In search of the purgeless office

Literature, movies, and even personal fantasies to which we would never admit are filled with quixotic searches for "the answer." The problems addressed by these answers vary, as have the answers themselves. But they all have one attribute in common: They are viewed as panaceas--as answers that will eliminate all significant difficulties. Thus, for those to whom aging and death were the ultimate calamities, the Fountain of Youth was the paramount hope. Many who believed money could indeed buy everything persistently sought through alchemy a recipe for gold. For many to whom knowledge of the future is the key to success, astrology still provides a sense of pseudoscientific assurance that no amount of logical dissuasion can banish. Finally, for those of us whose lives are bound by the walls of a modern office, the Paperless Office heralds the final frontier, a comfortable, stress-free waiting room for office workers just outside the gates of heaven.

When examined by sober reason, each of these convictions appears somewhat silly and easily becomes the subject of derision. Although often ridiculed, the Paperless Office is in part an exception. For many of the most important aspects of the Paperless Office have already come to pass--relatively rapidly. Offices are tied together internally and externally with local and wide area electronic networks, which obviate the need for routing paper. Even those not linked by one of these networks are linked by fax transmissions, which are rapidly supplanting mail correspondence. Documents are being scanned into electronic image files, converted by Optical Character Recognition readers into electronic text files, and indexed by Computer Assisted Retrieval systems. Most importantly, electronic workflow is beginning to supplant paper processing. Yet we still make fun of the prophecies of the Paperless Office, while pointing out that "95% of all business information is still in a paper format" and that there is more paper than ever before.

Why do we seem to overlook the extent to which paper processing is being replaced by electronic workflow, while complaining about the amount of paper we still find? Could it be that, when we envisioned the Paperless Office, we had something more in mind than just the efficient, electronic business processes that are already being implemented? Could it be we were unconsciously, less critically, and somewhat whimsically fantasizing about something not yet here, namely being able to retrieve a document without having to search through the piles of paper suffocating our personal work spaces? Were we not also dreaming of removing the curse of having to winnow through all of those memos, letters, studies, and random brochures to determine what to throw away, what to keep, and where to keep it? One does not need to recall too many of the pejorative depictions of paper processing by advertisements for paperless-office products to realize that we were really hoping that the paperless office would be the purgeless office--an uncluttered work place without futile searches and endless decisions of "To throw away or not to throw away."

We dread purging our paper files not so much because it represents hard work (which it does) as because it forces us to decide between two apparently mutually exclusive parts of our personality. Our minds are bifurcated between a sentimental attachment to the past and a neatnik eagerness to clean out the trash and make a fresh start. Normally this schizophrenia is repressed. However, at certain key moments--while cleaning garages, straightening closets, clearing out attics, and purging files--these two demons are unleashed to battle relentlessly until one wins or (more often) until both wear down and agree to "keep it or toss it" purely on the basis of which is easiest and quickest. Making this experience all the more distressing is the frustration that all of this paper purging is not in our job descriptions, is not what we were hired to do, and is compelling us to fall further and further behind in the schedule for our real jobs.

Recently, during a round of the popular business game of musical offices, I packed up my belongings of the last six years and moved to a new cubicle. The new space looks nicer but has less filing space. Suddenly, a reduction of two file drawers left me with no choice but to purge. As I began to rummage through the bent-up hanging files and dilapidated manila folders with labels scrawled in red marker, blue pen, and pencil, I began the tedious task of deciding what to keep. Not only many of the documents, but even some whole categories, were obsolete. Nevertheless, each brought back memories. To toss them in the wastebasket seemed like trashing a part of my life.

In the solitude of paper, interrupted only by an occasional silverfish or roach, the rational and sentimental constituents of my personality began to debate the disposition of every file:

REASON: This collection of old retention schedules is totally useless. Why, some of those organizations no longer even exist]

SENTIMENT: What] Do you realize the effort and thought required to assemble meticulously this treasure trove of information gleaned from the experiences of others? Besides, I have added value to this group just by collecting them.

REASON: Well, then, what about all these articles on electronic retrieval systems copied in the early 1980s. The technical limitations with which they deal are so far removed from what we face today that they are almost laughable.

