crJ Journal of the

~ Archives

U and Records

~ Assocmtion

~ ofNewZeabnd

U

April

OBJECTS OF THE ASSOCIATION

The objects of the Association shall be:

i. To foster the care, preservation and proper use of archives and records, both public and private, and their effective administration.

ii. To arouse public awareness of the importance of records and archives and in all matters affecting their preservation and use, and to co-operate or affiliate with any other bodies in New Zealand or elsewhere with like objects.

iii. To promote the training of archivists, records keepers, curators, librarians and others by the dissemination of specialised knowledge and by encouraging the provision of adequate training in the administration and conservation of archives and records.

iv. To encourage research into problems connected with the use, administration and conservation of archives and records and to promote the publication of the results of this research.

v. To promote the standing of archives institutions.

vi. To advise and support the establishment of archives services throughout New Zealand.

vii. To publish a journal at least once a year and other publications in furtherance of these objects.

MEMBERSHIP Membership of the Association is open to any individual or institution interested in fostering the objects of the Association. Subscription rates are:

Within New Zealand $45 (individuals) $75 (institutions)

Two individuals living at the same joint address can take a joint membership $55; this entitles both to full voting rights at meetings, but only one copy of Archifacts.

Overseas $75 (individuals) $95 (institutions)

Applications to join the Association, membership renewals and correspondence on related matters should be addressed to:

The Membership Secretary ARANZ PO Box 11-553 Manners Street Wellington New Zealand

ARCHIFACTS

Published by the

Archives

and Records

Association

of New Zealand

2000

Archifacts

ARCHIFACTS

Editor: Brad Patterson

Editorial Committee: Russell Clarke Gavin McLean Brad Patterson John Roberts

Reviews Editor: Stuart Strachan

Archifacts is published twice-yearly, in April and October.

Articles and correspondence should be addressed to the Editor at:

PO Box 11-553 Wellington

Intending contributors should obtain a style sheet from the Editorial Committee.Articles and reviews should be submitted both in hard copy and on disk.

Printed by McKenzie Thornton Cooper Ltd, Wellington.

© Copyright ARANZ 2000

ISSN 0303-7940

Contents

Editorial iv

Articles Barbara Reed Archives of the New Millennium:

Exploring the Archival Issues of the Early Twenty-first Century 1

Janine Delaney Redefining the Role for Collecting Archives in an Electronic Paradigm 13

Rex Sinnott The Census and Privacy in New Zealand: Do Privacy Concerns fustify Destruction of Name-Identified Census Forms? 25

Looking Back J. C. Beaglehole Why Archives? 51

Comment Lois Robertson Marching to the Beat of a Different Drum 58

Some Career Development Advice for Archivists 64

Reviews

Rachel Victoria University of Wellington 1899-1999: Barrowman A History

(David McKenzie) 66

Ted Ling Solid, Safe, Secure: Building Archives Repositories in Australia ( Jonathan London) 69

Caroline Daley Girls & Women, Men & Boys: Gender in Taradale 1886-1930 (Bronwyn Dalley) 71

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Just occasionally a delay can prove to be a boon. In this case, the late appearance of the journal has made it possible to celebrate the new millennium by bringing to members the very latest development in respect of National Archives. In mid-May the Hon Marian Hobbs, Minister responsible for National Archives, issued a media release headed 'New Dawn for National Archives'. If what is promised comes to pass, just maybe the year 2000 will usher in for National Archives what the Concise Oxford Dictionary defines as a figurative meaning of the word millennium: 'a period of good government, general happiness and prosperity'.

In her statement Ms Hobbs announced that from 1 October 2000 National Archives will become an autonomous state department, the specialist agency responsible for all recordkeeping within government. 'This is a new beginning for National Archives', she said. 'The Government recognises that the important constitutional function . . . [exercised by] . . . National Archives requires independent status*. Observing that National Archives was probably best known for its custody of the nation's founding documents, in particular the Treaty of Waitangi, the Minister expressed her personal conviction that the institution's responsibility for ensuring preservation of seemingly more mundane records was just as important.The availability of such papers underpinned good government. 'An effective Archives is essential if our democracy is to function', Ms Hobbs concluded. 'One of the keys to our freedom as a people is the accountability of governments to those who elect them. For this to happen, the record of government must be accurate and reliable'. She also indicated that clear separation from other state agencies was but the first step in turning National Archives into 'a strong responsive institution'. The June 2000 Budget would include a substantial increase in baseline funding for the institution; sufficient to enable adequate maintenance of its buildings, to boost staffing and to facilitate standards-setting and regulatory capabilities. The Budget would also provide for a one-off cash injection to cover establishment costs and to develop computerised client access services. In a subsequent speech, Ms Hobbs conveyed that revision of the existing archives legislation would be expedited.

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N e w Dawn for the National Archives

Editorial

It is said that the darkest hours frequently come immediately before the dawn, and without doubt National Archives has experienced some dark hours since early 1995. The skies, however, were already appreciably lightening even before 1999 was out. Notwithstanding the Court of Appeal's mid-December dismissal of the ARANZ/NZSG appeal against Justice Ellis' July 1998 decision that it was still 'too early' to rule whether the forced incorporation of the National Archives into an Internal Affairs Heritage Group unlawfully eroded the statutory functions of the Chief Archivist, and the Court's parallel upholding of an appeal by the Secretary for Internal Affairs against the same judge's June 1999 finding that monies had been illegally removed from the National Archives vote, there were already clear signs that the judgments might largely be academic. By the time the judgments were issued the incoming Labour-Alliance coalition had already unequivocally disavowed incorporation of the National Archives into a Heritage Group, as well as expressing strong doubts about the transfer of supervision of the institution to the newly-minted Ministry of Culture and Heritage. In pre-election statements, most strongly in Labour's Arts Policy, Prime Minister Helen Clark had expressed herself 'appalled' at what she termed an 'extraordinary restructuring'. She had pledged that with a change of government new legislation would reinforce the statutory independence of the National Archives, and that Internal Affairs would be forced 'to get its sticky hands off the Archives and its budget'. The erstwhile plaintiff groups therefore took great heart from the early appointment of Wellington Central MP Marian Hobbs as Minister responsible for the National Archives, the first such appointment in New Zealand's history.

Despite ongoing isolated mutterings that the protracted litigation was unnecessary (perhaps most bewilderingly instanced in the New Zealand Archivist's recent editorial query: 'was the whole exercise a waste of time, energy and ARANZ members' money?'), informed opinion is virtually unanimous that the proceedings were vital in fostering the present Government's determination to bring about significant change. The litigation served a number of purposes. For a start, recourse to the High Court in 1997 slowed, indeed effectively halted, the Internal Affairs restructuring juggernaut. In return for agreement by the plaintiffs to withdraw an injunction application, the Secretary for Internal Affairs undertook to make no permanent appointments to key positions within the new structure, nor to effect structural changes which could not be readily undone, until the legality of his proposals was established beyond doubt. The transfer of proceedings to the Appeal Court preserved this stalemate, fortunately until the political climate changed. The proceedings also afforded unprecedented publicity, for National Archives in particular but also for archives generally. On no previous occasion

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have archives stories featured regularly in the national press or been the subject of television programmes. There can be little doubt that the preparedness of community groups to take up the cudgels, regardless of the odds stacked against them, helped change perceptions in many quarters, some of them very influential. And in this respect the hearings themselves were far from total failures. If the plaintiffs were unsuccessful in securing the decisions sought, they nevertheless very publicly raised questions about the appropriateness of the Internal Affairs proposals. Before the Appeal Court, the Solicitor-General tellingly conceded that there could be a very great difference between what was strictly legal and what was administratively wise. The Appeal Court bench itself expressed appreciation of the concerns of 'the plaintiffs, their supporters, their witnesses and those they represent'. Eighteen months earlier Justice Ellis had deemed the evidence presented by the plaintiffs in the High Court to be cogent and compelling', but had counselled that political rather than legal solutions might be required. That those messages were being heard, even by the outgoing National administration, is demonstrated by its July 1999 decision to moot separation of National Archives from Internal Affairs jurisdiction, transferring supervision to a new Ministry of Culture and Heritage. There was also commitment to a review that would 'establish the best possible institutional arrangements' for National Archives.

The doubtful wisdom of making National Archives a satellite of the Ministry of Culture and Heritage, whether as a separate Crown entity or, as frequently mooted by officials, in some form of partnership with the National Library, has been discussed elsewhere. The latter proposal would always have been unacceptable. While the former may have held some appeal in the past, by 1999 it could be regarded as too little and far too late. By this point there could be little doubt of a Labour-Alliance coalition's commitment to doing very much better. In a sense, an agenda had already been presented by incoming Finance Minister Michael Cullen in a much discussed paper delivered to ARANZ's 1998 Dunedin conference. Dr Cullen then made it clear that in his view separate department status for National Archives was logical and inevitable, as was recognition that the institution, rather than a heritage body, was the 'firm historical, legal, institutional and constitutional rock to which the record of government... (must) . . . be tethered'. Dr Cullen's remarks should have come as no surprise, he having supported positive reform at National Archives for more than a decade, but in the succeeding 18 months it became increasingly evident that his views were shared by a number of influential parliamentary colleagues. In early 1999 list MP turned Wellington Central candidate Marian Hobbs adopted 'the Archives issue' as one plank in her campaign for the seat. During 1999

Editorial

she organised meetings between the stakeholders and Labour leader Helen Clark, who also expressed support. And there were champions amongst the Alliance MPs, most publicly Deputy Leader Sandra Lee. Indeed, it was Ms Lee who had led the criticism of Internal Affairs' aborted 1995 restructuring proposals. It might be safely assumed then, that once first Archives Minister Hobbs was appointed she could anticipate considerable support for a reform programme from senior Cabinet colleagues.

Whether the incoming politicians reforming zeal was mirrored in the stance of its officials, however, must be extremely doubtful. Within weeks of the November election Minister Hobbs was strongly hinting that National Archives would become an independent department by 1 July 2000. However, there are strong indications that, notwithstanding this clear expression of the new political will, senior officials from several departments were already combining to oppose, or at least water down, the proposal. While further resistance from Internal Affairs was probably to be expected, widely circulating rumours suggest that considerable hostility emanated from senior levels of the State Services Commission, strongly supported by officials from the Ministry of Heritage and Culture. The opposition of the last group is understandable. There must have been intense disappointment within the Ministry that not only National Archives but also other parts of the cultural constellation created in July 1999 were now likely to be wrenched from its oversight.The Commission's motives are harder to fathom. Perhaps it was simply that the politicians' preferred model ill-fitted the established, arguably ideologically determined, administrative template favoured by many officials. It may also have been an expression of a long suspected Commission conviction that it should lead, not be led by, politicians. Certainly there are suggestions that, despite instructions to prepare an implementation plan for the proposals subsequently announced by Ms Hobbs, officials stubbornly continued to campaign for yet another 'independent review' of National Archives. While deferral of the new department's launch until 1 October might be considered a minor victory for opposed officials, the tenor of the Minister's May announcements surely confirms that Cabinet will has prevailed - for the moment.

Even when National Archives becomes an independent department on 1 October, there can be no room for stakeholder complacency. While a number of major battles appear now to have been won, that the campaign is well and truly over is still far from assured. And, as more significant conflicts of the twentieth century have strikingly demonstrated, the apparent winners are all too frequently losers of the peace. Until the new department is well and truly bedded in, and even

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after, aspiring bureaucratic empire builders will continue to eye National Archives covetously. In itself, the conferral of departmental status is no guarantee of safety. Recall the National Library, an independent department through the 1990s, was, prior to the election, scheduled for reduction to Crown entity status and transfer to the purview of the Ministry of Culture and Heritage. It is all too possible that, should there be an early change of government, further rearrangements will be considered. Given this possibility, several related matters merit close and ongoing stakeholder attention. The first is vigilance that independent department status means exactly that. Already there are signs that stated ministerial intentions may be diluted through a requirement that National Archives 'purchase' corporate services from an existing agency, possibly its former administering department or even the Commission itself.This, it is argued, will promote economies; but it could also easily ensure long term dependency, and possibly facilitate amalgamations at a later date. While 'contracting in' may indeed be the choice of the yet-to-be-appointed Chief Executive of the new department, it would be reprehensible if such a critical management decision was to be mandated prior to his/her appointment. It would scarcely be in the spirit of the State Sector Act. Appointment of the Chief Executive is another matter meriting continuing close public attention. How senior positions in the new department are filled, and by whom, are decisions likely to be critical determinants of the organisation's immediate prospects for success. Filling the top job is, of course, ultimately the prerogative of the State Services Commissioner, albeit in consultation with Cabinet, but there must be proper recognition within the Commission of the uniqueness of the position, any attempt to insert a generic manager being resisted.

The new dawn will also demand a heightened awareness of obligations and responsibilities, as well as enthusiasm and a readiness to accept those obligations and responsibilities, in short greater institutional maturity, on the part of National Archives. Having been pushed up the public sector league tables, the new department will have to strive to establish credibility early, not only (but probably most critically) with its primary stakeholder, the government of the day, but also with other state agencies and the wider raft of community stakeholders. Assuming a new mantle of public recordkeeping leadership, for this is what will be required, will not be easy. Under the most propitious circumstances, any relatively small state organ allotted new and more important roles might expect to experience growth pains, crises of confidence. The pains are likely to be greater, the crises more frequent, in the case of an institution which historically has been chronically underfunded, and one, moreover, which has tended

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to be dominated by its previous administering department and largely ignored by many of the organisations whose recordkeeping it is statutorily charged to regulate. Moreover, it would be strange if the batterings of the past five years had not fostered elements of a laager mentality within the institution. But these natural institutional anxieties and self doubts must be speedily pushed aside. National Archives has been presented with a rare, and very possibly a narrow, window of opportunity. There has almost certainly never been a more sympathetic, certainly not a more informed, government. Public support for National Archives has never been stronger. The challenge for National Archives will be to reinforce the Government's confidence in its ability to exercise its allotted functions, while at the same time retaining, and building up, popular support. Achieving these objectives is likely to call for exhibitions of strong leadership and determination, as well as demonstrations of creative thinking. While borrowing, where appropriate, from overseas experience is only sensible, there must be recognition within National Archives that New Zealand situations frequently demand New Zealand solutions.

There is still obviously a way to go, with a number of tricky hurdles to be cleared, before the announced Hobbs blueprint for National Archives becomes reality. The ability of vested interests, public no less than private, to obstruct can never be underestimated. But natural caution, a caution perhaps born of past frustrations, should not detract from the very strong likelihood that May 2000 will come to be regarded as a major breakpoint when the history of archives in New Zealand is eventually written. For the first time a New Zealand administration has publicly acknowledged the importance of National Archives to the democratic process, as well as the fact that its unique constitutional responsibilities require it be accorded administrative independence. It might be claimed that stakeholders have played some part, perhaps even a substantial part, in bringing about this change in governmental thinking. But representations have to be listened to.They then have to be acted upon by those with the power to effect change. It will be Ms Hobbs and Dr Cullen, the former insisting that the latter's powerful behind the scenes support be noted, who will rightly go down as the architects (engineers?) who arrested National Archives' slide towards Third World status and brought administration of the institution into conformity with what may be regarded as true international best practice. They, and their Cabinet colleagues, are due the heartfelt thanks of archives supporters throughout this country.

B.P.

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χ

Archives of the N e w Millennium: Exploring the Archival Issues of the Early Twenty-first Century*

Barbara R e e d

Recordkeeping Systems Pty Ltd Woollahra, New South Wales

Thank you for your welcome. I'd like to briefly introduce myself. I am the mook, avatar or intelligent agent of Barbara Reed, who unfortunately couldn't be physically present at this conference. I have chosen to visualise before you as a hologram of a more youthful Barbara and hope that you will forgive any flickering or fading in my holographic presentation. Before I start, I'd also like to let you know that Barbara is connected to the presentation today and that I'll be teleposting any comments or queries to her for direct response as we go along. Barbara has authorised me to deliver the following text:

Thank you for inviting me to address the 65th annual conference of ARANZ. It has been a delight to be invited to present the keynote address and it's an additional pleasure to re-visit a country with family association; moreover, a country I haven't visited since last century. At that stage I was a physical person, not the virtual representation of my 80-something years before you today. As I approach my topic - a review of progress in archives and recordkeeping (a quaint old-world distinction I know) - I laud your collective endeavours to get into the theme of 'sailing (the) past' by wearing your distinctive turn of the century clothes!

So, from the standpoint of 2040, what has the past decade shown us about our professional image and achievements? This is, of course, a subjective analysis. Each of you will no doubt feel that I have overlooked a key project or outcome and I'd appreciate hearing your thoughts at the end of the paper. In that sense, looking backwards is almost as

* Text of Keynote Address delivered to the 23"1 ARANZ Annual Conference, Auckland,

9 July 1999

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dangerous as looking forwards - but perhaps not quite: the past, while subject to endless interpretations, has already happened. Today, let me highlight three particular matters:

• The comnet web storage project, with its emphasis on personal recordkeeping.

• The work of Ian Vestigator, together with the interesting questions of identity, authentication and transactionality raised by his revelations.

• The palimpsest archival exhibition/interface project; named of course in an ironic reference to the parchment days where scarcity of recording media encouraged the rubbing out of one text and its replacement by a subsequent one.

I've worked on each of these projects in an advisory capacity and, while I cannot speak on behalf of the project directors, I find that each of them raises questions that are fascinating for our profession. Each, I believe, reflects different facets of how we are deploying our professional skills.The projects all highlight our professional concerns, reveal attitudes and characteristics that have informed our professional development and ethical approaches and also point to future developments or opportunities.

Appraisal o f web-storage The first project I want to talk about concerns appraisal of the web-storage recently re-nationalised from the now defunct internet storage provider Comnet. The background to the project has already been written up in our major journals by the project leaders, so I'll only briefly outline the details. You will remember the re-nationalisation - it caused a big stir as the public argued the options and issues of public ownership of communications networks - an ironic return to those same debates of late last century. At any rate, the Comnet business was one of many reappropriated into public ownership. Comnet started offering on-line web storage in the early years of this century, as an alternative to personal and small business storage options. The success of the web storage venture took everyone by surprise at the time and by the transfer of control in excess of 75,000 petabytes had accumulated. Now that the government has control, the Archives has sponsored a United Humanities-funded pilot project to appraise 1% of the accumulation and assess the significance, or otherwise, of the material stored there.

" Initial findings indicate that this stored material is, as was suspected, quite a remarkable resource. The first attempts to scope the project

Archives of the New Millennium

found, stored amongst the corporate data, a surprising wealth of information relating to the everyday lives of individuals. This formed the basis of the pilot selection. A conscious decision was made not to focus on the corporate material. The rationale was that this was the responsibility of the businesses themselves. Conversely, the opportunities to work with private and personal records were considered to be far rarer. The materials appraised, selected almost at random from the first decade of the century, reveal some quite remarkable demographic shifts in our society since that time.

