Brahms. Violin Concerto. One of the enduring musical themes of my federal service. The Brahms concerto is the accompaniment to many of the long walks I take in Fedland. Listened to it often while working for the National Archives and Records Administration (NARA) during the 1980s, too. Obviously not while I was doing disclosure review on the Nixon tapes. (I like many of the same Romantic classical composers Nixon liked.) But while I was working on the Datapoint word processor, correcting Nixon Tape Subject Logs.
By the late 1980s, we NARA Nixon Presidential Materials Project archivists had developed an inchoate sense of possible trouble coming in the years to come. We didn’t know all that lay ahead, of course. To this day, I find the Brahms good music to listen to as I think things through in Washington. It’s playing this morning at home as I’m writing this post.
Fedland can be a complicated place to work. Walking is a two-fer for me, exercise and a way to get away from the office at lunch time and assess things or after work to think things through in the evening.
On Thursday @archivesnext tweeted a link to a beautiful speech about the archival mission at a recent meeting of the Mid-Atlantic Regional Archives Conference (“It’s What We Do That Counts.”) My first instinct was to join others in focusing on the beauty of the description of the value of archivists. But Washington got in the way.
Archives have similarities and differences among them. Collections development plays a critical role in some repositories while others depend on statutory records management to acquire the bulk of their holdings. Some creators of records work quietly out of the limelight. Others feel its glare. So I tweeted “lovely but little help 2 historians in Fedland<–critical lifecycle decisions r made in RM by executivs @ ‘digital fireplace.'”
The challenges faced by federal officials interest me greatly and not just because I’ve been working among them for 40 years. You learn so much about human beings by seeing how they handle difficult decisions and crises.
Where do we learn when to stand on principle, when to say “no,” and when to “go along to get along?” As with leadership, these are not lessons you learn in the classroom. And for many reasons, not all of which can be known, not everyone learns the same lessons. Part of the answer lies in innate qualities inside different people and the various life experiences they go through.
Sometimes, as former Secretary of Defense Robert Gates observed, you have to stand alone in the crowd and say, “No, that is not where we need to go, this is the way.” He relates this ability to having vision, to being able to look beyond one’s shoelaces and seeing what others can’t. But it goes beyond lack of vision or groupthink. The go along to get along tendencies (reinforced by systems of reward and recognition) in many bureaucratic organizations can weigh down initiatives by limiting chances for success. And most complicated of all, people may see themselves differently in the scenarios Gates describes than others see them.
I first learned of Gates’s speech when the Big Dude, aka AOTUS David S. Ferriero, wrote about it in June 2011. I actually read David’s post on the Shuttle riding back from Archives 2 on June 6, the day I first met then NARA Nixon Presidential Library director Tim Naftali. An inspirational blog post by the Big Dude, one I re-read from time to time. My comment upon reading the post and the pingback to the post I wrote about my visit to Archives 2 are under David’s June 2011 post at AOTUS blog.
Gates believes leadership lessons start early on. I think he’s right. People learn them even before they realize they are learning them. You see the process in Social Media sometimes–the person who goes the other way and points out a different take on an issue in the belief that it is okay to “think different” when so many are tweeting “cool!”
When I look for who says “no,” I don’t mean the negativity that sometimes leads some Twitter feeds to seem like “the complaint channel.” I mean people whose experiences or perspectives differ from those of others. And who know how to convey how they see things without being unpleasant or offensive. If you’re working in a knowledge and solution seeking organization, those are the people you want as part of the team. Or at least I do!
Saying no can be incredibly difficult. There is added pressure in venues where people are second guessed or their actions held up to scrutiny, in real time and retrospectively, more than others are.
In a column in Friday’s WaPo about former Deputy Attorney General James Comey, Garrett Graff, editor of Washingtonian magazine, writes about how he has handled difficult challenges in public service. Comey has described moments when he stood on principle as facing an oncoming freight train. In linking to video of Comey’s 2007 testimony about one such moment Thursday, Paul Kane called it the most riveting 20 minutes of hearing video in Washington.