SENTIMENT: On the other hand, I can still remember patiently standing for hours in front of that antiquated photocopier to copy them. How can I just throw away the fruits of my labor? Perhaps I might use them as part of a history of information retrieval...

REASON: Oh come now] Since when were you planning such a history?

SENTIMENT: I just thought of it. It might be a good idea.

REASON: Will you get serious] You are worse than your wife at a garage sale or your mother cleaning out her attic.

My "to purge-or-not-to-purge" arguments with myself continued for several hours until my sentimental self became bored and my rational self tired. Then I just began filling up trash cans with whatever I came to next, with little consideration of its actual value. I can remember that I was in this mood when I filed away a coffee-stained memorandum, even though I was suspicious that I had grabbed it from the wastebasket to use as a coaster for my coffee mug. Only a little later, I threw away an important, still relevant report on contracting procedures because I vaguely recalled having seen it at least once in a previous folder. However, I can remember having pondered with absentminded amusement:

I wonder if I could have thrown away that copy already, assuming that I still would have the one I am throwing away now. Never mind. I know that someone, somewhere must still have a copy. They always do--if you just know who they are--and if they have not just purged their files.

Thus, the myth of the paperless office (a myth that in many respects has become a reality) was partly a disguise for a deeper dream: the end of purging private, personal paper files. The question then becomes whether the elimination of purging will remain an unachieved mirage. While most quests for a mythical panacea do not really find what they are seeking, they often have useful by-products: e.g., Ponce de Leon did not find the Fountain of Youth, but he did discover Florida; Coronado did not find the "city of gold" but he did discover the Grand Canyon. Similarly, while the various attempts at the purgeless office have not fully succeeded in banishing the need to purge, we may expect to find that they have had some success in assuaging the distress that this task occasions. What follows is a discussion of the solutions proposed, their successes, and their shortcomings.

SOLUTION 1: RETENTION SCHEDULING

Developing retention schedules to systematize the purging and inactivation of office files is records management's crowning achievement. The principle is simple: Make a single determination of the proper disposition of each series of records by carefully appraising its operational, legal, fiscal, and historical values. Then it is not necessary to laboriously, inconsistently, and tediously make that same determination over and over again. Following this principle, we inventory the company's records and develop retention schedules that make it possible to efficiently purge the obsolete paper that clogs the flow of company processes. With these schedules, companies can easily identify the departmental file cabinets filled with correspondence, reports, case files, and processed forms of all sorts that must be sent to off-site storage or destruction. Indeed, retention schedules have greatly facilitated the purging of departmental files, and these account for perhaps 85% of a company's records. Unfortunately, the 85-15 rule (which states that 85% of any task will be easier than the other 15%) applies here: The last 15% presents at least 85% of the problem. This group is the one type of record that the company records retention schedule did not extensively address: the "personal" files that fill our offices or cubicles. This type of file--when considered at all--is usually assigned a retention period akin to "Annual Review".

THE PROBLEMS WITH ANNUAL REVIEW

Initially, "Annual Review" seems to be a simple, workable solution. After all, by far the greatest volume of records is in the departmental files. Surely, each person can take the time to review and purge the small amount of records at his work station] But the task is not as simple as it appears. For one thing, the contents of personal files are not at all homogeneous like those in departmental files. They contain reference materials, clippings, and brochures, as well as a mixture of dissimilar reports and correspondence that must be reviewed individually. Moreover, how can one be sure that what is purged in one person's annual review is consistent with what is done in another? Especially troublesome are the files of higher management, which are usually the most voluminous and the most important of all personal files. Most executives--as well as some middle managers and supervisors --can justifiably claim a shortage of time to review and purge their files. An obvious alternative is the secretary or administrative assistant--the one who probably did most of the filing. The problem with this answer is that secretaries often lack enough knowledge of the files' contents to know whether a given item has sufficient further value to warrant its being saved.

Much less able to make this kind of determination are the records management staff who are often asked to "do whatever needs to be done" with management's unpurged personal files. Usually shipped to the records management department as a hodgepodge of binders, unmarked boxes, and rubber-banded packets of paper, these records bear only the barest explanation of where they came from or what they were used for. If any recommendation for retention is attached, it is usually "Indefinite".

