Assessing ACMI’s approach to digital obsolescence.
ACMI is Australia’s national museum of screen culture, located at Federation Square, Melbourne upon the lands of the Wurundjeri people. Its collection focuses on film, television, video games and digital culture, with a wide-ranging archive celebrating Australian culture and impact through media. Unlike a traditional gallery with a collection focused on physical objects, ACMI’s core territory is digital culture itself, media reliant on hardware, software and platforms that are constantly changing and evolving.
Digital obsolescence is not a new issue, nor is ACMI the first institution to grapple with it. Jeff Rothenberg’s 1995 article “Ensuring the Longevity of Digital Documents” is largely considered the foundational text on the subject. Setting the scene with grandchildren in 2045 unable to access a CD because the required equipment was no longer available, Rothenberg argues that digital information is only as accessible as the technical infrastructure needed to interpret it, and this is the central long-term threat facing digital preservation practice.
By ACMI’s opening in 2002, the cultural sector had already been grappling with the “digital dark age” for the better part of a decade. Today every institution faces digital fragility to an extent, however for many it remains a manageable, secondary concern. ACMI is fundamentally different. The core subject is screen and digital culture; therefore obsolescence is not a risk to the collection, but a condition of it. Whilst inconvenient, a gallery of paintings can lose its digital catalogue and rebuild. ACMI is not afforded this luxury, the collection is digital culture. For ACMI, an obsolete format does not cost a few scans and a forgotten database, it costs the collection itself.
In this context, digital obsolescence refers to the risk that media will become increasingly inaccessible due to aging and unsupported formats, storage, hardware and software. ACMI’s Collection Development Strategy addresses the situation directly, stating that “the fragility of formats, rapid technological obsolescence and access to ageing practitioners determines that we must act decisively to ensure the long-term availability of this heritage.” This report frames this urgency as a foundation for examining both the technical challenges of digital preservation and existing comparative examples that may help to address them. Is digital obsolescence simply a technical and infrastructural issue, or a larger institutional and philosophical question? What does it mean to preserve a culture built on inherently temporary technologies?
Three Kinds of Obsolescence
The term digital obsolescence does not refer to a single issue; instead, it encompasses at least three distinct issues. Each requires a different response, so it is crucial not to conflate them. For this report, digital obsolescence is divided into three main categories: carrier obsolescence, format obsolescence, and practitioner obsolescence.
Carrier Obsolescence
Carrier obsolescence is the most familiar of the three. This is defined as the physical failure of the storage object itself. For instance, a DVD scratched beyond laser readability, or a hard drive motor seizing after years of heavy use. This form is comparatively easy to catch because warning signs often appear early, allowing technicians to address the issue before total failure.
Format Obsolescence
Format obsolescence is the quietest of the three. The file remains intact, with no scratches, decay or visible signs of failure. However, what has disappeared is the support of the software required to open the file. Sometimes this is a program required to decode the file; other times, it means the erasure of a plug-in, operating software, or browser the file depends on to function. Either way, the format is obsolete, unsupported or no longer readable on modern systems, and the file becomes unreadable without ever being damaged. Bite the Bullet (2008) by Rho Jae Oon illustrates the latter: the file became completely unreadable in its original form after Adobe discontinued Flash Player in 2020.
Practitioner Obsolescence
Although the least technical of the three, practitioner obsolescence is arguably the hardest to reverse. The file is intact, the software still runs, yet the individual with the knowledge to install, configure, and troubleshoot the software and hardware is missing. This knowledge, largely due to staffing constraints and a lack of upskilling and education, is at risk of being lost. When a technician moves on, an institution risks being left with fully functional work, with no one available to keep it running. ACMI’s own Collection Development Strategy cites “access to ageing practitioners” as a key driver of digital obsolescence. Unlike the other two forms of digital obsolescence, practitioner obsolescence cannot be solved through software alone. Once the knowledge is lost, it becomes increasingly difficult to recover.
Over time, the risk of digital obsolescence has consistently been underestimated. At the dawn of the media age, institutions widely treated digital acquisitions as more durable and long-lasting than their physical counterparts. However, the evidence does not support this. Optical media, such as a CD, can remain readable for several decades when properly stored. On the other hand, hard drives are considerably less reliable, with industry data pointing to a median lifespan of six years and nine months, with only 65% of drives functioning after six years. This illustrates the potential vulnerability of older digital infrastructure, particularly for pieces acquired during the early years of digital media.
Academics have coined the term digital fragility to describe this phenomenon. Technology can look archaic within a decade, not because of build quality but because the systems the media depend on evolve faster than the preservation cycle built around them. The Victoria & Albert Museum's experience echoes this. Software-based works acquired as recently as the early 2010s have already failed in ways the museum's curators did not anticipate at the time of acquisition. For an institution dedicated to the “long-term availability” of its collection, a fifteen-year lifespan is a mismatch between what the piece can deliver and what was promised upon acquisition.