Graff writes about a speech that Comey gave in 2006 in which he said, “It is extraordinarily difficult to be the attorney standing in front of the freight train.” Yet he saw it as his obligation. Graff refers to Comey’s “moral compass.” He explains, “Comey argued that officials must see the broader picture: The United States is a nation of laws. All government officials take the same oath, he said, promising allegiance not to the president, the party in power or even the American people — but to protect and defend the Constitution.”
Decisions such as the one Comey made are extremely tough, even more so than Gates conveyed in his thoughtful speech at the Naval Academy in 2011. What Graff quotes from Comey below reminds me of some of the insights shared at the National Archives in October by 2011 by retired government officials and historians describing the events of the Berlin Crisis 1961. Learning about decision making at senior levels depends on a mix of what is in the records and what officials share about their perspectives on those events later. Some are more reflective and self aware than others, of course.
You don’t know what you don’t know as you have to decide what you should do. And you don’t know how things will turn out. Comey laid this out clearly as it applies to hindsight and what he sees as officials’ responsibilities while events unfold.
“We know that our actions, and those of the agencies we support, will be held up in a quiet, dignified, well-lit room, where they can be viewed with the perfect, and brutally unfair, vision of hindsight. We know they will be reviewed in hearing rooms or courtrooms where it is impossible to capture even a piece of the urgency and exigency felt during a crisis,” he said. “ ‘No’ must be spoken into a storm of crisis, with loud voices all around, with lives hanging in the balance. . . .”
Comey focused on investigations. K. C. Johnson has observed that fewer historians study and write about presidential level and governmental leadership and management now than in the past. (I very much enjoyed his preso at a historians forum and chatting with him last year.) But many still come to well-lit rooms in NARA’s facilities to examine the records that reveal some of how government works. In the future, more of that light will shine from screens as more records go online.
I am passionate about the mission of the National Archives for many reasons, and not just my past experiences which included testifying under unexpectedly challenging circumstances in the Nixon tapes litigation in 1992 as a federal witness. But also because I have such deep respect for NARA and for the many good people who work there quietly behind the scenes, outside the spotlight. The Big Dude described that mission last year when he said “There’s no filter here. It’s the high points and the low points of our government history. We only try to provide context whereby we can encourage the public to discover the past for themselves.” David gets it, of course, as do many members of the NARA team who work for him.
What about others? The spotlight from those I follow in my Twitter feed is on digitization and sharing information and data. (This weekend civic hacking will be a theme in that feed, I can bet on that.) All good. But so much goes on behind the scenes at archival institutions before members of the public gain access to information shared via Social Media and web portals. For starters, the right information has to be saved for transfer in to the holdings for researchers to study.
For agencies such as NARA, that means scheduling records and providing guidance for their management. Complicated these days when records are a mix of paper and electronic. And when people at the end of the life cycle of records — the researchers — largely have not yet seen the impact of policy decisions on how long federal agencies should hold title to records before transferring to NARA. And how e-records should be taken in (ingested). To say nothing of environmental factors, including what may contribute to a chilling effect or lead to caution in putting thoughts in writing or preservation by those who create and receive records.
Archival institutions don’t do data dumps, of course. Do the executives who write email and create electronic records in the federal agencies and departments all understand that? No, of course not. They are busy doing “the work of government.” There are many reasons why they are many steps removed from the researchers who one day, among the ones with the best intentions and goals, at least (intent and motivations vary) will turn to NARA to understand what happened and why. Not all researchers think about what happens before they see the records they examine, of course.
Depending on the type of information in them and the pertinent statutes, records require screening and disclosure review before they become available to the public. National security classified documents require equity holder review under conditions few who haven’t done it appreciate fully. NARA’s Chief Operating Officer, Jay Bosanko, was right when he called that work “noble” in 2012. Some of the results are visible in public presentations and conferences held at Archives 1 and Archives 2.
Archives professionals at NARA’s headquarters and field facilities and the Presidential Libraries work quietly behind the scenes to process records. My favorite Social Media output from NARA includes products which provide insights in to some of that. I’d like to see more thought given to why such explanations are helpful in Fedland but understand that NARA has multiple goals to meet in what it does. My take on strategy and communications sometimes matches NARA’s, sometimes not. But I admire its overall goal of improving civic literacy. That comes through vividly in its public programing, exhibits, and physical and virtual presentations.