We already knew that the enthusiastic uptake of this form of public storage in the early decades was extraordinary and unexpected. One hypothesis for the pilot was that we should be able to trace the growth of the comfort levels of trust and digital literacy of the ordinary person. The material should allow a representation of the increasing levels of trust that people were prepared to invest in the technology, and also demonstrate that the patterns of use of the web-storage facility are directly proportional to that trust. Knowing that the encryption mechanisms were as stable as claimed, finding no invasions of privacy as was feared and that confidentiality was assured by the generally sustainable security, conceivably fueled adoption of the technology beyond expectations.

The findings to date appear to bear out those hypotheses. The project expectations are on track. What we've found is an amazing outpouring of unexpected personal communications, family correspondence, work-related material, school and educational notes and reports, multi-media playing and a range of other creative endeavours. Even the single percent of the material included in the pilot project shows the evolution of documentary form between the paper literate world of the twentieth century and the digital world that we know today. We can trace the intrusion of multi-media, shifts in technology, trends in technological uptake, as well as sociological and demographic indicators, all aggregate outcomes of what is also fantastic individually-flavoured social documentation.

Of course , from a recordkeeping perspect ive, the project demonstrates all the known horror characteristics of non-records compliant data sets. The project underlines all the issues of appraisal of electronic records that we know, and knew even back at the turn of the century. Retrospectively dealing with this material is a nightmare. The software dependencies of the data formats cause horrendous problems. Reconstructing the contextual metadata to enable understanding of the originators as provenance entities has been a lengthy and resource-intensive process.The forensic recreation of links,

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even where the decision was taken to treat the material within one creator's space as the 'record', is not straightforward.

There have certainly been some innovative steps in connection with this international, high-profile and well-funded project. Alliances with the software archive' companies have been consolidated, some of the project funds being allocated to supporting the continuing operations of defunct and antiquated software, as well as the documentation of software protocols. Similarly, there have been new commercial ventures identified and supported in start-up mode.

Two streams of work have been supported. The first is a set of component programs (called 'fix' bots) which seek to migrate the software dependent remnants. The original and the newly migrated bits are then bound together to reside in storage. The second is a set of component programs nicknamed 'undeading'.The undeading proglets crawl over data and extract relevant metatags, recreating as much of the contextual data and transaction history as can be patched together from the remnants. Highlighting the internationally collaborative and philanthropic nature of the project funded by the United Humanities grant, the component programs developed are required to be lodged or registered within the public domains of netspace.

The social, cultural and historical significance of this resource is undeniable, even by those critical of the project's operation. Similarly for the recordkeeping profession, long term spin-offs of this project are immense, being relevant for every individual archives and recordkeeping program - public, community or private. But, even with all the great things: • the multi-million dollar pilot project funding,

• the collaborative nature of the archival project staff involving representatives from every nation of the world,

• the fix' and undeading' bots available for general use,

• the commitment of the resurgent Microhard corp,

the chances of the pilot being extended to cover the remaining 99% of the accumulation are not great.

What the project has demonstrated for the first time, is that by deploying clever technology aligned with archival know-how, this retrospective approach is just possible, and that the rewards for rescuing such a rich resource may be much greater than were originally thought. With this high-profile project, its successes, its alliances, and its universal collaborative base, the stage is set for a repositioning of the nerd

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Archives of the New Millennium

archivist image still held by a disturbingly large proportion of our elite working classes.

Recordkeeping scandals The second area upon which I've chosen to focus concerns a particular scam and its implications, as revealed in the work of Ian Vestigator.You will all be familiar with the recent high profile investigative work into data scams, many with recordkeeping implications, for which Ian has become known. You may even have been visited by him or his avatar Sniff (his intelligent agent who, somewhat disconcertingly, visualises as a twitching nose). Ian's work helps us to focus on the dark side, a side we may prefer not to dwell upon but which we must constantly keep to the forefront of our professional understandings and analyses.

For those who don't know Ian, his Vestigator Report broadsheet is vital reading for all recordkeeping professionals. The most recent outcome of his work, now widely picked up by the mainstream media, is the spate of prosecutions spurred by his investigations into the corrupt dealings of the security services in the years prior to universal adoption of the encryption treaties. Those investigations revealed systematic abuse of the transaction data generated by all business transactions. Shonky practices detected included data hijacking, fraud and the siphoning of the smallest units of international currency into the hands of the cyber-mafia, where it accumulated to form large and untraceable sums of money. Working with forensic and regulatory recordkeeping specialists, Ian has built incontrovertible cases utilising the techniques developed in recordkeeping analysis of transaction history.

The specific investigation that I wish to highlight is more than usually close to home for our profession. It is a complex scam involving our authentication agencies. It unravels the edges of what looks to be a particularly nasty excursion into information warfare and controls during the 2030s. The genesis of the scam appears to be the use of netbots in the early part of this century to create false persona profiles which bear all the virtual characteristics of individuals on the net. The mechanisms used were designed as spamming or spoogeing agents to jam up communications capacities of news groups on the old Internet 1. The instigators of the scam set up cheap and disposable email accounts. The email protocols then carried the activated netbots into the specified location. The netbots crawled across newgroups, grabbing headers from messages and filling the contents with pre-set written pieces, or just grabbing the contents and reassigning new headers. The object of the exercise was to build up a profile which looked and

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seemed to behave in ways compatible with an individual operating on the net.With this profile, the spoogers then registered as authenticated transactors with the private authentication agencies. Thereafter, they conducted totally fictitious transactions and financial dealings. It seems that these spurious transactions reach into all areas of corporate and government operations.

Ian and Sniff have uncovered widespread and systematic problems arising from these false identities. Working out what is an authentic transaction and what is fraudulent is a major recordkeeping problem. Since the recordkeeping profession has finally achieved much-lobbied-for recognition as the transaction authenticator, I foresee a considerable amount of professional time being spent retrospectively re-authenticating transactions which are in question. To do this, our forensic archivists will need to make innovative and unprecedented use of the transaction data generated in the transmission, process and management metadata. Indeed, the lynchpin of our capacity to do this successfully will be the full exploitation of the use history and event history recordkeeping metadata, once derided by our information colleagues as being over the top. Proving the authenticity and reliability of transactions will be vital, and the consequences of any breach of basic protocols will remain with us for a long while. The careers and time of regulatory and forensic recordkeepers will be occupied for some considerable period as expert witnesses and investigators in the streams of legal cases already slated for hearing.

But there are other issues that should concern us about this case. The recordkeeping dimension of authentic transactions is but one implication of false virtual identities. The broader question of cyber identity must concern us also. Since recordkeepers have assumed social responsibility as transaction (or records) authentication agents, they must keep abreast of the possibilities of falsification and deliberate rule evasion.

Ian's work has revealed that this particular scam was known to internet regulators and the myriad of commercial authentication agencies around in the 2030s. A covert but concerted strategy of'killing' avatars and mooks took place during that time. It seems that this was sanctioned and even encouraged by the regulators. During the height of this problem, it seems that organisations of all kinds invested in what amounts to 'killing agents' whose express functionality was to destroy mooks and avatars which were suspected of having no physical manifestation behind them. The regulators even had a set of malware infiltrating transmission streams as a virus designed to covertly eliminate these cyber-representatives.

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Archives of the New Millennium

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I suspect that this is just one of the covert information warfare operations that will gradually be revealed as Ian pursues his investigations further. This one appears to have been operating under the authority of the internet regulators, with what we can assume to be appropriate motives - to protect the authenticity of transactions undertaken by authorised avatars and mooks. But the unleashing of this technology, its sanctioning by authorities, and the implications of covert information warfare are more disturbing.

The wholesale termination of millions of virtual identities during the 2030s by international government's Identifight program is now being uncovered. The extent of social disenfranchisement of those 'undone' during those times has never been fully revealed. Where is the line between reality and representations of reality? What constitutes sentience in virtual transactions? Is it the capacity to learn? When does an agent, avatar or mook become more real than the thing it purports to represent? What happens when these objects are turned into agents of destruction or déstabilisation? Who judges? Should such extermination software be outlawed? The digiterati are discussing furiously the potential implications of these revelations. The recordkeeping voice and angle needs to be clearly and persuasively advocated. But what is the recordkeeping community's opinion?

Some of the big questions are:

• Who gets to decide the rights of virtual existence?

• Who is able to actually destroy or kill virtual representations?

• Are corporations responsible for transacting business able to make these decisions, as they did during that time, or merely to bar entrance and interaction?

• What implications or consequences are felt by the person whose on-line representation is summarily terminated?

Recordkeepers have more than general interest in the resolution of the issues. We now have specific professional responsibility for ensuring that the transactions we authenticate are reliable. With hindsight, we can see that the formation of the Registrar of Cyber-Identity (a functional descendant of the Registrar of Births Deaths and Marriages) was a direct response to this problem. For the last three years mooks or avatars enabled to transact business for individuals have been required to be formally registered with the Registrar of Cyber-Identity. The establishment of the transaction authentication role at the same time as the identity registration role is again a logical outcome of this

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scary set of information warfare actions. Part of the framework of transaction authentication that is now standard is certification of identity from the Registrar of Identity.

But as this case is so clearly demonstrating, our professional responsibilities are bound up with these issues of cyber existence. As the professional group tasked with authenticating transactions, our recordkeeping professional domain extends into the heart of trustworthy and sustainable business.The stakes in this game are much higher and more critical than any professional role undertaken to date and we must guard against naivety in considering what is entailed in the administration and management of this role.

Visualising archives and records The third project that I wish to highlight is much more pleasant to contemplate. The palimpsest archival exhibition of the international archives uses the combined talents of the leading edge recordkeepers, intergraphic designers and data architects. This project has utilised software and thinking that sets a standard for all to emulate.

The exhibition is essentially a user interface to the archives of the world. Conceived to permit a self-directed exploration and display of items from the records selected for exhibit and under intellectual control of archives, the major technology deployed is what used to be called search engines or portals. By fully exploiting the metadata associated with records, which has been available in standard formats ever since the adoption of the recordkeeping metadata set and XML in the early years of this century, the exhibition finally shows the potential of visualising the relationships and records metadata.

The user interface allows people to access the exhibition from any medium. It is totally transparent to digital media. From a uniform front entrance point, the software invites the user to explore. What is different about this technology is that the software uses highly complex artificial intelligence nodes which 'learn' about the person entering the exhibition. Tailored views, presentations of specific records, individualised ways of approaching the material available all make for a totally unique experience each and every time someone approaches the archives exhibition - hence the name palimpsest, which has lovely parchment world overtones. Users are able to roam across all the material selected for inclusion in the exhibition.

The initial interface is based on data visualisation techniques which colour the interfaces and paths available. Each relationship is a potential pathway. Each pathway is indicated by a thread. Different coloured threads and different textures connote alternative ways of approaching

Archives of the New Millennium

material. At times the threads interweave and appear to be almost like a woven cloth. The path chosen is lit up. Backtracking at any time is possible using this method. Previously explored paths and those which lead to pre-defined places can be used to get to particular points. Indeed the exhibition idea is like following a particular pathway on a guided tour.

The technology builds on geographic and spatial metaphors - we can delve, drilling right down to a particular item or document, or scan a large horizon. Inevitably, the graphics are drawn from the paper world and tangible things. I find it fascinating that the designers have drawn on the concepts of labyrinths and crypts, building on descriptions of the British chancellery offices from the fifteenth century. To give you a sense of this, let me quote from the design document by the intergraphic designer:

I saw that the crypt was a vast labyrinth extending far beyond the chancel to encompass the area beneath the nave and then . . ., Chancery Lane and perhaps a good part of London too. Narrow corridors barely two feet in width and overhung by rolls of parchment - some as big around as saucers, others thin as pipe stems - slithered away into darkness on either side, then divided into other, equally cramped tributaries.1

With acceptance of the final proof of concept, the project now goes into full production mode. Access to the paper collections that have been digitised can be made available. Here, too, the technologies have been revolutionised. New techniques specifically linked to this project emulate the experience of reading paper files. Virtual reality interfaces allow page turning, and even riffling through files. There is a sense of the tactile nature of these objects, which while not the real thing, is the nearest we've ever come to projecting the pleasure of exploring paper files.

Developed initially to serve this exhibiting purpose, those of us who've been lucky enough to have experience with the technology can see that this approach to archival exhibitions has much greater application for recordkeeping work in general. I think that this technology, or extensions of it, will form not only an exhibition entry point, but will also be the major entry point for all users of the archives. Rather than relating to a specific exhibition, the ability to individually tailor will allow every person coming to the archives to structure their explorations through this interface. Of course, the role of the reference archivist will not be removed. Should such an expansion of the concept be realised, there will be way stations and rest points where the skills of experienced staff will be available to point out further tracks or

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extract searchers from dead ends. Initially these will be reference mooks (artificial constructs) but the capacity to interactively link with the human experts will also be there. It will also be possible to follow someone else's pathway - in the footsteps of their discoveries. The technology allows annotations and references from the various travelers and explorers to be accessed at signposts along the way. If, for example, we want to recreate the archival experience of Ian Vestigator, we should be able to do this (subject, of course, to the usual privacy protections).

Of course, all this capacity wouldn't have been possible without the rigorous and uniform adoption of metadata standards for records. The relationships and contextual links, so dear to our archival hearts, are there as the pathways for exploration, for the first time visualised as threads between individual records or sets of records. The threads are multi-dimensional, allowing vertical and horizontal exploration of all of our resource base. Where the track ends, or comes to a stop, there is an explanation from the metadata remnants of destroyed records, or the equivalent of the old paper forms of series registrations, to let explorers know why they have reached a dead end, and where and how to get to any existing non-digitised hardcopy originals.

Further development of this exciting technology will allow other archival institutions to link in their collections. Of course, as the systems and standard ways of documenting the records world weren't globally linked to the relational records documentation models, derived originally from Peter Scott's CRS system, until about 2020, records in some major institutions won't be able to be linked until significant data scrubbing and clean up are done. Interestingly enough, even those that have persisted in isolationist views of archival and records methodologies are coming to see the potential power of these technologies. The spin-off industry of exporting recordkeeping consulting expertise is also growing apace.

The interdesigners are also excited about the possibilities of what has been uncovered here. They are actively pursuing projects to make this technology the standard interface for all records use - even for those records not in the public domain.This is the true potential power of the technology and finally vindicates our professional view - that records are a limitless and always renewing information resource.

Indeed one can conceive of a new paradigm for information searching and that was the thinking (initially regarded with amazement by the designers) around building authenticity stamps for those resources which are verifiable records. Of course, this is less a problem now that the standard softwares automatically attribute metadata as transactions occur - but it provides some sense of security about what

Archives of the New Millennium

11

we're looking at from the dreadfully muddy days of the last three decades of the twentieth century and the first one or two of this century.

Concluding mus ings At last, we can see tangible results, with huge social and cultural spin-offs from so much of the sheer grind we all put into establishing recordkeeping infrastructure and professional understandings over the past half century. When we reflect, we can see that much was done on the smell of an oily rag, insufficiently resourced, against significant odds, and amidst, what at the time seemed like constant, internecine war amongst information professions jostling for prominence and pre-eminence in the digital world we now inhabit. Looking back, we wasted so much energy constantly asserting the unique perspectives of recordkeeping which make it such a distinct information viewpoint.

While my paper has deliberately focused on the up-side of the technology and recordkeeping, that we can do so with optimism seems in contrast to the doom-sayers of late last century. Then, I recall dire mutterings about the division of the profession, concern over the inability to keep the digital and the paper recordkeeping traditions and professional specialisations in harmony. It is a matter of professional approbation that we can now happily cross these media boundaries by concentrating on the principles of recordkeeping which unite all recordkeepers from Ancient Mesopotamia to today, with each society and culture adding value to our rich recordkeeping traditions.

Ah, but do you remember the problems that we encountered along the way in order to work out at the end of the paper age what we needed to fiercely hang on to as our professional rationale and what we could safely discard as a peculiarly physical way of doing something. The things that I think were vital in contributing to today's professional placement are that:

• Our educators and theoreticians could articulate the continuum of recordkeeping traditions,

• We separated concepts from practices and jettisoned paper practices where we needed to,

• We encouraged and enthused other professions to engage with us

• We reskilled ourselves,

• We contributed positively to an information management framework while still articulating - consistently and strongly - the distinct role of records as evidence of activity,

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• We incorporated an understanding recordkeeping into school-based literacy programs, and

• We protected our educational standards, even though this meant at times advocating non-conformist and non-traditional education delivery and accreditation methods.

While we've got something to be proud of in the last 50 years of our professional development, we cannot rest on these laurels. The dynamism of the projects I've outlined to you argues for even more innovative and flexible utilisation of our collective skills. The speed of technological change is just as fast now as it has been any time in the last 50 years. I look forward with curiosity and intrigue to hearing a similar assessment of where we are at the turn of the next century.

Acknowledgements

Archival influences Monash Recordkeeping educational programs and educators Frank Upward and Sue McKemmish; SPIRT metadata project; Chris Hurley, David Bearman, Margaret Hedstrom, Anne Picot, Glenda Acland, Luciana Duranti.

Science Fiction influences Dennis Danvers, Circuit of Heaven, Avon, 1999 Greg Egan, Permutation City, Millenium, 1998 William Gibson, Neuromancer, Harper Collins, 1995 Anne Macaffery Neal Stephenson, The Diamond Age, Viking, 1995 Neal Stephenson, Snow Crash, Roc, 1993 Bruce Sterling, Heavy Weather, Phoenix, 1995

Social commentators John Seely Brown, Chief Research Scientist, Xerox Pare Paul Saffo, Institute for the Future

1 Ross King, Ex Libris, Vintage, 1999, p. 314.

12

Redefining the Role for Collecting Archives in an Electronic Paradigm

Janine Delaney

Curator of Archives & Manuscripts Hocken Library, University of Otago

In responding to the challenges of keeping electronic records, corporate and government archivists have led the way. In the process they have overturned many long held assumptions about their professional roles and have re-evaluated their understandings of records and recordkeeping. Collecting archivists have yet to fully embark on this process of reinvention. The nature of the records creator/collector relationship, and the focus on keeping records for their social and cultural value, raises particular challenges. Collecting archivists need to formulate their own strategies to the 'prime directive'1 of keeping records and to add their perspective to the work already done.

Back to basics An underpinning to the work towards electronic records solutions so far, has been a process of professional review. Before they could begin to explore technological solutions to recordkeeping, corporate archivists found it necessary to question and reaffirm fundamental concepts, such as what is a record and what is the role of archivists in relation to records. The answers for collecting archivists have so far confirmed that one size does not necessarily fit all and has had the unfortunate effect of widening an existing division between the two professional sub-groups.2

As a first step, collecting archivists need to resolve this division between corporate and personal archives. Much has been written on the topic, but collecting archivists and manuscript librarians have still not reached a consensus. There have been a number of contributing factors to the basic confusion about their role, but the principal one is the confusion about records themselves.The evidential nature of records is often overshadowed in collecting archives by their informational value

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and interest as artefacts. Collecting archives need also to re-evaluate their methods before they attempt to apply them to electronic records.

