Preserving Culture in Pixels

As archives go virtual, can we protect history from technology’s relentless march?

As archives go virtual, we find ourselves at a pivotal crossroads in cultural preservation. Technologies such as 3D scanning, virtual reality, and digital archiving have ushered in a new era, transforming how we interact with and protect our heritage. Take, for example, the Smithsonian Institution’s Digitization Program: thousands of historical artefacts are now accessible from anywhere with an internet connection. Through digital archives, anyone from Idaho to Indonesia can step inside a museum without stepping outside. But the appeal of these initiatives goes beyond accessibility; digitisation also offers a lifeline to fragile artefacts, providing a means of conservation through virtual replicas that limit the handling of irreplaceable objects.

For the Smithsonian, these digital records serve as a safeguard, creating a backup in case of natural disasters, deterioration, or loss. The Smithsonian Open Access project, launched in 2020, underscores this shift. With over three million digital assets freely available, it opens the vaults of one of the world’s most esteemed cultural institutions. Similarly, the British Library’s digitization efforts for its manuscript collections reveal an urgent drive to protect priceless items from time’s inevitable wear.

But what happens when the digital lifelines we’re creating are as fragile as the artefacts they’re meant to save? Herein lies the paradox of digital preservation. As quickly as technology advances, it also leaves old formats and platforms in the dust. The ephemerality of digital data—servers can fail, file formats can become obsolete, and platforms can simply disappear—presents a new kind of threat to history, one that’s digital rather than physical. The Aaron Swartz documentary The Internet’s Own Boy highlights this tension. Swartz, a vocal advocate for open access, contended that freely available digital information should be a public good. His message, however, serves as a cautionary reminder of the short life cycle of our technological innovations and the looming potential for cultural erasure.

Consider the uncomfortable implications for global heritage: if the wrong server crashes, or if proprietary formats go unsupported, the cultural artefacts we’ve so carefully digitised could vanish. Dave Eggers’ dystopian novel The Circle explores the disturbing edge of this idea, examining what happens when our data outpaces our ability to protect it. Eggers’ narrative shows a near-future where the drive to catalogue everything can itself distort, even undermine, personal and cultural identity.

The challenges don’t end with technological obsolescence. The ethics of digitising cultural artefacts are increasingly fraught with questions of sensitivity and representation. It’s not only about preserving artefacts but also about respecting the histories they embody. The National Museum of the American Indian, for example, is vigilant in ensuring that its digitised Native American collections honour the cultural contexts they represent. In a world where one misstep can easily become viral, cultural institutions must navigate the nuances of preservation while respecting the origins of the material they steward.

And yet, there is undeniable promise in the digital revolution’s ability to engage and educate. Through interactive exhibits, virtual reality experiences, and educational apps, institutions are finding new ways to cultivate a shared understanding of cultural heritage. Google Arts & Culture, a platform offering virtual museum tours, makes it possible for anyone to visit the Uffizi Gallery or the Musée d'Orsay from the comfort of home. This kind of access can foster connections across continents and generations. The Smithsonian Channel’s Secrets of the Museum takes a similar approach, pairing cutting-edge digital media with the storytelling of artefacts. In doing so, it engages younger generations and encourages them to appreciate—and protect—our collective history.

So where does this leave us? As the digital era continues to unfold, we face an undeniable tension between preservation and the pace of progress. By investing in robust preservation strategies and remaining sensitive to the cultural implications of our digital work, we might sustain our heritage against the sometimes fickle nature of digital technology. At this crossroads, there’s an opportunity to create a legacy that honours the past, enriches the present, and ensures that future generations don’t inherit a virtual void but a vibrant, accessible archive.

As we peer into the vast and uncharted digital horizon, we must ask: will these technologies protect our heritage—or will they render it more precarious than ever?