Monthly Archive for January, 2009

37. VOLUNTEERS

Panel of Experts:
Mr Joseph Corponi
Senior Project Manager, Arts Victoria
Ms Anne-Marie Schwirtlich
State Librarian & Director, State Library of Victoria

37.1. INTRODUCTION

A volunteer is a person that delivers a community service and is not paid.[1] Collecting organisations, large and small, are dependant on volunteers. Small museums often have no paid staff and are entirely dependent on the generosity of volunteers. Large galleries, libraries and museums, although they do have employed staff, have quite sophisticated volunteer programs: not only do they permit resources to go further; such programs are one of the valuable tools by which a collection is hooked to its public.[2]

Given the importance of volunteers to the functioning of most collecting institutions good governance requires that the collection management scheme includes a volunteer policy.[3] The common purpose of all volunteer policies is to articulate:

1. the rationale for using volunteers;

2. the way in which volunteers will be selected, inducted, trained;

3. the tasks for which volunteers may appropriately be used;

4. the rewards that will be given to the volunteer;

5. the responsibilities that the volunteer has to the organisation and its public; and

6. the responsibilities owed by the organisation to the volunteer.

It is the last two of these (the responsibilities) with which this discussion is most concerned.

When analysing volunteers within a legal framework we ask:

  • What is the legal basis of the relationship between an organisation and its volunteers?
  • Can the organisation contract with a volunteer?
  • What is the duty of care owed to volunteers?
  • Who owes a duty of care to the volunteer?
  • What are the duties of the volunteer to the organisation?
  • Can volunteers incur legal liabilities?
  • Can the organisation insure its volunteers?

What is the legal basis of the relationship between an organisation and its volunteers?

There is no question that the institution has a legal relationship with its volunteers – but what is it? Actually defining the legal nature of the relationship is not simple.

Volunteers are unpaid, so they are not employees.[4] Arguably they may be independent contractors.[5] Essentially, they are ‘invitees’ who, in return for their services, are provided privileges and benefits beyond those granted to the institution’s normal invitees (the public). The term ‘volunteer’ does not mean that they are not owed duties, for the institution owes duties to all of its invitees – but they are not the same duties that are owed to employees.

37.2 CAN THE ORGANISATION CONTRACT WITH A VOLUNTEER?

There has been a common misconception that because volunteers are not paid, they cannot enter a valid contract with the institution. This mistake arises from an erroneous interpretation of the legal requirement that for a valid contract there must be mutual ‘consideration’: that is, that each party must give something of value to the other.[6] This is where the term ‘volunteer’ causes confusion. There is no question that the individual is providing something of benefit to the institution but the term ‘volunteer’ is misleading in that it implies that the institution is not giving something of value to the individual in return. It may not be paying them but it is giving them training, access to exhibitions, access to the backrooms of the collection, social occasions and so on. These are all benefits to the volunteer notwithstanding that they do not have a cash value. The law on this is quite clear: Consideration does not have to have a cash value; nor do the respective benefits need to be of equivalent value. The only requirement is that the consideration given by one party must be something of value to the other.[7]

Accordingly there is no legal reason why institutions cannot enter valid agreements with their ‘volunteers’. Indeed there is no reason why they would not. Every organisation that uses volunteers should have a written contract for volunteers, setting out the function of the volunteer and the rights and obligations of both parties. It does not have to be in legalese – and indeed should not be. It should be a simple, unambiguous statement of what the organisation expects from, and will do for, the volunteer.[8] The contract must be signed, dated and a copy given to the volunteer. No volunteer should be allowed to work on behalf of the organisation without signing a volunteer agreement. To do so is not being friendly and relaxed; it is bad practice that puts both parties at risk.

37.3 THE DUTY OF CARE OWED TO VOLUNTEERS

37.3.1 Negligence

Since Mr Stevenson allegedly caused Mrs Donohue terrible shock by selling her a soft drink replete with a dead snail, the dreams of lawyers have echoed with the words of Lord Atkin:

The liability for negligence, whether you style it such or treat it as in other systems as a species of ‘culpa’ [fault], is no doubt based upon a general public sentiment of moral wrongdoing for which the offender must pay. But acts or omissions, which any moral code would censure, cannot in a practical world be treated so as to give a right to every person injured by them to demand relief. In this way rules of law arise which limit the range of complainants and the extent of their remedy. The rule that you are to love your neighbour becomes in law, you must not injure your neighbour; and the lawyer’s question ‘Who is my neighbour?’ receives a restricted reply. You must take reasonable care to avoid acts or omissions which you can reasonably foresee would be likely to injure your neighbour. Who, then, in law is my neighbour? The answer seems to be – persons who are so closely and directly affected by my act that I ought reasonably to have them in contemplation as being so affected when I am directing my mind to the acts or omissions which are called into question.[9]

Besides being a lovely piece of judicial logic, it makes it clear that under the Common Law, volunteers are owed a duty of care because the organisation ‘ought reasonably have them in contemplation’. Liability is not based on contract; it is based on the duty of care.[10]

Establishing the existence of the duty of care may be straight forward enough in the case of volunteers[11] but that does not assume that the organisation that owes the duty of care has actually breached that duty.[12] That really is a question that will be determined on the facts of each case. To do this, you ask whether the risk was foreseeable and significant, and whether a reasonable person would have taken precautions.

In determining whether a reasonable person would have taken the precautions against risk or harm, the court takes into account the following:

  • the probability that the harm would occur if care were not taken;
  • the likely seriousness of the harm;
  • the burden of taking precautions to avoid the risk of harm; and
  • the social utility of the activity that creates the risk of harm.[13]

37.3.2 Applicability of workplace legislation to volunteers

Volunteers, like employees, risk suffering physical injury in the workplace. The absence of pay doesn’t change the risk – indeed because volunteers are often inexperienced, the risk of suffering (and indeed causing) injury may be greater than that applicable to employees.

Volunteers injured in the workplace, unlike employees, do not have the benefit of WorkCover. That is not to say that they are not owed a duty of care. Far from it. Although most statues controlling safety in the workplace do not specifically mention volunteers, they apply to everyone in the workplace.[14] Occupational health and safety obligations, construction regulations and hazardous materials requirements, all apply to volunteers as well as employees.[15] This means that it is the organisation that is primarily liable for injuries suffered by volunteers in the workplace. As Volunteering Australia observes:

In most instances, volunteers fall under the category of ‘other persons’ to whom a volunteer-involving organisation owes a duty of care. While an employer’s duty of care to ‘other persons’ is not usually defined as specifically as it is for employees, breaches of this duty of care are just as important and treated as seriously as if the person were an paid employee.[16]

Accordingly, either the organisation should maintain cover for its volunteers or the volunteers should be encouraged to take out personal accident insurance for the period of their volunteer work.

That said, because of the spiralling cost of personal injury claims and the related mountainous increases in insurance premiums, the Commonwealth and the states have all implemented legislation in place which, to some extent, limits the duty of care in general, and to volunteers in particular. For ease of reference we can refer to these statutes as the Civil Liability legislation.

37.3.3 Statutory limitation of volunteer liability

The Civil Liability legislation is similar in all jurisdictions. First, it codifies the test for negligence. For example:

5B General principles

(1) A person is not negligent in failing to take precautions against a risk of harm unless:

(a) the risk was foreseeable (that is, it is a risk of which the person knew or ought to have known), and

(b) the risk was not insignificant, and

(c) in the circumstances, a reasonable person in the person’s position would have taken those precautions.

(2) In determining whether a reasonable person would have taken precautions against a risk of harm, the court is to consider the following (amongst other relevant things):

(a) the probability that the harm would occur if care were not taken,

(b) the likely seriousness of the harm,

(c) the burden of taking precautions to avoid the risk of harm,

(d) the social utility of the activity that creates the risk of harm.

5C Other principles

In proceedings relating to liability for negligence:

(a) the burden of taking precautions to avoid a risk of harm includes the burden of taking precautions to avoid similar risks of harm for which the person may be responsible, and

(b) the fact that a risk of harm could have been avoided by doing something in a different way does not of itself give rise to or affect liability for the way in which the thing was done, and

(c) the subsequent taking of action that would (had the action been taken earlier) have avoided a risk of harm does not of itself give rise to or affect liability in respect of the risk and does not of itself constitute an admission of liability in connection with the risk. [17]

This kind of provision limits the Common Law and limits exposure to civil liability actions generally. But there is more.

Each jurisdiction has taken the opportunity to give particular protection to volunteers. This legislation has two aspects:

· it limits the personal liability for negligence of a volunteer who works for a community organisation and transfers the volunteer’s liability to the community organisation; and

· it limits the right to bring proceedings against the volunteer personally and hence reducing the risk to a volunteer of incurring legal costs as a result of the voluntary work.[18]

Of course, not everyone who does work without payment is protected by the legislation. For example, the Commonwealth limits its legislative protection to volunteers working for the Commonwealth or one of its agencies.[19] It provides that a person will not incur personal liability where it arises from work done in good faith, on a voluntary basis, and which is or was organised by the Commonwealth or agency. The States and Territories limit their protection to volunteers for their actions either in performing ‘community work’ organised by the organisation or as an office holder of it. There are some key definitions.

Community organisation’ means ‘any of the following that organises the doing of community work by volunteers and that is capable of being sued for damages in civil proceedings:

(a) a body corporate,

(b) a church or other religious organisation,

(c) an authority of the State.’[20]

You will notice that the definition includes voluntary work performed on behalf of the state, the Church and for an incorporated organisation. The later is very important in the context of community groups: unless they are incorporated (either as an incorporated association, a company or a statutory trust), their volunteers will not have the benefit of this legislative protection. If there were not already sufficient good reasons for every community group to incorporate, this would provide it.

‘Community work’ meanswork that is not for private financial gain and that is done for a charitable, benevolent, philanthropic, sporting, educational or cultural purpose’. Collecting organisations clearly have a cultural purpose.