Collecting records is a means to an end - not an end in itself . . . If collecting records is the best way of keeping them collections must be cherished. If collections get in the way of keeping records they must be jettisoned without a qualm.3

Sorting out a professional identity and mission is the first challenge for collecting archivists.

Assisted records creat ion and capture The next step for collecting archivists is to re-evaluate current strategies for acquiring the records of organisations, families and individuals, then to look at how these strategies need to change in the electronic environment. This process is overdue. Collecting archivists have observed already in the late twentieth century the impacts that other technologies and social change have had on the documentary forms which are the backbone of collections. The ephemeral transaction of the telephone, for instance, has made huge inroads into the practice of personal letter writing. Diary keeping has declined as leisure patterns and activities have changed. Collecting archivists must stop the personal recordkeeping erosion if they are to continue to serve the mission of keeping socio-historical evidence in the electronic age.

A conclusion reached by corporate archivists is that the traditional separation between creation and capture is not a viable strategy for electronic records. The same conclusion for the electronic records of individuals, clubs and societies is unavoidable. This has been the horns of the dilemma for collecting archivists, as their role is seen as inextricably linked to the end of the life cycle of the record, and indeed often to the end of the life cycle of the records creator. There is no obvious role for them in the process of creation, nor is there the prospect of a similar alliance to that corporate archivists are forging with records managers.

Another basic handicap to repositioning collecting archives in the new paradigm is the lack of a formal mandate to collect the material that they do. Unlike government archives, collecting archives have no statutory authority to ensure that the records of individuals and private organisations are created to approved standards or even kept for the good of society. This is not to suggest that such a mandate should exist, that would infringe basic civil liberties, but it does mean that collecting archivists must rely solely on powers of persuasion to bring about a significant change in their relationship with depositors. They can encourage and they can entice, but they cannot command. Adrian

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15

Cunningham has described the associated difficulties of this relationship in detail:

Negotiations to secure the transfer of records can often be extremely sensitive and protracted. It can take years, or even decades, to secure the agreement of a donor or their heirs.4

It is not surprising therefore that there have been problems accommodating collecting archivists in the continuum-based, post-custodial model that has emerged from Australia or in the business accountability focus of the University of Pittsburgh's project 'Functional Requirements for Evidence in Recordkeeping'.These doubts have been expressed by a number of leading commentators:

While it is possible to think of some ways in which archivists can connect in to the capture of personal records, and modify personal record keeping behaviour, it is difficult to see how they could play the sort of proactive, interventionalist part posited for them in corporate recordkeeping.5

As we move to 'reconnect archiving and recordkeeping' the traditional separation of collecting archivists from the process of records capture - which might be seen as definitive - seems to pose an insuperable obstacle.6

Overcoming this obstacle is the new challenge for collecting archivists. In order to ensure a continued place for the records of individuals in the memory of society they need to consider how they might play a 'proactive and interventionist' part in keeping electronic records.

Firstly, as corporate and government recordkeepers realised, traditional ideas and value systems are not necessarily an appropriate foundation upon which to formulate new strategies. Collecting archives do have an informal mandate from society or they would not be in business. The first strategy for collecting archivists is to gain a better, and ideally a shared, understanding of that mission, and how it is changing.

As a part of this, it would also be prudent to examine in greater detail the motivations behind the deposit of personal, family and organisational records in collecting archives. What is in it for donors? What compensates for the inherent loss of direct control, privacy and ownership that accompanies the deposit of records in a public archive? The answers may be as diverse as the depositors, but some factors are likely to be fairly common. For example, financial incentive; either through the sale of archives, indirectly from tax benefits (in those countries that offer them), or in the form of offset storage costs. Then there are personal incentives; the opportunity to memorialise oneself or family, and societal motivations; regional pride; the desire to

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contribute to the memory of society or the sum of recorded knowledge; sometimes respect for things old, for the artefact. Solutions to acquiring electronic personal records will need to satisfy such motivations, or to come up with new ones.

There has already been some work on identifying solutions, most notably in Australia by Adrian Cunningham. In a 1994 article Cunningham explored two potential strategies: transferring electronic records to paper, and targeting potential donors 'at the earliest possible time after it becomes clear from their achievements and activities that their records are worthy of preservation'. Transferring to paper was recognised as unsatisfactory, but Cunningham argued that it had value as a stopgap measure and was not incompatible with the record creating practices of individuals, a case in point being author's drafts in progress. 7 Transferring to a more stable medium as a transition strategy has also received support from other quarters. In his review of the National Archives of New Zealand Electronic Records Policy, Terry Cook noted that many office systems are still being used in ways that are no more advanced than 'fancy typewriters'. He considers the 'print-to-paper' option as a 'working reality during this transition period'.8 Most will agree that print-to-paper is not a long term strategy, but it may well linger as a Band-Aid' solution if collecting archivists do not entirely abandon the post-creation acquisition of electronic personal records and systems (or what passes for them).

The second strategy is closer in spirit to the proactive, interventionist strategies of corporate archivists, although it is based on the assumption that technological solutions for personal recordkeeping will have been found. Approaching authors, politicians, public figures etc. early in their careers is not in itself a new strategy. The twist is negotiating a prescriptive role for the archivist in the systems design and record creation process. It is here that research into depositing motives will pay off.This is in essence the strategy collecting archivists must pursue, but there are problems from the outset with it. Realistically a wide scale proactive electronic records programme is likely to be beyond the resources of many collecting archives. They are generally reactive or even passive collectors because this has been the only practical strategy.

Targeting notable people is also problematic. There may be a few individuals marked with greatness from an early age, but as Cunningham concedes, awareness of the potential of a donor generally comes after they have achieved something. If records preservation is dependent on this awareness then we will end up, at best, saving the records of the mature stage of an individual's career but inevitably losing the electronic evidence of his/her formative years.

16

Collecting Archives in an Electronic Paradigm

17

Nor does the strategy address the records of ordinary 'unremarkable' people, those who are the mainstay of collecting archives eg. soldiers who captured a different perspective on the realities of war in their letters home, household accounts, the diaries of settlers describing life in their new country. Personal records of this nature can have enduing evidential and informational value. That value may relate to a particular event ie. the testimony of one participant becomes part of the collective memory 9, or the value may be in the ability of the individual to represent the experiences of some facet or sector of society. These records also provide a vital balance to the official record created by the state. Capturing these records is therefore an important part of the collecting archivist's mission. Yet this type of record accumulator rarely comes to their attention until the records themselves are offered to an institution. They generally survive because of the donor's emotional attachment to the artefact. A separate strategy is needed to capture the records of 'ordinary' people.

An existing model worth exploring is the created documentation programme, for instance oral history, or documentary photography. These programmes have had plenty of detractors who see the involvement of the archivist in commissioning records as a distortion of the natural process of records creation. However, the following passage by Ann Pederson comes closest to describing an environment in which electronic personal records could be created and captured.

[The archivist] may even be said to be orchestrating the quantity and quality of documentation and is thus intervening to produce resources for future history which would not otherwise be available. In short, the archivist is responsible for materials which would never have existed at all without his conscious effort to create a record for posterity.1 0

It may be that notions of the 'archivist's neutrality' and a 'natural process of records creation' have to be finally abandoned in the electronic age. Chris Hurley challenged the life cycle archivist's stance of neutrality or disconnection with the records creation process most memorably, in a 1997 posting to the aus-archivists listserv:

So far as true recordkeeping is concerned, archivists and records managers are thus cast as cargo cultists looking up and waiting to catch records as they fall from the sky. Their task begins when the records drop into their arms. Questions like: How can I make a record of x? Should I make a record of x? are excised from their professional concerns. 1 1

Archifacts

So how might these strategies be implemented to ensure that a full and balanced memory of society is kept, and that it will support the ongoing need for evidence of that society?

Principally collecting archivists need to get actively involved in preserving the memory of society on a number of levels. Firstly, they need to target public figures as they come to prominence and negotiate and support recordkeeping contracts with them. Secondly they need to commission, or at least to facilitate, ad hoc recordkeeping projects along the lines of those conducted by oral historians. These will provide evidential depth around, for example, particular events, activities, experiences, localities or subjects. And, additionally, collecting archivists need to look for opportunities to gather the personal records of a cross-section of society, so that some form of representative (albeit voluntary) sample exists.

The capture of such as sample is likely to be even more controversial than created documentation programmes. It raises a number of issues: at what level of society should a sample be taken; what sampling methodology should be employed; who administers the programme; how is a programme sustained and funded? But such an enterprise could end up providing a more balanced body of socio-historical evidence than collecting archives have hitherto compiled. Large sectors of society have at various times in history been poorly represented in collecting archives, either because they did not keep written records, or because their experiences were not valued at that particular time in history. Archivists have striven to fill these gaps retrospectively, or to anticipate what new evidence may be needed in time to gather it. There is no such margin of error with electronic records.

There could also be other benefits in this type of strategy. A proactive interventionist role for archivists in electronic recordkeeping requires a major shift in focus from being curators to being consultants. The success of this lies in convincing not only ourselves but also records creators. Being seen to orchestrate up-front and public programmes of recordkeeping could be beneficial in dispelling the popular image of archivists exemplified below:

He was a real papyrus beetle . . . His hair was lank, and his skin had a grey pallor that might have washed off when he was younger, but was now ingrained. Even if he did not actually smell, he looked musty.

'Didius Falco, this is Canidius,' . . . 'Canidius keeps the legionary archive'.

I was right then. Canidius was a clerk with unpromising prospects who had found an offbeat job he could invent for himself.12

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Collecting Archives in an Electronic Paradigm

It should be stressed however that these strategies all presuppose that at some point recordkeeping capabilities become a standard feature of personal software. There is no shortage of information being generated on personal computers or posted on the Internet, the issue for archivists is whether any of it has the endurance and evidential qualities of records.

Appraisal c o n c e p t s The strategies so far discussed have focused on creating records to safeguard socio-historical evidence. Equally a part of the creation process, indeed logically preceding it, is the process of appraisal.13 This also needs to be re-evaluated as part of a more managed and purposeful approach.

In the life cycle model, appraisal is conducted after creation and generally on, or around, the point at which the records are physically transferred to the archive. As many commentators have pointed out, retrospectively appraising electronic records or systems is not feasible. Appraisal criteria need to be established before the records are created, and applied (automatically?) at the point of creation. Collecting archivists are therefore obliged to formalise their appraisal criteria and should be doing so in a broader context than just their institutional collecting policy. As Richard Cox notes:

Collecting has often been characterised by the acquisition of interesting and often valuable documentary materials by the examination of the records as they materialise rather than through broader appraisal objectives.14

In the same paper, commenting on Cunningham's model for the appraisal of private electronic records, Cox points to macro-appraisal concepts, and particularly to the documentation strategy which has emerged out of North America, as a prerequisite to a continuum model of appraisal.1 5 Cox summed up the relevance of the documentation strategy in a prior article:

Archivists can hardly begin to approach the documentary universe without some strategic or methodological frameworks for cutting that universe down to a manageable size.1 6

Certainly from those moving to a continuum approach to electronic records the emphasis is being firmly redirected from collecting to appraisal.17

This shift in emphasis to appraisal, and in particular to macro-appraisal, requires collecting archives to co-operate more actively than they may have in the past. Not only to ensure that they are not competing with each other, but also to work out a strategy of coverage

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that will eliminate existing gaps and respond to new ones. Cox's focus has been on documentation strategies for localities, which is understandable considering the size of the country in which he is working. But at some stage a national strategy or overview must also be developed. The work by Chris Hurley on standardisation to establish, through collective action, 'a single contextual framework within which all archival programmes could document records' 1 8 may lead the way.

An element of Cox's documentation strategy is the establishment of an ongoing advisory group with responsibility for, among other things:

convincing record creators to originate, retain, and appropriately administer historical and archival records, by developing their own archival programs or entering into depository agreements with collecting programs. 1 9

There is not too great a divide between this statement and the Australian post-custodial approach to recordkeeping, although for the records of individuals a distributed custody model may always be something of a 'red herring'.

Functional requirements A re-evaluation of collecting archivists' understanding of appraisal takes the process of reinvention beyond strategies for assuring the continued supply of electronic records for cultural/historical purposes to the essence of what we are being 'supplied' with, and for what purpose it is supplied.

As earlier noted, the question of what we are being supplied with' has always been a confused issue for collecting archivists. As a pre-requisite to implementing electronic recordkeeping solutions we must collectively define and articulate what a record is so that systems can be designed that will create them. Organisational archivists have reached a consensus which defines records (electronic or otherwise) as evidence of business transactions. Collecting archivists have been uncomfortable with this definition, and also with interpretations of 'evidence' which omit a cultural/historical dimension. But, as yet, they have not put up a more encompassing definition. As Adrian Cunningham comments:

A consensus appears to have emerged which defines a record in transactional terms. This counter productively narrow concept of a record is for me symptomatic of the corporate myopia afflicting many of today's archival theoreticians. It skirts the slippery concept of the evidential nature of records and excludes such non-organisational material as personal diaries and literary drafts, the recordness' of which to me is defined by their evidential qualities.20

Collecting Archives in an Electronic Paradigm

21

This is a fundamental area in which work needs to be done. The University of Pittsburgh's project 'Functional Requirements for Evidence in Recordkeeping' provides an excellent starting point. As others have pointed out, collecting archivists should be supporting a 'parallel Pittsburgh Project . . . to identify and articulate the functional requirements for socio-historical evidence' in recordkeeping.21 Collecting archivists also need to be involved in work on identifying and standardising metadata. Are there additional contextual or ambient layers which need to be specified for electronic records kept as socio-historical evidence? When do they get added, and by whom? The work of Barbara Reed on future-proofing metadata against changes such as individual competencies, business functions and language, so that it can continue to be accurately interpreted over time, 2 2 should be of equal interest to collecting as to corporate archivists. Collecting archivists should also be encouraged by the scope of the Australian research project 'Archival metadata standards for managing and accessing information resources in networked environments over time for government, commerce, social and cultural purposes'. Collecting archivists clearly do not need to reinvent the recordkeeping wheel, but they do need to be involved with the ongoing design. Adrian Cunningham again:

Not only do collecting archivists suffer by not absorbing and participating in these debates, the debates themselves suffer from the absence of our input . . . If a discourse appears irrelevant to your needs, do not just moan about it, get in and say your piece, do some research and impart the benefits of your experience.2*

Establishing the attributes essential to records is the first step to designing systems which meet recordkeeping requirements. This moves us into the key part of an electronic recordkeeping strategy that was touched upon earlier: persuading software companies to design systems for personal and organisational use which have recordkeeping capabilities.

Having enough clout to influence the IT industry looks insuperable, but yet the potential market for personal and organisational recordkeeping software is enormous. If we can sell the concept of recordkeeping to individuals, societies, community organisations, those who are our traditional archival allies, the demand they create for recordkeeping capability would galvanise the manufacturers. Archivists would ideally find themselves in the role of endorsing commercial systems. This is a strategy similar to the campaign by archivists, librarians and conservators to promote the use of permanent paper. The supply of approved recordkeeping software and professional assistance in establishing an electronic records programme could be, for clubs,

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associations and small businesses, the new carrot' that replaces the enticement of free storage etc. that collecting archives have traditionally offered.

Funders and providers This paper has focused principally on changing the relationship with records creators. Collecting archives need also to be aware of their relationship with funding/parent organisations, and how this may be altered by electronic recordkeeping approaches. Collecting archives are often part of a wider organisation, whether a library, museum, historical society, or local authority. This, it can be argued, contributes to the ongoing confusion about their mission. The values of the parent may be focused on related commodities such as information and artefacts and the evidential mission of the archives can be something of a hidden agenda. Archivists cannot assume that there will be wholehearted understanding, or immediate support, for their efforts to refocus on the evidential mission of archives and the importance of recordkeeping over collecting.

The issue of post-custodialism with regards to collecting archives is one that has so far been skirted. In the case of personal electronic records, a custodial role still seems essential, but the nature of that custody is unclear. It is another area of research in its own right. The archival boundary is not necessarily going to equate with that of an institution, or any sense of place, and the problems and expense of maintaining and managing electronic records point to co-operative approaches in the future.

The concept of a 'virtual archive' may not be immediately attractive to institutions which support traditional collecting programmes. Such institutions measure, at least in part, their return on their investment in terms of a tangible collection. This mind-set is evident in New Zealand. Increasingly archives are being required to value their collections, with the collections being reported as part of the assets of the institution. Ownership is one aspect of a physical collection which may not translate into an electronic equivalent. There is also the 'monopoly' value of having some 'thing' which is the only one of its kind and will attract people to the institution to use it (another measure). And, like depositors and archivists themselves, the emotional attachment of funders to artefacts should not be discounted.

Archivists must also redefine their recordkeeping role within their organisational context . A shift from being the keeper of the organisation's collection to a proactive role in the creation of other

Collecting Archives in an Electronic Paradigm

people's and organisation's records and recordkeeping systems needs to be negotiated carefully or the archive will lose support.

Conclus ion The paradigm shift brought about by electronic records is not one that collecting archivists can avoid, nor is it one where corporate archivists can be expected to produce a total solution. The collecting archivists' mission relates to keeping records of socio-historical value and in this they provide balance to the often more narrowly focused mission of corporate recordkeepers . The reconnect ion of archiving and recordkeeping will demand a repositioning of the collecting archivists' role in line with the records continuum model. The non-prescribed nature of the relationship with record creators will necessitate new strategies to achieve this. The first step towards the realisation of the virtual' collecting archive must however be a re-evaluation of the nature of personal records and the purpose of collecting archives.

1 Chris Hurley,'Beating the French', Arcbives & Manuscripts, vol. 24 no. 1 May 1996.

2 See Archives & Manuscripts vol. 24 no. 1 May 1996 issue on personal recordkeeping.

3 Chris Hurley,'Beating the French', Archives & Manuscripts, vol 24 no. 1 May 1996, p. 14.

4 Adrian Cunningham, 'The archival management of personal records in electronic form: some suggestions', Archives & Manuscripts, vol. 22 no. 1 May 1994, p. 97.

5 Sue McKemmish,'Evidence of Me', Archives & Manuscripts, vol 24 no. 1 May 1996, p.40.

6 Chris Hurley,'Beating the French', Archives & Manuscripts, vol 24 no. 1 May 1996,

p. 15.

7 Adrian Cunningham, 'The archival management of personal records in electronic form: some suggestions', Archives & Manuscripts, vol. 22 no. 1 May 1994, p. 101.

8 Terry Cook, Book Review, Archifacts, April 1998, p. 53-54.

9 Sue McKemmish,'Evidence of Me', Archives & Manuscripts, vol. 24 no. 1 May 1996.

10 Ann Pederson, 'Created and Compiled Documentat ion Programmes', Keeping

Archives 2nd Ed. Chapter 14.

