Monthly Archives: February 2014

My last post drew a comment from a reader who is looking at web sites which preserve information about political activism.  His project sounds interesting but I couldn’t offer any advice because my records experiences all are Federal and don’t involve discretionary formulation of collection policies.  Instead, I am dependent, as is the National Archives and Records Administration (NARA), on records management functions.

Many of the issues that surround NARA and record keeping in Washington are complicated.  Rarely do discussions of them look at records throughout their life cycle.  As I discovered in engaging on archives and records listservs, it is challenging  to find that even in professional forums.  I touched on one aspect of the Listservs–the thorny thicket of “it’s political!”–in my response to the reader comment to “Color Palettes:  Archives and Records.”

I’ve tried out both archives and records management listservs over the years. Right now, I am subscribed to two SAA Listservs but not the main one, Archives & Archivists (A&A).  When Alexander Howard (@Digiphile) tweeted a link to an article in which Open Government advocates spoke about changing Freedom of Information Act exemptions, I asked him:  “any thots on ‘chilling effect’ (taking sm Fed deliberations off-rec system or oral, losing thm 4ever 4 access, history, NARA )?”  @Digiphile favorited my Tweet.

Among other things, I was thinking back on a web conversation I once had with John Earl Haynes, who observed in 2003:

“Maarja Krusten is all too right about the disastrous effects on the historical record of legally mandated rapid disclosure of policy making records of public officials enacted in the late 1970s and later. These mandates resulted in a pigs in mud golden era for journalists with their near-term agenda and “gotcha” mentality, and, to be sure, allowed historians of the 1960s and 1970s to gain access to records much sooner than they otherwise would have had. But the trade-off has been catastrophic for future historians. Pre-emptive sanitization of the record is not episodic but nearly universal among policy making officials and their staffs since the mid-1970s.”

I often think of Haynes’ concluding observation,

“We were not at all unusual. In my post-political role as an acquirer of historical records, the drastic diminution of the richness of the record between those created before the mid-1970s and later is obvious.The practical result of legally mandated rapid disclosure of the records of policy makers has been to impoverish the historical record. Records not created are not available, ever, for historical research.”

Former White House counsel Lloyd Cutler wrote about diminished record keeping during the Clinton administration in an opinion piece in the Washington Post  (“Washington Writer’s Block,” May 16, 1997). He noted that because of fear of subpoenas, “taking notes of a meeting on a sensitive subject has become the rare exception rather than the rule.”

Cutler observed, “This drought in note-writing and diary-keeping will be very bad for the presidency, as well as for journalism, biography and history. Presidents and Cabinet members need to have frank advice, written as well as oral. Their aides — including their lawyers — need to take notes to record their discussions and impressions and to execute their assignments with accuracy.”

Cutler wrote that “If government note-taking and memo-writing dry up, or if the notes and memos are routinely destroyed the next day, journalists, biographers and historians will have a much thinner supply of written materials on which to base their work.”

One of the greatest disappointments in my decades long attempts (I’ve now thrown in the towel) to discuss records and archives issues at Archives & Archivists Listserv and Recmgmt-L was that it did not prove possible to discuss the many elements that affect the environment in which senior leaders in Washington operate.  The refrain “But Clinton did!” (which I alluded to in my morning reply comment) got in the way at times.

Still, I’ve learned a lot.  Strategic vision and tactical thinking are interesting to observe in how NARA issues are discussed by outsiders.  Early in my blogging days I referred to the fact that one issue I’ve never heard conservative archivists or records managers address is why the strongest public pressure on the National Archives has come from the Republican side.  I explained in my last blog post why I knew about the hold on the Archivist’s nomination in 2009 long before it was revealed in the press but never mentioned it publicly.

The way I look at tactical issues is that if I still were a Republican (I’ve been Independent since 1989), I would look to mitigate the impact of what The Washington Times did in 1994 and how Vice President Dick Cheney’s office handled issues related to NARA during the Bush administration.

That a self-identified Conservative, @Rainbyte, tweeted to me last week “you have a visceral hatred of the WT” truly was a SMH moment for me.  The tendentious reporting of issues in which I tangentially was a player in 1994 by virtue of having been made the subject of a complaint simply undermined my trust in the way the newspaper reported archival issues.