I enjoy talking to Ferriero and reading his AOTUS blog. I often link to David’s posts here at my own blog. In 2011, I praised Arian Ravanbakhsh’s post at Records Express about the scheduling of court records. It stood out for me as unusual in NARA’s Social Media output. I’m glad I got to tell Arian (pictured above) and David that I liked it in November 2011 at NARA’s Social Media fair. The National Declassification Center blog has included good essays on processes and procedures as well as on records in NARA’s collections. The beautiful essay preservation technician Michael Pierce wrote for Memorial Day is both poignant and informative. There are many “unsung heroes” at NARA, and not just in St. Louis!
Comey argues that federal officials need to see the broader picture. The more senior in rank a person is, the more he or she needs to have the ability to get the balance right on big picture perspective, how roles within an organization match up, and overall guidance on operational details handled by subordinates. The best officials never lose sight of stewardship obligations. Not just their own, but also how their team members handle objectives and assignments. Some of Comey’s values come through in his testimony and the quoted speech.
Historians are trained to think in very long arcs. That and thinking in terms of stewardship have helped me in going through challenging times in Fedland. So, too, Tim Naftali, who has advised young federal archives professionals to think in terms of the Constitution.
Not only am I committed to the processes that make up NARA’s mission, I have a deep desire to have the story of public service captured at its richest, most nuanced, and, at times, unexpected. For me, that is an important component of civic literacy. Yes, I read the Interwebs. I understand the complicated tangle of aproaches and motivations that are in the mix among those who write about what we do in Washington. That I know not everyone is an empiricist or a knowledge seeker doesn’t mean I don’t want the records saved. But it isn’t just up to people like me with my history and NARA background.
To what extent does knowledge that what officials do will be held up to scrutiny affect the records of government? For most people on the outside, the answers are unclear. Not only that, the question is not even on most outsiders’ radar screens. I see that in some of the writing about transparency and Open Gov in the news articles for which links sometimes appear on the Archives & Archivists Listserv and on Recmgmt-L. Most of those links draw no comments. Perhaps it has something to do with Return on Investment or cost benefit analysis but I don’t know. Little transparency on the question of why perspectives often are so narrow and conversations never started or cramped and limited in most archival and records management forums.
Inside Fedland, how things look depends on where you stand. The well-lit room can be a complicating factor. Getting people to admit it or address that is not easy. Can I get away with writing here what I once used to post on the A&A Listserv? Sure. For better or worse, every step in the handling of records depends on actions by and choices made by human beings. Some aspects of civic literacy depends on choices made along that life cycle. From the decision to put something down in writing or not to the steps NARA takes with the records designated as permanently valuable.
For some in Fedland, it’s a matter of checking off steps in a process, of saying “we have boxes, cardboard and electronic,” totalling the numbers of those boxes, and saying, “done!” or “success!” And that’s as far as it goes, tada, career benefits accrued. For others (yes, I know former NARA managers who work records management issues as contractors), there’s more to it than that. However, the increasing reliance in Fedland on contractors can be a complication in some situations. No, you won’t see that discussed on Recmgmt-L, either.
Yet the Fedland experience is so rich, so revelatory of how men and women act and what goes in to public service, not just in the “storm of crisis” but in policy making and the business of government. Whether the right records are saved depends in part on how much of that the players are willing to expose to history’s spotlight.
Some day, historians will learn more about James Comey’s journey. How much depends on decisions made in the handling of Federal Records Act and Presidential Records Act materials created while Allen Weinstein was AOTUS. For me, as a Fed, the values Comey expressed in the speech Graff quoted and Gates in his speech a few years later are immensely attractive. Both understood the concept of stewardship. But as some of the people I know among all ranks at NARA remind me as they go to Archives 1 and Archives 2 each day, so do many others who work largely outside the spotlight, on the difficult but exciting archival mission.




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