11 Chris Hurley,'In the Agora', Archives & Manuscripts, vol. 25 no. 1 May 1997 p. 98.

12 Lindsey Davis, The Iron Hand of Mars: A Didius Falco Mystery, Crown Publishers Inc., N e w York, 1993. p. 29.

13 See 'Into the Agora' and 'The Record in the Manuscript Collection', pp. 55-57.

14 Richard J. Cox,'The Record in the Manuscript Collection', Manuscripts & Archives,

vol 24 no. 1 May 1996 p. 56.

15 Ibid, p. 55-56.

16 Richard J. Cox, 'Archival documentation strategy, a brief intellectual history 1984¬ 1994, a practical description', Janus, 1995:2 p.79.

23

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17 See Cox, 'The Record in the Manuscript Collection'; also Chris Hurley Into the Agora'.

18 Chris Hurley, Ambient Functions - Abandoned Children to Zoos', Archivaría, no.

40, Fall 1995.

19 Richard J. Cox, 'Archival documentation strategy, a brief intellectual history 1984¬ 1994, a practical description', Janus, 1995:2 p.88.

20 Adrian Cunningham, Beyond the Pale', Archives & Manuscripts, vol 24 no. 1 May 1996, p. 22,

21 Chris Hurley,'Beating the French', Archives & Manuscripts, vol 24 no. 1 May 1996, p. 16.

22 Barbara Reed,'Metadata: Core Record or Core Business?', Archives & Manuscripts,

vol. 25 no. 1 May 1998.

23 Adrian Cunningham, 'Beyond the Pale', Archives & Manuscripts, vol 24 no. 1 May 1996, p. 25.

24

The Census and Privacy in N e w Zealand: Do Privacy Concerns Justify Destruction of Name-Identified Census Forms?

R e x Sinnott* Wellington

The 1996 census forms will not be kept as archives as this census, to be held on 5 March, is being undertaken at a time of heightened privacy issues. Privacy legislation also places an obligation on agencies to ensure that each individual has an awareness of the purposes for which the information is being collected.

Media release, Statistics NZ, 18 December 1995

Government Statistician Len Cook's December 1995 public confirmation that individual census forms completed for the following year's Census of Population and Dwellings would not be retained once statistical information had been extracted was the culmination of a year of bickering between Statistics New Zealand and groups of researchers, most conspicuously genealogists, with the Chief Archivist being also an involved party.

While Mr Cook could claim that his statement exhibited a willingness to compromise - earlier in the year he had also wished to destroy the retained records from the 1966,1976 and 1986 censuses -his reluctant agreement that these earlier records could be kept did little to still criticism. Exchanges continued to be heated. The contesting parties publicly confronted each other at the 1996 ARANZ conference, relatively civilly outlining their respective viewpoints, but still without finding much common ground. This paper is an attempt to consider more objectively some of the questions raised in the course of the debates. At the same time, it will seek to determine whether, on the

* Rex Sinnott, a practising barrister and solicitor, is a former member of the Council of the New Zealand Society of Genealogists. The present paper is a shortened and slightly revised version of a longer study prepared in late 1996. While there has been no attempt to retrospectively include discussion of more recent developments, updates on the Canadian and Australian situations will be provided in the next issue.

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evidence available, the Government Statistician was justified in his decision not to retain the 1996 census forms.

Initially, general policy and practical issues surrounding the retention or destruction of individual census forms will be discussed. How these issues have been addressed in four other jurisdictions (Canada, United Kingdom, United States, Australia) will then be examined. Finally, the paper moves to a more detailed consideration of the decision to destroy the 1996 New Zealand census returns.

To retain, or no t to retain: s o m e general cons iderat ions A census is an enumeration of people, houses, firms or other important items in a country or region at a particular time.1 For the purposes of this paper, the term may be taken as referring to the national population census. The first recorded population census was in Babylon in 6000 BC, and the practice became commonplace throughout the Ancient World. The purpose was to control particular individuals - for example, to identify who should be taxed, or who should enter military service. The modern census, of course, is far more than a simple head count. It collects information about the basic structures and trends of society, and serves to present it in statistical forms suitable for the planning, administrative and policy development activities of government. In New Zealand, the stated purpose of the census is to measure the development of society, and to provide a basis for decisions about the country's social and economic future.2

While the assured confidentiality of census returns has long been recognised as an important factor in ensuring accurate and complete responses, the linkage of personal privacy concerns to the census is a much more recent development. Privacy is seen as an important personal right, as well as being relevant to compliance with the census. Increasingly 'privacy' and 'confidentiality' are used interchangeably, although there is a clear distinction between the two. In a study of the 1990 United States Census,'confidentiality' is said to be a desire to keep data given to one agent out of the hands of others, while 'privacy' is a desire to keep information about oneself out of the hands of others altogether.3 It has also been argued that the critical difference between a breach of confidence and the right to privacy is that the former is relationship-based whereas the latter is not. 4 There has been little research in New Zealand on the effects of privacy concerns on the accuracy or completeness of census returns.

Ironically, the very features of a census which make it a valuable administrative tool - being a comprehensive, periodic record of personal information - also make it valuable for other purposes, including

The Census and Privacy in New Zealand

medical, historical, social and genealogical research. These latter forms of research frequently require the searching out and linking of data relating to identifiable individuals. Such research uses are seen to conflict with the anonymity of the statistical use of aggregate data for administrative purposes.There are thus a number of competing tensions in determining just what retention/destruction policies should be: between archivists and a broad range of researchers arguing for retention, if with safeguards, and privacy activists demanding immediate destruction; between statisticians not needing identifiable individual data and researchers for whom aggregates tantalise rather than illuminate.

How are these tensions to be reconciled? At the highest level, legislation or executive government policy determines who makes decisions about the census, and within which statutory or administrative constraints. Historical precedent, especially if long established, can be a powerful influence against change. Other factors of major importance are social attitudes, public opinion - especially if the census becomes the focus of media attention - and pressure groups, either official or private. These conflicting viewpoints lead to a wide range of opinions on whether to destroy or retain the census.

A major argument for destruction advanced by some census collectors is the likelihood of non-compliance by respondents with privacy concerns. This may arise if the census form explicitly states that returns will be retained. It may equally arise from a belief that the returns will be retained. Another popular officials' argument is that the risk of non-compliance should not be accepted by a statistical agency which has no stake in the subsequent purposes for which the returns are being kept. 5 Other considerations said to favour the destruction of census returns include:

• Alternative sources of personal information are readily available, for example, electoral rolls and registers of births, marriages and deaths.

• The risk of disclosures (whether within the agency, by legal or judicial action or by unauthorised access) imdermines the faith of respondents in the confidentiality of the census.The longer the information is kept, the greater the risk of disclosure.

• For statistical purposes, there is no need for identifiable personal information.

• The purposes for which the returns are kept are uncertain, and the value of these purposes is unsubstantiated.

• The cost of retaining returns is high, and their longevity is uncertain.

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Φ Destruction of the returns is the best way to comply with the obligation of confidentiality arising from the mandatory nature of the census, as well as with privacy concerns arising from privacy legislation.

Obviously there are also strong counter arguments. Those in favour of retention contend that:

• The census is an essential source for genealogical research. Some information from the census is not available from other sources. Birth registers do not cover migrants or visitors; electoral roles include only those eligible to vote (eg no children are included). Neither electoral rolls nor telephone directories show ages, birthplaces or social relationships.

• The census is the only contemporary document which enables full analysis of family groupings. It facilitates research on family relationships and reconstruction of the past by analysing the individual in religious and social contexts.

• The census is among the most egalitarian of historical sources, including both the anonymous and the inarticulate, for whom it may be the only record of their life. Censuses include those explicitly excluded by other surveys, such as the armed forces, students and long-term residents of custodial institutions.

• The census is valuable for demographic, medical and social research. It may also be the only public record by which an individual can prove an entitlement, such as a pension.

• Statistical agencies have exemplary records for maintaining confidentiality. Thus there is no real threat to privacy from possible premature disclosure. Destruction is the wrong way to guard against misuse.

• Privacy of individuals is scarcely a factor if returns are released after 100 years, respondents to that particular census having long since died. The Privacy Act in New Zealand does not apply to deceased persons.

• The cost of microfilming is modest in the context of the overall costs of taking a census. The storage cost is negligible. Retaining returns maximises the value from a census.

In The Archival Appraisal of Records Containing Personal Information, a RAMP Study described by an Australian reviewer as 'one of the great pieces of archival theory of the nineties, Terry Cook argues that there

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are certain categories of personal information for which preservation is essential:

• Records proving civil status.

• Land registration records.

• Certain court and legal records.

• The national census of population.

Cook contends that: The national census is the single most essential personal information record in terms of both research for many disciplines and for genealogists, and of providing the core demographic information vital to the design, delivery and modification by the government of its own major programmes. Census data is of course very sensitive, and archivists must safeguard it from public disclosure until such time as the sensitivity has disappeared.6

Different countries have chosen to deal with these issues in very different ways, reflecting their varying histories and precedents and the relative emphasis placed on privacy considerations.

H o w o t h e r c o u n t r i e s h a n d l e t h e c e n s u s

Canada

History Regulations under the Privacy Act 1983 allow census or survey information under the control of the National Archives to be placed in the public domain 92 years after the conduct of that census or survey. This has resulted in copies of the 1891 and 1901 census microfilms being transferred to National Archives, where, together with earlier census records, they are now available to the public. Census forms from 1906 to 1986 have also been preserved on microfilm, but are still held by Statistics Canada. All of the original paper forms have been destroyed. In mid 1996 only part of the 1991 census had been microfilmed, but it was hoped to film the remainder when resources became available.

Privacy and confidentiality At first sight it would appear that the problem of resolving the competing interests of protecting of privacy, retaining an invaluable historical resource, and at the same time producing a high quality census, might be entrusted to the National Archivist. The Canadian Archives Act 1987 provides that 'no record under Government control

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shall be disposed of without consent of the Archivist', and that 'records which are in the opinion of the Archivist of historic and archival value shall be transferred to the control of the Archivist'.7 Certainly the Archivist has authorised Statistics Canada to destroy all 1996 census forms once they are no longer required for processing. This decision reflects the funding situation, and also the greater importance, from an archival point of view, of the decennial censuses. When this paper was being written no decision had yet been made on the disposition of future censuses. However, it was the view of Statistics Canada that if the decision was taken to retain records from the 2001 census in identifiable form Canadians would be advised of this at the time of collection.8

But the situation is far more complicated. Section 19 of the Statistics Act 1970 authorises Statistics Canada to take a census every fifth year. General issues of confidentiality and offences are covered in other sections of the Act. Section 18 provides for any returns made to Statistics Canada to be privileged, except in the context of prosecutions under the Statistics Act. Statistics Canada sees the strength of its legislation's confidentiality provisions as one of the most effective ways of ensuring willing co-operation of respondents, and especially so in the case of census where response is required by law.9 What the present Statistics Act does not provide is clear authority for the Chief Statistician to transfer census records to National Archives. Thus census records still in the custody of Statistics Canada, although retained for their historical value, will not be available to the public unless the confidentiality provisions of the Statistics Act are relaxed. There are no current or imminent proposals to change these provisions.

Since 1906 all Canadian censuses have been conducted with strict confidentiality provisions, the result of a pledge by then Premier Wilfred Laurier to the Northwest Territories - about to become the provinces of Saskatchewan and Alberta - that the findings of a special census would never be made public. Presently, only the person named in the record may have access to the retained information.10 The Office of the Federal Privacy Commissioner received a number of complaints after the 1991 census concerning the long-term retention of name-identified census forms.The Privacy Commissioner, after an extensive investigation, recommended the destruction of all personalised records from the 1991 census, as well as all other historical census records not yet in the public domain." This recommendation has not been accepted by the National Archivist. It seems likely, with researcher interest in the still held

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information clearly growing, that both the retention and access questions could soon become burning ones.

United K i n g d o m

History Since 1801 a census has been conducted in the United Kingdom every ten years, save in 1941. The pre-1841 returns have not survived, but the records of subsequent censuses have passed into the possession of the Public Record Office, although regular transfers from census offices have been implemented only in recent decades. The returns become available to the public after 100 years, when the confidentiality of the information is held to have expired.The period of closure is prescribed under the terms of the Public Records Act 1958, as detailed in the Lord Chancellor's Instrument No. 12, June 1966. 1 2

Each modern census is taken under the Census Act 1920. This measure provides for a census to be taken by Order in Council, with a minimum of five years between censuses. It further provides for the compilation of statistical reports from census data, and sets out penalties for unlawful disclosure of census information at any stage of the census operation.

Privacy and confidentiality The general United Kingdom law protecting privacy is the Data Protection Act 1984, but this focuses more on the regulation of computer processing. However, the Census Act 1920 has been updated by the Census (Confidentiality) Act 1991, which makes more specific reference to persons involved with census information and changes wording on penalties for disclosure. The Act ensures confidentiality by stating that the census may only be compiled into statistical abstracts (Section 4). Section 8 specifies the legal penalties for unlawful disclosure of census information at any stage of the census process. There are two exceptions to the confidentiality provisions: firstly, in respect of a prosecution under the Act, an inadequately completed form may have to be presented as evidence in Court; and secondly, a limited amount of information on a person may be released to that person, for example, to establish entitlement to a pension.

Concerns about confidentiality of data and the privacy of individuals grew in Britain, as elsewhere, from the 1970s.1 3 In 1971, public debate on census confidentiality and whether some of the questions constituted an invasion of privacy resulted in an increased level of non-compliance. However, the total was still less than 500 people. Surveys before and after the census indicated that an explanatory leaflet included with

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the census forms had contributed to a decrease in the level of misunderstanding about census purposes and confidentiality. Nevertheless, more than one third of respondents still thought the main purpose was to provide a record of people's addresses for the government.1 4 So, while developments in Britain's safeguards of census confidentiality are similar to those of other countries, the public is still not fully aware of these policies or their practical effect.

The census may now be used as a source from which to select samples for more detailed surveys, for which participation would be voluntary. In this case, those who completed census returns would be told of the possibility of being asked to participate in such a survey.

Studies on privacy concerns An early 1990s study analysed the two methods of releasing data -either in a tightly controlled setting or in a securely anonymised form - which might allay concerns about data privacy and confidentiality. The Longitudinal Study by the Office of Population Censuses and Surveys (OPCS) is of the former type, and relates to a 1% sample of the population of England and Wales. For the selected people, Jinks were made between their 1971 and 1981 census returns and also to other data held by the OPCS. The initial aim was to provide government with better information on occupational mortality, but demand has expanded from such internal use to academics, and more formal rules have evolved.

The OPCS has expanded the range of information available from the census by the use of longitudinal studies which use individual returns to link people, and censuses.This also involves using census data well before the time at which it is normally released, without prejudicing compliance or the public perception of confidentiality.

While there has been general recognition of the statistical and research value of the census, the initial reasons for retention are unclear. The principles of confidentiality result from a process of evolution and refinement, with no clear starting point.The OPCS, as guardian of census confidentiality and as the source of socially beneficial information, has found it possible to resolve the clash between its responsibilities by retaining full control of the data, and by strict monitoring of all longitudinal studies.

United States of America

History The first American national population census was conducted in 1790, and the United States Constitution requires a census every ten years

The Census and Privacy in New Zealand

for reapportionment of seats in Congress. Currently census forms are microfilmed during processing, with copies being transferred to the National Archives. Once processing is complete, the paper manuscripts are retained until any litigation over the census is resolved. They are then destroyed.

Collection of information was formalised through the adoption in 1954 of Title 13, United States Code - Census. Its provisions do not allow the Census Bureau to furnish information from the population records to anyone but the person named in the record, or their authorised representative. Information is to be used only for the purposes for which it was supplied. But it was not until 1976 that permission to furnish individual data to Governors of States and Territories was removed.

Privacy and confidentiality Concerns over personal privacy and confidentiality emerged only gradually in the United States. Earlier questions over American censuses appeared to be more concerned with information on property or business than personal characteristics.1 5 Privacy considerations were raised in 1940, the first year in which questions on personal wage and salary income were included in the census, but from the 1970s public disquiet was fuelled by the potential abuse of information in national databanks and invasions of privacy such as Watergate.

That concern over census records did not consolidate earlier is perhaps surprising, for in the United States there have been a number of documented violations of census confidentiality. In the nineteenth century the policy towards access was erratic. Then, during the First World War, the Justice Department, prosecuting men who did not register for military service, was given access to the original census records needed to prove the men's ages. It should be noted, however, that such use was not considered legitimate at the time and it should not be cited as a reason for non-compliance with, or destruction of, census records today. In 1921 lists of illiterate people were compiled and sent to several states mounting literacy campaigns. However, in 1930 a Women's Bureau request for information on the employment status of women in Rochester, New York, was refused. It is likely the authorised releases of individual data, then considered proper, would today cause a storm of protest. 1 6

The Privacy Act 1974 requires that federal agencies grant citizens access to their own identifiable records, such as census forms and tax records. It does not prohibit wider official use of identifiable data collected for statistical purposes; but census confidentiality is guaranteed by statute in Title 13 of the US code. This provides a single, permanent,

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complete law on census purposes and confidentiality.17 However, code 13 does not state how long confidentiality will last. Once in National Archives custody, such records as the census come under Title 44, the code under which that institution operates. By a 1952 agreement with the Census Bureau, microfilm copies of the population census are publicly released after 72 years. This is considerably earlier than Canada (92 years) and the United Kingdom (100 years). There is no mention of privacy in Title 13 or Title 44, and there must be many elderly Americans whose privacy is violated by the 72 year rule.

Increasing consciousness of privacy issues might be expected to impact negatively on census response rates. However, a 1991 analysis of causes of non-response to the 1990 United States census concluded that there was no clear answer to attitudes to confidentiality. Further, violation of privacy was not linked closely to confidentiality, but appeared to relate more closely to other negative attitudes about the census. A subsequent study indicated that while concerns about privacy and confidentiality may have impacted on mail returns for the 1990 census, the impact was not great and varied for black and white respondents. The researchers observed that while for some officials it had become ' . . . an article of faith that people will not respond honestly, or at all, to surveys, unless assured of the confidentiality of their replies - evidence for this belief is modest at best' . 1 8The study concluded that under some circumstances an elaborate assurance of confidentiality could even be counter-productive, the heightened awareness promoting reluctance to respond.

These findings are supported by analysis of responses to the 1990 census in the Outreach Evaluation Survey (US Bureau of Census 1990) and Survey of Census Participation (NORQ.Their conclusions were that there was no evidence of a decline in confidence in the Census Bureau's assurance of confidentiality, notwithstanding that opinion surveys independent of the Bureau had noted a substantial increase in concerns over privacy. As far as confidentiality is concerned, the crucial variable appears to be trust in the integrity of the data-collection agency, not the nature of any assurance given to respondents. Indeed, as an executive of the American Civil Liberties Union has noted, the Census Bureau has a history and track record of maintaining the confidentiality of census data'. 1 9

Australia

History While there were population counts as early as 1788, the first national census of population and housing was not taken in Australia until 1911.

