{"id":1191,"date":"2019-05-10T09:00:52","date_gmt":"2019-05-10T08:00:52","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/exponentialdecay.co.uk\/blog\/?p=1191"},"modified":"2026-01-28T08:16:24","modified_gmt":"2026-01-28T08:16:24","slug":"digital-preservation-at-the-coalface-or-how-i-learned-that-glamping-doesnt-always-involve-the-vast-wilderness","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/exponentialdecay.co.uk\/blog\/digital-preservation-at-the-coalface-or-how-i-learned-that-glamping-doesnt-always-involve-the-vast-wilderness\/","title":{"rendered":"Digital preservation at the coalface: or how I learned that glamping doesn\u2019t always involve the vast wilderness"},"content":{"rendered":"\r\n

The last Friday of March this year, I was invited by Elizabeth Kata at the IAEA (International Atomic Energy Agency) to give a presentation at the Vienna Institute for Historical Research (Institut f\u00fcr \u00d6sterreichische Geschichtsforschung<\/a>). I don’t have a transcript for that day or a complete set of notes that I followed, but here is the essence of the talk. In it, Reflecting on community and self-development in digital preservation; I touch upon, among other things, community, recognizing privilege, and finding value and meaning in digital records.<\/p>\r\n

I began and ended the talk by singing two Waiata, an important part of my previous role at Archives New Zealand.\u00a0<\/p>\r\n

Te Manaaki taonga<\/h2>\r\n

Te Manaaki taonga<\/em>
E whakarauika\u00a0ana\u00a0I te tini e<\/em>
E ranga\u00a0ana\u00a0I te tira<\/em>
Hei huruhuru moo te manu ka rere<\/em>
Hei Poutuumaaro mo te kainga\u00a0<\/em>
Tuituinga koorero tuituinga tangata<\/em>
Manaaki taaonga manaaki tangata<\/em>
(Tane chant: Tuituinga koorero tuituinga tangata.<\/em>
Manaaki taaonga manaki tangata – Hi!)<\/em>
(Last time Wahine join chant: manaaki tangata \u2013 Hi!)<\/em><\/p>\r\n

The value\/prestige in protecting treasures<\/em>
They gather\/connect the people like the gathering of fish<\/em>
They weave the party\/masses<\/em>
To be like feathers of a bird that takes flight<\/em>
To be a strong pillar for our\u00a0home<\/em>
The sewing of stories, the sewing of people<\/em>
The protection of treasures the protection of people<\/em><\/p>\r\n

<\/p>\r\n

Taonga<\/h2>\r\n

When you hear the lyrics of that Waiata, then you can understand what records mean to the people of New Zealand. Archives are Taonga (treasure in M\u0101ori), and that is quite a powerful thought.<\/p>\r\n

My first moment of emotion with a (any) record was with the Treaty of Waitangi<\/a>.\u00a0<\/p>\r\n

Signed in 1840, the treaty was meant to establish a British governor in New Zealand while still recognizing M\u0101ori ownership of the land. It was signed by over 500 M\u0101ori Chiefs.<\/p>\r\n

Of course<\/em> its intended purpose, and how it worked out, wasn’t quite the same. And so today, the treaty remains a living record. <\/strong><\/em>It is used in treaty land settlements and is vital to the the establishment of a post-colonial identity for the country. It means more to the traditional landowners of New Zealand now; more than it was, perhaps, ever intended to at its conception.<\/p>\r\n

Movement<\/h2>\r\n

The Treaty of Waitangi was moved from Archives New Zealand to the National Library of New Zealand in 2017<\/a> and in preparation for that move I was part of a ceremony where Iwi leaders visited Archives New Zealand to bless the document before it was stored away prior to going. The blessing was to keep the record safe, to wish it well on its next journey to the library in what would be a few short months time.\u00a0<\/p>\r\n