Despite this, this should not be read as proof that digital works are simply doomed to become obsolete. Writing on obsolescence in scholarly publishing, Fitzpatrick argues that much of what is prescribed as inherent digital fragility is, in fact, due to institutional choices. For instance, which formats continue to be supported, which software is allowed to become outdated and what technical knowledge is documented and taught before it is lost. Through this lens, obsolescence is not simply a fact of the medium. It is a responsibility of the institution in possession of the object to invest in its longevity before obsolescence occurs. Obsolescence is not inevitable but a resourcing decision.
In Comparison
Two institutional models offer useful comparisons for ACMI: Tate’s in-house conservation practice and the cross-institutional collaboration behind Matters in Media Art. Both examples operate on the same premise: digital works require active, ongoing conservation, not passive storage.
Tate
Tate’s Time-based Media Conservation team, established in the 1990s, provides a well-established institutional model for digital conservation. The central principle of the conservation work is the artist's intent, not just the piece's technical specifications. This guides conservation decisions and was formalised in 2017 through Tate’s Software-Based Art Preservation Project, which standardised documentation, disc imaging, and emulation across the collection, rather than treating each acquisition as a one-off project.
The team describes different valid technical configurations of the same work as “variants”. For instance, Rafael Lozano-Hemmer’s Subtitled Public has two documented variants running on different hardware and operating systems. Despite this, both are accepted as legitimate realisations of the same piece. Disc imaging is one part of this process, capturing everything on a work’s original computer so nothing is lost if the carrier or format becomes obsolete. Once Tate captures the content and its operating environment, reliance on the original machine decreases, and the artwork's accessibility is ensured. By recreating the original environment on a modern machine, the artwork can continue to operate using tools that emulate the original computer's behaviour.
Tate is quite candid about their shortcomings in resolving the issue. The team describes how the ever-accelerating rate of digital acquisitions is outpacing their ability to document them, with specialist knowledge held by only a handful of individuals rather than the wider team. This is useful information for ACMI: Although world-renowned, Tate’s approach is not a finished model that can be replicated; instead, it shows that even the best-resourced infrastructures struggle to archive, conserve, and document digital works at today's rapidly increasing scale of digital-based acquisition.
For ACMI’s collection of software-dependent and interactive work, Tate is a clear example of why it is necessary to capture a piece's digital environment early, rather than waiting for hardware failure. This is not simply a precaution, but a necessity. Tate’s practice also suggests that resourcing is a significant constraint in successful digital conservation. It is not enough to suggest ACMI simply replicate Tate's techniques; the team needs to be well-resourced and well-educated to ensure the project backlog does not outpace capacity.
Matters in Media Art
Whilst Tate’s approach is dependent on a large, specialised team, Matters in Media Art offers a different solution: collaboration and best-practice solutions between institutions. Beginning in 2003, the collectors behind the New Art Trust approached MoMA, SFMoMA, and Tate to discuss preservation and best practices of caring for media art. Afterwards, the collaborators published their guidance online, making it accessible to artists, collectors, and institutions of all sizes and resources.
The consortium's success relies on the practical, free guidance it provides. All institutions have access to ready-made procedures, documentation and preservation guidelines. The resources emphasise acquisition, highlighting the importance of a proactive approach to digital media conservation. In their own words, the project explains that digital collections “require active maintenance and will not survive passive storage”.
The project also highlights the constant need for updates and revisions when dealing with such an emerging medium. For instance, the third phase focused on digital video ran significantly longer than earlier phases. This was due to the field's constant change, which required continual revision and reissue of the material. As a consortium, the collaboration is committed to keeping standards current as new technologies and techniques emerge, not simply a document produced once.
For ACMI, this model highlights a potential gap. ACMI presents a history of successful collaborations; however, these collaborations are generally only approached on a project-by-project basis. The Collection Strategy broadcasts a commitment to shared expertise, research, and partnership with peers, industry, and educational sectors. Despite this, it has not yet matched that commitment with a published, sector-wide framework for collaborative digital preservation practice. Through its commitment to publishing preservation guides, ACMI demonstrates an understanding of the risks smaller institutions face. Formalising a collaborative preservation framework would allow ACMI to leverage its position as a sector leader to democratise access to preservation knowledge across all galleries, museums and collections. While a partnership may end with a project, a collaborative framework can remain.
Recommendations
Digital obsolescence is not a single problem but three, all requiring a different response. The recommendations below follow the same structure.
