Records management professionals: Suffering from self-inflicted wounds

At a recent gathering of records management professionals, I overheard a conversation in which a Certified Records Manager (CRM) candidate referred to the CRM certification as a "rinky-dink credential." I was not shocked. I have been a CRM since the Institute of Certified Records Managers (ICRM) was established, I served on its Examination Development Committee for five years, and I was a member of its Board of Regents for eight years. As far as negativity is concerned, if I haven't "heard it all," I've certainly heard most of it.

Some derision is expected. As Aesop pointed out approximately 26 centuries ago, those who fail to achieve their objective are likely to adopt the attitude that "the grapes are sour." It is not that group of individuals which concerns me. I am concerned, rather, about people such as the one referenced above who have decided that even if they get the grapes they are not worth having and, certainly, about those who have already gotten the grapes and think that there is something wrong with them--because they are not cherries or plums or peaches or whatever else they might have wanted them to be!

THE ICRM RATIONALE

The ICRM was established in 1975 to certify persons as proficient in the information and records management profession through the administration of a comprehensive examination. That's it! That's all it was ever created for! Despite the lofty wording of its original mission statement, the ICRM was not supposed to be a professional association as is ARMA International. It was not supposed to hold conferences or seminars. It was not supposed to educate people. It was not supposed to be a placement service.

The ICRM program was developed by a group of experienced and knowledgeable practitioners and academics who had a sincere interest in raising the status of the records management profession and who, given the very restrictive parameters already mentioned, modeled the program on other successful professional certification programs that had been in existence for years. Inasmuch as the certification was for proficiency in the field of records management (as opposed to accounting or architecture or physical therapy), the heart of the program--the comprehensive six-part CRM Examination--was based on the records management life cycle theory.

To become a viable entity, the Institute needed a nucleus of members to perform all the necessary administrative functions. There was no funding for "staff." To establish the membership nucleus, there was a very limited period of time when people could receive a CRM designation "by review" rather than "by examination." To avoid a wholesale influx of mediocrity, the criteria for certification by review were much more stringent than for certification by examination. To apply for certification by review, a person needed a minimum of ten years of professional records management experience and had to have been published as well. (For those taking the examination, the requirement was--and still is--three years of experience and no publication.)

THE COMPLAINTS STARTED EARLY

One doesn't hear the complaint much anymore (because most of the people who were certified by review have retired), but 15 or so years ago one heard a constant lament about how many of those who were "grandfathered" were below par. Interestingly enough, one also heard complaints about how the Institute was an "elitist society" whose members were more interested in exclusion than in inclusion. It was not just coincidental that those who were most vocal in these matters were those who could not qualify for certification by review. What is fascinating, however, is to ponder how an organization made up of supposedly sub-par individuals could be considered elitist.

Naturally, there were complaints about the Institute's policies for qualifying to sit for the exam. (The requirements were too demanding. The criteria were unclear. The form was poorly designed.) And, just as naturally, there were complaints about the exam itself. (It was too long. It was culturally biased. The graders--all CRMs--were incompetent.)

SO NOTHING!

One must, of course, ask the question, "Were the complaints valid?" and one must also be honest with the answer and say, "In some instances." But then there is the follow-up question that needs to be asked which is, "So what?" The follow-up answer to that question is, "So nothing!"

Yes, there were "grandfathered" CRMs who were below par. That sort of thing happens in every situation in which there is a certification by review process. Some people can "look real good on paper." By the same token, there are CRMs who have passed the exam who are below par. Some people are simply "good test takers." The problem is not with the certification process, but with people's unrealistic expectations. As Money magazine proves each year with an Income Tax Test given to financial professionals, just because people hold a similar credential does not mean that they are clones of one another!

Complaints about the qualifying process were essentially red herrings. It was hardly rational for applicants to blame the Institute because they couldn't find the position descriptions documenting their professional experience (reason enough, one would think, to question their records management skills), nor was it sensible for applicants to expect to get "professional" work credit for the time they spent running the office copier. Admittedly, the form needed some modification.

LOOKING FOR FLAWS IN ALL THE WRONG PLACES

Of course, the complaints about the examination were foreseen. As soon as people start taking tests in the early years of elementary school, they start finding fault with them. About the only complaint not heard regarding the ICRM Exam was, "The teacher doesn't like me." No, the test was not perfect. Probably no examination ever is. But it was always fair, it was constantly being improved, and it was administered honestly. For those who failed it, however, that was not enough.

The primary specious issue raised regarding the examination was the ratio of those who passed to those who failed. In instances where it was 80%/20% or thereabouts, there were few complaints. But when it was 20%/80%, a veritable witch hunt ensued. Since it was inconceivable that 80% of the candidates could be lacking in some way or other, the only possibility was that there was something wrong with the test!