I easily rebutted the allegation made about me in 1994.  We do hold our reputations in our own hands, after all.  And I trusted the Inspector General operation during Trudy’s tenure.  Its officials operated in a low key manner and I had no fear or hesitation in dealing with them.   Such perceptions matter, of course.

Writing in the liberal magazine, The Nation, David Corn observed of  NARA while Trudy Peterson was in charge,

“It. . . has been besieged by management problems and internal rifts, some boiling over onto the pages of the right-wing Washington Times, which has carried blistering articles on acting archivist Trudy Peterson. She is well regarded by leading historians and archivists but has peeved the right by assigning poor performance ratings to top archives officials. . . “

It proved impossible for me to start conversations on the Archives & Archivists Listserv or on Recmgmt-L on why the Reagan records issues that lay at the heart of the disputes that hit the press in 1994 played out as they did.  And why the Acting Archivist was attacked from the right.  But I understand that you control your own actions but not how anyone views you.  So I shook my head and laughed last week when @Rainbyte tweeted that I have “a visceral hatred of the WT.”

People hold the capital of trust in their own hands.  That applies to us all.  Even in Washington.

A recent article (disappointingly poorly reported) about administrative actions involving the National Archives’ Inspector General and players outside NARA drew predictable comments from ordinary readers who used simple political framing.  But one comment zeroed in on the issue of trust.

“An Inspector General cannot compel trust from those employees [whose?] concerns about agency operations he looks into. He or she earns trust within a critical mass of employees within an agency—or not. Trust is precious capital and the IG the sole accountable officer in handling the capital. The capital of trust lies in the hands of the official who holds an IG function alone. It is affected by far more than press coverage (which can help or hinder its accumulation) or issued reports. This applies to all Inspectors General, regardless of method of appointment.

Trust depends on a delicate mix of elements. The opinions of outsiders (on the Hill, in the press) are irrelevant to the process of building or destroying employee trust. They are not dependents in the process.

Trust cannot be built or rebuilt by compulsion or outside reporting or by the Hill. This part of the job every IG must (or should—it cannot be required despite being a critical element) face on his or her own from the time he or she first assumes a position in an agency or department. Trust in an IG is solely employee-owned, employee-granted, and employee-driven.

This is a separate matter from the adjudicatory process and affects all Inspectors General, whether facing administrative action or not. Without a critical mass of support by the most vulnerable people in an agency—ordinary line employees and their managers—an IG wounds him or herself. Such wounds need not be mortal—one can walk in Washington with them. But they can be crippling, all the more so for being self-inflicted.”

Archival educators say they use some of the links to news stories on A&A in the classroom.  But when I asked how they unpacked complicated agendas and background information that provide needed context, none answered.   I’ll always wonder what might have been the result on the two Listservs I once engaged on, had it proven possible for subscribers to debate the many news stories involving NARA using the fine brushstrokes and vivid colors that I believe they deserve.

Washington truly is a fascinating place to study from the inside.  As I said recently in looking at the way the Big Dude, aka AOTUS David S. Ferriero handled his elevator speech, which I talked to him about at NARA yesterday, my elevator speech would reflect what I have learned about life in the nation’s capital.  (I’ll explain why I was at NARA and how I talked to Ferriero in my next post.)  I care deeply about NARA’s mission, which David described so well when he wrote last year about celebrating passion and accomplishment.

Context matters.  Oh, how it matters.

I’ve got a train to catch.  Later, readers!  February 28, 2014:  Later is now! Here is the answer to the questions I raised in this post–and how I see the future!  “The Power of the Team.”  March 1, 2014:  And this is my resolution of how things played out with my “Context” post in the Listserv forums I mentioned:  “Honor.”

Mendelssohn’s Piano Trio in D Minor playing in the background as I write this post.  I spent some time last night thinking about framing.  In a delightful surprise, I connected late in the day with Steven Flowers, the human resources learning official at the National Archives and Records Administration (NARA) whom I’ve mentioned here at Nixonara recently.  Our genial conversation helped clear the air on a number of issues.

I very much appreciate that Steve and I connected and I had that opportunity.   Continual learning!  Yes, I believe in it.

A 60-second news video feature on a snowstorm last Thursday included a clip  of a reporter on 7th street in the Gallery Place neighborhood of Washington. CNN filmed the segment just up the street from NARA early in the morning as snow fell.   The reporter asked a passerby, “what are you doing out here?”