Volunteer’ means ‘a person who does community work on a voluntary basis’ The term ‘voluntary’ excludes people providing their services under a court order (because that is clearly not voluntary) but does not exclude people who get their expenses paid or who are paid ‘within limits prescribed by the regulations’.[21]

37.3.4 Exclusions

Unsurprisingly, the protection given to volunteers is not absolute. The work must be organised by the organisation (or arise from the volunteers’ role as an officer of the organisation): It does not apply when the volunteer is doing the work off their own bat. So what does ‘organised’ mean? The statutes give guidance – but their definitions are only ‘inclusive’. For example, the legislation says that ‘organised’ includes ‘directed or supervised’. The definition does not exclude situations in which the work was neither directed nor supervised but still should reasonably come within the term. For example, Mrs Robinson who had run the tuck shop at the local school for many years had done so largely unsupervised and undirected. Nevertheless the Court held that she was a volunteer.[22]

37.4 WHO OWES A DUTY OF CARE TO THE VOLUNTEER ?

This is answered by the question: ‘Who had the duty to take precautions against the risk or harm that caused the injury?’ Where that person is an employee of a statutory or incorporated organisation, through the principles of vicarious liability, it is the organisation that eventually bears the financial liability. However the issue is more difficult when dealing with small community groups for they are reliant on volunteers and are often unincorporated. When an accident happens to one of their volunteers, the injured person has no corporate body to sue and will often look to the committee members for recourse.

In the case of Hrybynyuk v Mazur[23] the plaintiff was a member of the Russian Club, an unincorporated association. He was asked to attend a working bee by the club president. While doing so he suffered extensive injuries when he fell through the roof of the shed that he was helping to demolish. The plaintiff sued Mr Mazur on the basis that, as president of the club, he owed Mr Hrybynyuk a duty of care in relation to the demolition work. The trial judge held that although there was a duty of care, there had been no breach of this duty and thus entered a verdict for Mr Mazur. This case ended well for the club president but principles set out by Justice Beazley are instructive for those responsible for administering unincorporated community collections:

Generally, a member of an unincorporated association does not owe a duty of care to other members of the association if that is the only relationship between them.[24]

Membership of an association’s committee is not sufficient to displace that principle. For a duty of care to arise between the members of an unincorporated association, it needs to be established on ordinary principles of negligence that a duty of care is owed in the particular circumstances.

A person who seeks the services of a volunteer may be liable in negligence.[25]

In accepting the task of arranging for the demolition of two sheds on Club premises given to him by the committee, Mr Mazur owed Mr Hrybynyuk a duty of care.

The duty of care in this case arose on the ordinary principles of negligence. The factors relevant to liability were common and coextensive regardless of whether the case is considered under the construct of a duty owed by Mr Mazur as a committee member or a duty owed to Mr Hrybynyuk as a volunteer. On either basis, a duty of care was owed.

There was no evidence to establish breach of duty. In particular, there was no evidence the defect would have been ascertained upon an inspection by a qualified builder. Nor was there evidence that a person with appropriate supervisory skills would have directed Mr Hrybynyuk not to climb onto the roof.

It is also sanguine to note that when considering the obligation to fulfil the duty of care, the courts will not be impressed by the argument that the defendant didn’t have the resources to meet their duty of care. In PQ v Australian Red Cross Society[26] the judge held that the duty of care to the plaintiff is to be tested by reference to ‘a reasonable person with adequate resources available for the activity in which it was engaging’. In that case the jury was instructed that it must not test the defendant’s compliance with its duty of care by reference to the standard which might be expected of a partly voluntary charitable or benevolent organisation with limited resources of finance or staff.

37.4.1 Sexual harassment

It is unlawful for a ‘workplace participant’ to sexually harass another workplace participant at their place of work.[27] This applies to volunteers as well as employees.

The definition of ‘workplace participant’ includes volunteers and unpaid trainees.[28]

37.5 DUTIES OF THE VOLUNTEER TO THE ORGANISATION

All volunteers should be made aware that the collecting institution has very real expectations of them. They have to understand that, at the very least, they must:

  • understand the objectives and functions of the organisation and the specific services that it provides;
  • understand and comply with the organisations policies and procedures;
  • participate in all relevant induction and training programs;
  • operate under the direction and supervision of nominated staff;
  • notify the appropriate program supervisor of any hazardous situations that pose a risk to themselves or others;
  • report any accidents or incidents relating to staff, volunteers or plant and equipment;[29]
  • behave appropriately and courteously to both the staff and the public with whom they interact in the course of their services.

These and other matters should be set out in the volunteer management policy, the volunteers’ information sheets or manuals, or incorporated in some other way in the agreement between the volunteer and the organisation.

37.6 CAN VOLUNTEERS INCUR LEGAL LIABILITIES ?

37.6.1 Personal liability

There are many instances where volunteers have incurred legal liability for their actions. Most of these relate to volunteers working within emergency services rather than collecting institutions but the principles are the same, even if the degree of risk is different. For example, volunteer guides responsible for a school tour, owe a heavy duty of care to the children in their care. It would tire the imagination to list the many ways in which members of tour groups can cause damage to themselves, to others and to exhibition objects. Each such incident averted, is a legal liability that will not need to be litigated.

Because governments recognised that volunteering to be an essential public benefit and that insurance cover was becoming prohibitively expensive, all Australian jurisdictions have introduced legislation to reduce the legal liability of volunteers.[30] For example:

61 Protection of volunteers

A volunteer does not incur any personal civil liability in respect of any act or omission done or made by the volunteer in good faith when doing community work[31]:

(a) organised by a community organisation, or

(b) as an office holder of a community organisation.[32]

It is very important to note that the statutory definition of a ‘community organisation’ includes a body corporate (such as an Incorporated Association or a company); a religious organisation or an authority of the state. This definition means that unless the collection is within a religious or government[33] environment, the organisation must be incorporated if it is to give this protection to its volunteers.

37.6.2 Occupational health and safety

It has already been made clear that volunteers are protected by occupational health and safety (OH&S) legislation. However, when the volunteer is a director or person involved in the management of the organisation, that same legislation together with the person’s directorial or managerial role in the organisation creates potential liability for the volunteer. After all, in certain circumstances, board members and senior management may be held liable for the faults of the organisation and this is a major disincentive to people volunteering their expertise to community purposes.

For example in South Australia, the Volunteers Protection Act 2001 provides the (now) normal protection for volunteers,[34] stating that the liability that would have been owed by the volunteer is, thanks to the legislation, owed by the community organisation for which the volunteer works.[35] However, it goes on to provide that the a person

who suffers injury, loss or damage as a result of the act or omission of a volunteer may not sue the volunteer personally unless (i) it is clear from the circumstances of the case that the immunity conferred by this Act does not extend to the case; or (ii) the injured person brings an action in the first instance against the community organisation but the community organisation then disputes, in a defence filed to the action, that it is liable for the act or omission of the volunteer.[36]

This means that the plaintiff must first sue the organisation rather than bring personal proceedings against the volunteer director or manager. But it leaves a sting in the volunteer’s tail. If the organisation decides to set the volunteer adrift, it can. If the organisation dispute that it is liable for the acts or omissions of the volunteer, the volunteer is exposed to personal legal proceedings. This is no small matter. The family home and all personal possessions are exposed.

To overcome this hurdle for volunteers, some jurisdictions have introduced legislation that absolves volunteers from such liability. For example, in 2008, NSW amended its occupational health and safety legislation so that is absolutely clear that a director or person concerned in the management of a corporation who is a volunteer, would not be liable for the OH&S responsibilities of the organisation.[37]

37.6.3 Exclusions

Volunteers are not protected if performing a criminal act, if they are intoxicated, or if they are acting outside the scope of their activities or contrary to instructions. Nor does it apply to defamation, nor where the liability is covered by third party road accident cover.[38]

37.6.4 Vicarious liability

One of the great risk management issues for any organisation using volunteers is this: Can the organisation be liable for the acts of its volunteers? The answer varies from jurisdiction to jurisdiction.

As a general principle, the common law doctrine of vicarious liability applies only to employment relationships and as a volunteer is not an employee, no vicarious liability is possible. However, in all of the States except Queensland, the common law position has been varied by legislation so that for these purposes, a volunteer is treated as an employee and the organisation assumes the liability of the volunteer.[39] In the federal jurisdiction, where a volunteer works in good faith for the Commonwealth or a Commonwealth authority, the Commonwealth will be vicariously liable for the acts of that volunteer.[40] In Queensland, the legislation is not clear as to whether the organisation will be vicariously liable for its volunteers. That will need clarification by case law or legislation.

37.6.5 Can the organisation get an indemnity from the volunteer?

As the above shows, the legislation basically saves the volunteer from personal liability but does not protect the organisation for which the volunteer is working. The organisation is still potentially liable for the acts of its volunteers. Lest some clever-Harry administration seek to limit its risk by having its volunteers indemnify the organisation, this is prohibited. Any such indemnity is ineffective.

37.7 INSURANCE AND VOLUNTEERS

37.7.1 Can the organisation insure its volunteers?

There is no reason why the institution cannot insure its volunteers in the event that they are injured in the course of their services. The better question is ‘Why would you not take out volunteer insurance?’ The Centre for Volunteering goes as far as saying, ‘Not-for-profit organisations engaging volunteers must carry public liability insurance and volunteer personal accident insurance.’[41] Must. No maybes.

Having such protection is basic good governance: By doing so, the institution provides protection to those in its care and, at the same time, protects itself against the financial cost of litigation should the volunteer suffer injury in the course of their services.

Volunteer insurance is commonplace and, in the collections sector, reasonably affordable. (It is certainly affordable when one considers the cost of a successful claim by an injured volunteer.) The costs, however, are increasing.

Part of the problem is the unrealistic view that volunteer historical organisations have of themselves as insurance risks. In general, volunteer groups tend to see themselves as low risk because they are run by well-meaning, dedicated people who only put on two or three small events each year.

