The case for Physical Archives
Roberto Lima, LONTAD Team Analyst
Just another day at work. Office life is dominated by computer screens, coffee and chairs. Right? Not necessarily; not when you routinely handle an asset recognized by UNESCO as documentary heritage of humanity.
Today, without warning, what suddenly appeared in my hands was nothing less than a document signed by Paul von Hindenburg in 1931, as the last Reichspräsident of the Weimar Republic.
Disconcerted, one of my first thoughts was, "am I looking at the same unsuspecting ink that gave the chancellery and dictatorship to Hitler, respectively, in January and March 1933?" If so, this is a significantly dark ink: both literally and metaphorically.
Dark but historically significant nevertheless. Many of these unassertive pieces of paper are museum grade. It is crucial that humanity holds onto these physical documents, despite all the digitization efforts of this age.
Think about it -- could we use Hindenburg’s signed document to gather more information about our history?
Certainly. We could study the composition of the paper, for example, and compare it with paper samples of the 1920s, 1930s and 1940s, gaining insights on the evolution of the German economy in those days. Or we could simply go about tracking down its originating pen? Sounds possible with today's technology. Or perhaps there are secrets beyond belief that only future generations will be able to benefit from?
When it comes to those documents by Hindenburg giving power to Hitler, futurists could argue there will be a device that would enable us to dive deep enough into that ink to capture data that reveals the vital signs of Hindenburg when he reluctantly signed them… Or perhaps we could amplify the sound vibrations that that paper fiber contains so as to recreate Hindenburg’s voiced considerations to his cabinet, just before that terrible mistake of his? Our 1931 Hindenburg document could help to establish a baseline of his private voice and vital signs…
Far-fetched? Well, we simply don’t know what the future has in store for us. Bear in mind what one piece of human bone can tell us today, thanks to DNA analysis, with far-reaching elucidation power in fields as diverse as Linguistics or Evolutionary biology. Less than a century ago this kind of data was, if anything, pure science fiction!
Consider the fact that technology consistently improves, continuously yielding more discoveries. The recent examples are many: GPR (Ground Penetrating Radar) and the discovery of ancient cities in Belize; Carbon-14 analysis and the Holy Shroud; Ultraviolet imagery and the Basel Papyrus; X-rays and software advancements helping to unearth every layer of Da Vinci and Picasso's masterpieces. And it is bound to continue: will Big Data help crack the code of the Linear A Minoan language?
For most of these scientific advances, digital records could be of no avail because they contain limited information, hence we would potentially depend in many cases exclusively on physical records.
And the document by Paul von Hindenburg, with all its secrets, is just one example of many, illustrating what we routinely see at the Palais des Nations.
It is not just the quality but the quantity of these archive materials: The League of Nations archives is a treasure trove of historical records. This definitely makes working for LONTAD a unique privilege.
But given the United Nation’s phenomenal effort in digitizing all this material (via the LONTAD project), why is it always so important to insist in highlighting the importance of physical records?
Well, while digital information does have fascinating qualities (otherwise we wouldn’t be digitizing them), particularly in terms of facilitating access, it sometimes happens that, in the context of digitization projects, poorly informed (and sometimes unscrupulous managers) advance the idea of outright disposing the physical originals! A quick and easy gain in space and resources… or a reputation for being a CEO of action (cringe)!
The physical, long-term preservation of the physical records means not just banking on future technology and research. Physical records have a unique value and represent an extra layer of defense in preservation overall.
We should all understand that amid the current digitization frenzy, if compared to digital, physical records preservation and use remain far more reliable in the long term. That is because paper fits in a millenary tradition. We are very familiar with preserving and conserving them. But when it comes to digital, there are many seriously underestimated difficulties, expenses and unknowns.
The main Pre-Digitization room during visit of UNOG Director-General Tatiana Valovaya.
In fact, and quite counter-intuitively, as far as the relationship between use and preservation, especially while taking the economy into account, few objects function better than paper. And if considering preservation alone, you would almost be better off only by having the information engraved in stone! From a heritage perspective, of course.
In contrast, think of the information you kept on floppy disk just 25 years ago. Or even CD-ROMs as recently as in the mid-2000s. Can you still find them? If you do, accessing their information will be challenging at best. If not scourged by “bit rot”, your floppy disk files now require rare (and expensive) legacy hardware, software and expertise.
League of Nation records in the scanning phase.
Maintaining (dated) high tech is hard work. It involves continuous update of hardware and software. And the personnel to ensure this process. Year after year. Decade after decade. Century after century. That's just regular maintenance work because there are other unusual, latent threats such as cyberwarfare, hackers, government, politically motivated (or not) internet shutdowns, digital information manipulation, and so on and so forth. After all, in the long term everything is possible!
All the instability and unknowns aside, digital can very well be preserved long term. It is just labour and expertise intensive. And that is…very expensive.
Truth be told, most people live under the spell of “once digital, forever digital”. Or even, “you find everything in Google”. As if digital information is bound to appear on the internet “automagically”, be accessible on command, and exist indefinitely, somehow, somewhere (in the “clouds”).
And this funny misunderstanding allows one to entertain some even worse ideas. How about lighting that Hindenburg document on fire?
In Ray Bradbury's novel Fahrenheit 451, the author describes a dystopian government squad whose only job is to chase and burn every book they find. All based on a particular ideology, for a noble cause, of course; because they had “finally” found something “better” than books.
Does this dystopia sound familiar?
Using the development of technology as an argument to even think of disposing of physical records is the expression of a pervasive, naive ideology around the digital. Unfortunately, and somewhat surprisingly, it does exist and is occasionally voiced in corporate corridors.
To avoid a Fahrenheit 451 scenario, there should be no confusion around this: online you will NEVER access the League of Nations archives, but rather its digital version. One digitized document is a record in its own right, with limitations and advantages all of its own.
So you can rest assured that in the stacks of the Palais des Nations stands the real deal; protecting the dormant secrets of the likes of Hindenburg, and the unique experience of confronting our shared human heritage up close and personal.
For you and future generations.
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