Staff Paper

The National Library of Australia's "Clayton's Disaster": A Dry Run in Slowmo, or the Real Thing?

Paper by Colin Webb, Preservation Services on the National Library's "non-urgent near-disaster" in 1995.


Living without air conditioning is the normal state for many collections, but when building design takes air conditioning for granted and the system fails, a disaster management approach may be required to minimise the impact on the collections. The National Library has been struggling with just such a non-urgent "disaster": the discovery of asbestos fibres in the air conditioning ductwork caused the system to be shut down for most of 1995, a situation complicated by rapidly evolving OH&S, industrial and resource issues, all with preservation implications.

The paper looks at some areas of concern, how they were managed and some of the lessons learned including the value of assessing what needs to be done and what is achievable, and the conflicting demands on senior staff with a range of responsibilities - lessons that can be usefully re-applied to disaster planning.

Two tools were of great importance. Although incomplete, the principles written into the Library's revised disaster plan did give staff the confidence to manage the disaster realistically, rather than as a series of stock responses that might be found in a more generic counter-emergency manual. A revised list of nationally significant materials also provided the necessary framework for making decisions when tough choices had to be made about moving and protecting highly vulnerable material.

CONTENTS


Introduction

A "Clayton's disaster" - to abuse an advertising line - is the disaster you have when you're not having a disaster. Preservation staff at the National Library of Australia (NLA) have been wondering about the nature of a non-urgent near-disaster imposed on the Library in 1995, but have decided to stop wondering and simply learn from it what they can.

The Situation

The National Library of Australia has been dealing with a difficult situation through most of 1995. In late February small amounts of asbestos fibre were found in air conditioning ducts through much of the Library building. The building was constructed in the mid to late 1960s at a time when asbestos was widely used for insulation and as a fire retardant - it would have been more surprising to find that it had not been used than it was to find it. For all that, its discovery was a surprise. The Library had been through a number of asbestos removal exercises in the 1980s and 90s, and apart from a few known sites of stable, unexposed fibres, it was assumed that the Library was asbestos free.

Asbestos is a nasty substance and a dirty word, and understandably and properly the air conditioning system in the Library was immediately shut down, with a commitment that it would not be turned on again until all detectable asbestos had been removed. In a building as large and complex as the NLA, this was going to be a lengthy and expensive process, one that was to be delayed and made more costly by a string of complications that emerged as the weeks went by.

Even without the complications the implications for the collections were serious.

Threats to the Collections

The Library building is seven stories high - five of them above ground - with two long faces towards the north and south. Many of its storage spaces are large, and virtually all of its collection storage areas are staffed; some areas are quite heavily staffed.

Normally the Library operates 24 hour air conditioning in all collection areas, with working hours in office areas. Although the system is not especially reliable and is something preservation staff have been known to grumble about, it does manage to deliver clean air at temperatures and RH levels that keep staff and collections reasonably happy.

In fact, one of the first lessons from our "Clayton's disaster" has been how thin a line of compromise there really is between human comfort and collection needs. When compromises were no longer available in the Library the needs of staff and the collections went in different directions. We re-learnt that humans can happily stand RH levels of 80% or more, so long as they are reasonably cool, whereas for the collections we much prefer to accept higher temperature levels in the short term, so long as we can keep RH fairly low and stable.

This kind of conflict characterised the situation, and because the problems were protracted staff were understandably unwilling to put up with conditions that they might have accepted for a few days or weeks in dealing with a more acute emergency.

Initially - in the first few hours - it wasn't clear what the impact on the collections would be. Big buildings containing a lot of paper have much thermal inertia and we hoped that all would be well. But it was late summer, often the hottest time of the year in Canberra, and with temperatures inside the building reaching the mid to high twenties within a couple of days, staff soon started opening windows even in collection areas where they worked. Unfortunately it also rained for most of the first week or so without air conditioning: not heavy rain, but enough to push RH levels in most areas of the building up to the seventies and eighties. With the windows open the outside conditions were simply coming inside, with remarkable speed.

We had this problem while ever temperatures remained high enough for staff to need the windows open. If it was wet outside we experienced high RH levels, but when the rain stopped, it was dry - suddenly dry: a drop from 70 per cent to 20 per cent RH in a day in some of the more exposed areas.