"Indefinite' may have some crucial distinction from "Permanent," but as of yet I have discovered only one practical difference between these two disposal designations: "Indefinite" means that someone must periodically go through these files and determine whether to continue keeping them. Since the answer is always "yes," the upshot is that we pay more to keep Indefinite files than Permanent ones, even though ostensibly their value is not so unqualifiably permanent as those designated "Permanent:.

It may, of course, be argued that many of the senior executive files that are designated "indefinite' are actually potential candidates for archival preservation, which can only be determined later by "archival appraisal." Usually a significant portion of the materials contained among these papers is indeed archival in value. However, in my experience, an even larger proportion is not. Many of the "papers" of university presidents and local officials that I have appraised were extra copies of annual reports, marketing brochures, and other organizational publications. Two boxes contained thousands of carbon copies of three form letters. Moreover, much of the filing space is frequently filled with reading or reference material. I had no way of knowing if these publications played an important role in the work of these individuals or had merely been collected and put on the shelf to please a donor or "to be read when the opportunity arose." Finally, often the senior management's subject and correspondence files will duplicate departmental files.

Clearly, any attempt by records management to decide after time has passed what to do with boxes that contain such a melange of the valuable and the valueless is problematic. Furthermore, the executives or managers sending these materials have often already left the organization, so the option of asking them or returning materials is not left open. Destroying the materials at this point can threaten the integrity of the original order of an archival collection and also be a dangerous practice legally, since it is not really purging in the "normal course of business" and may appear to be selective.

In summary, executives and managers often lack the time, their support staff often lack the expertise, and the records management staff nearly always lack the requisite familiarity with the department to review and purge personal files effectively. It is, therefore, necessary to establish systematic procedures that transform "annual review and purge" into something more than just a convenient phrase to enter on a retention schedule. Such an entry will remain an unenforced rule, unless programs are established to reinforce it. Some way must be found to inactivate and dispose of personal files in "the normal course of business" as is done with departmental files.

SOLUTION 2: PAPER DAY

There are several ways of incorporating the regular purging of personal paper files into the "normal course of business.' Each of these has its strengths and weaknesses. One such arrangement is to designate one day as an organizational or departmental "Paper Day" in which everyone sets aside time (hopefully an entire day) to review and purge his files. This is usually most effective if it is done on a weekend when there are no interruptions of normal business. Paper Days have some definite advantages. First, they can be fun. They are an excellent excuse to order pizza, play music, and wear tacky clothes. Once executives and clerks are all working side by side in the same informal, socially-level environment, company morale is likely to improve. Moreover, Paper can be effectively combined "Company Spring Cleaning, in which obsolete equipment, furniture, and other junk is also purged. With large trash cans and cleaning supplies easily available, the whole process can be quite effective.

Of course, there are also problems with Paper Day. Not everyone can come on the same day. Someone has to figure out how to pay for the extra day. There must be a "work plan' for employees without files Most importantly, to believe that a company's staff needs to think only one day about the disposition of its files is a serious, futile miscalculation]

To be effective, requirements for the eventual effective purging of our files must be built into our plans and our daily operations. A paper day for which you have not been preparing all year will be neither successful nor fun--just frustrating.

SOLUTION 3: FILING SYSTEMS THAT FACILITATE PURGING

One type of preparation for successful paper days is to establishing systems that expedite purging. Chronological correspondence files are an excellent example of this. First, they are simple to maintain. Any secretary or administrative assistant can file and purge this of records series with no knowledge of the contents. Inactivating just a matter of removing the oldest part. The problem with chronological files is that they are less than optimal when looking something up by subject, department, or person involved. A second disadvantage is that the most voluminous paper records are reports, proposals, and project-related materials that do not find their way into chronological files. Thus, they are an excellent choice from the standpoint of purging, but other types of files remain necessary.