Insurers see volunteers as inexperienced amateurs staging events with the kind of liability that may not emerge for five years – and keeping poor records (or none at all) of incidents that may result in later claims. Moreover, the insurer’s administrative costs are the same for a $300 premium or a $50 000 one. From the insurer’s perspective a typical historical organisation presents a long-term risk for no cash value. [42]

Insurers are also unconvinced by the argument that a volunteer organisation has operated for years without a claim and is therefore low risk.

Some small organisations rely on their public liability policy in the hope that it will cover their volunteers. Whether this is appropriate depends completely on the small print of the individual policy. In most cases, volunteers will not be covered by a public liability policy because their relationship to the institution goes beyond the policy’s definition of ‘public’. Before relying on a public liability policy it is essential that you ask the insurance company in writing for assurance that the volunteers will be covered. If the answer is ‘yes’, all is well. If it is ‘no’, you can ask that the insurer extends the public liability policy to include the volunteers and pay the extra premium, or enter a separate volunteers policy.

37.7.2 Types of insurances relevant to volunteers

It is important to consider the breadth of the protection offered to volunteers by legislation and then consider what other risks should be insured. A broker experienced in the volunteer sector is essential.

The range of insurances relevant to volunteers is little different to the range that is relevant to not-for-profit organisations generally: After all, it is the activities that are being insured and it is irrelevant that paid staff or volunteers are performing them.

Any list of insurances relevant to volunteers will include the following:

Volunteer workers personal accident insurance: This is similar to the compulsory cover that employers have to take out for their paid employees. It covers volunteers for out-of-pocket expenses following accidental injury, disability, or death while working for the organisation. Depending on the type of policy, this type of insurance should normally cover loss of income.[43]

Public liability insurance: This covers personal injury or property damage caused to third parties by those working on behalf of the organisation. The policy should include protection for volunteers that cause such liability. After all, if a member of the public is injured, he or she will sue both the organisation and the volunteer worker who is alleged to have caused the loss. It is important to make one loud warning: Many organisations choose not to take out personal accident cover because they believe that their volunteers are covered by their public liability cover. Such policies are about as rare as the unicorn. You need both kinds of cover – one is designed to make sure that the public has a remedy in the event of loss; the other makes sure that the volunteer has a remedy in the event of injury, disability or death. The organisation has a duty to protect its public and its workers.

Directors’ and officers’ liability insurance: This cover is designed to protect those who serve on the governing body of the organisation. Given the liabilities that are imposed on the directors of companies and trustees, it is essential cover. No-one should serve on a board without insisting that the organisation take out such cover.

Professional indemnity insurance: This is only occasionally necessary for collecting organisations. It protects the organisation, paid staff and volunteers in the event that a claim is made for breach of professional duty or advice resulting from negligence, error, omission, loss of records, dishonesty and so on. If the organisation provides valuations or estimates of value for the public or provides opinions as to authenticity or provenance, then such cover would be prudent. However, it is really only relevant to situations in which the organisation owes a professional duty of care or is giving advice. If volunteers are performing such functions, it is important to check that they are covered.

Motor vehicle comprehensive insurance: This insurance covers the organisation’s vehicles whether they are driven by volunteers or paid staff. It covers loss or damage to the vehicle or third party property. If volunteers are using their own vehicle in the course of their volunteering the organisation would be prudent to advise the volunteers to inform their motor vehicle insurer.

Property and contents insurance: This is little different from the usual householder’s insurance. It has no particular relevance to volunteers.

When considering insurance, the Centre for Volunteering provides four pieces of very practical advice:

  • Check that your policy specifically covers your volunteer staff for their normal work practices and has an up-to-date age range.
  • Presume anything not stated in your policy is NOT covered.
  • Disclose all relevant facts to the insurer, even planned activities or events requiring insurance in the future.
  • Presume risk management practices are a basis for insurance.[44]

37.8 THE VOLUNTEER CONTRACT CHECKLIST 

Given that volunteers are owed a duty of care it is important that every institution that uses volunteers has a contract that defines the rights and responsibilities of each party towards the other. Although volunteer agreements will vary from institution to institution according to the uses that it makes of its volunteers and the benefits that it offers in return, the basic contents of such agreements should be reasonably similar. The following is a checklist that describes these characteristics.

Click here to view an image of this checklist.

VOLUNTEER CONTRACT CHECKLIST

1. Name of the institution

2. Name and contact details of the volunteer

3. Name of the person within the institution who is responsible for the volunteer program (and thus the volunteer) so that the communication channels and chain of command is clear

4. The functions of the volunteer and the workload obligations to which they are committing

5. The level of training or qualifications required of a volunteer before they will be permitted to perform various functions

6. The benefits that the institution will give the volunteer in return for their services

7. The obligation of care that the volunteer must fulfil towards the objects and the administrative system of the institution

8. The volunteers’ obligation of care and courtesy towards the members of the public with whom they interact in the course of their services

9. Any dress and appearance standards that are required

10. The obligation of care that the institution has to the volunteer while the volunteer is providing services to and on behalf of the institution

11. The insurance protection that the institution offers to the volunteer

12. The assessment protocols that the institution has in place to ensure the on-going quality of the work provided by the volunteer

13. The ongoing education requirements so that the knowledge of the volunteers is always reasonably current and of suitable standard to their functions

14. The disciplinary procedures that determine the consequences of the volunteer breaching his or her obligations under the agreement

15. The grounds upon which the either party can terminate the agreement and the process by which this will be done

16. A provision that permits the institution to change the terms of the agreement; that sets out how those changes may be communicated to the volunteer and provides the mechanism by which the volunteer confirms their acceptance of such changes. This provision should make it clear that if the volunteer does not accept the change in the terms, their only recourse is termination of the agreement.

In many institutions, the rules and duties that govern the volunteer will be set out in a volunteers’ handbook. Where the institution has such a document it may considerably simplify the agreement by including a term that requires the volunteer to act in accordance with all of the obligations provided in that document. In this way, provided that the volunteers’ handbook is well articulated and comprehensive, the contract between the volunteer and the institution can be quite brief.

At the end of the day, it is only respectful towards one’s volunteers to have a considered and fair document that fully describes each of the parties’ expectations and obligations. Volunteers are not martyrs; they are part of and essential contributors to the collections community.


[1] A person is still a volunteer if reimbursed for out-of-pocket expenses or other costs.

[2] For example, see D. Wilksch (Public Records Office, Victoria), ‘Community Museums and Volunteer Stories’, (Paper presented at the Museums Australia Conference, Brisbane, 2006.

[3] See the excellent risk management advice provided by Volunteering Queensland Inc, ‘Insurance for Organisations Involving Volunteers’, <http://www.volqld.org.au>. Also see the risk management reviews undertaken in 2004 and 2005 by the Local Government Association Mutual Liability Scheme (LGAMLS), the South Australian organisation formed to protect and assist councils to manage their civil liability risks and claims.

[4] What are common indicators of employees? They are paid regularly (for example, weekly/fortnightly/monthly); are entitled to superannuation; have income tax deducted; are entitled to receive paid leave; and perform work under the direction of their employer.

[5] What are common indicators of independent contractors? They have control as to how to carry out the work and the expertise to do so; pay their own superannuation and GST; often use their own tools; are contracted to work for a set period of time or to do a set task and decide what hours to work to complete the specific work.

See <http://www.wo.gov.au/data/portal/00007407/content/08155001183342241733.pdf>.

[6] A relationship where the consideration is not mutual is a gift and you cannot form a contract to make a gift. A gift is only enforceable when it is in the form of a deed. A ‘deed’ has particular formal requirements.

[7] Provision of an Annual Mayoral Buffet Tea for the Council’s volunteers and the provision of various awards and certificates may be a benefit – but it is not remuneration.

[8] Refer to the checklist at the end of this chapter for guidance as to the issues that you might choose to cover.

[9] Donohue v Stevenson [1932] AC 562.

[10] Hrybynyuk v Mazur [2004] NSWCA 374. In Lobb v Central West County Council, Supreme Court, NSW, Lusher J., 15 Sept 1978, CL Nos 9031-2175 it was held that a volunteer may recover damages for injury suffered from the peril or risk negligently created, but if the injury is caused by some other, extraneous activity related to the danger, the position is different. The plaintiff was assisting in fighting a bush fire that allegedly had been caused by the negligence of the defendant. In the course of fighting the fire, the plaintiff fell off a truck and was injured. He was not entitled to recover damages in respect of injuries resulting from the fall.

[11] Hehir v Harvie & Duffield [1949] SASR 77.

[12] Hrybynyuk v Mazur [2004] NSWCA 374, in which the existence of the duty of care was established but the plaintiff could not prove that the duty of care had been breached. In that case there was no evidence the defect would have been ascertained upon an inspection by a qualified builder. Nor was there evidence that a person with appropriate supervisory skills would have directed Mr Hrybynyuk not to climb onto the roof.

[13] Volunteering Australia: <http://www.volunteeringaustralia.org/files/4M470AJYX9/OHS%20NSW.pdf>.

[14] For example, in NSW although occupational health and safety is governed principally by the Occupational Health and Safety Act 2000 (NSW), other relevant legislation includes the Dangerous Goods Act 1975 (NSW); Workplace (Occupants Protection) Act 2001 (NSW); and Civil Liability Act 2002 (NSW); and the Workers’ Compensation Act 1987 (NSW). With the exception of volunteer fire-fighters and volunteer emergency service personnel, volunteers can not make a claim for compensation under NSW workers’ compensation laws. Volunteers can make a civil claim for damages for a breach of occupational health and safety laws.

[15] See Lenz v Trustees of the Catholic Church [2005] NSWCA 446, BC200511170, in which a volunteer assisting with construction fell from the roof sustaining injury. The Full Court of the Supreme Court (NSW) held that it was the duty of the organisation, not the volunteer, to comply with the Construction Safety Regulations 1950 (NSW). In that case the organisation won because it was found that it had adequately warned the injured volunteer.

