I wonder what the standard is going to be going forward in terms of the responsibility that social media companies have to preserve and sort the data uploaded to their platforms. So much of our interactions happen on social media that it seems like it could be reasonable to support some sort of government subsidization of the costs of storing posts and media for history's sake.

It is always interesting to examine the cyclical effect of alienation resulting in further dissociation from public spaces and in tribalism, resulting in a perceived justification for initial alienation and so on.

The term "quality-controlled" raises potential concerns about the overall accuracy of what we are preserving, as quality is often subjective. Not to say that this subjective selective process doesn't already strongly exist in more traditional and current methods of data management, but when building towards ideal widespread digital solutions I think that it is important to minimize curation wherever possible for the sake of accuracy. No such luxury is ever free however, and accumulatively this would come at the cost of massive amounts of what could always feel like wasted storage space.

This is an interesting subject which is being brought more and more to the forefront of people's awareness as digital entertainment retailers make moves that highlight the shortcomings of online-only services, such as Sony having been recently accosted for revoking fully-paid digital movie licenses from customers who have no option to store their content locally.

Beyond even online movies and shows, video games are known to be one of the most difficult forms of media to preserve, as many of them are strongly dependent on not only working copies of the proprietary physical cartridges, but on the original system hardware that a game is designed to run on. Emulation of the systems using more standard PC hardware is a popular method of circumventing some of this trouble, however it is certainly not given any support or acknowledgement from large companies in the space itself, aside from sternly worded letters from lawyers to the volunteers that develop and upkeep these tools.

Though on the surface it may seem that having a multistage procedure that works in this order -eventually including all traditional steps of the peer review process- would work to alleviate the potential pitfalls of some of the newer more experimental "peer-to-peer" practices, it is likely worth noting that the traditional process in question taking place at the end of the line will limit what it is able to do based on what it is given.

It is possible that by injecting public interpersonal and subjective accountability into the mix so early in the process, the product may be limited by socially conformist pressures and suffer from ideological homogeneity before it is even eligible to be within reach of the finish line.

This is a danger in academic fields as, historically, common academic understandings have been reached by forging some synthesis of competing perspectives and theories on any given subject. This traditional system also results in occasional breakthroughs on each extreme respectively, due to more resources and research being allocable to valid, though potentially controversial or unpopular ideas. Widespread agreement on things is not necessarily as healthy for progress as it may seem.

I think that in moving forward with using both new processes and digital tools to enhance our academic efforts, we should be keen to remember that although the past is the past and the present feels like where we always will be, no field is or ever will be "final," and making any adjustments to our current processes that run the risk of leaving them even more beholden to contemporary and situational forces than they already are is not a decision that should be taken lightly. Mainstream senses of morality and goodness have historically proven time and again to be shockingly impermanent.