These recommendations are practical; however, a broader point remains. If obsolescence is not just a technical problem but instead a resourcing decision, the allocation of resources is a statement on what institutions value enough to preserve. The four actions below are operational fixes, but if undertaken, they are a statement of what ACMI prioritises.
Carrier Obsolescence: Constant Migration upon Acquisition
Carrier obsolescence presents an immediate, physical risk, however, it is also the easiest to plan for and mitigate. ACMI should standardise migration as part of the acquisition process and budget, rather than treating it as a future emergency at the point of failure. Building a planned migration schedule into acquisition budgeting would reframe data transfer of ageing carriers as an ongoing operational expense, mitigating the risk of carrier failure. The point is not to migrate data perfectly, but to migrate data continuously.
Format Obsolescence: Automated Risk Monitoring
As the quietest of the three, format obsolescence shows no visible signs of loss until a file is opened and fails. The file is intact, yet the necessary software has disappeared, become obsolete or out of date. Difficult to detect through manual review alone, it is recommended that ACMI adopt an automated monitoring tool. For instance, the National Library of Australia built the Automatic Obsolescence Notification Service (AONS) in partnership with the Australian Partnership for Sustainable Repositories. This system automatically checks file formats against global registries, creates risk reports, and notifies staff when a file format’s obsolescence risk shifts. Integrated into ACMI’s existing framework, a tool of this kind would provide proactive, early warnings of an issue that is otherwise invisible.
Practitioner Obsolescence: Formalisation at Acquisition
Practitioner obsolescence cannot be simply solved with software or mitigation alone. ACMI should develop and formalise a standardised procedure to capture installation details, hardware and software requirements, and the artist's attitude toward future migration of the piece. This intervention addresses all three forms of obsolescence: the knowledge is preserved upon acquisition, the format is documented, and the dependencies are formally recorded. Tate’s model provides a working example of this intervention in process. ACMI’s existing curatorial expertise and artist connections could support the implementation of this approach. Above all, adequate resourcing is necessary to formalise and maintain this process.
No institution can tackle this issue alone. Through leveraging ongoing collaborations with the NFSA, Powerhouse, Swinburne and RMIT, it is recommended that ACMI deepen these connections into a formal consortium, modelled on the success of Matters in Media Art. This would allow ACMI to provide smaller institutions with shared standards and knowledge that might otherwise remain concentrated amongst a small group of specialists.
Conclusion
The forms of obsolescence identified in this report are unlikely to disappear entirely. They arise from the changing technologies that ACMI is committed to collecting. The choice is not whether to intervene, but how and when. The recommendations above are modest, but share one guiding principle: obsolescence is a resourcing decision, and a decision better made proactively. ACMI possesses the collection, expertise and resources. What is missing is the formalisation of these factors into deliberate strategies to mitigate the issues of digital obsolescence.
Preserving a culture built on temporary technologies will always require ongoing work. That exemplifies what a collection is: not a finished object, but a constantly evolving practice. ACMI has spent the last two decades building a significant digital collection of screen culture. ACMI’s next decisions will shape how that collection survives and remains accessible into the future.
Further Reading
ACMI. Collection Development Strategy. 2019.
ACMI. Collection Strategy 2024–2029. 2025.
Brand, Stewart. "Escaping the Digital Dark Age." Library Journal, 1999.
Byers, Fred. Care and Handling of CDs and DVDs: A Guide for Librarians and Archivists. National Institute of Standards and Technology, 2003.
Engel, Deena, et al. "Time-based Media Conservation at Tate." Tate Papers, 2022.
Fitzpatrick, Kathleen. Planned Obsolescence: Publishing, Technology, and the Future of the Academy. NYU Press, 2011.
Haidvogl, Martina, and Agathe Oleksik. "Matters in Media Art: A Collaborative Approach to Preservation." 2016.
Klein, Andy. "Hard Drive Reliability Statistics." Backblaze, 2021.
Laurenson, Pip. "Developing Strategies for the Conservation of Installations Incorporating Time-Based Media." 2006.
Matters in Media Art. "Guidelines for Media Art." n.d.
Mitchell, William. "Software-Based Art at the V&A." Victoria & Albert Museum, 2023.
MoMA. "Matters in Media Art." n.d.
Pearson, David, and Colin Walker. "Automatic Obsolescence Notification Service (AONS)." National Library of Australia, 2007.
Rinehart, Richard, and Jon Ippolito. Re-Collection: Art, New Media, and Social Memory. MIT Press, 2014.
Rothenberg, Jeff. "Ensuring the Longevity of Digital Documents." Scientific American, 1995.
Rubio, Fernando, and Glenn Wharton. "Digital Fragility in Museum Collections." 2020.
Tate. "Software-Based Art Preservation Project." 2017.