While primarily used for

departmental files, two- or three-period filing-system techniques can also be adapted for large personal filing systems. The basic idea of such systems is to keep at least two sets of files organized in the same way (usually by topic or correspondent), one containing documents received or produced within the current time period, and the other(s ) holding documents received or produced within a past time period. At the end of the current period, these sets are shifted: (1) the past files are moved off-site, (2) the current files become the past files, and (3) a new set of current files is begun. One problem with this approach is that we must look for documents in two places unless the search is totally date specific. Another problem is that often file headings in one time period do not match those in another, for headings evolve with time so that the same set of headings may not be relevant for both time periods. The most vexing problems with the two-period system have to do with processes that span the current and past periods. Consider, for instance, the confusion that results when the paperwork surrounding an invoice is received in the past period and contested during the current file period. Such problems can be addressed with rules, e.g., whenever a document is pulled from the prior file, it will be refiled in the current file. Sometimes such systems work better when applied informally. My boss keeps three trays: one for this week, one for last week, and one for the week before last. Next week, if nothing has happened with those materials in the "week before-last" tray, they go into the trash can. He swears by this system, and I guess it works--but I still keep a copy of whatever I give him.

Project filing is another approach that can ease the burden of purging. Today much that we do is organized into projects, e.g., imaging, paperwork reduction, records retention scheduling, etc. A great deal is written about project management, and the records management implications of this discipline need to be much more fully explored. Thus, we must address how to keep the most current version of all project-related documentation before all team members and how to make sure that all project design documents are properly reviewed and the resulting concerns addressed.

We must also address what to do with the vast quantities of project documentation that are generated--and usually maintained by each team member. Why does each team member need to keep a full, historical set of minutes, drafts, and memoranda? This would seem to be a waste of resources. But no matter how many versions are kept, we must still face the questions of which project material needs to be kept and for how long. There are no universally valid answers, but two principles seem to apply. First, a central set of documentation (perhaps on microfilm or electronic media) needs to be kept to record the project's history and results. How many preliminary drafts and notes and memoranda need to be included in this set depends upon the situation. The second principle is that individual project members do not need to maintain project records once their continuous involvement with the project is completed. Such principles greatly simplify purging.

SOLUTION 4: GOOD HOUSEKEEPING

This solution fits in very well with records management's concept of the record's life cycle and the need to pay attention to how records are handled before they are purged or inactivated and sent to the records center. The first step in this solution has already been effectively addressed by the General Service Administration handbook, Files Operations, which points out that there are many non-records which do not need to be filed--e.g., courtesy copies, documents known to be filed elsewhere, publications that are not used on a daily basis and are available from a library, etc. Files Operation was actually addressing departmental files, but the same principles apply to personal files.

THE PRODUCT BROCHURE PROBLEM

For many of us, the greatest downfall in terms of excessive filing has to do with brochures and advertisements for supplies, equipment, and services. This is especially true for records managers. The great majority of the pieces of mail that we receive belong to this category. Many of them contain valuable information--e.g., the specifications for different pieces of equipment, lists of qualities to seek when procuring a reader-printer, and records retention recommendations. They also contain names, addresses, and model numbers in case we may need some of their products in the future. Since most of us are "natural born filers," we immediately begin developing systems for organizing these materials.

As an archivist at Pepperdine University, I designed a "type of product" classification (with such topics as Preservation, Archive Boxes, and Encapsulation). When I came to the Los Angeles County Metropolitan Transportation Authority, I inherited a much more extensive system from my predecessor. I discovered that records managers are much more supplies and equipment-oriented than archivists. We spend considerable time at our national ARA International conferences--as well as at local vendor programs--in collecting brochures and other literature from vendors. We also receive free periodicals, which provide preaddressed post cards for us to request an endless supply of other literature. Then I discovered that by asking for all of these freebies I got on every company's mailing list. I carefully merged my old system with that of my predecessor and invested even more time interfiling all of the literature I picked up at conferences.

Unfortunately, all of this classifying, sorting, and filing was not very worthwhile. Perhaps six or seven times over the past eight years I have retrieved something from this filing system, but most of the time I just call someone from my Rolodex or use one of the "Resources Guides" published by our local ARMA chapter. The fact is, by the time you need something described in a brochure, the brochure is obsolete. A simpler solution seems to be to skim the advertisements, keep the ones that apply to something you are in the process of purchasing or budgeting for, and trash the rest. Setting up vendor files of brochures seems rather wasteful. Besides, the brochure I treasured most, a records retention guide from a manufacturer of paper shredders, is in the last analysis not a source that I can point to with pride as a basic authority for our records retention policy.