[16] <http://www.volunteeringaustralia.org/files/4M470AJYX9/OHS%20NSW.pdf>.

[17] Civil Liability Act 2002 (NSW).

[18] See preamble to the Volunteers Protection Act 2001 (SA). Most other jurisdictions are similar.

[19] Commonwealth Volunteers Protection Act 2003 (Cth) s 6.

[20] Civil Liability Act 2002 (NSW) s 60.

[21] What does that last phrase apply to? If the directors of the Australian Museum were paid a sitting fee that was set by a mechanism established by a government Regulation, they would still be considered ‘volunteers’ notwithstanding that they had received some remuneration. Accordingly, they would be protected as volunteers. (By the way, they do not receive remuneration.)

[22] Robinson v Tyndale Christian School [2000] SAIRC37, a decision of the South Australian Industrial Relations Court.

[23] [2004] NSWCA 374.

[24] Owen v Northampton Borough Council [1992] 156 LGR 23; Prole v Allen [1950] 1 All ER 476; Robertson v Ridley & Anor [1989] 1 WLR 872.

[25] Hehir v Harvie & Duffield [1949] SASR 77.

[26] [1992] 1 VR 19.

[27] For example, Anti-Discrimination Act 1977 (NSW), s 22B(9) – A ‘workplace participant’ includes an employer, employee, commission agent, contract worker, partner in a partnership, a self-employed person and a volunteer or unpaid trainee.

[28] Ibid at s 22B(6); Hollingsworth v Commissioner of Police, New South Wales Police [2004] NSWADT 17 (applicant was found not to be a ‘workplace participant’). See, for example, Borg v Commissioner, Dept of Corrective Services [2002] NSWADT 42; Ferreira v Wollongong Spanish Club Pty Ltd [2005] NSWADT 57.

[29] City of Tea Tree Gully, Volunteer Management Policy, <http://www.teatreegully.sa.gov.au/page?pg=1513&stypen=html>.

[30] Commonwealth Volunteers Protection Act 2003 (Cth); Civil Law (Wrongs) Act 2002 (ACT); Civil Liability Act 2002 (NSW); Personal Injuries (Civil Claims) Act 2003 (NT); Civil Liability Act 2003 (Qld); Civil Liability Act 1936 (SA), Volunteers Protection Act 2001 (SA); Civil Liability Act 2002 (Tas); Wrongs Act 1958 (Vic); Civil Liability Act 2002 (WA).

[31] Ibid. ‘Community work’ means work that is not for private financial gain and that is done for a charitable, benevolent, philanthropic, sporting, educational or cultural purpose (s 60).

[32] Ibid. s 60.

[33] Note that the Commonwealth legislation does not relate to community work but rather, work done for the Commonwealth or one of its agencies: A volunteer will not incur civil liability for anything he or she does in good faith while doing work for the Commonwealth or a Commonwealth agency (provided that the work is done on a voluntary basis and is organised by the Commonwealth or agency).

[34] Section 4: ‘Subject to the following exceptions, a volunteer incurs no personal civil liability for an act or omission done or made in good faith and without recklessness in the course of carrying out community work for a community organization’.

[35] Section 5.

[36] Section 5.

[37] Occupational Health and Safety Amendment (Liability of Volunteers) Act 2008 (NSW).

[38] See statutes cited at n 27.

[39] For example, see Volunteers Protection Act 2001 (SA) s 5.

[40] Commonwealth Volunteers Protection Act 2003 (Cth) s 7, but see defence in sub-s (2). In Queensland, the legislation does not make it clear whether the organisation can be vicariously liable even though the volunteer is not.

[41] <http://www.volunteering.com.au/working_with_volunteers/insurance.asp>.

[42] June Edwards & Beth M. Robertson, ‘Insurance Issues at the opening of the 21st Century.’ Originally published in History Matters, the History Trust of South Australia magazine Vol 14, Number 3, November 2004.

[43] See Volunteering Queensland Inc, ‘Insurance for Organisations Involving Volunteers’, <http://www.volqld.org.au>. VQ warns that students and work placements are often not covered by the wording of such policies. This illustrates how important it is to read the wording of the policy on offer and negotiate its terms so that it fits the particular needs of your organisation.

[44] <http://www.volunteering.com.au/working_with_volunteers/insurance.asp>.

08. DEACCESSIONING OF MATERIAL FROM THE COLLECTION

Panel of Experts:

Ms Margy Burn
Director, Australian Collections & Reader Services, National Library of Australia
Mr Michael Crayford
Assistant Director, Collections and Exhibitions, Australian National Maritime Museum
Professor Graham Durant
Director, Questacon National Science and Technology Centre
Ms Caroline Lorentz
Manager, Loans, Historic Houses Trust of New South Wales
Mr Tim Sullivan
Deputy CEO and Museums Director, Sovereign Hill Museums Association
Mr Alan Ventress
Director, State Records Authority of New South Wales

MEANING OF DEACCESSIONING

Deaccessioning is a word that has so far escaped the attention of dictionary authors, yet in the museum world it is commonly used. Even amongst museum professionals, there is no certainty: at the very least, it means the administrative removal of an item from the collection.[1] Others insist that the term includes not only the administrative removal of the item from the collection but also its disposal. My view favours the former because deaccessioning and disposal are different procedures, with different risks and different purposes. After all, every disposal of collection material has been preceded by a deaccessioning – but not all deaccessioning is followed by disposal.[2]

Perhaps the differentiation may not be of great significance for it would be unusual to contemplate the removal of an item from the collection without, at the same time, considering the appropriate manner of disposal. For the purposes of this chapter, deaccessioning is treated as being separate from disposal, although they live their lives as conjoined twins.

Context

It is fascinating that the word ‘deaccessioning’ has such different implications depending on the kind of collecting institution in which it is uttered. In libraries, the deaccessioning of duplicate or out of date material is uncontentious in principle and practice. Similarly, the deaccessioning of material in social history, technology, and natural history collections is both necessary and commonplace.

In art museums however, there is a longstanding controversy as to the propriety of deaccessioning. (The reasons for and against deaccessioning are discussed below.)

Archives are quite different again. Of all participants in the collection sector, archives have the most developed machinery for examining and controlling the deaccessioning process. It is not surprising that they have stringent clearance, justification and descriptive requirements given that archive collection material bears a very high presumption of permanence[3] – but only for its assessed period of importance.

Rationale for deaccessioning

There are many reasons for undertaking deaccessioning including the wish to rid the collection of inferior material, clerical errors, space problems, the cost of maintenance and storage, the decay, deterioration or disease of the item, irretrievable loss or irreparable damage, duplication, the desire to raise money for the purchase of superior or more appropriate material, change of collection focus, non-compliance with the accessioning policy, repatriation and so on. No longer can we afford to treat the collecting institution as a mausoleum of culture.

There is nothing inherently wrong with deaccessioning. In itself there is usually nothing illegal or unethical about deaccessioning. It is done all the time.

  • Collection improvement. But for deaccessioning, it would be impossible for museums to develop or even maintain their collections. The cost of administering, storing, securing, conserving the collection is the same whether the work is core to the collection or merely the consequence of an earlier, errant purchasing decision.
  • Collection function. Some collection material, such as some of the material in natural history collections, is specifically held so that it can be used in research programs – many of which require the damage or destruction of the material. The books in public libraries have similar limited life expectancies. This is material that was accessioned in the knowledge and expectation that it would, one day, be deaccessioned.
  • Change of collection function. Some would argue that as the primary role of museums and art galleries has transformed from collecting to public access and engagement, these institutions need fewer works but of greater quality or greater public interest.
  • A consequence of other decisions. Where a government or an institution decides to repatriate collection material such as human remains or sacred objects; where a library decides to close a collection area or a particular type of material (such as, say, periodicals).
  • Application of governing rules. For some types of collections (such as government archives) deaccession is a normal procedure that is mandated by legislation.

Irrespective of the field of the collection, the golden thread of this issue requires that the policies of the institution be clearly and publicly articulated and the mechanisms by which such policies are implemented, are be transparent and immune from accusations of impropriety. Even the most fervent disciples of deaccessioning would agree that there are inherent dangers involved in the process and that the ‘when’, ‘what’, ‘why’ and ‘how’ of deaccessioning, determines whether such conduct is appropriate professional activity or a bastard act.

Arguments against deaccessioning

There are various situations or factors that may indicate that deaccessioning would be inappropriate or even unlawful.

1. Statutory prohibition. Where the organisation has a governing statute, that Act, or regulations or administrative directives that may flow from it, may limit or prohibit certain deaccessioning.[4]

2. Constitutional prohibition.[5] Deaccessioning may be contrary to the constitution of the organisation. More often, constitutional limitations relate to the disposal of collection material rather than its mere deaccessioning.

3. Transaction forbidden. These may arise from preconditions imposed on gifts and bequests. They can also arise from trust arrangements. For example, if the item was donated to the museum on the condition that it not be disposed of, or on the condition that it be on public display at least two months a year, any attempt to deaccession and dispose of the item may be in breach of the conditions of gift.

In some of these situations, depending on the strict legal effect of the transaction documentation, although the intention of the donor may have been clear, it may not be legally enforceable. For example, in many bequests the intentions of the deceased are expressed in a manner that is ‘indicative’ but not technically ‘enforceable’.[6] In such cases, deaccessioning may raise ethical questions but may not be unlawful.

4. Characteristic of the material. In art museums, there has been considerable and ongoing debate as to whether any deaccessioning is appropriate, or indeed ethical. In the art museum context, it is argued that the object is not just rare, scientifically, historically or socially significant: Each work is the unique expression of its creator. It is an approach that sees the inferior works of an artist as important (if not as valuable) as the superior ones for each work is an insight into its creator and none is replaceable.