The man laughed and replied, “I’m the Archivist of the United States.  I’m going to be down there taking care of the Declaration of Independence.”  The Big Dude, aka AOTUS David S. Ferriero, had his Elevator Speech ready.

The video clip had its dramatic framing established from the start, beginning with the words, “Better Stay Home!”

The Big Dude seemed unfazed.  I laughed and thought, “way to rep NARA!”

I am so very lucky.  I’ve had many joyous moments at the National Archives in recent years.  One I took special care to make happen was introducing my former boss, NARA Nixon tapes unit supervisor Fred Graboske, to David Ferriero in December 2011.   A photo snapped by an official of the Foundation for the National Archives captured a moment that had a high degree of significance for me.   That I brought my former boss to NARA and introduced him to David was my gift to Fred.  I cherish the fact that I was able to give him that gift.

As I recounted at my blog at the time, David, Fred, and I talked a bit about the Vietnam War during that reception at NARA.  Both men saw military service in Vietnam, Fred with the U.S. Army in 1968, David with the U.S. Navy in 1970.  I went through my undergraduate years in Washington, D.C. during the war.

Fred and I worked in a trailblazer unit at the National Archives.  We were the first archivists to apply public control to disclosure review of presidential records.  And the first to undertake systematic processing of so large a body of non-textual records, 3,700 hours of Nixon’s secret White House tapes, aided by the technology available at the time.  There were archival, technological, managerial, and legal challenges interwoven in to our experiences.  An intensely rich and fascinating journey.

Even before I joyously reconnected with NARA in 2011, I sometimes said I wouldn’t trade the experience for anything.  You learn so very much about human nature when working at the nexus of records, history, knowledge, and legacy.  Including what it feels like to have mud flung at you by people who hold so much more power than you do.  If asked about my 40 years (and counting) in public service, I think “you learn so much about people” would be part of my elevator speech.

Over the holiday weekend, I read a story in the New York Times about a forthcoming conference on Civil Rights at the NARA administered Lyndon B. Johnson Presidential Library.  The framing of the article–the Vietnam War–is reflected in the title, “Rescuing a Vietnam Casualty:  Johnson’s Legacy.”  The quotes from Johnson’s family were poignant as also some of the comments under the article, some from Americans who had served in Vietnam.  The issues are so complex, so complicated.  Deserving of more than bumper sticker reductionism, yet often reduced to them, then and at times even now.

Two years ago, I wrote here about the ultimate impossibility of ever knowing about anyone else, even as a historian.

“Some subjects of biographies reveal more about themselves than others do.  Edmund Morris discussed that in an article in The Toledo Blade to which my friend David Emig recently linked on Facebook.  Morris observed, ‘All characters are going to have areas of secrecy and mystery which just cannot be penetrated. The challenge is to acknowledge this ultimate impossibility of really penetrating into the soul of anybody. And some characters are more mysterious and enigmatic than others.’”

The same is true for everyone to some degree.

The story of governance is so very interesting.  I wish I saw more deep thinking in features about the nexus of records, archives, history and legacy than I have since I first walked through the doors of Archives 1 as a NARA employee on December 6, 1976.  Including what we know, what we don’t, and how we handle what we don’t know.  And what we wish those outside Fedland knew about us but don’t.  And how it feels to be reduced to stock figures at times.

And I think of one of my favorite posts at AOTUS blog, one which Ferriero wrote after the death of Steve Jobs.   In “Life is Short,” David quoted Jobs’s well known commencement speech at Sanford.

“Your time is limited, so don’t waste it living someone else’s life.  Don’t be trapped by dogma, which is living with the results of other people’s thinking.  Don’t let the noise of others’ opinions drown out your own inner voice, heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become.”

David added,

“The older I get the more I do feel that my time is limited.  And I’m trying hard to help people discover and heed their own inner voice, heart and intuition.  But most importantly, I am working on tempering my own ‘noise.'”

Most of us don’t share the legacy burdens presidents, their families, and associates do.  And yet we all think at times about how others view or judge us. As I’ve observed here at times of Fedland, “some of what we face, we face alone and we do not share.”   

But what about what we do choose to share?  I wonder at times if I make myself too vulnerable here at my blog because I share joy when I feel it.  Am I at risk of being reduced to a stock figure, judged by the extent to which I cherish the archival vision, what is unknown–and there’s much I never discuss here at Nixonara–not taken in to account?    To say nothing of the “ultimate impossibility” Morris discussed?