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This was under the direction of the Commonwealth Bureau of Statistics, set up under the Census and Statistics Act 1905. The Commonwealth Bureau was renamed the Australian Bureau of Statistics (ABS) in 1975. Since I96I there has been a census every five years, becoming mandatory after a 1977 legislative amendment. Population estimates are used to determine the number of seats allocated to each State in the House of Representatives, and in allocation of Commonwealth grants to State, Territory and Local Governments. 2 0

It has been official policy to destroy census returns once statistical data is extracted. Until enactment of the Australian Archives Act 1983, the Australian Statistician and the responsible minister had unquestioned responsibility for the disposal of the returns. 2 1 However, the Archives Act states that Commonwealth records cannot be destroyed unless:

• It is required by law.

• There is approval by the Australian Archives.

• It is in accordance with normal administrative practice not disapproved of by Archives.

The importance and sensitivity of the census makes it inappropriate for the disposal to be considered normal administrative practice', so responsibility for authorising destruction devolves to the Archives under Section 24 of the Archives Act. In practice, Australian Archives and the ABS have co-operated closely in appraisals of the 1986 and subsequent censuses. Destruction was authorised by the Director-General of Archives, but the recommendation on the 1991 census returns was at least equivocal. The decision to destroy census records has, at least until recently, been endorsed by most politicians.22

Privacy and confidentiality The ABS clearly has an obligation to comply with the Information Privacy Principles in the Privacy Act 1988. Clearly, also, the census has regularly attracted criticism. In 1971 the requirement that names and addresses be supplied was highlighted. In 1976 there were public criticisms of the length of the form, and the sensitive nature of some of the questions.The number of refusals increased sixfold between 1971 and 1976.

A public attitudes survey conducted by the ABS in 1981 indicated that significant numbers of respondents objected to the census, and that even more believed that it was not confidential.23 However, in the census held that year, a positive public relations campaign contributed to a reduction on undercount from 2.6% to 1.9%. Later censuses have continued to emphasise the need for public relations. The need to

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educate the public about the value of the census is seen as a key objective, but less prominence is given to the confidentiality provisions. Significantly, when the 1991 census was taken a large proportion of the population . . . [estimated as up to 80%] . . . did not believe that the census data was kept confidential, yet co-operated in the provision of that data.'24

Studies on privacy concerns That census data may have wider research uses had been long recognised by the Australian Law Reform Committee. For example, in its 1979 report Privacy and the Census, the Commission noted two genealogical studies using early Australian census returns which had assisted doctors with the treatment of descendants of early settlers with genetic disorders. The Commission was then of the view 'the present practice of destroying identified census information prevents the formation of a vital database in identifying and combating genetic disorders.'2 5 Such a use of the census, not being a purpose of the collection of the data, would now be a breach of the Privacy Act 1988. The Commission also noted that American studies by Thernstrom, who acknowledged census schedules as his main database, had significantly altered the understanding of American social life, particularly urban social life in the nineteenth century. Reflecting on the origins of the Australian policy of early destruction of schedules, the Law Reform Commission noted: 2 6

The practice [of destruction] appears to have been based on administrative convenience and was originally followed in apparent ignorance of the research value which census information might subsequently possess. Insofar as it is based on privacy considerations, the practice appears to have commenced in 1971 as a result of Ministerial direction and without detailed inquiry or informed public debate. . . The fact that the post-1971 Australian practice has no counterpart in closely comparable countries might itself suggest that the burden of proof is on those who wish to destroy, rather than those who wish to retain, identified census information.

The Commission stressed that establishing a satisfactory level of confidentiality does not necessarily imply destruction of the forms, saying that there was no empirical support for the proposition that the validity of responses would be seriously affected if the guarantee of confidentiality included availability for later limited research.

The Law Reform Commission also addressed the proposition that preservation of the schedules might encourage misuse by some future government. It observed:

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The protection of individuals in society against massive misuse of information of this type lies in the constitution, in the political system and in shared social values, not in the destruction of census records in a futile attempt to deprive an aberrant government of the means of discrimination.

After weighing the evidence before it, the Commission came to the provisional view, but one not modified in its subsequent report on privacy,27 that identified census information should be retained; and that valid privacy interests could be adequately protected by imposing strict confidentiality conditions on the storage of census information.28 It must be recorded that this position was not supported by the Chairman, who believed that it was a matter for Government and Parliament to consider. The government of the day chose not to accept the Commission's recommendations. 2 9

That by the early 1990s Australian Archives'attitude to the destruction of census schedules had become equivocal, to say the least, has already been suggested.A 1991 evaluation of name-identified records observed:

The climate of public opinion in Australia in the past has strongly influenced the views of the ABS and successive governments that personalised data from the census should not be retained.

However, Australian Archives concluded that there was no direct evidence that other countries which retained the census had experienced difficulties in justifying the practice in terms of privacy implications. A later Australian Archives report noted that public opinion could change over time, and in the view of archives professionals there was already a groundswell in favour of permanent retention, perhaps with a closed period of 70-100 years. 3 0 There was a growing belief that legitimate privacy concerns could be met by a retention regime similar to that instituted in the United Kingdom and the United States.

Perhaps not surprisingly, other officials, and in particular officials connected with the ABS, remained unconvinced. In 1991, in support of the destruction policy, a former Australian Statistician, Ian Castles, argued that the destruction of census schedules by countries such as Germany, Italy and Japan simply reflected their earlier experiences under totalitarian regimes.31 He did not, however, advance clear reasons for preferring the policies of these countries to those of democracies more closely linked historically to Australia. Furthermore, the German position owed much to recent attempts to legislate wider use of name-identified census data for administrative purposes. 3 2 Then, in a 1995 address to the Australian Archives Council, Australian Statistician W. McLennan referred back to an earlier Australian Archives view that:

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the degree of public sensitivity attached to the census in other countries can give no indication of similar reactions in the Australian context, because of differing social conditions, social attitudes and policies which make each country unique unto itself.33

He agreed with this view, justifying ABS's continued support for destructions with an argument that 'co-operation in the census, and indeed in most statistical collections, is higher in Australia than in most other countries.'3 4 It was implied that this was a direct outcome of the destruction policies. A comparison of Australian and British results does show a marginally better result in Australia in recent years, but there is insufficient data to sustain conclusively the argument. Mr McLennan also challenged the likely extent of the use of schedules for medical purposes. ABS had spoken to health researchers and epidemiologists encouraging research proposals - but had received none. From his personal experience in the United Kingdom, he concluded that there has been no significant discoveries based on such research. The submissions received from genealogists and family historians were short on specific details on the nature of the research. On the other hand, government bodies with responsibilities to protect privacy were strongly opposed to retention.

It is arguable that, by excluding overseas comparisons, by insisting on the uniqueness of the Australian historical experience, the Australian Statistician, and others, have fostered a narrow and not unbiased approach. Notwithstanding Mr McLennan's contentions, there is considerable evidence of the value of census records for medical research.35 As much is acknowledged by Australian Archives which noted as early as 1988 that:

. . . it is perhaps the use of techniques such as record linkage, and the prospect which it holds for improving the medical circumstances of Australians, which provides the most compelling and practical reason for re-examining attitudes to the question of retaining census records indefinitely.36

This view has been confirmed in subsequent Australian Archives papers and publications. A bibliography of overseas research uses of census records lists 50 examples of medical research. The Australian Institute of Health has testified that the use of census data would bring significant benefits to subgroups of the population suffering from rare diseases. 3 7 The bibliography also lists 78 examples of non-medical research use, including studies of demographic and sociological, as well as of a purely historical, character.

Australian Archives has an exemplary record in keeping important information safe - but ABS advice to the government continues to cite

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the reduced integrity of the census if name-identified information was to be retained.3 8 The policy of destruction does not go unopposed. In addition to researcher pressure, there have been glimmerings of political interest in the issue. In 1994 the Democrats indicated party support for a proposal that census forms be retained, with access being provided for specific research purposes after 70 or 100 years. Individual members from other parties have also expressed support for reconsideration of existing policies. In October 1996,Stephen Mutch, the Liberal Member for Cook, moved in the Australian House of Representatives that the matter be referred to the Standing Committee on Legal and Constitutional Affairs.

The Census i n N e w Zealand

History New Zealand's first official census (which did not include Maori) was ordered in 1851, when New Zealand was divided into the provinces of New Ulster and New Munster. Two years later, when six provinces were created, each held its own census between 1854 and 1855, but the lack of uniformity made national results unreliable. Between 1858 and 1878 three-yearly censuses were taken of the whole country. From 1881 five-yearly censuses were introduced, these continuing to the present day. There was no census in 1931, because of the Great Depression, nor in 1941 because of World War Two. 3 9

The individual forms for three censuses only have been retained -1966 on microfilm, and the original 1976 and 1986 census forms. That these have been preserved is the direct result of a 1965 agreement between the Chief Archivist and the Government Statistician that the records of every second census be held. The present Government Statistician's initial proposal that the 1966 - 76 - 86 census forms be destroyed did not proceed, but the 1996 census forms are to be destroyed after processing. This is by the unilateral decision of the Government Statistician, citing privacy concerns. The Chief Archivist would have preferred a different decision for 1996, but accepted that legally ultimate responsibility rested with the Government Statistician.40

The Statistics Act 1975 provides for a Census of Population and Dwellings to be taken by Statistics New Zealand. The Statistician is responsible for the security and disclosure provisions for the census. 4 1

The Act does not directly address the disposal of census returns. Under Section 37, information furnished to the Statistician under this Act is only to be used for statistical purposes. Security is ensured by prohibiting anyone except departmental employees from seeing individual schedules (except for a prosecution under the Act).

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Nevertheless, section 37D allows for documents, including individual schedules, which have been the subject of an agreement between the Statistician and the Chief Archivist, to be released into the Archivist's custody after 100 years, notwithstanding anything else in section 37. The intention of Parliament is not easy to discern, but overriding the security provisions in Section 37 would not be done lightly. There must have been some intention that Section 37D would be used in appropriate circumstances, or else it would not be in the statute.

Section 8 of the Archives Act 1957 empowers the Chief Archivist, subject to administrative and secrecy constraints, to have public archives transferred to National Archives. A public archive must be a public record, but Section 3 expressly excludes from the Archives Act any public record coming under the secrecy provisions of Section 37 of the Statistics Act. This effectively leaves the power of decision over census records with the Statistician. There is no compulsion on the Statistician to use Section 37D, nor is that officer provided with any legislative guidelines in this regard.

Privacy and confidentiality The first New Zealand statute to deal with personal information was the Official Information Act 1982 (ΟΙΑ). Census data is official information, but any request for access under the ΟΙΑ would be refused as being contrary to the provisions of a specified enactment,4 2 and once in Archives custody it is no longer official information.4 3 Personal information privacy is now regulated by the Privacy Act 1993- The Act sets out twelve Information Privacy Principles (IPPs) which must be taken into account in all spheres of activity, both public and private, in New Zealand. The Act is based on OECD guidelines, which are also the basis for data protection statutes in Europe, Australia and Canada. The Government Statistician has stated that the Privacy Act must be taken into account as legislation affecting the taking of the census. 4 4

The Privacy Act covers personal information about an identifiable individual, an individual being defined as a natural person other than a deceased person. For the present discussion, there are several critical principles. 4 5 Principle 3 states that the individual should be informed of the purpose for which the information is being collected at the time of collection, but this does not apply to information collected before 1 July 1993. Principle 9 states that information should not be held for any longer than necessary for the purpose for which it was collected. Principles 10 and 11 state that information collected for one purpose should not be used or disclosed for another purpose, unless that purpose is directly related to the original purpose. This of course does not apply to information collected before 1 July 1993-The principles

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are not directly enforceable in court. 4 6 However, any interference with the privacy of an individual, involving breach of a principle and a specified detriment to the individual, can be adjudicated in court. The courts have the power to grant remedies.

The retained 1966, 1976 and 1986 census schedules fall within Principle 9. As one of the purposes, pursuant to an agreement between the Statistician and the Archivist, was to release the returns to the Archivist after 100 years, this principle has been complied with. Principles 3 and 10, while not applying to census information collected before the passing of the Privacy Act, are relevant to the retention of later returns. The proposed medical, demographic, social and genealogical research uses are not related to the main purpose of the census, so therefore contravene Principle 10, unless the individual is informed at the time of the census that such other uses are intended. Principle 11, disclosure, is limited to the period when a person is alive, as the definition of individual does not extend to deceased persons. The New Zealand Society of Genealogists (NZSG) has suggested extending the release date to 110 years to be sure that the privacy of centenarians is not breached.

If the 1996 or later census forms were to be retained without regard for the privacy principles, there could be breaches of Principles 3 and 9· However, while the forms were retained in secure storage it would be unlikely that any individual would suffer detriment. Section 7(1) of the Privacy Act clearly states that nothing in Principle 11 derogates from any provision authorising personal information to be made available; and under section 7(4) an action does not breach any of the other principles if the action is authorised by law. There is no conflict with the Statistics Act section 37 (release for statistical purposes only) or 37D (release after 100 years, when respondents will almost certainly be deceased). In any event, the provisions of the Statistics Act have priority over the Privacy Act principles, and release of census forms to the Archivist after 100 years cannot be challenged. The release by the Archivist into the public domain is also authorised by law, 4 7 so centenarians whose privacy is breached, and who suffer detriment, have no redress via the Privacy Act.

Policy The Government Statistician, Len Cook, has stated that the Minister of Statistics will not interfere with the operational processes of Statistics New Zealand, but that on matters of policy the Statistician would defer to the Minister. Mr Cook considered that the retention of records was clearly a policy matter.4 8 The Minister of Statistics in 1996, Maurice Williamson, fully supported the Statistician's decision to destroy the

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census forms. He believed that genealogical and other research requiring access to individual information was of insufficient importance when balanced against individual privacy considerations. However, the Minister declined to indicate if his position reflected National Party policy.49

Other politicians consulted in 1996 indicated very different approaches. Jonathan Hunt MP, then Senior Opposition Whip, and incidentally a member of the NZSG, was totally opposed to the destruction of census records. He stated it was the view of the Labour Party that such records should not be destroyed.5 0 New Zealand First had no official party policy on the census, but a spokesman considered the party to be 'relaxed' about the current policy.51 Nor did the Alliance have a considered policy. Spokesman Grant Gillon acknowledged that privacy issues had to be balanced against the historical importance of the records, but felt that any decision was more one for Parliament or a committee of Parliament.52

Given the divergence of opinion between politicians and parties, the advent of MMP, and the uncertainty of political alliances in the new environment, future government policy cannot be predicted. However, the need for compromise or consensus to maintain political power could produce a policy leading to a different decision by the Government Statistician.

Analysis — policy and practical considerations

1. Privacy By any measure, New Zealand is a latecomer to concerns over privacy in relation to the census. Yet, officials have not necessarily learned from experiences elsewhere. For instance, at the height of the controversy over the 1996 census, the Privacy Commissioner baldly stated:5 3

It is more important to get a 100% response to the census than to keep records for hundreds of years to enable prying into the lives of people who were compelled by law to give their details on a solemn promise of confidentiality.

The impact of these strong words is lessened by the inaccuracies -the census goal of 100% has never been achieved in practice, in any country, and no studies of alternative uses of the census suggest that prying is a motive.

In a submission to the Government Statistician, the New Zealand Society of Genealogists queried the argument that the legal requirement to complete the census forms created privacy problems. The submission pointed out that the Privacy Act does not apply to deceased persons, hence there was likely to be no privacy issue if census returns were not released for up to 100 years.5 4 Admittedly, this argument failed to

The Census and Privacy in New Zealand

address the Statistician's point that, under the Privacy Act, information can only be used for the purpose for which it is collected. But that objection could be overcome by stating on the census form that archiving for future research is one of the purposes of the census. That would remove any inconsistency with the Privacy Act. However, the argument then returns to the original contention of the Statistician: public co-operation with the census will be compromised if the records are retained.

In 1996, prior to the census being taken, Statistics New Zealand argued that, with the census documents already printed, further actions to archive the 1996 Census, actions consistent with the obligations of the Privacy Act, were no longer practical. This raises the possibility that the implications of the Privacy Act, which came into force on 1 July 1993, were not fully realised until after the census forms were printed, between August and December 1995.

What is beyond question is that there was little public reaction to the retention of the 1966, 1976 and 1986 censuses. Certainly, the lack of publicity may have been a factor, but on the other hand there has been no public outcry over the privacy implications of the 1965 decision to retain a comprehensive archive of personal information once this became more widely known. With greater public awareness of privacy issues, the situation might have been expected to be different. This would be Statistics New Zealand's argument, but firm supporting evidence has yet to be produced.

2. The primacy of the statistical function

In support of its policy position, Statistics New Zealand states: It is the unqualified guarantee of confidentiality protection that gives the population census its remarkable compliance rate, which is among the best in the world, as well as its lifetime benefits to community and government decision-making."

This claim, too, is open to question. The actual undercount in New Zealand has not been measured in the past, and there is no indication in the results from those other countries which retain census returns that their levels of compliance have been greatly affected by this policy.

Possibly surprisingly, the Statistics New Zealand view has been endorsed by a former New Zealand archivist. In a 1992 journal article Mark Stevens wrote:

A statistical agency which agrees to preservation of name-identified census records is thus accepting a risk which could lead to major problems in carrying out its prime function of gathering national statistics, in order to achieve an objective (future family history and other unspecified research) in which it has no stake (my emphasis).56

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Stevens too easily dismisses other potential research uses. He demonstrates little awareness of overseas medical research, or the involvement of OPCS in the United Kingdom in Longitudinal Studies. The risk of problems has not been borne out in other countries where confidentiality of records has been consistently maintained.

3. Public Confidence

The reputation of the agency holding information is of critical importance to public confidence in assurances of confidentiality. Statistical agencies worldwide have exemplary records in this respect. As Choldin, in a 1988 study of the pressures imposed on statistical agencies by privacy considerations, notes:

The statistical agencies came to the privacy issue with exemplary records of data protection, developed before there was such a term. It has not been shown that individuals have been injured or are likely to be injured by statistical agencies' data files. Thus the statisticians are innocent victims of current events. 5 7

Confusion may arise, however, when the public fails to recognise statistical agencies as distinct from other branches of executive government with less impeccable records of maintaining confidentiality.

That public confidence would be eroded by any suggestion of retention appears to have been simply assumed by Statistics New Zealand. Even suggestions that legal difficulties might be overcome by including a clarifying statement on the census forms induced a nervous response from the statistical agency:

There would be a negative impact on public response to the 1996 census if every census form were to have on it a statement that census records could be released to the public in 100 years, as would be required under the Privacy Act 1993. 5 8

But, as the Government Statistician himself has admitted: We have no firm evidence that archiving has caused people not to respond to the census.