In this same vein, it is important to realize that not only will one's files be easier to use, but they will also be much easier to purge, if we remember a few other good housekeeping rules, such as:

* Use neatly labeled file folders and hanging folders;

* Limit the amount of pages in each file folder;

* Limit the number of files packed into a drawer.

There is nothing that hinders either retrieval or purging more than the psychological distress that ensues upon encountering a file drawer that appears to have been arranged by a distracted teenager late for a meal.

THE ROLE OF ORGANIZATION IN PURGING

Most important of all the records housekeeping rules in reducing purging trauma is establishment of a logical filing system. It is sometimes assumed that the main justification for careful records organization is to improve information retrieval. This thought, along with the assumption that our personal records are small enough that we will remember where everything is without an "involved system," often leads us to fail to systematize our personal files adequately. As a result, not only do we sometimes have problems in retrieving information from our files, but we always face the looming nightmare of purging unorganized records--something for which no one has the time (or the patience). Trying to purge a filing cabinet that is not logically arranged will result in illogical decisions and nearly always in duplication. Consider, for example, when a public records policy can be filed under "POLICIES" and "RECORDS" and "EXTERNAL AFFAIRS." The resulting uncertainty will not only delay retrieval, but also hamper identification of the "record copy" during the periodic purging process.

There have been many suggestions for logical filing structures that range from simple alphabetical or numeric filing rules to the multiple-volume hierarchical subject headings of the Library of Congress. But the choice of a classification system is less important than that it be applied in a consistent, logical manner. Of course, the real goal of any such system is not to appear clever and symmetrical, but rather to avoid multiple overlapping filing locations, to have only one place in which a document can logically be filed. With such a system, it will be both easy to find a needed document and easy to determine whether to purge it.

SOLUTION 5: RETAINING EVERYTHING ON MICRO MEDIA

One of the rarely mentioned advantages of microfilm and electronic imaging, but one deep in our subconscious minds, is the possibility of avoiding the need to purge by simply keeping everything on media that occupies virtually no space. My agency is attempting this solution by copying both incoming and internally generated "significant" documents and by stamping the original "MICROFILMED." We have attempted this for several years using a centralized micrographic system, and we will soon convert this program into an electronic imaging system.

In part, this extensive retention program is justified by assuring the permanent security and accessibility of agency records as required by law. However, it also enables staff to purge documents stamped "MICROFILMED" without any hesitation. Hopefully, because staff will in the future be able to access the electronic images directly (which they were unable to do with microfilm images), they will be encouraged not even to file the paper copy in the first place. The example set by at least three of our top executives in deciding to replace the maintenance of personal chronological files with reliance on this system is a positive sign that the program will have at least some success.

Like all of the other solutions we have discussed, this one also has disadvantages. Most obvious is its cost: Determining what is "significant," as well as capturing and indexing it, is costly. (Of course, with electronic media and workflow, there is the possibility of recovering much of that cost in reduced file maintenance expenses and improved document distribution.) There is also a danger of keeping too much. Once captured and indexed, preliminary notes, memoranda, and privileged documents are more difficult to keep from the eyes of the media, the public, or opposing attorneys. Moreover, participation in this program is never complete: Most departments are much more conscientious about copying documents for themselves than in sending them to be captured on microfilm. Finally, even when the program is working perfectly, someone must still go in and purge the "copied" originals that are "no longer useful." Therefore, the need to purge private files continues. Finding someone to determine what is no longer useful returns us to some extent to the original problem.

SOLUTION 6: ESCAPING THE PAPER PURGE WITH PC FILES

The promise of the personal computer (PC) with regard to records disposition is similar to that of microfilming or scanning all documents centrally. But the prospects are even more exciting because it addresses the problem of records disposition at the point of creation. Especially in a networked environment, the PC becomes the source of paperless information--information that is so compactly and neatly stored that the whole issue of purging seems obsolete.