But then I think, “life is short, be yourself.”  And I do heed my inner voice, heart and intuition, instead.  There is a sense of liberation once you accept how much you can’t control.

Jobs was right.  Ferriero is right.

Just represent.  As best we can.

In October 2010, the National Archives and Records Administration (NARA) released the Charter for Change.  The Big Dude, aka AOTUS David S. Ferriero, blogged about it in a post, “Open to Change.”  I read it but was not one of 74 people, many NARA employees, who responded affirmatively to his concluding question, “Are you in?”

I found the Charter intriguing and found the call for courage and creativity refreshing.  But I only came to embrace its vision fully in May 2011 after I got to know David.  That is when I decided the road ahead was one I wanted to walk on with him and his team.

I still find the aspirational vision beautiful.  But there clearly are growth opportunities.

A NARA social media official, Jill James, once posted a brief comment at my blog in 2012.  James responded when I asked in “The Psych of Tech” why IdeaScale was being used in a way that unnecessarily humiliated named NARA employees.   Despite the topic, my 2012 post was much more light hearted in tone than this one is.  I felt then that there are ways to hit Open Gov marks in Washington and still treat employees with respect.  Employee goodwill shouldn’t be squandered under the best of circumstances and certainly not during a time of change.   

I already was hearing from friends in various units at NARA in the summer of 2011 that addressing issues relating to social media and engagement was unsafe, third rail.  I touched on them sparingly, not sure as to why I was being waved off repeatedly.  But after I figured out why NARA was using IdeaScale, I stopped discussing it here at my blog in 2012.  Very complicated situation, as it turned out.  Now, in 2014, I continue to hear from friends that to discuss some Office of Innovation issues candidly in NARA is perceived as third rail.

Yesterday morning, an official of NARA’s Office of Innovation, Dannielle Blumenthal, posted a comment in her personal capacity under my last blog post (“Heart in the Digital Age”).  She said she has been reading my blog (Blumenthal is new to NARA so most likely is a relatively new reader).  But it’s clear from her comments that we’re talking past each other.  There are information asymmetry issues, as well.  Things she does not know that are related to Open and Hidden Washington, I’ll leave it at that.

I was deeply disappointed in the first blog post I read at the Innovation office’s blog. (I tried it out for about a month, then stopped, the experience was so dispiriting for me.)  A December 2013 post asking if there is a recipe for “innovation” carried selected quotes from employees.  The post at the Innovation “dispatches” blog included a passage in which a NARA official quoted Machiavelli.  That it was highlighted as particularly apt was a #headdesk moment for me.

Blumenthal quoted that same official, Steven Flowers, in her comment to me yesterday.  What is there to say when someone whose comment you’ve protested (“We Are Not Your Enemies”) is mentioned to you for a second time as an example in NARA?  In my case, not much.*[see 02/19/14 note below]

Does it matter?  Of course.  Am I going to explain why?  No.  Am I going to stop raising questions about the Office of Innovation here if I have them?  No. Especially if its presentations appear to pseudo psychoanalyze NARA’s employees.   Doing so does not fit NARA’s values, people shouldn’t do it to others if they wouldn’t want it done to themselves, and line staff especially do not deserve it.

Treating people like case study subjects when as a NARA official you have a public platform to share speculative views on employees’ motivation and feelings when they cannot correct you (much less share their views of other aspects of the situation) is wrong.  It is unfair.  It is divisive.  And it erodes goodwill.  It has no place in a culture truly aiming for transformation.

If I were writing this blog post in November or early December, I could tell you what I think the road ahead is for NARA.  Right now, after seeing in public Innovation issues friends in the agency only had described to me previously, I don’t know.   The challenges seem greater than I realized.

I can tell you I still support the Charter for Change.  And not just because I am a stakeholder, hence dependent on the National Archives.  I’ve described here how I view the agency, its people, generally and specifically, and its mission.  I hope the Big Dude succeeds in bringing about meaningful change at NARA.  

You can read Blumenthal’s comment and my not very responsive response under my last blog post at the link above or by clicking in the comments column at the right.

*02/19/14–Update regarding Steven Flowers here: https://nixonara.wordpress.com/2014/02/19/represent/