NatLib & Digital Preservation of Games
There is a glaring digital disconnect in software and game preservation at the National Library of New Zealand. While the library has a necessary duty to uphold copyright and protect rights holders from IP infringement, enforcing these protections too rigidly transforms rare material into lost media, cutting it off from modern society.
I’ve been planning a video covering several historical projects by TeraMedia (later Terabyte Interactive):
- Space Station Alpha: The Encounter (preserved online)
- Devil’s Canyon: A Dinamation Adventure (preserved online)
- International Rugby Hall of Fame
- Kiwi Kids ABC
- World of Whales
- New Zealand’s Journey Through Time: From Gondwanaland to Aotearoa
- TeraMedia CD-ROM Sampler
While all of these titles are physically preserved within the Alexander Turnbull Library Computer Collection, they are accessible only inside the library building in Wellington. Even then, “access” is strictly view-only: visitors cannot copy files, duplicate media, image discs for offsite study, or interact with the software after leaving. Under current rules, capturing footage requires explicit written permission to record the screen on-site or paying a third-party service to capture digital video.
Thankfully, Space Station Alpha and Devil’s Canyon have been preserved online by the community, but the remaining titles are effectively lost media to the wider world.
I respect the library’s need to restrict physical access to prevent damage or loss when only a single physical copy exists. However, physical storage in a climate-controlled vault is a ticking clock against disc rot, delamination, and bit rot. Storing a 30-year-old optical disc without making bit-for-bit raw images for remote, functional access doesn’t save the software—it just slows down its physical decay. If the optical media rots before it is properly imaged and tested, that piece of New Zealand’s digital history is gone forever.
Furthermore, software isn’t just a collection of static files—it’s an interactive execution stack. Viewing raw file directories on a locked terminal inside a reading room doesn’t preserve the artifact. Early 1990s titles built for Windows 3.1 or Windows 9x require legacy hardware or virtualized environments like 86Box, DOSBox-X, or VirtualBox to function as intended.
I am a strong advocate for digital preservation—the principle that software must be backed up, rendered executable, and made accessible so it survives even if physical media degrades or vanishes. Abandonware and orphan works—copyrighted items whose rights holders are defunct, untraceable, or deceased—are prime examples of this need. TeraMedia’s early output represents a foundational era of Aotearoa’s digital and edutainment history. As decades pass, older software loses commercial viability. It becomes a matter of historical preservation, nostalgia, and cultural heritage—allowing adults to revisit the titles of their youth and share them with the next generation.
New Zealand’s current copyright framework lags behind international precedents like the US Digital Millennium Copyright Act (DMCA) Section 1201 exemptions, which grant organizations like the Internet Archive explicit rights to bypass digital locks for software preservation and research. We need legal exceptions and copyright safe harbors in New Zealand for abandoned media. Protecting rights holders from infringement should not mean sentencing obsolete, non-commercial software to total obscurity. Modern copyright law must make room for digital preservation, granting public and educational access to abandonware for research, evaluation, and historical record before it disappears entirely.