It does not take our minds long to fashion dreams of a purgeless PC future. It will be a future in which endless memoranda will no longer fill our filing cabinets--only E-mail messages in electronic storage will be permitted. Stacks of paper now cluttering our offices and impeding searches for a misplaced file folder will be but dimly remembered features of our business past. All of the filing cabinets that today crowd our offices will be replaced by compact hard drives and little plastic boxes of floppies resting in solitary splendor on our sleek, streamlined, spacious desks. Indeed, a box of thirty 3 1/2" diskettes will hold the same number of pages as two five-drawer filing cabinets. But the diskette cabinet takes up only 0.3% of the space required by the filing cabinets. It will take a long time before space constraints will lead our grandchildren to even consider purging. In a word, PCs entice us into envisaging offices that are sanitized of the paper mess without our having to do any of the cleaning.

Unfortunately, as with so many such dreams, the purgeless PC future turns out to be only a pleasant fantasy. First, it loses sight of the fact that in most cases the majority of the records we file are not the products of our own PCs, but the memoranda, reports, studies, and forms we receive from others. Thus, even if PC files were genuinely "purge-free," there would still be paper to deal with. Furthermore, PC files are not "purge-free." To be sure, there will be those who will argue that the reduction in storage requirements for microimages makes the whole effort of purging as superfluous as defrosting a frostfree refrigerator. Perhaps it might, if document storage space were the only--or even the primary--consideration. But it is not, just as it is not the main consideration in paper management.

The real justification for purging PC files is the improved productivity resulting from removing what is irrelevant. For nothing slows down performance like obsolete or inactive computer records through which one must arduously search in order to find the active record he needs. We need only to think of intently reading through abbreviated PC file titles, sub-directory mazes, and stacks of floppies containing a conglomeration of files copied to them because they happened to be convenient. Yes, an unpurged PC can easily be a bigger obstacle to productivity than a file cabinet packed with a diverse agglomeration of disorganized paper files. Before I finally forced myself to come to the office early a few days and purge my PC, I would spend at least thirty to forty-five minutes of each week searching through hard disk directories and a multitude of floppies for that one document that had to be there--if only I could remember where, and when and what I had called it. Yes, even if storage space were not a question, we would still have to purge our PC files.

CHALLENGES OF PURGING PC FILES

When we actually get down to the task of purging, PC files present challenges never experienced before. In fact, the ability of the PC to hide the mess from our eyes actually aggravates the problem: It is far more difficult to tidy up what you cannot see directly with your unaided eyes or touch with your hands. Moreover, just the fact that the mess is kept out of sight makes it very easy to forget that it is there and to procrastinate doing anything about it.

Another problem is our inability to thumb through--while visually scanning the contents of a file in order to determine if it is worth saving. For example, if a single directory on my hard drive contains several hundred files (not at all an unusual circumstance), I cannot just rapidly page through them and pull out what is obsolete. Instead, I am faced with a very lengthy listing of cryptic file titles and extensions, with the dates when they were last changed. These dates are not necessarily the best determinant of whether to purge the document, since only the tiniest change is sufficient to trigger a new date. To look at the document itself consumes time, since we must often both open and close the document just to view it and sometimes go through a series of questions such as "Do you wish to save this document?' and "Do you wish to exit the program?" Consequently, we are frequently tempted to try to figure out what the file contains from the title without opening it.

For example, with an intense stare, I recently puzzled whether "KMCMDT.RPT" was an acronym for the major words in a lengthy title or if I had just shortened a word by eliminating the vowels and retaining the consonants (one of my favorite tricks). On the other hand, I mused, this file might date from the period when I experimented with constructing titles out of the initials of the recipient's first and last name followed by an abbreviation of the topic. But who did I know with the initials "KM," and why would I write him or her about "CMDT"? Perhaps "CMDT" was short for "Commandment," but the only "KM" I could think of was Karl Marx. The "CM" of "CMDT" would fit in with Marx's Communist Manifesto. But why would I be writing to Karl Marx, and what did "DT" mean? At this point, a sliver of common sense interrupted my futile reverie, and I opened the file to find it was a memo to Kyrah Miller about Construction Management Design Team.

Why had I wasted so much time in this foolish PC jigsaw puzzle? In fact, it was only the most absurd example of what happens when you assume you can easily identify the titles in just a couple of seconds--and it ends up being several minutes. Usually, upon admitting failure and recognizing the futility of my guessing, I open the next few files without question--until I once more spot a title I recognize. Then I am again seduced into playing "Name That File." Of course, there are other systems and programs that permit more than DOS's eight-character names. But with these, there is a trade-off of having to enter longer titles that still may become incomprehensible after a period of time.