Questions may also be raised over the Government Statistician's contention that:

The Privacy Act 1993 gives us a new set of rules for assessing privacy concerns.

These rules are useful as guidelines where legislation is permissive only, but they do not override mandatory provisions.

4. Genealogical research

In contrast to NZSG claims of the value of the census, Statistics New Zealand believes that alternative sources should satisfy most needs.

The Census and Privacy in New Zealand

While it is true that there are now many alternative sources of information for genealogical research, the census remains unique in providing a 'snapshot' of the entire population at one time. It provides information about family relationships and ages which may prove difficult, if not practically impossible, to find in any other legal documents. 5 9

5. Demographic and Social Research

Nearly 35 years ago the then Chief Archivist, John Pascoe, expressed the view that the census schedules could form an essential background to studies of the lives of communities, as well as the values and material conditions of different social groupings. He expressed concern about New Zealand's failure to provide scholars of the next century with one of the most useful sources for their researches. It was in recognition of this failure that agreement on the preservation of every second census was reached. 6 0 Modern researchers may equally point out that important social influences in New Zealand life - the demise of milling towns, the migration of Maori to cities - cannot be properly researched by access to a database devoid of names and addresses. Nevertheless, it must be admitted that there is as yet little evidence of pressure for studies of social conditions such as that carried out by Thernstrom in the United States, which used census data extensively.61

6. Medical Research

Recent New Zealand papers on the genetic risk of disease and on colorectal cancer have emphasised the importance of a family pedigree as an 'essential' part of the investigation of disease.62 Many overseas studies have demonstrated how medical research can be assisted by identifying environmental or hereditary risk factors associated with individuals. Yet, even if the 100 year limit on transfer of census returns to the Chief Archivist be agreed to, the tracing of descendants of an individual with a genetic disorder, or warning of a previously unknown environmental problem, such as cancer caused by smelter emissions, may not be possible without research on more recent censuses. While this is now recognised overseas (e.g. OPCS Longitudinal Studies) there is no similar provision in New Zealand law.

To undertake medical research using identifiable returns it is not enough to advise census respondents of this purpose in order to comply with the Privacy Act. The Statistics Act would need amending to permit this non-statistical use of census data, and to ensure retention of the census at regular intervals. It may be noted that a Disability Survey was proposed by Statistics New Zealand for late 1996, using information

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from individual census returns to locate likely participants. Those completing forms were advised of this on the 'Individual Help Notes' supplied.6 3 The survey was specifically authorised by the Minister64 and the Privacy Commissioner was consulted to ensure compliance with the Privacy Act. It is surely straining the clear language of section 37 of the Statistics Act to say that the selection of named individuals for such surveys is a 'statistical use', even if the results will eventually be reported in statistical form. This particular use of individual returns does not require retention, but it recognises the wider value which can be extracted from returns consistent with privacy principles and without compromising confidentiality.

7. Cost of Preserving the Census

In further justification of its position, Statistics New Zealand has argued that storage costs constitute a valid reason for not retaining census returns. 6 5 Somewhat incongruously, the Privacy Commissioner also embraces this argument, solemnly intoning: 'and of course the storage costs for paper records will run into millions of dollars'.6 6 The Privacy Act, Principle 5, requires the Commissioner to look at the reasonableness of demands on business in relation to storage or security of personal information when the issue is raised. But in this case the Commissioner gives no basis for his claim, and he does not appear to have even considered possible alternative storage methods. 6 7

There are certainly problems of cost in preserving paper records in good condition for long periods of time. This is recognised in jurisdictions where microfilming has been used for many years, notwithstanding some questions over the longevity of the medium. Relatively, the costs of storing a census on microfilm are negligible, and the social benefits which might result from preserving census information in this form would be worth the sums involved. Modern technologies, such as document scanning and storage on CD-ROM, have the potential to further decrease costs and increase durability.

8. Potential disclosure of retained census returns

There have been no reported instances of security breaches in New Zealand. The secured retained census returns remain accessible only to Statistics New Zealand staff. In comparable countries, executive and judicial attempts to gain access to census returns have met with little success.

Currently, the most feared type of unauthorised access is by computer hackers. 6 8 Only anonymised records are kept on computer in New Zealand, and this is also the standard policy overseas.

46

The Census and Privacy in New Zealand

Conclus ion The census can be viewed narrowly as a statistical survey. Alternatively, it can be seen as a unique research resource, one which may be used to achieve socially desirable research goals without compromising the accuracy and completeness of the response. The exemplary record of statistical agencies in maintaining confidentiality has been widely noted, this being due in no small measure to agency self-interest in maintaining the confidence of individuals.

The United Kingdom, United States and Canada all have retained then-census records without compromising their integrity. It is possible that Australia, too, may soon follow this path. Indeed, most of the international literature assumes retention of census returns as a given, concentrating instead on how best to utilise the data while ensuring the privacy of individuals and the confidentiality of identifiable personal information. For nearly 30 years New Zealand politicians and officials indicated willingness to follow this general international pattern, the records of three censuses thereby being preserved. The decision to destroy the records of the 1996 census thus represents a break with established practice. What is now required is broad community agreement, backed by legislative action, that census records should be kept.The debate should turn instead to the most appropriate safeguards on the information preserved.

Compliance with privacy principles can be achieved by notifying respondents to the census of the intention to retain completed returns and the purpose for the retention. No firm evidence has been advanced for the claim that the census will be compromised by retaining the returns. While release of census data after a lengthy withholding period may satisfy the demands of genealogical, social and demographic researchers, a potentially even more valuable use is medical research, and this may require even earlier, albeit governed, access. Continuity is critical to such research, and deciding about retention on an ad hoc basis may be sufficient to destroy the research value of the data. It seems inappropriate for decisions on retention to be taken solely by the Government Statistician.That is only one official's viewpoint.The Chief Archivist and the Privacy Commissioner also represent particular viewpoints. What is needed is a balanced approach, one taking account of the wider public interest in the short and long terms.

Between a census being taken and the returns being made available to the public, many Statisticians and Parliaments, indeed several generations of citizens, will have come and gone.The best way to attain a consistent retention policy is by legislation.Title 13 of the U.S. Code provides a good model. The overall conclusion must be that census data

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/ The New Encyclopaedia Britannica, vol 3, 15"1 ed., Chicago, Britannica, 1993, pp22-23.

2 Statistics New Zealand Census 96 Information Kit - Benefits, Wellington, 1996. 3 Eleanor Singer, Nancy A. Mathiowetz, Mick P. Couper ,'The Impact of Privacy and

Confidentiality concerns on Survey Participation',Public Opinion Quarterly, 1993, pp. 465-6.

4 Daniel Laster, Breaches of Confidence and of Privacy by Misuse of Personal Information, Otago Law Review, 31 , 1989, p .61.

5 For typical arguments favouring destruction see: W McLennan, Address to Australian Archives Council, 24 Nov 1995; Mark Stevens, 'Should Census Schedules be Preserved?', New Zealand Archivist,\o\ III, 4.

6 Terry Cook, The Archival Appraisal of Records Containing Personal Information: A RAMP Study with Guidelines, Paris, UNESCO, 1991, p.22.

7 National Archives Act of Canada 1987, ss 5 (1), 6 (1). 8 Statistics Canada: correspondence from Census Manager, 3 April 1996. 9 Ibid.

10 Privacy Act 1983 s l 2 (Canada). 11 Privacy Commissioner Annual Report 1994-5. Ottawa, Ontario, The Privacy

Commissioner of Canada, 1995. 12 1991 Census of Population: Confidentiality and computing, 1991 Cm 1447, p.6. 13 Catherine Marsh, Angela Dale, Christopher Skinner,'Safe Data Versus Safe Settings:

Access to Microdata from the British Census', International Statistical Review, vol 62 , n. 1 (1994) p. 35.

14 C. Hakim, 'Census Confidentiality in Britain', in M. Bulmer (ed) Censuses, Surveys and Privacy London, Macmillan 1979, pp. 132, 149.

15 Frederick G. Bohme and David M. Pemberton, Privacy and Confidentiality in the US Censuses - a History, Washington, US Bureau of the Census, Data User Services Division, Census History Staff, 1991, p. 6.

16 Vincent Ρ Barabba,'The Right of Privacy and the Need to Know', Proceedings of the Social Statistics Section, American Statistical Association, 1974, p. 33, 35.

17 Barbara Everitt Bryant and William Dunn, 'The Census and Privacy', American Demographics, May 1995, p. 48, 51.

18 Robert L. Fay, Woody Carter, Kathryn Dowd, Multiple Causes of Non-response: Analysis of the survey of 1990 Census Participation', in Proceedings of the Social Statistics Section, Alexandria, V.A., American Statistical Association, 1991, pp. 525, 530.

19 Singer, Mathiowetz, Couper, op cit, pp 465-467, 476. 20 See Australian Bureau of Statistics, 1991 Census - How Australia takes a Census,

Belconnen, ACT, 1991, p. 5.

48

can be retained, while at the same time providing adequate protection for privacy of the respondents and confidentiality of the data.The words of Arthur G. Doughty, former Dominion Archivist of Canada, are appropriate:

of all national assets archives are the most precious; they are the gift of one generation to another and the extent of our care of them marks the extent of our civilisation.69

The Census and Privacy in New Zealand

21 I. Pritchard, 1991 Census of Population and Housing: Report on the Evaluation of Name Identified Records, Australian Archives, 1988, p . l .

22 Press Release, Parliamentary Secretary-Treasurer, PST 1 5 , 6 Sept 1994: cited in 'Save the Census for History's Sake', Australian Family Tree connections, Jan 1966, p. 31.

23 Pritchard, op cit, p . 16. 24 'Australian Census of Population and Housing: Public Attitudes on confidentiality

Issues', Diffusion, No 9 Dec 1991, pp. 1,3. 25 Law Reform Commission, Privacy and the Census Report no 12, Canberra, Australian

Government Publishing Service, 1979, p . 4 l .

26 Ibid. p.43. 27 Law Reform Commission, Privacy Report No. 22, Canberra, Australian Government

Publishing Service, 1983. 28 Australian Bureau of Statistics, Census 86 Working Paper No. PI - Destruction of

Census Forms. Canberra, Australian Bureau of Statistics, Population Census and Demography Branch, Development, Evaluation and Coordination Sub-Section, 1986, pp . 5 4 .

29 Pritchard, o p cit, p . 20. 30 Australian Archives, Appraisal Report for the Disposal of Name Identified Census

Records, 1996, p .M. 31 Ian Castles, 'Privacy and Access to Census Records'. Paper presented at Australian

Society of Archivists Seminar, ACT Branch, Canberra, 30 April, 1991, p. 2. 32 A proposal to allow local authorities access to census records to correct their

population registers prompted a major political and legal debate, and the census proposed for 1983 was postponed for four years. Sharing of data for administrative purposes was seen as a violation of a data protection principle. The Constitutional Court ordered the Government not to hold a census until a n e w law conforming to data protection principles was enacted. The 1987 census, held after a massive advertising campaign, had elaborate safeguards to protect the secrecy of each return, including destruction of the forms as soon as official figures were determined.

33 W. McLennan, Address to Australian Archives Council, 24 Nov 1995, para 12. 34 Ibid. para. 27. 35 Australian Archives, Attachment 33: Bibliography on Overseas Uses of Census

Records. There are 46 epidemiological, 4 genetic, 35 historical and 43 demographical/ historical studies described.

36 Pritchard, o p cit, p l 4 . 37 Australian Institute of Health, Issues in the Use of Individually Identified Census

Records for Epidemiological Research in Australia, Canberra, AIH, 1988, Attachment A.

38 Law Reform Commission, Privacy Report No. 22, Canberra, Australian Government Publishing Service, 1983, p . l l .

39 Statistics N e w Zealand, Census 96 Information Kit - Benefits, Wellington, Statistics N e w Zealand, 1996.

40 Statistics N e w Zealand, Past Census Records to be Kept, Media Release, 18 December

1995. 41 Statistics Act 1975 s 37, s 37A, s 37F. 42 Official Information Act 1982 s 18(c) (i); the Statistics Act 1975 s 37 (3) prohibits

dislcosure of individual schedules. 43 Official Information Act 1982 s 2(e) (i). 44 Statistics New Zealand, Past Census Records to be Kept, Media Release, 18 December

1995. 45 Privacy Act 1993.

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46 Privacy Act 1993 s i l . Note the exception - Principle 6 (access) is enforceable against a public sector agency.

47 Archives Act 1957 s 20. 48 Statistics N e w Zealand: interview with Government Statistician, 10 April 1996. 49 Minister of Statistics: correspondence, 26 June 1996. 50 New Zealand Labour Party: correspondence from Jonathan Hunt MP, 11 June 1996. 51 N e w Zealand First: verbal communication, June 1996. 52 The Alliance: correspondence from Grant Gillon, spokesperson Internal Affairs, 2

July 1996. 53 Bruce Slane, Privacy Commissioner, National Business Review: Response, Auckland,

Office of the Privacy Commissioner, 26 January 1996. 54 N e w Zealand Society of Genealogists, Report on retention of the New Zealand

Census to Len Cook of Statistics New Zealand, Auckland, NZSG, 26 Sept 1995, p. 4.

55 Statistics N e w Zealand, Retention of Census Forms as Public Archives, Wellington, Statistics N e w Zealand, 1966.

56 Mark Stevens, 'Should Census Schedules be Preserved?', New Zealand Archivist, vol III, no.4 , 1992, pp. 1-3.

57 Harvey M. Choldin, 'Government Statistics: the Conflict Between Research and Privacy', Demography, vol 25, no 1, 1988, pp. 152-153.

58 Statistics New Zealand, Retention of Census Forms as Public Archives, Wellington, Statistics N e w Zealand, 1966.

59 Entries on the Death Register are among the more comprehensive sources of family relationships, but the completeness and accuracy depends on the knowledge of the informant. The spouse (if any) and parents of the deceased are named. The ages and sex (but not names) of any living children are given.

60 National Archives: correspondence from Chief Archivist to Government Statistician, 11 May 1965 (National Archives reference NA 2/8/1) .

61 Law Reform Commission, Privacy and the Census Report no 12, Canberra,Australian Government Publishing Service, 1979, p. 41 .

62 Dr R.J.M. Gardner, Medical Geneticist, University of Otago and Dunedin Hospital, Genes, Geneticists and Genealogists. Paper delivered to the NZSG Conference, Dunedin, 1989; Dr Jeremy Jass, Colorectal Cancer in Families, Auckland, University of Auckland School of Medicine, Dept of Pathology, 1994.

63 Statistics New Zealand,/!// You Ever Wanted to Know about the Census, Wellington, Statistics N e w Zealand, 1996.

64 Statistics Act 1975 s 6. 65 Statistics N e w Zealand, Retention of Census Forms as Public Archives, Wellington,

Statistics N e w Zealand, 1966. 66 Slane, op cit. 67 Australian Federation of Family History Organisations, New Zealand Census Under

Threat!, Sydney.AFFHO, 1995, refers to the Australian Archives quote of $1.7 million to microfilm the 1991 Australian census records, compared to an estimated $80 million to conduct the census, and concludes the cost is hardly an issue.

68 Choldin, o p cit, pp. 147-148. 69 The Canadian Archives and its Activities, Ottawa, 1924, cited in Archives: Mirror

of Canada Past/Miroir du passe du Canada Ottawa, 1924, forepiece.

50

Looking Back

W h y Archives? *

J. C. Beaglehole

Casting my mind back five or six years to the immediately post-war days, I remember the opening words of an extremely able report which was made by somebody to somebody else - I suppose the ultimate destination was to be a Minister, or even a Prime Minister. No doubt it was thought possible that Action might cease to be Deferred: that in fact it might be Taken. Anyway the words ran somewhat like this: 'It would be superfluous at the present to urge again the need for the development of an effective system for the housing and care of the national records of New Zealand.'As the words came off the typewriter Fate, who is acquainted with the most minute occurrences of our universe, and does not hesitate to be parochial, no doubt chuckled and decreed the Hope Gibbons fire. Fate knew all about the New Zealand mind. Fate knew all about New Zealand departmental heads and politicians. Fate knew that in 1952 it would be necessary to start explaining, and pleading, and defining, and writing to the paper, all over again. But Fate never minds piling up work for other people. Fate, like a Minister of the Crown, prefers that Actions should be Deferred, for the sake of future awkwardness.

What are archives? Archives, primarily, are simply collections of records. There may be national archives, business archives, local archives, personal or family archives. But we are mainly concerned with national archives. The custom has grown up in civilized countries of regarding archives as valuable. It is argued that it is desirable that the history of a country should be studied - for various reasons: to minister to national pride, to provide warnings, to elicit moral instruction, perhaps merely to gratify curiosity - and that it is therefore desirable to preserve the raw material of such history. A Frenchman put it in the fewest possible words: pas de document, pas d'histoire, no document, no history. So civilized countries take suitable steps for the preservation of their national records, the by-products of their governmental and administrative activities. They regard them as important. They organize institutions like the Public Record Office in London or the Archives

* Reprinted from New Zealand Journal of Public Administration, v l 5 , no. 1, September ' 1952, pp. 9-16. Stylistically, the article is reproduced as it first appeared.

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Nationales in Paris. The habit has spread to outposts like Canada and South Africa.

We in New Zealand think it preferable to let the records of our national life lie about all over the country, subject to the inroads of dirt and flood and fire; when some stray historian or other eccentric protests that this is not pious, nor economic, nor in any way rational, we reply, Yes, but where are we to put them?' - and every time a fire occurs eminent public servants congratulate one another and say, Thank God, that lot's gone.

And of course there is always the person - politician, public servant, housewife - who says, But you can't keep every scrap of paper that's written on! As if somebody had suggested that you should; as if all the historian (for example) wanted was accumulation; as if archivists, members of a trained and highly-expert profession, existed solely for the purpose of collecting and mounting guard over rubbish. Let it be said therefore at once, dogmatically, with finality, that archives are not for indiscriminate accumulation, that neither archivists nor historians love paper for the sake of paper; that they, like other people, see no point in useless work; that they, like other servants of the public, like a good fire. But let us define our terms. A 'good' fire is not the Post Office fire of 1907, or the Hope Gibbons fire of 1952, or the fires lit by outgoing governments in 1935 or 1949. A good fire, small or big, is a fire of which the ingredients have been determined by instructed and knowledgeable people as useless for purposes of record or history; and the bigger such a fire is, the more the historian, as well as the departmental head or the record clerk, will be pleased. It will save a vast amount of his time. But how, the ordinary person may now ask, are you going to choose what to keep and what to burn? To which the only short answer is, that criteria have been developed, that a technique is there, that public servants and archivists, if they know their jobs, are adequate to the task. So let us destroy what should be destroyed as hard as we like; but for heaven's sake let us stop destroying stupidly, lazily, accidentally, blindly, petulantly, in sporadic bursts of our complacent ignorance.