The situation was exacerbated by the need to get fresh air to staff in the central core of the building. To do this, the air conditioning was turned on to purge mode, to create enough pressure to suck the air coming in through the windows further into the building. This was an effective arrangement for ventilation , but it simply pushed the unstable conditions to collections throughout the building.

Of course, as well as being hot in summer, Canberra is cold in winter. For at least a couple of months daily maximum temperatures rarely creep above 10 degrees Celsius. For staff comfort this meant the Library would need some kind of heating. One early proposal was imaginative but frightening. Stand alone units would be installed outside the building to take in fresh air and heat it to a comfortable temperature before blowing it into the building through the open windows. Humidity control would not be included because of the cost. This held out the prospect of air being taken in at temperatures between -2and +10, with very low RH, and being heated to 20 degrees with virtually zero RH. Fortunately this proposal was not pursued. Instead, we have had something like a hundred oil-filled column heaters in the building, which has had some effect on RH but has been the best solution anyone could come up with. For most of the winter, RH levels have been in the low thirties in most of the building, and fairly stable. When the windows were shut, we started to enjoy some of that thermal inertia we had hoped for at the start.

Given the instability we experienced during the first month we faced the very real likelihood of our collections being suddenly exposed to frequent fluctuations in RH of 50 per cent and more. We are still not sure whether that amounted to a disaster - one that evolved more slowly than a common, garden-variety emergency, or a disaster planning exercise carried out over a period of many months. Either way, we have found that we needed to treat it like a disaster, and it has had the major call on our preservation resources for most of the year.

These are conditions that many institutions live with all the time. They recognise them as less than ideal, but wouldn't call it a disaster. The problem in our case was that we didn't expect them. The storage strategies of the NLA have been based on a functioning air conditioning system that at least takes most of the rises and falls off the outside conditions and provides fairly stable and consistent environments throughout the building. Without it, we found that some of our most vulnerable and important collections were in the most exposed and unstable areas. For example, our Pictorial collection is housed on the second floor on the sunny northern side of the building. Without air conditioning, we have had RH levels in the low twenties in this area for most of the winter. Similarly, our exhibition gallery is quite near the entrance foyer. Normally this is not a problem, but when the front doors were kept open to let fresh air in, and with no positive pressure from within the building, the conditions in the gallery were alarmingly erratic.

Complications

This challenging situation became increasingly complex. The complications we encountered were primarily things that took priority away from our efforts to deal with the collections.

After asbestos was found in the ducting, tests on dust samples from the stacks and work areas in most of the building also came back with positive results. It appeared that there were small traces of white asbestos in the dust in most collection areas. This had two major consequences relevant here. Firstly, it gave an immediacy to OH&S concerns and to a dispute between management, staff and unions about the level of risk to staff health and how it should be managed. Many stack staff simply said they were unwilling to handle the collections under such circumstances, and services to the reading rooms were disrupted or unavailable for some weeks. For once it was to our disadvantage to have the Stacks service and Preservation Services in the same management structure, as both areas demanded urgent attention at the same time.

To deal with the OH&S and industrial relations issues, the Library undertook to clean the asbestos-contaminated dust off all surfaces in the building. This was to be a massive task costed at some millions of dollars and employing teams of special staff and equipment to be brought to Canberra from all over the country by the asbestos removal contractor. The cleaning process involved "wet wiping" all surfaces; in the case of collection materials, wiping with a silicon-impregnated cloth. It is worth contemplating the implications of this for a moment: every exposed surface of every item in the collections of the National Library of Australia to be wiped by teams of contractors working to clear the building of asbestos as quickly as possible. While there was an unprecedented potential to have all the collections and collection areas cleaned thoroughly there was also an unprecedented potential for damage. How to manage this exercised our minds for some time.

Paradoxically, the time frame imposed by the other imperatives at work in the situation required plans, procedures and training programs for the cleaning to be developed and negotiated within a few days. We then had many weeks to worry about it while contractual issues were being sorted out.

What We Did

The basic approach we adopted was - as it always must be - to identify and manage the most important risks. We realised early that priorities would be important. Although these are obvious things to say, they still seem worth saying. When the pressure is intense, it is so easy to make assumptions and to try to do everything at once. This exercise was very much one of resisting that kind of self-imposed pressure.

Assessing the risks

Assessing risks took two forms: greatly increasing our monitoring of the conditions, so that we knew what was happening, and looking closely at the collections, so that we understood their needs.

Communication and involvement.

