be too biased and information distributed (books, articles, presentations, documentaries) may be received with hostility. So again, there is reason to be aware of the timing.

This practice of history is one reason I avoided processing electronic records. And yet, in other papers I used, I made use of electronic records. Granted, the records were digitized scans of analog materials written 50-60 years ago, but I was still making use of electronic materials. I suspect that with the rapid information available via the Internet--especially in the form of firsthand accounts (see blogs, Twitter, editorials, e-mails, etc.), historians must reduce that 30-year limit in order to sufficiently process the rapid influx of information. Otherwise, could history run the risk of becoming outdated? It's a matter of staying on top of the information as it becomes available. (And yes, I am aware of the contradiction I am presenting here.)

Now, applying this to the title (finally), I have, again,  spent much of my time processing analog collections. However, I also spent a few years creating digital collections (or engaging in digital curation) using CONTENTdm. Basically, I took material from analog collections, scanned it (photographs, slides, postcards, letters, etc.) entered the corresponding metadata and posted the information online in a collection. It's a bit more complicated than that, but that's what I did.

What I did not do is process how the collections I built + the e-mails I have sent + the digital images I have taken + the blogs I have posted + social network stuff I have done...all of which is but one person's contribution to growth of the Internet as a whole. Now then, you can also factor in everyone else who uses the Internet, and it is going to be a few billion people. Each site tends to document and save its own information--and it's not with nefarious intent. When you go back to your Gmail account, your stored e-mails and documents will be there. The same applies to Dropbox, LinkedIn, etc.

When applied to corporate or government affairs, there is a need to monitor and preserve electronic records. More than that--it's the law. It gets dicey, because it becomes a catch-22 of sorts. (More on that here: http://www.archives.gov/about/laws/fed-agencies.html.) So now the Federal government is charged with maintain and preserve records which, based on the current technology and media formats, have relatively short lifespans. I think the lifespan is around 10-20 years, and 30 years for optical media. Even highly acidic paper lasts longer than that. It's about tradeoffs:

Electronic records
Cons: short lifespan, system-dependent for access (require monitor, require executable files/software, require electricity)

Pros: efficient use of space, improved accessibility means one document can potentially be viewed anywhere

What local, state, and the Federal government encounter is an archival albatross of sorts, dangling from their virtual necks. As sure as they must work to ensure that government records are stored, organized, preserved, and made accessible to the public, the task of ensuring that these records remain preserved falls largely onto them. It becomes a race against time, and the public needs to be better informed about this challenge. (Improved outreach would help.)



Future archivists simply need to be trained for electronic records. For historical purposes, I spent time in special collections working with analog materials. While some analog materials may still pop up, and while archives and special collections no doubt have donated collections waiting to be processed, there is another debate on the horizon: analog materials physically can last longer. Digital records cannot (again 10-20 years). When a digital collection is donated, should archivists make it a priority to quickly transfer the digital records to a new server/hard drive to buy time? This would make sense.

Understand, those specializing in the field of archives are encountering digital overflow/electronic records management, and the scholarship present is finally picking up speed to address the issues. Though not a "new" format or even a new issue, what was once something of a drizzle became a tidal wave after 2000. In her presidential address, then-president of the Society of American Archivists (SAA), President Helen Tibbo, discussed the growth of digital records, and noted that the SAA had established the Digital Archives Specialist (DAS) certification program in an effort to help seasoned veterans and those new to the profession brush up or fine-tune their skills in preparation for dealing with the mass of electronic records eagerly awaiting processing and preserving.

For those not keen on the topic, there is a sense of urgency. Prior to 2000,  campaigns were a more "personal" experience"--conducted in person, over the phone, and via mail. What the Internet brought was celerity. Rather than using mail, phone, fax, or couriers, notes could be sent via e-mail, text, Twitter, etc. Just as sure as this practice picked up during the Bush Administration, it mushroomed during the Obama Administration--which fully embraced the potential of the electronic medium. Since 2008, political groups have worked to adapt to web 2.0, and not surprisingly, the practice has flowed through to various government offices which, if they had not been actively using social networking tools before, were most certainly using them afterwards--particularly because they had become an accepted professional practice and means of professional outreach. (Once it was realized they were no longer a trend or novelty, it was a matter of keeping up with the Joneses.)

How does this impact the role of the archivist? Again, it goes back to law. If archives are intended to preserve public record, make it accessible, and foster a sense of government accountability to the people, then archivists must stay abreast on technological advances and endeavor to find ways to integrate the practice of managing and preserving electronic records with the existing practice of processing analog records without sacrificing original context.

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