Do not let us destroy blindly; do not let us amass blindly. The double rule can let us a bit more closely into the nature of a good archives system. A good archives system will be a system of carefully classified records, weeded out, coherent.The departmental officer or the historical student who has to consult them will not find merely a mountain of papers from which he sinks back abashed, or through which he has to tunnel his way like a rat or a railway engineer. There will, in fact, be archivists in charge who have room to work in, space for storage, proper

Why Archives?

shelving to utilize the space economically. Elementary? Of course, it's elementary; but the present Archives Branch of the Department of Internal Affairs (staff of three) does its work in part of the attic of the General Assembly Library, and keeps the materials of its work on the floor or on a couple of old tables. Because, after all, it exists on sufferance. Great Britain has its four Public Record Office Acts, 1838 to 1898; Canada has its Archives Act; their organizations are not merely high in esteem and renown but firmly based on statute. New Zealand's microscopic little group of devoted workers is a 'branch' - a twig rather - that could be economized out of existence overnight without an ordinary citizen of the country noticing the difference.And the number of public servants who would notice the difference could be counted on the fingers of one hand, with ample margin.

But don't let us look at the matter only from the point of view of archivists, or historians, or other academic and irritating people, who have no idea of how a public service is run, and who delight to speak out of their turn and make trouble. Let us argue that a young country cannot aspire to such luxuries, that a straightforward matter of fact down to earth no-frilly-nonsense-about-it country doesn't need them, that a poverty-stricken country can much better spend its resources on booze and the tote.Those arguments may be unanswerable. But after all, the most infantile, the most practical, the most poverty-stricken country needs to run its administration as efficiently as possible. An administration can run efficiently only if its records are there when wanted, and when they have ceased to be useful are out of the way. But there is an in-between stage, as most experienced public servants know. And most experienced public servants (the guess may be hazarded) feel malevolent about records only when the records get in their way. They do not feel hostile to a record merely because it is a record; they do not naturally regard historians and history as their enemies; else why demand lectures on New Zealand history for public service bursars undergoing a course of instruction in political science and public administration - which the historian is expected to supply? (The historian has to supply, that is, what he has less and less chance of getting hold of, as recurrent flames and the busy pulping machines engulf his material) Let us come to the point: the public servant, the departmental head, has two friends - two potential friends, rather, if we think in terms of training and possible function - the record clerk and archivist. How many first-rate record clerks are there in New Zealand? What are their functions? What is their status? What training do they get? In how many Departments is the record-room regarded as the natural home for the dead-beats and the misfits, the boys without

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a future? And yet your department works only because its records work. AU right, then make sure that your records work in an orderly systematic way, and as they cease to work make sure that they are retired in an orderly systematic way. And let the archivist take over in an orderly, systematic way, and relieve departmental heads and record-clerks of a housing problem that makes them pray for fires. And let not the departmental head imagine the archivist as a hungry monster, with jaws that gape for everything he has. Let not the efficient record-clerk, who loves his records as his children, cling to them like children because he knows that the moment they leave the record-room they will go to a rat-ridden cellar or to Hope Gibbons building to be piled on top of the paint and varnish with a cracked wall leaning over them.

That great public servant, Sir Joseph Heenan, had two ideas about records that were - shall we say? - ahead of their time. They did not anyhow elicit sympathetic echoes, that I have ever heard of, from his eminent colleagues. One was that record-clerks should be specially and carefully picked and trained men. (We might make bursars of them.) The other was that any good archives system should provide for the half-dead but half-alive file that a department did not want to let go because it might be needed, but which was an incumbrance because it could be needed so very infrequently. During the course of the last war the British Civil Service, i.e., the Master of the Rolls and the Public Record Office - made an independent discovery, of this idea; it was acted on. Ministers did not Hold the Matter under Consideration. Action was not Deferred. Let me quote from an excellent article which has recently appeared in the Ό. and M. Bulletin' (1. Vol. 7, No. 1, February, 1952. 'Published by the Organization and Methods Division of H.M. Treasury in collaboration with departmental Organization and Methods Officers.') It is entitled, 'The "Limbo " Plan for Departmental Records', by Roger Ellis'. He begins:

'Long experience of Record-keeping has shown that during their existence Records pass through three stages, viz.;

(i) the "current", when the Records exist as files, registers, etc., in active use for the daily business of a Department;

(ii) the "dormant", when the same files, etc., have passed out of current use, but must still be retained for occasional reference;

(iii) the final stage, when the Records are sent either to permanent preservation at the Public Record Office or to authorized destruction.'

The first and final stages are familiar, and responsibility and procedure during these stages are defined and understood. In the first, the potential Records are in the care of the originating Department; in the last, the

Why Archives?

Records are either transferred to the Public Record Office or destroyed under Schedule. It is the middle period for which, until very recently, no official provision has been made, and during which Records have been exposed to the greatest risk of loss, damage, or confusion. A footnote adds that, 'The Schedules, authorizing the destruction of selected Records or Classes of Record, are prepared by virtue of the Act 40 and 41 Victoria, C.55. They are drawn up by representatives of both the Public Record Office and the Department concerned, and are laid before Parliament before being put into effect.' Of the records in the dormant files he says, '. . . Some are worthless, some are of the first importance and must be permanently preserved, others require preservation for a term of years only and may then be destroyed.' So the 'limbo' plan came into operation. Limbo is not necessarily a place of the lost, the neglected, the hell-doomed. It stands here for the temporary abode of spirits, i.e., files - which may after suitable probation and examination go either to the archival heaven or to the appropriate fire. But the files are in limbo by the free will and agreement of the departments which produced them, 'weeding' is done by the departments concerned and not over their heads; departments have free access daily to their records; they can withdraw wholly from the scheme if they want to. They don't seem to want to.

Now it is obvious that this scheme could be of enormous use in New Zealand. It would solve formidable departmental worries. It could form part of a clean and tidy system of record-keeping which would be of assistance to departments and to archivists alike. Of course, we have first to get our archivists. That job would not be insuperable: we have the nucleus already, in the Archives Branch of Internal Affairs, sometimes magniloquently, and comically, referred to as National Archives; we have the War Archives section of the War History Branch of Internal Affairs. It is the sort of work which creates a disinterested enthusiasm in its devotees (I use the word advisedly) strange to certain other types of mankind. It is an enthusiasm I have seen at close quarters, not merely in archive work, and I have noticed that some senior men have been frankly puzzled by it, it has seemed a sort of perversion of the natural instincts of the public servant which perhaps shouldn't be allowed. But there it is: it can be used: it can be recruited. It can work in harmony with the needs of departments; it can give departments as well as the state and the general public great service.

But I see that I am being foolish. I started out to explain what archives were, and why civilized countries treasure their archives; and here I am taking archives for granted and showing how they could be improved. We mustn't run before we have learnt to walk. Of course.

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Archifacts

Or is that universally true? Would it perhaps meet the needs of New Zealand administration better if we combined running and walking, i.e., made a real effort to get archives and 'Limbo' into proper operation together? The answer to that question isn't really for the historian to give, it's for the enlightened and able administrator. Nevertheless, it is quite certain that a proper archive system would in itself take a load off the mind of enlightened and able administrators. For one thing, historians wouldn't be able to blame them for fires.

At this point someone may cry, But what about the space required? What about the money? The answer to which is that I am not in the least impressed by either - one cannot say argument - rhetorical question; any more than I am impressed by the alternatives put forward recently in horrified tones by the P.S.A. secretary, of a home for archives or homes for public servants, as if they were mutually exclusive. In the first place, no one has the faintest idea how much space would really be needed for properly organized archives, for no one has the faintest idea how much archival material, properly speaking, there is in the country. A census has never been taken, elementary and necessary step though those interested have known it to be. In the second place, though a vast amount of material might be uncovered by such a census, it has never been 'weeded', except by the rats, flood and fire, and the total valuable bulk might be (one cannot say would be) considerably less than the gross. In the third place, it would be wrong to concentrate everything in Wellington, and proper weeding might make the problem easily solvable in other centres. Wellington, however, must be the headquarters of any national archives system, and, the permanent home of the great mass of records. If we really want room - if, that is, we are serious about archives, and not merely rattling round to find somewhere to move something from somewhere else - we'll find room. We might even put up a building where public servants could work in decent conditions; we might even put up a building, as has been already suggested, where the National Archives - something more than a name - and the National Library, that great institution, hitherto used as despitefully as a stray dog thrust into the nearest coal-box as a kennel, could both find shelter. Only, be it noted, as joint tenants. Libraries are not archives; librarians are not archivists.

As to the expense, we don't know either, but it is quite certain that it would be no more than New Zealand can easily afford. A careful estimate in 1946 was about £7,000 a year, but 1946 estimates are not of much use now, while in 1946 Limbo wasn't considered. What about the money that could be saved? How much is wasted now in renting fire-risks to store our records in? Can a country afford that sort of

56

Why Archives?

expenditure? Which is the cheaper in the long run, to mess around, or to run an economically well thought-out, rationally administered, administratively convenient concern? Governments - it is their immemorial mark - may prefer be penny-wise and pound-foolish; but is that any reason why public servants should aid and abet them ? Of course there are two other ways of dealing with the whole problem, one cheap and simple, the other messy (but people seem to prefer messiness) and expensive. The first, is to be courageous, to say, We don't believe in being able to find out what happened in the past, we detest records; and burn the lot without further ado. The second is to keep on as we have done for so long, as we are doing now, so that in due course dirt, the generations of rats, and every now and again a fire, will complete an almost equal destruction. And then we can write a wordy memorandum to the Minister and inform him he can cease Deferring Action, that he need no longer Have the Matter under Consideration, because the matter has disappeared. Except, I suppose, for the bits and pieces which the officers of the Archives Branch are grimly protecting, with a fanatical light in their eyes, surrounded by flames, and rocked by earthquakes, in some obscure attic or cellar.

This may all seem far too melodramatic, so let me summarize in a few simple propositions, in which public servants are by now no doubt well accustomed to calling the Plain Style, in Non-Emotive language. • Among modern civilized people it is a well-established practice to

preserve the records of the national life. Among these records a leading place is taken by the records of government and administration.

• By no means everything is or should be preserved. Destruction is therefore carefully, rationally and systematically provided for.

• Proper preservation and proper destruction is more economical than haphazard accumulation and haphazard destruction.

• A technique has been developed by which government departments may have all the advantages of getting rid of unwanted records while maintaining ready access to dormant records.

• It is foolish to ignore well-developed and successful techniques for dealing with an administrative problem, and for the attainment of administrative convenience.

• It is foolish to repeat catch-cries about space and money before finding out how much of either is required.

1 Note: It takes for granted a proper archives organization and properly organized destruction. Mr. Ellis's country is reasonably civilized.

57

Comment

Marching to the Beat of a Different Drum

Lois Robertson

Hocken Library

There is an obvious link between the career development and life-long learning which will ensure archivists/recordkeepers have the skills required to manage records and recordkeeping systems in the future and the role of professional associations in addressing the training and educational needs of members. Yet, while the professional association might be expected to provide a lead, ARANZ members, working alone or in a group, employed in a range of positions and institutions from entry level to experienced senior staff, surely have a personal responsibility to develop their knowledge and skills on the job. The following thoughts derive from current employment in a collecting institution, together with recent experience of distance training programmes.

Adapting to change As professionals, we have a choice whether to pursue professional approaches to archives and recordkeeping rooted in past practices or to adapt to the changes which have revolutionised the records and recordkeeping systems with which we work. Approaches to archival science need to be renegotiated to enable professionals to adequately address the impact of technological change on archives and to acquire the relevant knowledge, skills and attitudes that will enable them to function effectively in ten years' time.

Associat ions identifying the i ssue British, American and Australian archivists' professional associations all have well-established training and education programmes incorporating workshops, seminars, conferences, and publications. The programmes actively support post-graduate qualifications. Britain's Society of

58

Marching to the Beat of a Different Drum

59

Archivists also has its own Diploma course and a registration scheme for qualifying archivists.

The Australian Society of Archivists has established an Accreditation Committee and actively encourages members to continually upgrade their knowledge and skills, to gain postgraduate qualifications and attain competency standards, and to address recordkeeping issues. National Records and Archives Competency Standards are the evaluation tools used to assure prospective students and employers of the quality of courses. McCausland (1999) claims that unless archivists/recordkeepers are actively involved in education and training they risk lagging behind in professional knowledge and skills.

Members of the Australian Society of Archivists' Queensland branch, feeling the lack of career development opportunities in the state, in 1997 formed an Education Sub-Committee (Cuddihy: 1999). They felt isolated geographically, academically and professionally, and they identified strategies for the future (including education and professional development) which stressed greater cooperation and collaboration between professionals.

Should ARANZ, as a professional association, be doing more?

The ASA 1996 Members Survey The ASA 1996 Members Survey (Davidson: 1997) identified the most important training needs as:

• electronic records

• appraisal of electronic records

• strategic planning for archives

• management of archival programmes

• electronic records documentation. This emphasis on electronic records possibly reflects the involvement of prominent recordkeeping figures in the society and the society's involvement in recordkeeping issues. Many respondents also belonged to related professional associations to help them keep up-to-date with common trends. The overwhelming majority attended meetings and conferences and just under half had served the associations in some way.

If Australians identify electronic records, continuing education and public credibility as the pressing issues to be addressed if professionals want to have marketable skills, what are the views of New Zealand's archivists/recordkeepers?

Archifacts

Australasian post-graduate archives qualifications Monash University, Edith Cowan University and the University of New South Wales all now offer archives/recordkeeping courses, all three also advocating recordkeeping based on the records continuum approach. For both Pederson (1999) and Anderson (1998) relevant education programmes in accessible formats are essential if archivists/ recordkeepers are to develop or update the core skills required to meet relevant competencies and standards. They emphasise the necessity for contemporary archivists to be involved in appraisal from the systems design and implementation phases. For either paper-based records or electronic records relevant knowledge and skills are needed to manage recordkeeping system effectively.

As yet no New Zealand university offers a specialist post-graduate archives or recordkeeping qualification. Victoria University of Wellington's School of Communications and Information Management offers archives and records management papers as électives in its Master of Library and Information Studies programme. New Zealand recordkeeping expertise and associated post-graduate education and relevant on-the-job training opportunities are heavily concentrated in Wellington, for instance, at the Victoria University of Wellington, National Archives and Alexander Turnbull Library.

Would New Zealand archivists, and the records and clients with which they work, benefit from the new perspectives brought in from knowledge, skills, and attitudes gained from overseas postgraduate courses?

Debate cont inues o n archives educat ion and training n e e d s The pros and cons of polytechnic training for archivists/recordkeepers were discussed in depth in the 1994 Ham Report (Patterson:1996).This option has also been debated extensively in Australia. Undeniably, professional and public expectations of accountability would support post-graduate qualifications as a more suitable grounding for archivists in present and future positions of responsibility. In the April 1994 issue of Archifacts, Strachan, Fogarty and other prominent archivists responded vigorously to the questions raised in the Ham Report. Not a single person at that point raised electronic records as an issue. But just two years later Morgan (1996) argued for training based on the records continuum!

Debate currently rages in New Zealand over the merits or otherwise of the various Australian postgraduate archives programmes and which, if any, ARANZ might support. Until ARANZ deterrnines precisely what

60

Marching to the Beat of a Different Drum

it wants in respect of formal post-graduate education programmes it is ill-prepared as a professional association to endorse one over another, much less to itself foster or promote the development of a programme.

The National Archives o f Australia's Profess ional D e v e l o p m e n t Program National Archives of Australia has recently established an institution specific Professional Development Program. It is on-the-job training, designed to meet the needs of reference archivists lacking post-graduate archival qualifications (Summerell:1998). The programme includes courses, workshops, seminars, networking, readings, projects, and formal tertiary instruction. It is viewed as a continuing and regular part of professional development.

Mentoring Formal facilitated mentoring programmes and informal workplace mentoring partnerships benefit both the mentor and the mentee. Mentoring relationships may be brief, or they may last for an extended or finite period. Mentoring benefits those who are ready for change, open to support, in transition, or bogged down. Mentors may be of either gender and of any age, but they must be able to offer quality advice and support. Mentors may be found in the workplace or outside.

The Australian library and Information Association has a successful structured group mentoring programme which helps 'to facilitate the transition of new graduates into the profession' (Ritchie: 1999). The advantages for participants include opportunities for career development; the sharing of information, ideas and feedback; encouragement to put theory into practice; experience of leadership roles; the contacts of networking. There are four stages in the ALIA mentoring programme: Stage one: The preservice practicum supervisor in the role of

mentor

Stage two: Transition into the profession facilitated by the group mentoring programme

Stage three: Continuing education with the guidance

Stage four: The mentoree becomes a mentor.

What must be stressed is that mentoring relationships require ongoing commitment by both parties to be successful.

Following the success of a pilot mentoring scheme, the Australian Society of Archivists Mentor Scheme (ASA: 1999) has been opened up

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Archifacts

to the entire membership, enabling archivists at all levels to develop their careers in meaningful ways. Participants will learn know-how, know-who, know-where and know-what to prepare them for the changing needs of the workplace in the 21st century.

Could we successfully develop a New Zealand mentor ing programme?

Conc lus ion The most useful archives education is one that addresses current trends, and is enhanced by opportunities to develop skills on-the-job through courses and the exchange of ideas. It is undeniable that archivists who march to the beat of a different drum, keeping their knowledge and skills up-to-date, will be the archivists best equipped to manage records and recordkeeping systems in ten years' time.

References

K.Anderson,'Distance Education for Archival Education',/«««s, 1998:2.

Australian Society of Archivists Mentor Scheme'. Available on http://www.archivists.org.au/mentor/html. Accessed 2 April 2000.

D. Cuddihy, 'The Need for Archival Education and Professional Development'. Paper delivered to the Australian Society of Archivists 1999 Conference. Available on http://www.archivists.org.au/events/ conf99/cuddihy.html. Accessed on 4 April 2000.

J. Davidson, A. Schwirtlich & B. Smith, "The Australian Society of Archivists' 1996 Membership Survey', Archives and Manuscripts V25:2,1997:Nov.

F. Gerald Ham, Towards Career Professionalisation: An Education Programme for New Zealand Archivists and Records Managers, Wellington, 1994. Cited in B. Patterson,'Professionalism and New Zealand Archivists,'.¡4rc¿bí/HCfs, 1996: April.

P. Fogarty, et al.,'Archivists in Larger Institutions', Archifacts, 1994:April.

S. McCausland, 'Accreditation: purpose, process and value'. Paper delivered to Australian Society of Archivists 1999 Conference. Available on http://www.archivists.org.au/events/conf99/mccausland2.html. Accessed on 4 April 2000.

M. Morgan, 'Lost in the Future: Record Dilemmas', Archifacts, 1996:October.

B. Patterson, 'Professionalism and New Zealand Archivists', Archifacts, 1996:AprU.

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Marching to the Beat of a Different Drum

A. Pederson, 'Harnessing Diversity: strengthening professional education through collaboration & planning', Janus, 1999:1.