Of course, never was there a 20%/80% pass/fail ratio for the entire examination. The ratios varied from part to part and from sitting to sitting as well. A part that had a high pass rate one time might have a low one the next. Statistically this indicated that there was absolutely nothing wrong with the exam and that the problem was (in more ways than one) in the minds of the unsuccessful candidates. No matter. Neither logic nor statistics are relevant when scapegoats are being sought. There had to be something wrong with the exam!

There wasn't, of course. Study after review after evaluation has been conducted with the bottom line conclusion being that there is nothing wrong with the CRM Examination that better educated, better prepared candidates couldn't remedy. To its credit, the ICRM Board of Regents has steadfastly refused to succumb to the demands of the deficient and has upheld its standards of "testing for the best."

Yet even "the best" are sometimes less than praiseworthy. It is understandable that CRM candidates would find things to complain about. They are, after all, going after a prize that often proves to be elusive. The anxiety involved in preparing for and taking an exam takes its toll, and, should the effort have a less-than-satisfactory outcome, frustration adds to the stress. When CRMs are the ones complaining, however, it is another matter entirely. The ICRM experiences in implementing both a dues increase and a Certification Maintenance Program serve as a classic reminder that professionalism has not yet overtaken the ranks of records managers.

A FEW DOLLARS--NO SENSE

In 1992 ICRM member dues were raised. It was a sizable increase (alright, it was 133%), but it was done for a good reason--the organization needed the money! Air fares were up, the economy was down, and corporate support was off necessitating increased expenditures for administrative endeavors. Even with the increase the amount was certainly in line with what other professional organizations charge for dues, so minor annoyance though it may have been, there was little reason for complaint.

Since it is common knowledge that the Institute functions on a shoestring, there were only a few people who made the suggestion that operations be scaled back to avoid the increase. But there were many who said that dues should not be raised. How the organization would run without money was, of course, not addressed by these individuals; they simply didn't want it to be their money that was used. By the end of 1992, approximately eight percent of the membership had let their certifications lapse because of the dues increase. Some sent formal letters of resignation, others simply refused to pay. For a measly $60.00 (that is all the 133% amounted to), over 50 "professionals" permanently relinquished a credential that had, in some instances, taken them years to attain. The situation is mind-boggling. There are many types of "dues" that must be paid to survive in the professional world. Those requiring the mere writing of a check are perhaps the most painless of all.

EVEN FLEXIBLE STANDARDS ARE TOO RIGID FOR SOME

Early in the Institute's history, the proposal was made to establish a certification maintenance requirement. None was established at that time because the idea was considered to be premature. But never was the concept considered to be inappropriate. Virtually every other professional accrediting organization has such a requirement. Certification maintenance (which essentially means ensuring that those who are certified do not become credentialed dinosaurs) is entirely consistent with the limited organizational mission of "certifying as proficient." Proficiency is not something that should be relative to a given moment in time but a standard that should be maintained throughout one's professional life. The necessity for certification maintenance is fairly easy to understand when explained in the context of modern technology.

A person who was certified in 1975 most certainly knew nothing about personal computers, E-mail, facsimile transmission, or optical disks since none of those things existed at that time. A person who was certified in 1975 and who made no effort to keep up-to-date might still know nothing about any of those things today. In all professions, one either moves forward or falls behind. Within the information handling environment, knowing how to load the ribbon into a self-correcting typewriter (1975 technology) is not sufficient for the 1990s. A CRM who doesn't know about optical disks is like a surgeon who doesn't know about anesthesia--not only an embarrassment to the profession, but a hazard as well.

The Certification Maintenance Program began January 1, 1989. The first "5-year cycle" for accumulation of 100 certification maintenance credits ended December 31, 1993. As of March 1993, almost 30 percent of the CRMs had obtained no credits at all. Recognizing a crisis in the making, the ICRM Board of Regents contacted all those persons who had accumulated less than half the necessary credits. After interviewing over 100 "professionals," the Board, in an extraordinary action, voted to broaden the criteria retroactively to make meeting the requirements easier.

Suffice it to say that with the "broadened" criteria in place, more CRMs met the certification maintenance requirements. Some, however, did not even try!

A RUDE AWAKENING

How is one to interpret all this? How can one rationalize the substantial loss of the Institute's members from something as innocuous as a dues increase? Why was it necessary for the Board of Regents to broaden the certification maintenance criteria to ward off what appeared to be a wholesale desertion of those who had been deemed to be "the best"? What is it that would cause Certified Records Managers to think that records management certification wasn't worth keeping? The explanation is most disconcerting. When persons are in the process of trying to achieve a goal that requires some struggle (examples that come to mind are pledging a fraternity or getting through military boot camp), the usual thing is to complain loudly and often while the struggle is going on and to be incredibly relieved and satisfied once the goal has been reached. Indeed, with achievement comes transformation. (One is no longer a "pledge" or a "boot," one has become a "brother" or a "soldier.") With the new status comes new responsibilities, of course, but these responsibilities are accepted--embraced in fact--because the status itself is considered to be worthwhile.