Listening to the various Karakia. watching these people engage with this document, weighed heavily upon the room. Not at all in a bad way. It was the weight of emotion and feeling. Of watching something of incredibly important happening in front of you. It was people engaging with a record. These folk knew what it meant to them, and now I had an emotional connection to the Treaty and a greater connection to the meaning of this Taonga<\/em> to the M\u0101ori people.\u00a0<\/p>\r\n

A record!\u00a0<\/p>\r\n

So my first question to the room today – can you imagine? Have you had the same reaction to a digital record?\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\r\n

Kaitiaki<\/h2>\r\n

At Archives New Zealand we are Kaitiaki. Guardians of the records we look after, including the treaty. That memory is so important for the M\u0101ori people but it should be for us all.<\/p>\r\n

But that’s an interesting point.\u00a0<\/p>\r\n

I don’t want to dismiss the importance of the work we do with any records. But I also want to suggest that there is a tough balancing act when we have to consider taking care of ourselves at the same time.<\/p>\r\n

Vocational Awe<\/h2>\r\n

Fobazi Ettarh (Resident Librarian at Temple University) describes a phenomenon called vocational awe<\/a>. Working for the greater good outweighs the effects of burnout; too little resource; too much work; scope creep; and so forth… goes the responsibilities of those in the GLAM sector.<\/p>\r\n

Indeed, Fobazi puts it succinctly:<\/p>\r\n

\r\n

the more one struggles – the holier the work and institution becomes<\/p>\r\n<\/blockquote>\r\n

My second question to the room: has anyone else in the room seen or are currently experiencing that?<\/em><\/p>\r\n

Bodley’s Librarian (2019)<\/h2>\r\n

Bodley’s Librarian<\/a> and President of the Digital Preservation Coalition recently wrote a piece for the Economist<\/a> February 2019.<\/p>\r\n

\r\n

At Oxford\u2019s libraries we spend around 2-3% of our annual budget on digital preservation, twice as much as in the past, and we are reviewing whether this is enough. Other organisations should probably count on spending a similar share.<\/p>\r\n<\/blockquote>\r\n

2-3%.<\/p>\r\n

It’s 2019!<\/p>\r\n

Think about that number for a bit…\u00a0<\/p>\r\n

McKemmish (2012)<\/h2>\r\n

Contrast that with Professor Sue McKemmish in Reinventing Archival Methods<\/a> on ABC radio in December 2012.<\/p>\r\n

\r\n

And in the general GLAM sector\u2014galleries, libraries, archives, museums\u2014huge capital investment in physical buildings and facilities has happened in the past, and that is what has sustained those kinds of institutions and it’s been critical to the role that they’ve played in our society. But are we putting similar resources or do we need to start to redirect resources into investments in some of the technologies that can really start to address the needs not only of the traditional communities that have been serviced by the archival profession but these other communities who have not been well served by our profession and by our institutions.<\/p>\r\n<\/blockquote>\r\n

2-3% doesn’t sound like it matches that call does it? Sue’s<\/em><\/strong> number includes so much more than digital preservation too. The 2-3% at the Bodleian doesn’t really make you confident that it includes the people in a supportive way does it?<\/p>\r\n

Unicorns?<\/h2>\r\n

But we’re an interesting time. I saw this the other day on Twitter:<\/p>\r\n

Bob Clark: Rockefeller Archives:<\/p>\r\n

\r\n

It’s 2019. If you think #archivists<\/a> who also know and use technology to implement good archival practices are “unicorns” (and say so to their faces), then you’re an antique. Those “unicorns” are the #archives<\/a> profession in the 21st Century. Technology is no longer an innovation. <\/span>—Clarkivist via @archive.org<\/a><\/span><\/em><\/p>\r\n<\/blockquote>\r\n

I’m not about to say I disagree. We are no longer talking about Unicorns in our community. Maybe not even an endangered species.\u00a0<\/p>\r\n

But how is Bob accounting for privilege?<\/p>\r\n