From the start we decided it would be important to involve collection managers in what was happening. At times this involved communicating decisions, at other times drawing on their knowledge and commitment. This was important for the present - there were enough complications without alienating collection managers as well - but it also seemed important for the future, for the credibility of the preservation program and to reinforce the message that preservation must be a shared responsibility.

Effective communication with senior management of the Library also seemed a good idea. Given the range of competing issues, it required fine judgment to get the amount, frequency and type of communication right. Undoubtedly there were times when we didn't get it right, but overall it was probably one of the more successful aspects of the exercise.

Contingency plans

Because the conditions presented us with immediate risks we felt the need to make short term contingency plans while we sorted out longer term strategies. In doing this we made some assumptions.

Virtually all items in the Library's collections are affected by changes in RH. In such an environment the main job in assessing and managing risks was to look at how exposed the collections were, how badly affected they would be, how important they were, and the possibilities for taking realistic action.

In discussions with collection managers, senior management and the Library's disaster action preparedness team, we established the following principles to guide our planning:

  • overseas material would be given a lower priority for attention than Australian material;
  • where large paper-based collections were densely packed and/or closely packaged (such as in the book stacks and in the Manuscripts collections) we assumed that the conditions indicated by our monitoring equipment would be buffered, and that damage to collection material would be limited to a small reduction in the usable life of items. This was not considered to be a significant risk in most cases, so those collections were to be left in place and monitored. We assumed we would not need to respond actively until RH levels went outside the range of 20 - 70 per cent for a reasonable period of time;
  • for identified high priority nationally significant materials in those collections, that level of risk was not acceptable and special attention would be needed;
  • electronic media were likely to be especially vulnerable, but only a very few items were identified as likely to justify special attention;
  • materials from the Pictorial collections, such as oil and watercolour paintings, drawings, photographs, and items of such exotic media as ivory, pith and scrimshaw, were likely to be located in more exposed sites around the building; were likely to be individually exposed; and were typically made up of heterogeneous layers that would be badly affected by RH changes. This implied a high level of risk for most pictorial material, although in the short term special attention could only be realistically offered to identified nationally significant items;
  • for collections and items identified as requiring special attention much tighter environmental parameters would apply. Conditions were to be monitored closely, material would be given more adequate packaging, and if necessary material would be moved to more stable or more easily controlled spaces.

Progressive responses

Our contingency planning was based on a series of progressive responses. We would begin by trying to manage the immediate environment by closing or opening windows, using fans and humidifiers and dehumidifiers. If that did not work, we would try to increase the buffering effect of packaging, or, as a last resort, move the material to another site. Early on in the exercise we had access to some space in the building where the air conditioning was still considered safe and had not been turned off. (The Library had been extended in the 1980s and a new Preservation Services area fitted out. Those areas were not believed to be affected by asbestos.) As conditions became more unsuitable in the Pictorial area we moved the nationally significant items into the Preservation Services studios.

It was typical of the complications we experienced that even this option became clouded. First, dust samples from the new areas were identified as containing asbestos, so those areas were also closed down and became as unstable as the rest of the building. This left us with the Preservation Services suite as the only space to which we could move threatened items, and it soon became crowded with treasures.

Second, as the air in the rest of the building became drier the leakage of conditioned air from the conservation labs increased to the extent that its small air conditioning plant could not cope and it also failed. It was quickly fixed, but for a day or two it looked as if we had merely moved the national treasures from one unsuitable space to another.

In developing more detailed contingency plans for specific collections we went back to the principles we had established - what was most important, most exposed, most vulnerable?

Strategy Options

At the same time, we started looking at options for more satisfactory long term strategies, working from brainstorming ideas (no matter how apparently silly), to identifying the essential principles behind them, and then working forward from the principles to realistic and appropriate possibilities. As our contingency plans were refined and as we assessed the risks more realistically, the field of options narrowed.