Another of the characteristics of electronic files, especially the word processing variety, is the ease with which we are able to recycle pieces of files through multiple documents. My favorite example is a paragraph that I originally wrote maybe five years ago for the Records Management Quarterly. In it I described a modification of the Registry system that I had developed at Pepperdine University to track the correction of registration transactions through multiple offices. This same basic paragraph had earlier appeared as part of a procedure a colleague had written, as well as a memorandum to Pepperdine administrative offices. Then it reappeared in training overheads. It may some day be resurrected as an example of being seduced by an idea that sounds reasonable but is really dumb. As it reappeared in different documents, it was also changed in format from WordStar to Samna to WordPerfect and--I prophecy--eventually to Word. It has resided on hard disks at Pepperdine, at the Los Angeles County Metropolitan Transportation Authority, and at my home--as well as on 3 1/2" and 5 1/4" floppy diskettes located more places than I can remember.

Maybe this paragraph has been moved around more often than most, but think of how often we borrow from ourselves--and our coworkers. Think how often the same piece of prose or chart or spreadsheet reappears through various files in our collection of disks. Which is the version that should be kept? Do we even know how many times it has been replicated in one form or another? It is so very easy to clone electronic files, to modify them, to borrow from them. How do we ever know which version to purge and which to keep?

Fortunately, if we treat electronic files with reason and respect, they can be easier to manage and to purge than paper. We have seen before the importance of organization and appropriate housekeeping in relieving the burden of purging paper files. This is even more true with PC files. With PC files you don't need to worry about typing neat labels and keeping file folders from slipping to the bottom of the drawer. But you do need to organize them so that they can be purged without going through each one to determine whether to keep it a while longer.

There are doubtless many different ways of organizing PC files, and none is necessarily bad so long as it is logical, consistent, and--especially--simple. This is an area where you can develop your own personal style. Here is a scheme that I developed a month or so ago--with much borrowing of ideas from others. My basic approach is to organize my hard drive into directories of programs and data files associated with those programs. Then I set up subdirectories for topics within my data file directories. For example, I have a directory for word processing data files and subdirectories within it for budget, mail, records retention, etc. Periodically I copy all of the files within a given subdirectory to a floppy disk and purge them from the hard drive. I print out the directory of the files, store it with the floppy, and write the inclusive dates on the cover. I plan to use the same floppy diskette to accept the purged files of a given subdirectory until it is full, and then keep it for another two years before destroying it. To limit the number of versions, whenever I must retrieve an inactive file from one of these diskettes, I will move (not copy) it back to my hard drive.

With regard to file naming conventions, I still abbreviate the title by combining the initials of the document recipient with an abbreviation of the topic, excluding vowels. I use the three-character extension to denote the document type (e.g., "LTR" for letter). If the document is a new version, I suffix an appropriate Arabic numeral to the original title. Admittedly, this process does involve some housekeeping activities, but I have found that the time saved in not having to guess the contents of a file or search through hard-disk directories and mountains of floppies makes it worthwhile.

CONCLUSION

Purging personal business records resembles death and taxes: It is something we will always search for a way to avoid but know inside that we will eventually have to face. Nor will we find a single "best way" to accomplish this chore. Instead, it makes sense to take advantage of all the techniques available. Our organization's records retention schedule legitimizes the periodic purging of personal files. Paper Day provides a psychological organizational climate receptive to purging. Cultivating--and instructing others in--"purge abatement" filing techniques (i.e., neatness in filing, logical filing systems, and moderation in deciding what to file) will render the purging process much less painful. Finally, if we remember to design electronic information systems--whether centralized or PC-based-with records disposition requirements in mind, there are some real opportunities to "automate" the purging process. However, even after we have adopted all of these techniques, we must not expect our offices and cubicles to become purge-free. Perhaps, we do not even want to attain that condition. Does not purging really do more than just clean our offices and prepare them to become more efficient? Is it not also mentally hygienic to set aside time to review and--where possible --reach closure on the informational inputs we have received, the work we have produced, and the projects with which we have been involved?

Copyright Association of Records Managers and Administrators Inc. Oct 1995
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