5. Danger of fashion. Artists and their work are subject to the cyclical vagaries of fashion and a work that was seen as sufficiently significant to warrant acquisition in one era may well fall from grace in a later era – only to undergo reassessment in a yet later era. There are many examples of museums that have deaccessioned major holdings at the low ebb of the fashion tide only to be unable to buy them back at high tide. This factor is particularly important in art museums where this danger is particularly high.

6. Danger of damage to market. The fact that art museums collect the work of living artists creates another complexity: When the work of a living artist is deaccessioned from a public collection, the market for the artist’s work is likely to be deleteriously affected. For this reason, some art museums have a policy prohibiting the deaccessioning of living artists.

7. The whole is greater than the parts. There are museums in which the collection is interesting for reasons other than merely being a sum of its parts. For example the library of a famous philosopher or composer may be more interesting because of what it tells us about that person than the value of the individual books it contains. These are situations in which the public has an interest in maintaining the collection intact: The collection is itself a collectable.

8. Damage to donor relationships. No donor (family) wants to see their generosity discounted and deemed unworthy. Deaccessioning may be objectively warranted on other grounds but its effect on the organisation’s past and future donors can be very destructive. Much diplomacy is required and controversy must be averted.

9. The deaccessioning is for an unethical or controversial purpose. Even when deaccessioning is permitted, irrespective of the type of museum, the deaccessioning of material from a collection can be controversial. It is not sufficient to argue that the money from the sale is to be applied to the objects of the museum. (These objects may include administrative purposes.) All of the national and international codes of ethics are clear that where any material is sold, the money raised must be applied to the purchase of other material for the collection. It is not acceptable for such sums to be applied to construction, renovation, administration and the like.

Controversy

In the 1960s and 1970s, the American museum world seemed to be continually rocked by ‘deaccessioning scandals’. More often than not, these were really ‘disposal scandals’. These affected not only small under-financed and under-staffed museums; they included some of the very biggest names in the field: The Metropolitan Museum of Art, the Brooklyn Museum, the Norton Simon Museum, the Smithsonian Institution, the Boston Museum, the Carnegie-Mellon, the John Hopkins University Museums, the George F Harding Museum, the Art Institute of Chicago, as well as smaller ones such as the Museum of American Indian-Heye Foundation.

The United States experience is informative but not determinative in Australia. There are some very important differences between Australian museums and those of the United Stated. In particular, most Australian museums are government owned and publicly funded; in the United States, most are non-government and are privately funded. The standards applied to collection management decisions in a non-government, privately funded environment are subject to less regulation and less rigorous review and audit, than those in governmental, publicly funded institutions.

In Australia, there have been few major deaccessioning or disposal scandals, to date. This may be because Australians are more honest or more professional than their American counterparts, which seems improbable; or because the collections are not worth misappropriating, which is simply untrue. Rather, most museum administrations have learnt from the American experience and have either introduced procedures that will help avoid improprieties or are rather better educated as to the issues involved.

There was a considerable amount of deaccessioning in the 1930s, 1940s, and 1950s, as art museums around Australia swapped material so as to fill gaps in their collections. In the 1980s, the most controversial examples have involved the removal of objects from collections and handing them back to traditional owners. Certainly, the 1982 deaccessioning and sale by the Art Gallery of New South Wales of two works by Willem Menzler (for the purpose of raising funds for the purchase of an undisclosed larger work), went unremarked, and certainly did not attract the international controversy that the Metropolitan Museum created in the early 1970s when it did similar things, but on a grander scale.

A recent example

In late April 2004, the front pages of the newspapers carried a story of a good man, successful and senior in his profession, tarnished by the innuendo of improper and indeed fraudulent conduct, and as the articles implied, taking ‘retirement’ before the final ignominy of being sacked. This was the most recent, and very public, deaccessioning scandal. The difference this time was that it was in Australia.

Did it really merit front-page treatment? Yes, probably it did. The scandal had taken place over the course of several years in the Parliamentary Library of NSW. The collection was old and valuable; there was a strong odour of conflict of interest and the main protagonist, NSW Parliamentary Librarian, was so naïve as to make newsworthy incriminating statements, seemingly on request.

Had he really done anything so wrong? Certainly he did not think so. As far as he was concerned he was selling off those parts of the collection that were no longer useful to the library so that the shortage of shelf space could be addressed. He believed that the criteria of selection for deaccessioning and the chosen manner of disposal had been appropriate and in the best interests of the library. In his view, there was no wrongdoing because the money thus raised was to go to the administrative purposes of the library, purposes that needed such funding because of financial problems caused by budgetary cutbacks.

There was more than one victim in this scandal. Certainly the Parliamentary Librarian was one, although it must be said that his wounds are entirely self-inflicted. Another, may be the collection, although it may well be that the works were appropriate for deaccessioning. Without doubt however, the reputation of the NSW Parliamentary Library and potentially the entire public collections sector was tarnished.

Every senior professional working in public collecting institutions is aware that, even where there is no suggestion of conflict of interest, deaccessioning is highly contentious and, throughout the world, is a common cause of public controversy. It is particularly so in the world of art museums: Art is subject to fashion and the whim of the museum’s current director and it is always tempting to dispense with yesterday’s fashion in order to acquire works of the new. For art museums, two issues make these decisions particularly pointed: first, the works deaccessioned are frequently very valuable; and second, the objects are usually unique. Once gone, they are irreplaceable.

In social history collections and natural history collections, deaccessioning is frequently undertaken to rationalise holdings that contain unuseful multiples (how many flatirons or duplicate rock samples are really necessary). In libraries, the ephemeral quality of some of the collection (such as editions of text books that have been superseded or multiples of series no longer required when the series is digitised). Given the cost of storing, conserving, insuring, securing, and documenting collection objects, there is no question that all modern collection institutions have to undertake prudent deaccessioning.

What is to be learned from the scandal at the Parliamentary Library? It is not that deaccessioning is, in itself, bad. It is not deaccessioning that is the problem rather why it is undertaken. Further, it should be remembered that it is almost never the deaccessioning itself that causes the problem. It is the disposal.

In the case of the Parliamentary Library scandal, even the newspaper reports are instructive:

1. The Parliamentary Librarian’s downfall happened because there was no detailed, considered and approved policy or procedure in place by which collection items could properly be deaccessioned and disposed. Had he been implementing a policy and procedure that had been carefully articulated and formally approved, there would have been little scope for controversy and even less for scandal and ignominy. Deaccessioning and disposal should be a fundamental part of every collection management policy. If it is not, the management policy is, quite simply, inadequate. This is the responsibility of the institution’s senior management and the governing entity that is responsible for the governance of the organisation.

2. It is no answer to say that the money raised by the deaccessioning and disposal was to be put to the administrative purposes of the organisation. It is clearly stated in all museum codes of ethics, national and international, that any money raised by this process must be reinvested in the collection itself and not used for administrative or capital purposes.

3. The process should never allow a cynical third party (such as a newspaper reporter) to allege that the process was tainted by conflict of interest. This is always difficult for one of the characteristics of humans is that we can always convince ourselves that we are acting with propriety and in the good of the cause. Ethics are things that are breached by others. For this reason, the judgement should not be left entirely to the sensibilities of the individual. The policy and the procedure should assist (indeed require) the individual to act appropriately. This is a basic tenet of good management and governance and it must apply to the director and governing entity of the institution as well as their subordinates.

4. There is no template that can provide an appropriate deaccessioning and disposal policy for every institution. Each has different types of collections, different histories, different collection rationales, and different staffing and financial and resources. That said, each institution should have such a policy. It is a core to risk management and is an essential of good governance.

5. When such a scandal does erupt, the institution should have a procedure in place by which it can make certain that the figure at the centre of the fire does not talk to reporters. The last person who should have been speaking to reporters was the Parliamentary Librarian – the focus of the media heat. This task should have been in the control of someone trained and skilled in handling the media in crisis situations. How many of our directors have crisis media skills training? How many have a protocol that swings into effect when that first reporter telephones? Many would say that they don’t need it. The Parliamentary Librarian may well have had a similar view.

He was an honest man, deeply committed to his collection and his profession. But that saved neither his reputation, nor his collection, nor his profession, from being tarnished. If anything positive is to be learned from this sad story, it is this: deaccessioning and disposal is both necessary and dangerous. Accordingly, every public collecting organisation should have very carefully thought though, clearly articulated, policies and procedures for ensuring the appropriateness of such processes. Such protocols protect those responsible for the governance of the collection. They protect the collection from those same people.

Ongoing debate

The following, is an excerpt from the UK Museums Journal[7]

YESDavid Ewing, director, Geffrye Museum, LondonThe Geffrye Museum follows the MA guidelines. In principle, items bought by museums are held on behalf of the public and the aim should be to keep the collections in the public domain.We would offer items to other museums first and then sell on the open market only if there was no public home for them. The proceeds would then be used to enhance the collection. This situation hasn’t arisen at the Geffrye, but before disposing of any object we would need to be absolutely confident about title and know its provenance to make sure disposal would not be disputed. The material we hold in our collections is relatively straightforward; we don’t hold culturally sensitive material or human remains.The Geffrye has a well-defined collecting policy, a small purchase fund and limited space, so the collection is not growing very fast. We probably acquire an average of 100 items a year.In my view, disposal of museum collections is justifiable as a process of rationalisation; it should never be done in order simply to raise money. The benefits of selling should be about enhancing the collection and not about developing an income stream for the museum. Rationalising the collection should allow scarce resources to be directed more efficiently. Many museums hold surplus material in their collections, which takes up valuable storage space and requires curatorial and conservation care. It makes sense to dispose of it ethically and if it generates some income to benefit the core collection, so much the better. NOTimothy Wilson, keeper of western art, Ashmolean Museum, OxfordThe tacit contract between UK museums and donors is, in my experience, different from America (where deaccessioning to buy more coveted items is a given), especially in museums such as mine. The Ashmolean has grown since 1683 by the generosity of donors who have regarded it as a permanent home for their treasures. It retains the sometimes eccentric character of a collection of collections. People still regularly seek assurances that the museum will never sell works of art they might leave us. Ideal donors let us accession items suitable for the museum and sell the remainder to make acquisitions in their name. But sales of things once accessioned, with the occasional exception of narrowly –defined duplicates, are a betrayal of donors’ expectations.Selling things of doubtful authenticity or that are out of fashion is no better. Increasingly, the history of our great museums is regarded as worth studying. The late Clive Wainwright showed how disastrously post-1945 deaccessioning of Victorian art and of ‘mistakes’ weakened the V&A’s ability to display its own early history, a crucial chapter in world museum history. The history of faking is a developing branch of art history and the source of fascinating exhibitions; and if we root out fakes, how do we teach connoisseurship? So let others deaccession; it is not for us.