The strategies we seriously considered included:

  • managing the environmental conditions day by day. In some ways this looked like the "soft option", as it didn't appear to involve any serious action until the conditions were a problem (a kind of "if it ain't likely to break, don't fix it" approach). Because this was necessarily the approach we took in the first days we quickly learned that it put an unsustainable demand on our staff resources for almost no benefit. When we did try to manage the environmental conditions we had almost no effect. Staff working in the collection areas were generally cooperative, but our attempts at opening and closing windows to meet the collection's needs rather than staff needs met with frustrated and at times frustrating resistance. We tried some fairly optimistic things, like trays of water and ultrasonic humidifiers to raise the RH levels or dehumidifiers to dry the air, but the spaces we were trying to manage were just too big for such small scale techniques to work;
  • monitoring the condition of the collection items and responding when a problem was found. This was similar to the first option, but it focused on the collection items themselves and any evidence of how they were responding to the environmental conditions. Because our normal environmental criteria were fairly conservative this looked like an even softer option - "if you ain't got evidence that its broke, don't fix it." But this approach demanded even more resources to check the condition of individual items, and by the time a problem was found we would be dealing with damage that we might or might not be able to fix;
  • creating suitable environments. Possibilities included providing proper air conditioning in selected areas (probably by bringing in special units and installing special ducting); turning on the existing air conditioning but keeping staff out of the area, or providing staff with special breathing apparatus. The highest risk version of this option was simply to ignore the OH&S and industrial difficulties, turn the system on again, and wear a fight with staff. This version was never seriously considered because of the undertakings that had been given; the less confrontationist versions turned out to be too expensive;
  • moving material to a more suitable location. Because of the decisions and disruption involved, this looked like a fairly drastic option. Possibilities ranged from the kind of internal moves that have already been mentioned, to hiring space off-site or asking other cultural institutions to provide space. The more dramatic versions of this option were drastic, as they involved compromising the Library's control over material that it counted as the most important to its collections;
  • major relocation of staff and functions. This was also a drastic option. Possibilities included finding another venue for the exhibitions program, through to closing the Library and relocating the staff until the problems could be sorted out. Some people have argued that this would have been best for the collections and so we should have pushed for it, but it was never a realistic possibility. To close the National Library and find other work for its 500 plus staff for six months to twelve months was unthinkable, and the job before us was to manage the problems and the collections to the best of our ability without having to resort to that kind of drastic measure unless it was absolutely necessary. Undoubtedly senior management of the Library would have been willing to take such steps had they been convinced that they were needed; like many other staff in the Library our role was to exercise our professional judgment in the most responsible way in deciding whether to recommend such a course of action.

Two tools were very helpful to us in all of this. We were in the middle of a lengthy review of the Library's disaster plan when the asbestos problem appeared. Associated with that, we were also taking priority-setting seriously and working with collection managers on the Library's list of nationally significant materials.

The revised disaster plan takes a slightly different approach from most plans that are publicly available. We believed we needed a plan that recognised the unpredictability of disasters and allowed us room to do what we would be called on to do, namely to use our professional expertise; but we also wanted a plan that was specific to the NLA - something that would give us the details we really needed while providing a simple framework for making decisions on the ground. We felt that many plans suffer by trying to be all things to all people and being too specific about the wrong things.

Although our plan had not envisaged anything like the situation we were being required to manage, our experience in this exercise confirmed the appropriateness of our approach. We found that we needed to develop short term contingency plans and longer term responses; we needed to have good communication and on-the-spot negotiated involvement of other key staff; and we needed to use our professional judgment to respond to what was happening day by day and even hour by hour. Because in developing our plan we had established these principles to guide us in any counter-emergency response, the plan gave us the confidence to deal with needs as they arose while maintaining a proactive leadership role with the collections.

Part of our planning approach was to be as specific as we could about priorities. In developing and refining our list of nationally significant materials we had a powerful tool for making decisions, and we had one that had been negotiated with collection managers already. Our list tells us what is most important in each collection area, where we will find it, and what kind of material it is.

A simple framework for making decisions, specific information about the library, specific and detailed guidance on which material is most important and most at risk, and the exercise of professional judgment as a basis for leadership in the situation: these are tools that helped us, and ones we will learn to use with increasing effectiveness.

What Happened

One of the ironies of this experience - one that we are grateful for, whatever else one might say about it - is that further testing demonstrated to almost everyone's satisfaction that there was no asbestos in the dust samples. There would still be no air conditioning until the proven asbestos fibres could be removed from the ducts, but at least we were saved from a massive and dangerous program to clean the collections. (On the other hand, it meant the collections missed out on a once in a lifetime opportunity to be cleaned.) The main effect of the "asbestos in the dust" period was to cause delay, distraction and distress.

