The current bane of my existence is underdocumented policy. These are policies that were formulated, usually about 10 years ago–but sometimes as many as 25 or as little as 5–according to the various rules and contracts at our university, but which exist only as photocopies in somebody’s file cabinet. Sometimes “somebody” is the right person, but sometimes “somebody” is the person who chaired an ad hoc committee over a decade ago.
Underdocumented policies are a problem because, obviously, most people don’t follow them. What’s more, people frequently convince themselves that whatever outcome they need is “the way we’ve always done it,” but then an underdocumented policy statement will emerge showing that, in fact, 10 years ago, the university adopted a very different policy.
You might think that this is no longer a problem: underdocumented policy is an artifact of yellowing photocopies mouldering in file cabinets, and in our new digital fairyland it’s not going to be a problem. But this isn’t necessarily true:
Does the policy exist on the web, or in some office? If the answer is “some office,” is the office the one that faculty members would think to check? Policies and by-laws should, where possible, be posted online.
File format is more important than many people think. (Not everyone, I know. Historians, librarians, scholars of electronic literature, computer scientists, and others think about this a lot.) Files should be posted in open standards, not closed. HTML or XML files, not .DOC. Anything that exists only in a proprietary format risks disappearing down the memory hole.
The most important guideline isn’t technology-related: If “everyone does” something a particular way, then there needs to be a policy (or, maybe, a how-to guide) somewhere. Especially if it has to with the following magical areas: money, load credit (hours for teaching, reassigned time, etc.), review, promotion or tenure, sabbatical, buying things with institutional money, or anything that has to with status (whether it’s electing a chair, deciding who gets to teach a particular class, or who gets first dibs on office or lab space). Relying on the good will and flexibility of people is, in effect, the same as saying “Please sue me / screw me over.” The policy should be developed in consultation with any other office that might have a stake in the issue, and it needs to be compared with similar policies in other departments. If it’s not, then inequities will emerge over time that are remarkably difficult to address.
Being proactive about this, especially at the departmental or faculty senate level, is important to preserve academic freedom and shared governance. In the absence of a clearly-written policy, the default choice in every situation is going to be either the “one that’s cheapest” or “the one that fits the current administration’s priorities” (which may/may not align with yours).
On Twitter this morning Jonathan Goodwin asked what should be done about old policies or minutes–should they be scanned? By whom? This is a most excellent question. I’ll duck it and say: Job #1 is to stop digging. We need to start documenting our processes better now. [Updated to correct head-slapping error pointed out in comments.]
UPDATE 2: The Chronicle’s Tech Therapy podcast has a comparable discussion, rooted in the IT side of the house.
Do you have war stories about underdocumented policies? Ideas for how to smoke ‘em out? Let us know in comments!
Image by flickr user jurvetson / CC Licensed



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10 Responses to Institutional Memory in a Digital Age
Jason B. Jones - September 30, 2009 at 9:20 pm
Sorry, Jonathan–I’d've remembered that on a different afternoon.
At any rate, I actually assumed you meant “who pays”–a not inconsiderable cost! Also, some photocopiers will scan things now, so rather than hunched over the scanner, someone could run the paper through the copier. Still mind-numbing, but possibly more ergonomic. :-)
Jonathan - September 30, 2009 at 6:25 pm
Oh how I regret not choosing a different gmail user name. “C” is my middle initial, but I don’t go by “Jon” and certainly not by “Jon C.”
I was thinking, as you could probably guess, of student workers and administrative personnel hunched over the scanner for days.
Robert Wolff - September 30, 2009 at 10:09 pm
Posting policies — well-documented or not — online is a good thing, but it’s also important to make sure that are protocols indicating what happens when policies are updated. Most people who maintain academic websites don’t realize that faculty and staff see the web as this magical place where nothing ever dies. When new policies appear on the web, however, old ones often disappear. But sometimes you don’t need to know what the policy is now, but what it was. Who has the authority to edit policies on your school’s websites? Are they date-stamped in some fashion? Bottom line: if the policy is likely to matter to you, keep a copy electronically on your own. For some things (dare I say it?), you might even want a hard copy.
Jason B. Jones - October 1, 2009 at 9:18 am
I saw this in the Open Thread, too–this will probably rise to the level of a post, but I think that some form of XML is the way to go.
I hate PDFs. (It’s slightly off-topic here, but: If you really want to see me lose it, send an e-mail, with HTML turned on, that’s blank except for a signature, but with a giant .doc, .ppt, or .pdf attachment containing the content of the message.)
Jason B. Jones - October 1, 2009 at 7:17 am
There’s probably a future post on “what you need to do to put something online.” Plus, I would hope that policies and by-laws would have effective dates.
This might also be an argument for using a platform such as a wiki that has versioning.
But I do want to push back against the idea that the bottom line should be to keep a copy for yourself, because a policy that only you know about isn’t a policy at all.
Robert Wolff - October 1, 2009 at 8:09 am
This suggests a two-tiered strategy: 1) fight like hell to keep policies that matter organized and accessible, even as they change over time; and, 2) do whatever you must to ensure that your success or happiness doesn’t depend entirely upon the forward thinking of others.
Jason B. Jones - October 1, 2009 at 9:13 am
I was just about to edit my comment: Self-protection is a good thing, obviously, so there’s no reason for this not to run in tandem.
Arguably this is a form of mentoring, too: “We’ll make these policies publicly/permanently available for the benefit of junior faculty now and in the future,” (assuming that universities ever start hiring again).
Drew - October 1, 2009 at 8:19 am
I know this is minutia, but I am curious as to the best format to archive text (aside from PDF? to make it changeable?)
dance - October 4, 2009 at 12:02 pm
My dept just set up a Blackboard site for the faculty, and I am waging a campaign to turn it into an archive before the office manager who has been here for 8 years leaves, taking a ton of institutional memory with her.
Though, honestly—there will always be a third-party selling a .doc converter (for at least the next 50 years. And if a policy wasn’t referenced or checked out in 50 years, I can’t imagine it really applies).
John Laudun - October 5, 2009 at 10:09 pm
Well, as one of two people who seem somehow to be at the root of Jonathon’s anguish, I can report that his question arises precisely because we are trying, with or without subtly, to suggest that all policies should reside within a larger, living document. Now, it just so happens that whether or not something is on paper or stored in bits does not determine whether a document is living or not. All that requires is that people refer to it regularly and seek to revise it as times change so that it remains pertinent to their lives. (But, yes, digital documents are eminently more open to change.)