The dynamic nature of this area was demonstrated in October 2007 when the UK Museums Association changed its code of ethics on deaccessioning. After debate at its annual conference it now permits disposal for financial gain in exceptional circumstances. These are:

(i) when it will improve public benefit from the remaining collection;

(ii) is not done to meet a short-term funding deficit;

(iii) Is a last resort measure;

(iv) is done after prior consultation; and

(v) if the deaccessioned item lies outside the core collection.[8]

It is interesting to consider how this will work in practice.[9] Its dangers are considerable. Each of the criteria is flawed in that it provides strength only to the hands of those who seek convenient solutions.

(i) Any competent lawyer can construct a cogent argument for the deaccessioning of collection material on the ground that it will improve public benefit from the remaining collection. It is no criterion at all.

(ii) Deaccessioning is not the answer to short-term funding deficits –nor is it the answer to long-term ones. Indeed, those responsible for the governance of the organisation cannot properly look to the deaccessioning of collection items to resolve the organisation’s long-term funding deficits. To do so is lazy and irresponsible.

(iii) The vagueness of describing something as a ‘last resort’, is astounding. One person’s ‘last resort’ is another person’s stimulus. It is too easy to say that there was no other option. There are always other options. You might not have worked out what they might be – but to say that something is a ‘last resort’ tells you more about the decision maker’s state of mind than it does about the difficulty of the problem.

(iv) ‘Prior consultation’ is essential and must be undertaken with all of the stakeholders. Who is relevant will vary but would include internal records, donors, a range of third-party experts, the board and relevant government authorities.

(v) If the material is outside the accessioning policy that is a good reason to deaccession (unless as with some collections, the history of the collection and its vagaries, is part of the cultural heritage of the collection).

So, how do those responsible for a collecting organisation ensure that its deaccessioning practice is both legal and ethical?

Regulation of deaccessioning

There are four sources of restraint and guidance in relation to deaccessioning in Australia:

1. if the institution is established by statute, the statute:

2. if the institution is established as a company, the governing constitution:

3. any relevant transaction documents: and

4. professional codes of ethics.

Statute

Statutory regulation is of two kinds – specific and general. Where the collecting institution is established by statue, most of those statutes make some glancing reference to deaccessioning. For example, the National Gallery Act 1975 states:

Clause 9: Disposal of works of art from national collection

‘(1) Subject to subsection (4), where the Council is satisfied that a work of art in the national collection:

(a) is unfit for the national collection; or

(b) is not required as part of the national collection;

the Council may resolve that the work of art be disposed of by sale, gift or destruction.

(4) The Council shall not resolve that a work of art be disposed of by way of gift or destruction unless the council is satisfied that the work has no saleable value.

(5) Where:

(a) the Council has resolved, in accordance with this section, that a work of art be disposed of; and

(b) the Minister has approved of that disposal;

the Gallery may dispose of that work of art accordingly.’

Clause 38: Power to purchase and dispose of assets

‘(1) The Gallery shall not, without the approval of the Minister:

(b) dispose of any property, right or privilege, other than a work of art, where the amount or value of the consideration for the disposal or the value of the property, right or privilege exceeds $250 000 or, if a higher amount is prescribed, that higher amount;’

Where the collection is a line department within a Ministry, (and thus does not have its own legislation), it will still be subject to the general rules of government record management, retention and disposal.[10]

Local government galleries and museums are not established pursuant to their own act of parliament; they are created under the general powers given by the state to local authorities to provide amenities to their residents within their council area. These are governed by general guidelines approved by the council and almost never deal with collection management issues such as deaccessioning. This is the subject of frequent concern. Collections owned by local government museums are not the property of the museum but are the property of the local council. They are thus subject to the vicissitudes of local politics: The attitude, understanding and support of the mayor and the general manager of the council are the key to the governance of the museum, irrespective of the desires of the committee apparently charged with the role. The museum and its collection are subject to the funding priorities of the council itself. In museums owned by local councils, no statute prevents deaccessioning and disposal of the collection, in whole or in part. The protection of, or danger to, the collection is political, not statutory.

Public archives usually have clear statutory authority for deaccessioning (or ‘reappraisal’ as it is commonly referred to in that sector.) See, for example, s 24 of the Archives Act 1983 (Cth).

24. Disposal, destruction etc. of Commonwealth records

(1) Subject to this Part, a person must not engage in conduct that results in:

(a) the destruction or other disposal of a Commonwealth record; or

(b) the transfer of the custody or ownership of a Commonwealth record; or

(c) damage to or alteration of a Commonwealth record.

Penalty: 20 penalty units.

(1A) For the purposes of an offence against subsection (1), strict liability applies to the physical element of circumstance of the offence, that the record is a Commonwealth record.

(2) Subsection (1) does not apply to anything done:

(a) as required by any law;

(b) with the permission of the Archives or in accordance with a practice or procedure approved by the Archives;

(c) in accordance with a normal administrative practice, other than a practice of a Department or authority of the Commonwealth of which the Archives has notified the Department or authority that it disapproves; or

(d) for the purpose of placing Commonwealth records that are not in the custody of the Commonwealth or of a Commonwealth institution in the custody of the Commonwealth or of a Commonwealth institution that is entitled to custody of the records.

In each jurisdiction there will be numerous statutes that impose or regulate the retention or disposal of records.[11] These are the starting point for identifying or defining appropriate deaccessioning and disposal procedures. Under that high level of authority there are usually cascading regulatory requirements.[12] For example, where a government directive (of whatever kind) requires that:

Records must be retained for as long as they are needed to meet business needs, the requirements of organisational accountability and community expectations. Those records deemed to be of continuing value need to be identified and retained in a useable form for the appropriate length of time.[13]

Then, as soon as the records no longer comply with that directive, they are likely to be suitable for disposal.[14]

It is for each public authority to devise a formal disposal schedule and have that approved by the State Archivist. It also must devise and implement its own process for reappraisal and disposal. Such a process will ensure that the disposal is restricted to records that are no longer required for business, accountability or cultural purposes, and that any such disposal will be legal, systematic and consistent.

Constitution

Some museums are established as independent corporate entitles using the structure of a company limited by guarantee. Such companies are subject to their governing constitution but these too, rarely refer to deaccessioning. Such constitutions rarely deal with matters of collection management. Where they do, these legal mandates are never as fulsome or as carefully articulated as codes of ethics.

Transactional documents

These are the documents that relate to the various transactions between the institution and its ‘clients’. These may include all forms of conditional deeds of gift, bequests and contracts. They also include all notes and correspondence that relate to the collection items.

Such documents may affect the museum’s right to deaccession. It is not uncommon for a benefactor to donate or bequest an item on the condition that it not be deaccessioned.[15]

Further, there is the question whether such documents should, themselves, be retained or disposed of. Where they provenance, describe, authenticate an item of collection material, they must be retained for as long as the institution considers the item important enough to retain.

Even if the item to which the documents relate is deaccessioned and disposed of, it may still be good practice to retain the relevant documentation – for what it then documents is not so much the item but the history of the collection.[16]

Codes of ethics

Codes of ethics are not law. They are not enforceable. They carry no sanctions. They are merely collective expressions of acceptable conduct within the profession, argued drafted (after extensive consultation and discussion) and developed by the museum profession itself. They are valuable because they are the reflection of collective experience. In the highly contentious area of deaccessioning, it would be an ill-advised decision that was not informed by such statements of appropriate governance and practice.

Internationally, codes of practice in relation to deaccessioning have common themes.

  • The museum has a long-term duty to the public to maintain the collection and the items within it. It must balance the duty of maintaining and enhancing collections for future generations with that of providing appropriate services to today’s public.[17]
  • The museum must have a clearly articulated accessioning policy so that deaccessioning is less likely to be needed and, if it is, by which deaccessioning decisions can be properly made.
  • The process by which collection items are selected for deaccessioning must ensure that all relevant issues are considered and that the decision is being made for appropriate reasons.
  • The persons responsible for making the recommendations and the decisions must be identified. The process must provide in-built safety mechanisms to ensure that such decisions are not the consequence of individual whim or ideology. The participation of an independent and expert third party in the decision-making process is valuable.
  • The decision must recognise the interests (legal and otherwise) of the people who made, used, owned, collected or gave the items that are considered for deaccessioning.
  • The reason for the deaccessioning should be fully argued and clearly recorded.
  • The process by which the decisions have been made must be fully and transparently documented.
  • The decision as to what is to be done with any money raised by the deaccessioning should be established before the deaccessioning is undertaken.
  • The method of disposal (whether by exchange, gift, private sale, public auction etc) should be appropriate.

The Museums Australia Code of Ethics choses not to deal with deaccessioning itself. Rather it focuses on the disposal of objects but is silent as to their deaccessioning.

In contrast, the Archive world is alive with discussion and guidance as to this process. It recognises that not everything can be kept and acknowledges that most of the material retained by archives will have a half-life. The value of a record will be assessed according to a complex set of criteria including ethical, legal, administrative, financial, research, social, historical and cultural requirements and expectations.

