## Notes from 13 June 2025 [[2025-06-12|← Previous note]] ┃ [[2025-06-14|Next note →]] This week, I [came across](https://www.linkedin.com/posts/activity-7336759618225774593-iSFr/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=member_ios&rcm=ACoAABJfvIUBLMnEUSA-EbpMEBKTnb3K9do__SQ) the launch of the [[U.S. Digital Service (USDS)]] [Origins oral history project](https://usdigitalserviceorigins.org/). The project documents the early years of USDS through nearly 50 interviews. The aim is to capture the messy and complicated behind-the-scenes events that don't usually feature in official timelines or press releases. It struck me as a valuable contribution not because the public sector lacks interest in how decisions are made, quite the opposite. Public administration is full of attention to procedures, political dynamics, institutional arrangements. But that information is usually preserved in fragments: news coverage, legal documents, formal records. What we often lack are narratives - told in human language, through memory, reflection, and conversation - that connect the facts to the lived experience of those involved. That’s why I’ve always found oral history projects particularly valuable. They don’t replace documentation or analysis, but they add something different: perspective. And for those trying to understand the story of a reform, a crisis, or a program (not just the “what,” but the “how” and “why”) they offer a form of knowledge that’s hard to reconstruct after the fact. One of the most interesting initiatives I’ve come across in this regard is the **[Cape Town Drought Response Learning Initiative](https://www.drought-response-learning-initiative.org)**. After the major water crisis in Cape Town (2017–2018), a small team set out to document what happened. They conducted 39 long-form interviews with key actors (public officials, civil society leaders, journalists) and organized the material into 56 short learning videos. There was no attempt to create a single narrative or assess performance. The goal was simply to capture different perspectives and decisions while memory was still fresh. Today, these materials are an important resource for people working on urban resilience, water governance, and crisis management. But more broadly, I think they offer a model for how governments (and those around them) can start treating institutional memory as a public good.