Unfortunately, many of those who successfully complete the records management certification process do not see themselves as transformed (from "candidate" to "CRM"). Even worse, they still consider that they are engaged in a struggle--with the ICRM! Why? Because the CRM is not a CPA, a CFP, a CBPC, a CFS, a CSP, a CDP, an NPC, a CNM, a CLU or any of the other myriad of certifications that are available throughout the professional world. A CRM certifies that one is proficient in "records management." The situation is fraught with psychological complexity. but in simple terms the problem seems to be that with the attainment of the CRM, people are forced into the realization that the are no at the top of a profession--that many of them never wanted to be in to begin with!

Much had been written about how people "fall into" records management. It is a given that children do not go to sleep at night staring up at the stars and wishing they were grown-up so that they could create retention schedules. But even so, once one has fallen into something, one should accept it--or get out. To do otherwise, to work your way through the hierarchy and reach the pinnacle of professional achievement all the while begrudging your success, is pathetic!

That a substantial percentage of the Certified Records Managers had to be coaxed into maintaining their certification (through broadened criteria) is absurd enough, but that there were those who were willing to throw away their professional credential goes beyond absurdity and is indicative of a level of self-loathing that may be unequalled in any other profession. One is reminded of Groucho Marx's famous declaration, "I wouldn't want to belong to any club that would have me as a member." Marx, of course, was being facetious.

A MATTER OF PERSPECTIVE

That people are unhappy with their lot in life is not the fault of the ICRM. Yet one must ask what it is about the records management profession. that causes so many of those within it to reject it? The usual list of excuses begs the question entirely by suggesting that records management is not really a profession at all. That is, unlike other recognized professions (medicine is most often cited in this regard), records management lacks an academic basis, a shared value system, community endorsement, etc.

I am much too realistic to try and equate records management to medicine. But just because records management has not yet evolved to the point where it measures up to some sociologist's dream of what a profession should be, doesn't mean that it is without value. How many persons, in the grand scheme of things, are truly professionals as measured by that artificially designed set of criteria?

Records management is a management function. As such, it must be gauged against other management functions, such as personnel or finance or procurement, not against medical specializations, such as cardiology or hematology or orthopedics! As a management function, records management is at the head of the class. It is much more involved with the organizational big picture than procurement, it is far less boring than finance, and it has not succumbed to its own hype as has personnel (a/k/a Human Resources Management). Professionalism, being truly more a state of mind than a measurable set of precepts, can easily be achieved when viewed from this more realistic perspective.

Don't misunderstand. It is necessary that records management evolve so that ultimately it can meet the commonly-accepted professional criteria. Only by meeting these criteria will the point be reached where the term, "records management," will bring recognition from people instead of blank looks. But there is no need to be apologetic and miserable in the mean time because the evolution is incomplete. Records managers should not consider themselves as being in some kind of wretched and ignoble state. Rather than to focus on what they are not, records managers would be better off to concentrate on what they are. What they are, compared to many other management types, is exceptional! One can, indeed, point to the CRM credential and ask how many other "management functions" even have a certification program?

THE CREDENTIAL IS A PART OF YOU

The incredible contradiction in all of this is that nowhere will one hear more talk about professionalism than at an assembly of records managers. It's almost as if they are trying to compensate for their miserably low self-esteem by uttering constant affirmations. But...these affirmations do not extend to records management certification. How can records managers expect corporate executives to acknowledge, respect, and reward the credential when they themselves have not a good word to say about it? Doesn't it stand to reason that you should not disparage that which you expect the rest of the world to extol? Imagine a leader in the medical profession saying, "Board certification is really quite worthless." The very idea is preposterous. Even if he believed it he wouldn't say it! And yet, the CRM credential has been similarly maligned by those in the records management profession. Imagine a leader in the accounting profession saying, "The CPA Examination has no relevance." Never! Because such a pronouncement would serve only to tear down that which has taken years to build up. Yet the CRM Examination has been similarly disparaged by various persons in the records management profession.

For as long as there has been records management certification, there has been the question, "What good is a CRM?" It is an intriguing question to consider. It is also a waste of time to consider it.

What is it that people think should be the good of a CRM? Should the credential guarantee a raise? Respect? Employment? A person who would answer yes to any of those possibilities is a person who doesn't understand the role of credentials in the workplace and, more importantly, doesn't understand the responsibility an individual has for shaping his own destiny.