Fortunately, environmental conditions in the building settled down when winter came. It was cold, but the RH levels remained reasonably stable, in the thirties generally. We decided that no further material needed to be moved, but we maintained our monitoring effort and kept our contingency plans in the top drawer in case they were needed.

Cleaning the duct work has proceeded with minimal disruption, thanks to the ingenuity of the contractor and the people supervising the job. As the ducts servicing different zones are cleaned and tested, the air conditioning is turned on again and conditions returned to normal (or what passes as normal with a 30 year old air conditioning system). The cleaning is not expected to be finished until Christmas, which may cause us some further headaches as we move into warmer weather in spring and early summer.

The exhibition program was a major preoccupation for a time. After exploring all the possibilities, including reframing works to improve their environmental buffering, the solution turned out to be simple: cleaning the duct work and getting the air conditioning running in the gallery was given the highest priority, and we were operational a few days before a major joint exhibition, featuring many large fragile works, went up.

All in all, we were well looked after. Our direst expectations were not realised, even though many times it seemed as if Murphy was well and truly running the show and everything that could go wrong would.

What We Learned

We learnt some lessons from this experience. I have already suggested that it confirmed some of our preconceptions, but it also challenged some of them.

We found that a crisis for the collections may coincide with other crises that attract a higher priority for attention. We had to decide whether that was a problem or just a fact of life. In some ways it was a blessing, as it allowed us to get on with the job we were being paid to do without having someone hovering uncomfortably beside us all the time.

We found that we had assumed some wrong things about who would be available to support our part of the crisis. We were surely not the first planners to write disaster scripts with leading roles for key staff who happened to be acting in three or four other shows at the same time. We learned to take whatever chances came our way to talk to those people and to get on without them in between times. In a real emergency we would probably have even more trouble. It means that we need a more realistic view of who will be doing what when the alarms really start ringing.

We discovered, or confirmed, that guilt about a half-developed disaster plan is a poor substitute for clear thinking. It was better to be realistic and make the best of what we had than to wish we had a more detailed plan that told us what to do in every situation. This is not a suggestion to do away with disaster plans; they merely need to be kept in perspective. It is better to work out what you need to achieve and to keep a clear head, than to try to plan for every detail and rely on that to solve every problem.

The lesson was that we cannot control the future, however much we plan for it. Preparing for it is probably best served by looking at different scenarios and thinking about the objectives that might apply in each case, and then committing ourselves to working with the unknown when we have to. Almost inevitably we find ourselves thrown back on our wits to deal with the unexpected. As we say in our plan: "know your procedures - use your initiative". Beyond setting some basic procedures, probably the best planning is that which will help key staff to use their initiative appropriately. Being clear about objectives is perhaps the most empowering thing we can do to support that.

We also learned something about the quiet politics of disasters and how we manage them: virtually every act conveys a message in the organisation. In thinking about objectives it is worth thinking about the messages we might hope to convey. One is that the collections are important and are worth looking after, another might be about the kind of responsibility we are willing to take and willing to share.

All of this sounds like pragmatism ahead of idealism. Unlike asbestos, pragmatism should not be a dirty word. We learned that in a real crisis people are under pressure. When we focus on what other people should be doing, it is easy to waste a lot of time and energy trying to turn up the pressure on them when they are already near their limits.

This kind of pragmatism requires preparation and commitment. It is usually difficult to work out what the bottom line will be and hard to commit yourself to working with the unexpected as it comes towards you. Our funny little disaster - the one that could never quite work out if it was the real thing or just an elaborate practice - has strongly suggested to us that it is worth the effort and worth the commitment.

Acknowledgment

This paper reflects the experience (though not necessarily the views) of a number of Preservation Services staff from the National Library of Australia, in particular the Manager of Collection Preservation, Lydia Preiss, and Kim Morris, Deb Woodyard and Chesley Engram of the Collection Preservation section.


Author Autobiography

Following training in bookbinding and in paper conservation, Colin Webb has worked professionally in the preservation of archive and library collections since 1983, first with Australian Archives and since 1993 with the National Library of Australia, where he is the Manager of Technical Preservation. His current areas of interest include the preservation of digital information and the preservation use of digital technologies, microfilming, sound preservation, and preservation management.

He can be contacted at:

Preservation Services, National Library of Australia
Canberra ACT 2600
Telephone: (06) 2621381
Facsimile: (06) 2571703
E-mail: cwebb@nla.gov.au


Colin Webb, Preservation Services
November 1995.

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