Some larger organisations have their own codes of ethics. In one infamous instance, a Victorian organisation that was facing funding issues, decided to deaccession and sell an important painting. Its code of ethics forbade deaccessioning so, on legal advice, its board voted to suspend the operation of the prohibition, passed the motion to deaccession the work, and then voted to restore the effectiveness of the code of ethics. The president of the organisation argued at a Museums Australia conference that this conduct was appropriate and legal. Perhaps it was legal.

Deaccessioning procedures

Collection management policy and the accessioning policy

Before you can devise a satisfactory deaccessioning policy you have to have an adequate accessioning policy as part of your collection management policy.[18] Quite simply, a good accessioning policy reduces the problems faced by museum administrators in allocating the limited resources available to the acquisition, maintenance, conservation, storage, security and exhibition of collection material. It also reduces the frequency with which the museum will need to face issues of deaccessioning and disposal and when deaccessioning is mooted, gives the staff a more clear understanding of why the object was accessioned in the first place. If the reason for accessioning the object is understood, the reasons given for deaccessioning will have to take these into account.

Deaccessioning procedures

While it is unquestionable that the museum must have the power to deaccession material from its collection, it is essential that sensible checks and balances be adopted to ensure that the exercise of those powers is both proper and well advised. To do this, each collection needs a detailed, considered, procedure to identify what material must be retained and what material should be deaccessioned.

Each institution must develop its own deaccessioning policies so that they fit the needs, nature and size of the institution and the collection. There is no one model that is right for all. That said, good deaccessioning policies have similar characteristics.

1. Can you prove you own it? The most basic requirement of deaccessioning is that the records prove ownership. One might say that it should never have been accessioned in the first place if ownership could not be proved – and they would be right. But there are several instances where an Australian collection has deaccessioned (and disposed of) material from its collection only to have someone claim that they or their forebear was the owner of it. Some of the earliest collection material is often the most lumpen in the collection and worthy of deaccessioning – but the quality of its acquisition documentation makes it difficult to do without risk.

2. Was any limitation on deaccessioning attached to the acquisition? Do the records reveal whether there are any legal restrictions on deaccessioning the material? For example, sometimes there are conditions of gift that will prevent this action.

3. Would the deaccession comply with the legislative obligations of the institution? Where the institution’s constitution or statute provides for deaccessioning, you must take care to comply fully with them. No ifs. No maybes.[19]

4. Who are the right decision makers? Does the procedure clearly identify those who are entrusted to make such appraisals? Are they sufficiently qualified, trained and experienced to undertake that responsibility?

5. Does the process protect against undue influence? The decision should not be the decision of one person. Not even the director. In a major collection it will usually involve the Senior Curator in charge of the relevant collection area, the Registrar, the Director and then the Board.

The Curator can make expert assessments as to the place of the material in the collection, the Registrar is able to inform the process as to any legal or administrative conditions or impediments relating to the material and the Director is responsible for supervising the over-all probity of the decision and assuring the Board that the deaccession is appropriate.[20]

It is important that all of the people who are in charge of the material and the decision, actually state their recommendation in writing. The procedure needs to make it clear to the Board that all of their key staff approve of the recommendation, not just the director.[21]

6. What consultation is necessary or desirable as part of the assessment process? If in doubt, the curator should always seek an outside opinion and that opinion should be made available to the other decision-makers.

7. What are the particular needs and practices of the sector? Different collection types will require different procedures.[22] Even where organisations are within the same general collection area (say, archives) the procedures will vary enormously depending upon the needs and expectations upon the individual types.[23]

8. Does the policy require the deaccessioning submission to make recommendations as to the appropriate mode of disposal? Good deaccessioning process requires a good disposal process and it is incumbent that those making the recommendation to the Board also give guidance as to the most appropriate way of removing the material from the collection and disposing of it. Outcry rarely occurs because of the deaccessioning itself: It arises at the time of disposal.

9. Does the policy allow for a period of reflection? Good deaccessioning policies provide an opportunity to reconsider. A cooling-off period. For example, the Museum of Applied Arts and Sciences provides for a two-year delay between the making of the deaccessioning decision and the actual deaccessioning.

10. Is there a formal process for that reflection? The reason for having a period of reflection is to protect the collection from improper or hasty decisions. It would be just administrative humbuggery if the staff had to wait say, two years merely to put into effect the decision already made. No. The cooling off period is only effective if, at the end of the period, the decision is re-evaluated. The policy should require this re-evaluation and should set out who is responsible for initiating it and supervising the task.[24] In large institutions this will be the Registrar. For example, at the Museum of Applied Arts and Sciences the policy states that:

The Registrar will be responsible for maintaining files relating to Notifications of Deaccessioning. At the end of the two year period, the Registrar will notify the relevant curator that the review of the decision is now required. The Registrar will alert the Curator to any use made of the object during the two year period which might affect the decision to deaccession, or the method of disposal of the object. If the decision to deaccession stands, the Registrar will amend all relevant records in relation to the object, and arrange for disposal of the object as indicated by the Board.

As useful as this is, I would suggest that it could be tightened by requiring the Curator reconsidering the decision to do so formally and send that decision up the line again to the Assistant Director and the Director – because they too may have cause to reconsider (but for different reasons to those of the curator or the director.)

11. Record the deaccessioning history of the collection. Whenever material is deaccessioned the collection register should be notated so that it is clear that the material has been deaccessioned and its current status recorded. It may have been deaccessioned from one collection and accessioned into another (say, the educational collection); or it may have been destroyed or exchanged. The file should reflect the history of the material while in the possession of the organisation. This information is part of the provenance of the material and part of the history of the collection. Accordingly the material should usually be photographed and all documentation retained, notwithstanding that Elvis has left the building.

It is not possible to set out a cookie-cutter deaccessioning process for all types of collection organisations. The Deaccessioning Policy of the National Gallery of Australia provides a useful example for art museums.

 NATIONAL GALLERY OF AUSTRALIA

DEACCESSION AND REMOVAL OF WORKS OF ART POLICY

Endorsed by Council 30 April 2008

1. Introduction

 Central to the aims of the National Gallery of Australia as prescribed in the National Gallery Act 1975 is the development and maintenance of a national collection of works of art. As part of this collection development activity, the Gallery from time to time, needs to refine its collection through a process of deaccession and removal of works of art that for various reasons no longer positively contribute to the quality of the collection. A decision to deaccession a work of art from the collection requires Curatorial, Directorial, Council and Ministerial approval. In deaccessioning any item, the Gallery needs to proceed with great care and consideration to avoid any undue public concern and importantly avoid adverse reaction to current and future benefaction.

The policy provides the rationale, authority, process and criteria for the deaccession and removal of a work of art from the national art collection. It is distinct from the Gallery’s Write-off and Disposal of Assets Policy which relates to non-work of art assets belonging to the Gallery.

2. Authority

2.1 The Gallery’s powers to remove a work of art are expressly set out in the Act. The main provisions are contained in section 9 of the Act which deals with disposal by means of sale, gift or destruction and section 10 of the Act which enables the Gallery to arrange for the exchange of a work.

2.2 Section 9 of the Act provides that where the Council of the Gallery is satisfied that a work of art:

(a) is unfit for the national collection; or

(b) is not required as part of the national collection

it may resolve that the work be disposed of by sale, gift or destruction provided that in the case of a gift or destruction the Council is satisfied that the work has no saleable value. Where the Council resolves to dispose of a work it must then seek the approval of the Minister to that removal. If the Minister gives approval the Gallery may arrange for the disposal to take place

3. Principles and Parameters of Deaccession and Removal

3.1 Deaccession will only take place with the overall objective of improving the collection or pursuant to paragraph 4.1.8.

3.2 Deaccession will not take place in response to current trends or on the basis of personal taste.

3.3 Deaccession of work which was the subject of a gift or bequest to the Gallery will not be disposed of except as provided in 5.2.

3.4 The Gallery will not dispose of a work by a living artist except with the written permission of the artist.

3.5 A work that has been acquired for the collection with a restriction that it be retained for a certain period of time will not be disposed of while the restriction continues.

3.6 Removal of the work will be undertaken in an accountable process such as public auction or tender, transfer to another institution, gift or by destruction where the removal is required pursuant to paragraph 4.1.8 and the work has no saleable value.

3.7 In the case of a transfer of a work, regard will be given to other Commonwealth collecting agencies where appropriate.

3.8 Funds received from the disposal of a work must be used for the acquisition of works for the same area of the collection or such other area of the collection as the Council may approve on the recommendation of the Director and relevant curatorial staff.

3.9 Where possible and relevant, the name of the donor or the fund from which the work was originally acquired is to be credited to a new acquisition.

3.10 Full documentation on the work will remain with the Gallery.

3.11 The Gallery will provide full disclosure in the Gallery’s annual report.

4. Criteria for Deaccession and Removal

4.1 When considering a work for deaccession the Council will have regard, amongst other things, to whether the work falls within any of the following categories:

4.1.1 A work, the significance or aesthetic merits of which falls below the general level of the collection.

4.1.2 A work which lowers the overall level of quality or representation of an artist or any area in the collection.

4.1.3 A work where a more superior example has been acquired.

4.1.4 A work which has deteriorated to such an extent that it is no longer exhibitable and is beyond restoration to an acceptable standard.

4.1.5 A work which has been found to have been falsely documented, described or attributed, or to be a forgery.

4.1.6 A work which is duplicated in the collection where duplication serves no scholarly or educational purpose. A duplicate means a work produced as a multiple or in an edition, for example a work struck from the same die or printed from the same block or plate.

4.1.7 A work which is no longer representative of the collection, as characterised in the Gallery’s Acquisition Policy at the time of disposal.