Credentials guarantee nothing! There are credentialed individuals in virtually all professions who cannot make a decent living. A credential is a mark of achievement--nothing else. Granted, it is a significant achievement. But an achievement, in an academic or technical context, is but one aspect of overall success. Success derives from several factors, not the least of which are "luck" and "force of personality."

So why bother with a credential at all? Because in some professions (law, for example) the credential is not considered to be an "extra," but is a minimum requirement even to be considered for a position. In other professions (records management, for example), a credential is an "extra" and MAY be an augmenting factor, IF the other elements necessary for success are already there!

The importance of the MAY/IF equation cannot be overemphasized. A credential is not a substitute for anything. If an individual has intelligence, ability, street smarts, a winning smile, and happens to be in the right place at the right time, then a credential will certainly be a nice addition to that list. If a person is a mental midget living in an intellectual pigsty and doesn't know when to take a bath or keep his mouth shut, a credential is going to be useless. Assuming that one falls somewhere in the middle of those two extremes, a credential should frequently accessed than when they sit idly in neatly organized archival storage boxes. Moreover, even when the records manager has a duplicate set of active files, the departments are more likely to spend hours trying to find their copies than come to the records center. Delaying the application of records management tidiness until the records are transferred to the records manager's custody is as absurd as waiting until you sell your house to clean the junk out of your garage and closets. (Of course, I am guilty of that, too.)

ELIMINATING THE MESS AS AN ORGANIZATIONAL CHALLENGE NOT JUST A NEUROSIS OF RECORDS MANAGEMENT

Clearly, just as cleaning up the paper mess is a corporate priority central to the organization's mission, rather than merely a "records management goal," so must the achievement of it be corporate in nature, rather than just the job of records management. The records manager can be neither Oscar, claiming that the clutter is inherited from other departments, nor Felix, satisfied with the "joy of cleaning up" as an end in itself. Rather the records manager must lead the rest of the organization in cleaning up their own records while they are still active. The records manager must educate the other departments on the fundamentals of neatness. Such a training course should include the following points alluded to above:

* Maintenance of orderly records is a prerequisite for achieving the goals of each department and the organization's mission as a whole.

* Only one set of subject and working files should be maintained by anyone.

* Files should be purged and/or inactivated on a regular basis. Documents should not be left out on work surfaces.

* Piles (or boxes) of paper should not be left on the floor, in the corner, in front of doors, or on top of cabinets.

* File drawers should be kept neat, with legible labels, creased file folders, and a limited number of pages in each file.

* "Non-records" (e.g., duplicates, most transmittals, courtesy copies, and informal notes) should not be filed.

* Standard filing equipment, supplies, and organizational structures should be adopted.

In conjunction with such training, it is wise to arrange periodically (preferably each 3 months), an organization-wide "Paper Day," in which everyone spends the whole day purging files and boxing inactive records for storage. After all, who else can effectively purge a file other than those who created it and use it. If thoughtfully arranged, this can be a "fun" day, a break from the routine, perhaps with the company furnishing soft drinks and lunch. Such an activity can also help promote organizational esprit de corps and pride.

Actually Neil Simon made precisely this same point in the conclusion to The Odd Couple. Felix had left with the English sisters Oscar had been pursuing, and Oscar was alone once more with the guys at a poker party. But this time it was Oscar "Slob" who lectured the others on using coasters for their drinks. Then, as he bent down to pick up some cigarette butts on the floor, he added "And watch your cigarettes, will you? This is my house, not a pig sty." Felix had gone, but his influence continued. So should it be with the records manager.

AUTHOR: Ira A. Penn, CRM, CSP, is the Editor of the Records Management Quarterly, a professional journal published by the Association of Records Managers and Administrators, Inc. (ARMA International). He is a Senior Management Analyst with the U.S. Federal Government and has over 30 years experience in records and information management. In 1990 he was presented the Emmett Leahy Award for his contributions and outstanding accomplishments field.

Active in ARMA International at the Association level, Mr. Penn was the recipient of the coveted Award of Merit in 1985 and received the designation of Association Fellow in 1990. He was also active in the Institute of Certified Records Managers, served for eight years on its Board of Regents, and received the Institute's Award of Merit in 1992.

Mr. Penn is a graduate of Temple University in Philadelphia, PA. An accomplished writer, he won the prestigious ARMA Britt Literary Award in 1979 and is one of the principal authors of the Records Management Handbook, an international text published in London, England. A popular speaker, Mr. Penn is in demand for his thought-provoking, controversial, and down-to-earth presentations.

Copyright Association of Records Managers Administrators Inc. Apr 1994
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