When reflecting on the care of historical items maintained in institutions through the years, one thinks about the shift in physical management based on the evolution of technology, resources, implementation of datasets, and other organizational techniques. Just as these practical applications have evolved, we are beginning to see discussion of an equally important movement through the incorporation of empathy and care of the groups either represented or affected by the collection, as well as digital repatriation of cultural heritage materials. In essence, it gives a voice to the people and their story in a way that it may not have been heard before.
Digital repatriation ideally allows a community or people to lead or control how their images are shared and understood. For some indigenous tribes, for example, certain items may be considered sacred, and tradition dictates limited access to only certain members. Other times, the use of such items may have been misunderstood, and the information provided by outside interpretation may have been incorrect and perpetuated over time. Through the power of the rightful owners being allowed access and given authority to curate the images, these issues may be rectified, and the story told in their truth. On many occasions, the implementation of specialized platforms such as Mukurtu, can allow for multiple levels of access within the same website, thus giving the owner the control to protect and hold sacred what needs limited access and yet open in other areas for more general usage.
In many cases, the rightful owner of the digital archives is readily evident. However, as time passes and changes happen, particularly for older collections, ownership is not always so cut and dry. While ideally, if two or more parties claim rights of ownership, they could work together in co-curating, this is not always the case, especially with the concept of digital imaging, rights, and ethics being so new. Who truly owns it? Who should have a say in how it is accessed? Curated? Delivered? Interpreted? Who should own the rights to the money that such items generate? The questions continue to evolve, and along with it, both ethical and legal quandaries. In the end, perhaps it is the original reflection of care and empathy that should have the louder voice, for what is legal is not always just.
Jamie, thank you for your reflection on digital repatriation and digital archives more broadly. Your post reminds me of a key concept called “shared authority” which is used more frequently in public history contexts (but applies to really any work involved with community engagement). Shared authority refers to the idea that an institution (physical or digital) breaks down hierarchies of power by centering collaboration with the communities represented in their work. As you point out, the processes for managing materials is rapidly changing, especially in a digital context. Efforts like digital repatriation, although different from physical repatriation, signals a key step towards working more closely with a community on the “return” of their belongings by facilitating digital access. Such processes are not perfect, and in many ways present more questions than answers. As you rightly suggest, care should be at the center of this work!