A. Ritchie, et al., 'Professionalism through ALIA: outcomes from group mentoring programs', The Australian Library Journal,V4&;2,1999:May.

B. Sharman.'What does Professionalism Mean?', Archifacts, 1996:October.

Stuart Strachan, 'Perspectives on the Ham Report: a New Zealand overview', Archifacts, 1994:April.

Society of American Archivists, 'Professional Education'. Available on http://www.archivists.org/prof_education/index.html.Accessed 2 April 2000.

Society of Archivists, 'Training and Education' . Available on http://www.archives.org.uk. Accessed 2 April March.

R. Summerell, 'Improving the Education and Pofessional Development of Reference Archivists', Archives and Manuscripts, V 26:1,1998.

63

Some Career Development Advice for Archivists

Lois Robertson

Hocken Library

Serious advice in a light-hearted style on career development which aims to challenge ARANZ members to update their archives knowledge, skills and on-the-job training.

Archivis t /recordkeepers . . . If you hunger after job enrichment or professional progress take responsibility for your own career development.

Make plans; carry them through as if your career is your business. Draw up your own strategic plan for your career development: • write your vision, what you want to be or be doing in ten years' time;

• write your mission in a series of objectives how you will fulfil your vision;

• list your values;

• review your progress periodically; and

• modify your objectives as necessary.

Look for opportunities to learn new skills. Think 'how' and 'why' - question everything. Evaluate. View blockages as challenges and overcome them. Think laterally; be creative. Your problem-solving skills will be useful in the future.

Get to know your corporate culture - and the politics of your organisation.

Find a role model. Anywhere. Someone you admire. Think why and learn from their example. Maintain high ethical standards, continually raise quality standards and outputs. Learn time management.

Get involved in community and professional organisations. Show leadership abilities. Learn how successful teams operate. Help build strong teams. Individuals with a sports and/or coaching background will find their skills helpful. Management is increasingly using team models over hierarchical models because they are more effective.

64

Some Career Development Advice for Archivists

Network wi th people w h o sha re similar career interests and values. The New Zealand archives field is small. You may need to look beyond your comfort zone to find contacts. Take a risk. Contact them. They will probably be pleased to talk with you and be pleased in your interest - especially if they are 'established' in the archives/ recordkeeping profession and/or have professional achievements to share. Networking may be the key in a successful job search.

Jo in professional associations related to your own - they help put your professional practice into a context. Their journals, newsletters, literature, educational and training programmes have been designed with professional interests in mind. Build up a personal library of professional titles. Read them. They will give you food for thought and help keep you focused.

Keep informed of technological changes and make changes before you have to . Read professional journals and anything written about information technology and think how it could affect your present situation and your future career.Take a calculated risk. Complete an archives/recordkeeping course and hit the ground running. Whether your passion is for paper-based records or electronic records you will need to develop a sound knowledge of electronic recordkeeping systems to manage your records and recordkeeping system effectively. Learn about records continuum management strategies which are suited to records in any media.

Mentoring works . Find a mentor. They may be either gender or any age, but they will have quality advice. Mentors may be found outside your professional group if there are none available for your needs within your own professional group. Join a formal mentoring scheme to assist you develop your career in meaningful ways. Formal and informal mentoring relationships benefit both the mentor and the mentee, whether the relationship is brief, or lasts for an extended period.

Do all the above and your knowledge, skills and attitudes will still be appreciated and welcomed by an employer in ten years' time.

• Be courageous. A profession is a calling.

• Be prepared to march to the beat of a different drum from those around.

• Serious career development takes effort but the 'journey' will be rewarding.

• Be inspired; you may even inspire others.

• Celebrate your successes.

• Learn from your failures and have fun along the way!

65

Book Reviews

R a c h e l B a r r o w m a n

Victoria University of Wellington 1899-1999: A History. Wellington:Victoria University Press, 1999- 432p. $6995. ISBN 0 864 73369 0

Rachel Barrowman and her co-workers are to be congratulated on their production of this elegant and substantial centennial history of Victoria University of Wellington. So often institutional histories fade into narrations of events and names, but Barrowman's history avoids this fate with ease. Her theme concerns the development of the special character of an educational institution; a theme which enables her to select and present her material in a manner that assists the reader to be an interested and comfortable participant in the journey of discovery. The most recent events are, of course, the hardest to disentangle. This is always the case with historical research, but because Barrowman is a lively academic herself it seems probable that her book will provide a robust framework of understanding as Victoria faces up to future challenges.There is nothing of a hagiography in these pages. Merits are acknowledged, as are the weaknesses of individuals and poor managerial and policy decisions. What the author aims for in her interpretations and judgments is fairness; an objective which she seems to have been remarkably successful in attaining.

The chronological development of a struggling institutional waif into an established, if poorly-endowed and resourced, independent university post-1960 is the overarching theme of the first four chapters. Here the author is able to draw upon several fine essays of earlier historians of Victoria, notably J.C. Beaglehole's Victoria University College: an essay towards a ^ísíory(1949).The interpretation is, however, distinctly her own, as is her extensive and effective use of the Victoria University archives and other primary sources. Several chapters concentrate upon the massive, controversial building developments that took place after I960 as the newly-independent university sought to transform its cramped site into a campus that could accommodate its burgeoning full-time student population. These chapters emphasise the decision-making of Victoria's first Vice-Chancellor, J.Williams, and of his assistant, that roughest of remarkable rough diamonds, George Culliford. Chapters 7 to 11 depart from strict general chronology to explore in-depth developments (sometimes failed ones) in particular subject areas. This

66

Book Reviews

strategy has worked especially well because the author has given each area its due without reducing the reader to a state of torpor. One chapter is devoted to student politics. This, if nothing else, should convince the reader that the charge that Victoria was, and possibly still is, an iniquitous den of Marxism tells more about those who made that charge than it does of substance. Finally, Barrowman focuses on the new financial, social, vocational and ideological environment to which Victoria, along with other New Zealand universities, has had to adjust after 1990. Most recently a step towards putting its own stamp on the future has been heralded by Victoria's decision to move law and commerce teaching downtown away from the central campus.

Barrowman writes, as she must, from a time when all New Zealand universities feel themselves to be in crisis; a contrast indeed to several earlier centennial university histories which were written in a period characterised by a kinder, more deferential climate of public opinion towards university education. Yet this book demonstrates Victoria has always operated in a climate of some crisis, one reinforced by the Hunters, Beagleholes and Munzes of this world, who have brought urgency to the question what does a university consist of, and have shared their thinking with their colleagues. It is this, above all, which has made Victoria such a lively, sometimes governmentally untidy place, as well as one where people are at the centre of the frame. A wily pragmatism clothed in a liberal spirit has been the dominant policy preference of successive administrative and governmental leaders of the university, and their work has been ably supported by a number of long serving staff who have put their impress upon the institution. Ian Campbell is one such. As a thoughtful and articulate student, Campbell succeeded in having his written argument for reforms in law teaching banned on the grounds that they were subversive. Later, as a reformist professor, he played a major part in turning Victoria's law school into a national frontrunner. Later still, as Deputy Vice-Chancellor, Campbell did much to shape Victoria's development, enabling it to survive well the challenges of the day. As Barrowman makes clear, Campbell and his kind have been instrumental in making Victoria what it is.

Throughout its institutional life Victoria has bemoaned its lack of substantial professional schools, those with the monopoly or quasi-monopoly markets that have advantaged most other New Zealand universities. Barrowman traces this repetitive thread and there is no doubt that Victoria has been financially disadvantaged, especially after 1990, by a crude system of government financing which takes no account of the true cost of supplying a teaching market, which allows for student choice in subjects compared to a more economic tightly-

67

Archifacts

prescribed curriculum predicated upon professional training. Victoria has been poorly treated as a result and, even as Barrowman's book has seen the light of day, the university has been plunged into, a leadership and financial crisis that owes much to counter-productive government policies and poor appreciation by bureaucrats of the real world in which universities must live. There is likely to be considerable pain for many Victoria staff as a result, but the tradition which Barrowman has highlighted so capably in this book leaves the reader with some confidence that Victoria will come through its troubles without succumbing, as has happened elsewhere, to a tacky managerialism which erodes the fundamentally liberal principles at the heart of any worthwhile university education.

Particularly pleasing to note from Barrowman's perceptive and sympathetic accounts of the mixed fortunes of Victoria's several faculties and departments is how good teachers and their staff/student achievement have been able to rise above the current mediocre orthodoxy of market-forces and its dullard companion, bums on seats financing. In Victoria's case, Music, Drama and Antarctic Research are all examples of subjects expensive to mount and maintain. And all have been breathtakingly successful. Like every institution, Victoria needs people to remind it of its hard-won successes so that it can face the future with well-founded confidence. The geographic dispersion of the campus seems consistent with the views of Robert Stout, the founding father of the concept of Victoria as the people's university. Less propitious, however, was Stout's neo-colonial academic conservatism, which saw him fight hard to maintain the vesting of examining responsibility in the hands of overseas institutions. But, like other New Zealand universities, Victoria has come of age and should now possess sufficient confidence to build upon its strengths in public administration and other studies befitting the nation's capital city. Moreover, now that the decisive move to teach off the central campus has been made, there is the opportunity to strike boldly and create what could be the leading 'School of Education' in New Zealand.

Barrowman's book is an attractive one to have on one's shelves. As already noted, she has made comprehensive use of primary and secondary sources; the Victoria University archives proving to be a major mine. The text includes many interesting and well-reproduced photographs from a wide range of sources. For the most part they are beautifully matched with the written content. The care taken in the presentation of this book has certainly paid off. Not all is pure gold, however. This reviewer received a demanding research training at Victoria University of Wellington in the early 1960s, and he knows

68

Book Reviews

without a doubt that, had he directly quoted Robert Stout and then given the reference to be an undated newspaper extract, his text would have been returned to sender for failing to meet the precision such scholarship requires.

David McKenzie Dunedin

Ted ling

Solid, Safe, Secure: Building Archives Repositories in Australia. Canberra: National Archives of Australia. I44p. A$30 plus A$10 for postage outside Australia. ISBN 0 642 34403 5

Ted Ling refers to the 'paucity' of publications on archives buildings and he is right. It is a joy to see a book devoted to archives repositories, as so often archives are the 'poor relation' when it comes to cultural property. Although Ling's focus is archives, this does not prevent his book from being of immense value to those engaged in the storage and preservation of other cultural property, be it in libraries or museums.

In his foreword, George Nichols, Director-General of the National Archives of Australia, states that 'the book demystifies what can be a complex subject'. In recent years archivists and conservators have been required to alter their mind-set from a micro to the macro approach to preservation. This change has largely been brought about by the knowledge that remedial treatments are extremely labour intensive and costly, and that the huge volume of material stored in archival institutions around the world was deteriorating faster than it could be conserved. New approaches are needed. International experience has shown that significantly greater benefits are gained for archives holdings when they are packaged and stored in conditions appropriate to their format and for the use required of them.

As part of this change of approach, the training for archivists and conservators has also evolved to emphasise preventive conservation'. Conservators, in particular, have been at the forefront of the development, with an increasing number of institutions appointing conservators specifically responsible for preventive conservation. As recently as the 1960s there were very few conservators in archives institutions. Repairers, or restorers as they were occasionally known, were sometimes employed in larger organisations to carry out remedial

69

Archifacts

treatments. Knowledge of preventive conservation measures was, even then, quite extensively utilised by these repairers, but it was the increase in formal conservation training that improved their status, enabling them to develop and utilise the skills required to address properly preventive conservation issues.

Ted Ling refers to the lack of proper consideration given to archives buildings - how they were to be 'imposing', large enough to continue to take in archives for ever, and even to be nuclear bomb-proof. 'Sexy' buildings, however, do not necessarily protect their contents well, as can be demonstrated by the Bibliothèque Nationale de France: a modern building which is a disaster for its users and for the preservation of the national collections it holds. In the past such a result did not generally proceed from deliberate policy, but originated in a lack of understanding of the causes of deterioration and of the requirements for physical preservation of archives. In the case of the Bibliothèque Nationale de France it would seem that politics over-rode all other considerations, with librarians and conservators excluded from the design process.

The book recognises that archivists and conservators will increasingly be employed on secondment as project managers for archives building refurbishments or for new construction, and that they may have little or no experience of dealing with engineers, architects and other consultants. As Ted Ling notes, experience is everything. This has certainly been true at the National Archives of New Zealand, which has recently had a major refurbishment. Whilst a good understanding of the physical needs of the holdings and of the requirements of staff is vital, more is demanded of an internal project manager. Crucially, this includes balancing the requirements of the architects and engineers with the needs of archives holdings and with the operational demands of the building. To do this successfully requires a clear appreciation of the consultant's position, and of engineering and plant issues, as well as the ability to advocate to all parties the paramount requirements of archives and staff.

As Ted Ling states, ' What has been needed for some time is a "How To" book'. Not only is this a "How To" book, it also contains brief case histories of a number of repositories in Australia and New Zealand, which help illustrate the advice given. The book is divided into nine chapters, six of which are devoted to practical aspects of archives storage buildings:The Site and the Building; Inside the Building;A Myriad of Uses; Building the Building; Caring for the Building; and Building in the Tropics. Of course, some issues and problems referred to are unique to Australia, but in common with New Zealand are the growing

70

Book Reviews

awareness, and increased use, of archives by both public and government. Also shared is the demand for cost-efficient construction, operation of repositories and provision of user services.

The book's style ensures that, despite its essentially 'dry' subject, it remains readable, without the sense of 'slogging' through of some technical publications. The advice given is clear and pertinent, completely demystifying for this reader many technical issues relating to building construction. It is supported with informative tables and useful references at the end of each chapter. The book itself is well-designed, though the typeface seems small after an extended period of reading.

It is worth noting that Appendices 1, 2 and 3 contain tables on environmental conditions and safety protection levels for different classes of archives. These are useful, but may be confusing in New Zealand, as historically some environmental parameters have here been different. The National Archives of New Zealand Storage Standard, released in March 2000, should reduce any confusion; and Ling's book will be vital guidance for those planning or modifying archives repositories to comply with the Storage Standard. It is gratifying, after reading this book, to realise that, while we can learn much from this publication,Australia and New Zealand are certainly moving in the same direction on archives storage and preservation. Solid, Safe, Secure is a valuable, modern addition to the still meagre literature available on this subject.

Jonathan London Head of Preservation Services National Archives of New Zealand

Caroline Daley

Girls & Women, Men & Boys: Gender in Taradale 1886-1930. Auckland: Auckland University Press, 1999. 216pp. $39.95. ISBN 1 86940 211 1

Beyond New Zealand, historians of women and historians of gender have been engaged in turf warfare for some time. Champions of women's history have asserted the need to explore women's lives; exponents of gender history have argued the importance of examining the ways that power is articulated through gender - in the relationships between and within the sexes, and in the ways that masculinity and femininity operate. In Girls & Women, Men & Boys: Gender in Taradale

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1886-1930, New Zealand's first major historical study of gender, Caroline Daley wisely sidesteps such internecine quarrels and shows how looking at relationships and events through a gendered lens can enhance our understanding of the past.

Daley has chosen to turn this lens on aspects of one area of New Zealand: the Hawke's Bay semi-rural community of Taradale between the 1880s and 1930s. She notes that her work is not a local history, although those interested in the history of the Hawke's Bay will find much material here. Instead, Taradale forms a single geographical site from which to consider the broader New Zealand context. Daley fixes on three relationships: family, work, and leisure. Each is considered across three fronts - the shared experiences of women and men, and the separate histories of women and of men - allowing Daley to highlight the intricate ways that gendered power operated between and within the sexes.

Intergenerational tensions between women over respectability, for example, were evident as younger women took advantage of the leisure pursuits available to them. At the same time, these young women continued to do the household chores as had their mothers and grandmothers, chores which rarely formed part of a young man's work. Tensions between groups of men were less apparent, as inclusiveness rather than generational conflict characterised men's relationships.This inclusiveness sometimes assumed a front against women. Young men's leisure became masculinised in response to concerns over the feminising influences of women on boys.The years covered in this study may have been a time of major change in New Zealand - the enfranchisement of women, their greater entry into the paid workforce, the rise of a leisure industry, and important changes in family structure - but there was no radical shift in Taradale's gender relations. Any renegotiation was slow and subtle, Daley argues, noting that there are rarely watersheds in gender relations'.

While Daley exposes greater continuity than change, her work challenges some givens in New Zealand history. She argues, for example, for a 'symbiosis' of women's and men's roles in the household economy. Mutuality was evident, as well as the exclusivity that has dominated the historical literature through notions of male breadwinners and female helpmeets. Daley is overly reluctant to generalise from her localised study - that, after all, is surely one purpose of the microhistory she espouses - but many will find her analyses valuable in reviewing the larger picture, of New Zealand women's history in particular.

One strength of this book, which arose from a doctoral thesis, is the fine use of source material. Daley grounds her work in the wealth of

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Book Reviews

literature on gender and women's history. A general reader may find the historiographical and theoretical discussions intrusive, but those who prefer their New Zealand history to be set in a wider historiographical context will find this engagement refreshing. She also offers an excellent analysis of the types of material available for a local study, focusing particularly on the difficulties of exploring gender relations, private lives and household economies from public records. Oral history formed a large component of her research, and Daley discusses usefully how oral history itself is gendered. Not only did women and men relate the same event differently, but their stories and ways of telling were gendered. Daley skilfully interweaves the oral histories with other sources, but at times her verbatim use of oral accounts is difficult to read and some judicious editing, combining spontaneity with readability, would have been beneficial.

This is a richly detailed study of the social boundaries that operated in New Zealand. Well-written, thoroughly researched, and located firmly in local and international literature, Girls & Women, Men & Boys, is an important step in the 'gendering of New Zealand's historical writing'.

Bronwyn Dalley Historical Branch, Department of Internal Affairs

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BACK ISSUES OF THE JOURNAL AVAILABLE

The Association holds copies of most issues of Archifacts (new series, 1976-)

Orders, or requests for a detailed list of holdings, should be addressed to:

Membership Secretary ARANZ PO Box 11-553 Manners Street Wellington

Prices per issue (including post and packing) are:

Pre-1990 $3

From 1990 (inclusive) $5

A c o m p r e h e n s i v e i n d e x to all issues to 1993 is also available for $16 (including post and packing).

O t h e r ARANZ p u b l i c a t i o n s s t i l l a v a i l a b l e

(price includes post and packing)

• single volume reprint of Archifacts (old series, 1974-76) - $6

• EG. Ham, Towards Career Professionalisation - $5

• New Zealand Archives Futures: Essays in Honour of Michael Hoare - $22.50

Overseas o r d e r s should add $3 per item for additional post and packing. Quotations for bulk orders can be supplied.

All prices are in New Zealand dollars.