Log in ....Tribune

Monday, August 12, 2002
Feature

Is digital backup worth the effort?
You can read centuries-old books, but not decades-old computer archives
by Dough Alexander

IN a dimly lit room in a monastery in Egypt's isolated Sinai Peninsula, a Texan monk is fighting to save history. The dusty library of St. Catherine's Monastery is the home to one of the world's most important collections of ancient manuscripts — some dating back 1,500 years. These include the Codex Syriacus, a 5th century Bible. Father Justin, using hi-tech photographic equipment and a computer, has dedicated years to reproducing these brittle tomes onto compact discs, to preserve them for future scholars.

His work is admirable - but is it in vain? Chances are those CDs will be unreadable in a few decades, unless the world can find a better way to preserve digital information.

This isn't an age-old problem of conserving ancient books. It's a modern-day dilemma that exposes the Achilles' Heel of a technology-driven world.

A large share of information produced today in practically all areas of human activity is compiled and designed to be read on computers. But this trove of digital information may disappear - unless actions are taken today to conserve this material.

This affects everyone and anyone who enjoys listening to music CDs, watching DVD movies or browsing the gluttony of knowledge on CD ROMs. Even if these ubiquitous silver disks survive the next 40 years - which is unlikely - chances are computers in 2042 won't be capable of reading what will then be considered 'ancient technology'. If this sounds alarmist, just think of those 5.25-inch floppy disks used in computers of the eighties. Emails, images from digital cameras, Internet Websites, computer documents, videos, digital art - they're all at risk. "It's being called the digital time bomb," says Helen Shenton, head of collections care at the British Library. "If we don't do something we're going to lose the whole lot."

It's already happening.

Last year Reuters reported that a California neurobiologist had asked NASA for data that Viking probes sent back from Mars in the mid-1970s. The American space agency turned up 25-year-old computer tapes in a format that couldn't be read. Only the programmers knew the software. And they are dead.

In 1986 the British Broadcasting Corporation launched an ambitious project to create the modern equivalent of the 11th-century Doomesday Book, which gave a snapshot of England in 1086.

More than a million persons participated in the massive undertaking, and the results were recorded on specially designed videodiscs. While visitors to the British Library can still see the original 916-year-old book, the BBC's efforts from only 16 years ago remain unreadable by today's technology.

These blunders expose technology's downside. Computer software and hardware are constantly replaced by ever more powerful new generations that ultimately become incompatible with their predecessors. Within a few years digital material - sounds, graphics, databases, Internet links - becomes inaccessible.

The British Library, Britain's legal depository, has been working with national archives and libraries worldwide to find ways to preserve digital information. Its own efforts involve transferring digital information to a format that can be accessed by current and future technologies.

Such efforts require transferring digitised information to newer formats as technology advances - a costly process that sacrifices the authentic format. Others suggest 'emulators' - devices that mimic older technology - to ensure that outdated material can still be read.

Some computer scientists argue that digital storage is so cheap that everything should be archived and, if needed in future, use "digital archaeology" to retrieve it.

These differing thoughts divide archivists, governments, scientists and businesses on the best way to store bits and bytes. UNESCO (United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organisation) has been working to define a standard to guide governments' digital preservation efforts. The UN agency has started a consultation process to produce guidelines to ensure the world does not lose invaluable work by scientists and artists and so that future historians aren't deprived of information about today's world. Storage technology isn't infallible, either. Magnetic tapes - used in audio-cassettes, videotapes and computer disks - erode over time. CDs and CD-ROMs aren't expected to last more than two to three decades.

The Washington-based Council on Literary and Information Resources (CLIR), which has been working with the US Library of Congress, says the problem is both a storage and technological obsolescence.

"The problem is serious largely because storage formats are not stable and equipment becomes obsolete," CLIR President Deanna Marcum says. "The real danger isn't that information will be lost but how this information can be accessed in the future."

CLIR has been advocating for those who produce digital material to physically identify at creation how information has been recorded - the solution could be as simple as sticking a label on a disk.

"At the time of creation, think about what needs to happen to this material in the future and do what you can to let people know how this information was created," she said.

"Problems can be prevented if time and attention is given to the long-term maintenance of digital information."

Those who make a career out of peering into the future see opportunities in saving digital history.

"What we've got to do is come up with a storage plan, every city should have one," Canadian futurist Frank Ogden says. "We have to create a whole new type of institution, essentially."

Ogden, also known as Dr Tomorrow, suggests digital information should be stored in repositories deep inside mountains or underground to guard against war, global warming and radiation. These vaults should have what Ogden calls a "technology museum" where old machines are kept.

Lessons can be learnt from the global leaders of digital archiving. Pharmaceutical firms, oil exploration corporations, toxic waste industry and the scientific community - all are charged with the task of conserving records beyond a lifetime.

Yet despite the best efforts to protect all those bits and bytes, the irony remains: those fragile parchments that have gathered dust in St. Catherine's Monastery for 15 centuries have already lasted far longer than any digital medium ever will.

 

— Gemini News