The Unseen Theft of America's Literary History
lithub.com
lithub.com
The basic challenge for the thief is finding something valuable enough to be worth selling, but not so valuable it's obviously hot. Then make sure there are no records it existed (in this case it appears the catalog didn't include the letters) and find somebody trustworthy to sell it to.
I have to agree that the best approach would be to digitize as much as possible, but that might or might not be a tall order for the institutions in question.
From what it sounds like, the collection this guy was looting from was huge. I doubt the organization had such a generous budget that they could afford such a project.
UVA also has the papers of William Faulkner, so I learned quote a bit about him, too. Additionally, four original copies of the Declaration of Independence.
No, I didn't learn anything shocking, but I learned an awful lot about the history of the book, and archiving, and digitizing, and publishing. Terry Belanger (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Terry_Belanger), a MacArthur Fellow, was my mentor.
12¢ per letter, but then how do you "create and maintain an archival site"? You make a torrent and seed it. If each 12¢ page is 35 megapixels (A4/letter at 600dpi), then 8:1 JPEG-2000 compression should get you about half a megabyte per page. Half a megabyte of disk space is 0.0015¢. I pay about US$32 a month for my internet connection here in Argentina, and it can sustain about half a megabit per second, upstream, which is 164 gigabytes per month; so uploading that page to the swarm takes about 8 seconds and costs 0.01¢. You probably only have to do this once, but you might need to occasionally step in to resuscitate the swarm if all the other seeds die.
So, to sum up, this "very considerable expense in itself" costs 12¢ per letter to digitize, 0.0015¢ per letter to create, and 0.01¢ per letter to maintain an archival site.
You're right about the copyright questions, which could easily cost US$1000 (100,000¢) per letter. And that is the true unseen theft of the world's literary history.
The hyperbolic language indicates a strong emotional attachment, but it somewhat ironically compelled me to not care, and stop reading.
Items in archives are like fossils: remarkably rare, incredibly personal to the entity involved, but potentially of great import to the rest of us because of what we can learn from them.
I admit I'm a little tone-deaf and didn't notice any hyperbolic language, but I would encourage you to give the article another chance.
You might never have seen them, but you could very well have seen information from them. Personal letters are the primary texts which historians and literary critics draw from, the sources from which we build up an understanding of the past. Their loss means more than a few random pages being scattered to the wind--it means we've lost a bit of knowledge of our own history.