4.1.8 A work which presents a risk to staff, the public or to other works.

5. Donated work or a work by a living artist

5.1 The Gallery will not dispose of a work by a living artist except with the written permission of the artist.

5.2 Having regard to any conditions or trusts attaching to gifts or bequests the Gallery will not dispose of a work falling outside the Gallery’s Acquisition Policy without first obtaining the consent of the donor, the relevant trustee or the personal representatives of the donor’s estate save that if, despite every reasonable effort having been made, the Gallery is unable to locate the donor, trustee or personal representative then, it may dispose of the work in accordance with sections 9 or 10 of the Act.

6. Procedures leading to disposal

6.1 A report by the relevant curatorial staff, recommendation by the Director is to be submitted to Council stating the reasons for the proposed removal of the work from the collection, the context of the work within the collection and the effect its removal would have. The report should include an estimate of the current market value of the work with, where ever possible, documentary verification. The report should satisfy the Council that:

6.1.1 In the case of gifts and bequests every reasonable effort should be made to locate the donor, trustee or personal representatives in accordance with 5.2.

6.1.2 There is no legal restriction on the deaccession and removal of the work.

6.1.3 Consideration has been given to the implications of disposing of a work given to the Gallery.

6.2 A period of not less than six months should be allowed to elapse following the Council’s approval in principle of the recommendation and the Council’s final resolution to remove the work. Exceptions would only relate to objects that posed a danger to humans or other works of art.

6.3 Subsequent to the Council’s resolution to dispose of a work after the six month setting aside period, Council will seek the approval of the Minister to the proposed removal.

6.4 Following the Minister’s approval to the deaccession of the work, or, in the case of an exchange, following the Council’s resolution to exchange the work, the acquisition records relating to the work will be marked accordingly.

6.5 The acquisition number will not be reassigned to another work and the IRN (Internal Record Number) for the work held on the Collection Management System will be marked as deaccessioned, not for publication on the internet and not retired.

6.6 Section 10 of the Act provides that where the Council is satisfied that the exchange of a work of art in the national collection for another work of art would be advantageous to the collection then the Gallery may make the exchange.

6.7 Catalogue and other records of the work will reflect that the work has been deaccessioned and removed. In all cases except of a gift or exchange with a public museum, the Gallery will retain all original documentary material concerning the work including photographs and appraisals. In the case of a gift or exchange with a public museum the original documentation will be transferred to the museum with the Gallery retaining copies.

7. Removal

7.1 Following the Minister’s approval to remove a work by way of sale the work may be offered for sale by public auction or tender.

7.2 Where the Gallery has decided to gift or exchange a work in accordance with section 10 of the Act the agreement for exchange may include payment of a sum of money in recognition of the difference in value between the works exchanged.

7.3 Where the provisions of 4.1.4 apply the Council may, subject to obtaining the Minister’s approval for removal under section 9 of the Act, remove the work to the Gallery’s Conservation Department for practical testing or research purposes.

7.4 Where the provisions of 4.1.5 apply any removal must take into account the protection of the public interest as well as the interest of the Gallery.

7.5 Depending on circumstances surrounding the acquisition of the work consideration may be given to:

7.5.1 rescission of any purchase order

7.5.2 sale by public auction or tender with full disclosure.

8. Ethics, Confidentiality and Disclosure

8.1 Reflecting the Gallery’s ethical standards under no circumstances should a work be purchased by or have its ownership transferred to any member of the Council or the Gallery staff, or members of the immediate family of any of those people.

8.2 Neither Gallery staff nor members of Council shall inform any non-essential third parties that a decision has been made to remove a particular work or the manner by which the work is to be disposed. Such information must be kept confidential to the Gallery.

8.3 Where appropriate the Council may require any person assisting with the sale of a work to keep the provenance confidential subject to the Director’s discretion.

8.4 Details of the disposal will be reported promptly to the Council and be included in the Gallery’s Annual Report.

9. Interpretation

9.1 In this Policy:

a reference to a ‘work’ is a reference to one or more art objects or a work of art in the national collection;

a reference to ‘the collection’ is a reference to the national collection; and

a reference to ‘the Act’ is a reference to the National Gallery Act 1975.

The following is an example of a Submission Form that will provide comprehensive information on which to base a deaccession decision for an art museum:

NATIONAL GALLERY OF AUSTRALIA

Council Meeting [date]____

Submission for Deaccession

 

Artist or culture:

Title / date:

Medium / size:

Donor/Vendor:

Valuation when acquired:

Current market value:

Curator’s report [250 words]

Curator: name, title

Date:

Assistant Director, Australian / International Art recommendation:

Date:

Director’s recommendation:

Director

Date:

File no:

National Gallery of Australia Council Meeting [date]____

Submission for Deaccession

 

Curator: name, title

File number:

Submission for Deaccession

Artist or culture:

Title / date:

Medium / size:

 

1. ACQUISITION DETAILS:

Date acquired:

If the work was a donation or bequest are there any restrictions attached to the work?

 

If the work was a donation is the donor still alive?

If not, have other surviving members of the family been contacted to ascertain that they have expressed no objection to the disposal

 

If the work was purchased, state the specific fund used and the price paid for the work

Provenance

2. Condition of the work:

When was it last exhibited:

Exhibitions and references in standard texts:

3. Does the work have future value as a loan, as part of a study collection, or for research purposes?

4. How well is this type of work represented in the collection?

Similar works in Australian public and private collections?

5. Reasons for deaccessioning and disposal?

Expert opinions sought or volunteered?

Proposed methods of disposal [in order of priority]

6. Outline any legal restrictions that would limit the Gallery’s right to dispose of the work

PREPARED BY: DATE:

 

 

………………………………… ……………………….

(Curator)

I certify that the deaccessioning and disposal of …………………. would be in accordance with the Disposal Policy of the National Gallery of Australia.

 

CERTIFIED BY: DATE

………………………………… ………………………


[1]By removal from the collection register, catalogue or database that details what material is in the collection.

[2] It’s another version of, ‘all cows are four-legged animals; not all four-legged animals are cows’.

[3] See discussion of the presumption of permanence at chapter 8.1.

[4] It is interesting to note that deaccessioning is a central element in most of the European and British controversies in concerning repatriation of cultural material. In those jurisdictions the material held in the public institutions is actually owned by the State and it is not within the power of the collecting institution to deaccession any of its collection unless it is legislatively empowered to do so. It is not a matter for the discretion of the institution.

[5] No, not THAT constitution!

[6] For example, if the deceased said in her will: ‘I give my Grecian urn to the Australian Museum. They should never sell it as it has been precious to my family for many generations.’ The gift made in the first sentence is simple and complete. The second sentence is only an unenforceable request. It has moral or ethical weight but is not legally binding.

[7] (2004) January Museums Journal 41.

[8] (2007) 185 (November), The Art Newspaper 19.

[9] For example at the same time that the Association changed its ethical guidelines, Fisk University in Nashville was dabbling its toes in this troubled brook. Georgia O’Keefe donated a 101 piece collection of art and photography to the financially strapped Fisk University. Alice Walton (the Wal-Mart heiress) has offered $30 million for a 50% interest in the O’Keefe collection. If approved, the collection would spend half its time at Fisk and half at the new museum of American art that Mrs Walton plans for Arkansas. Further, Mrs Walton would pay $1 million towards refurbishment of the museum, would appoint five members to the committee that oversees the collection and would have an option to purchase the Fisk’s remaining 50% should it ever decide to sell. At time of writing, the O’Keefe estate is seeking to stop the agreement, claiming that it contravenes O’Keefe’s instructions that the collection not be sold: (2007) 185 (November), The Art Newspaper.30.

[10] Except in the case of archives, such rules do not regulate the deaccessioning of collection material although they do affect the documentation relating to each collection item.

[11] For example in Queensland alone, these include: Public Records Act 2002; Public Service Act 1996; Electronic Transactions (Queensland) Act 2001; Judicial Review Act 1991; Freedom of Information Act 1997; Evidence Act 1977; Public Sector Industrial and Employee Relations Directives; Financial Management Standard 1997; Recordkeeping (IS40); Managing Technology-Dependent Records (IS41); ICT Maintenance and Disposal (IS19); and Information Privacy IS42 and IS42A.

[12] Many jurisdictions provide general guidelines to their statutory authorities and departments (for example, Qld: General Retention and Disposal Schedule for Administrative Records) but even then each government body designs its own practical reappraisal machinery.

[13] Qld, IS31.

[14] If the principles of retention are the positive, then the principles of deaccessioning and disposal are the negative.

[15] Of course that word is not usually used. It is more common for the condition to speak of ‘not sold’ or ‘not disposed of’.

[16] It can be important to the history of the collection to document how and why an item came into the collection, what happened to it while it was in the collection and, eventually, why it was deaccessioned and disposed of. At this stage, you are documenting the collection rather than individual items within it.

[17] 6.4, Code of Ethics for Museums, Museums Association UK, 2002.

[18] The collection management policy will include a written statement of the museum’s purposes and explains how those are furthered by the activities of the museum. The accessioning policy should really be just a part of the larger collection management policy.

[19] Refer to the example above of the National Gallery of Australia Act (Clth) that permits deaccessioning only for certain reasons and only provided that certain conditions are met.

[20] For example: ‘The Curator should submit a proposal for deaccessioning to the appropriate Assistant Director for approval. If approved, the Assistant Director should forward it to the Director. The proposal should provide catalogue information about the object and a statement about the object and a statement justifying the deaccessioning proposal.’ (Museum of Applied Arts and Sciences)

[21] Many of the USA examples of deaccessioning problems arose where the director exerted undue influence on the curatorial staff – or have failed to take into account their professional opinions. The Board needs full information.

[22] Art museums will require very different procedures from social history museums.

[23] For example where the archive is maintained within a government department, library, company, school or law firm.

[24] For example, ‘In order to safeguard against mistaken assessment of the future use of an object, a period of two (2) years should elapse between approval by the Board of Trustees of the deaccession and disposal of the object, at which time it would be reviewed by the Curator. The review of the Curator’s recommendation by the appropriate Assistant Director and the Director, guards against ill-considered or subjective decisions by one person.

 




spacer