In the early days of the COVID-19 pandemic, researchers struggled to grasp the rate of the virus’s spread and the number of related deaths. While hospitals tracked cases and deaths within their walls, the broader picture of mortality across communities remained frustratingly incomplete.

Policymakers and researchers quickly discovered a troubling pattern: Many deaths linked to the virus were never officially counted. A study analyzing data from over 3,000 U.S. counties between March 2020 and August 2022 found nearly 163,000 excess deaths from natural causes that were missing from official mortality records.

Excess deaths, meaning those that exceed the number expected based on historical trends, serve as a key indicator of underreported deaths during health crises. Many of these uncounted deaths were later tied to COVID-19 through reviews of medical records, death certificates and statistical modeling.

In addition, lack of real-time tracking for medical interventions during those early days slowed vaccine development by delaying insights into which treatments worked and how people were responding to newly circulating variants.

Five years since the beginning of COVID-19, new epidemics such as bird flu are emerging worldwide, and researchers are still finding it difficult to access the data about people’s deaths that they need to develop lifesaving interventions.

How can the U.S. mortality data system improve? I’m a technology infrastructure researcher, and my team and I design policy and technical systems to reduce inefficiency in health care and government organizations. By analyzing the flow of mortality data in the U.S., we found several areas of the system that could use updating.

Critical need for real-time data

A death record includes key details beyond just the fact of death, such as the cause, contributing conditions, demographics, place of death and sometimes medical history. This information is crucial for researchers to be able to analyze trends, identify disparities and drive medical advances.

Approximately 2.8 million death records are added to the U.S. mortality data system each year. But in 2022 – the most recent official count available – when the world was still in the throes of the pandemic, 3,279,857 deaths were recorded in the federal system. Still, this figure is widely considered to be a major undercount of true excess deaths from COVID-19.

In addition, real-time tracking of COVID-19 mortality data was severely lacking. This process involves the continuous collection, analysis and reporting of deaths from hospitals, health agencies and government databases by integrating electronic health records, lab reports and public health surveillance systems. Ideally, it provides up-to-date insights for decision-making, but during the COVID-19 pandemic, these tracking systems lagged and failed to generate comprehensive data.

Without comprehensive data on prior COVID-19 infections, antibody responses and adverse events, researchers faced challenges designing clinical trials to predict how long immunity would last and optimize booster schedules.

Such data is essential in vaccine development because it helps identify who is most at risk, which variants and treatments affect survival rates, and how vaccines should be designed and distributed. And as part of the broader U.S. vital records system, mortality data is essential for medical research, including evaluating public health programs, identifying health disparities and monitoring disease.

At the heart of the problem is the inefficiency of government policy, particularly outdated public health reporting systems and slow data modernization efforts that hinder timely decision-making. These long-standing policies, such as reliance on paper-based death certificates and disjointed state-level reporting, have failed to keep pace with real-time data needs during crises such as COVID-19.

These policy shortcomings lead to delays in reporting and lack of coordination between hospital organizations, state government vital records offices and federal government agencies in collecting, standardizing and sharing death records.

History of US mortality data

The U.S. mortality data system has been cobbled together through a disparate patchwork of state and local governments, federal agencies and public health organizations over the course of more than a century and a half. It has been shaped by advances in public health, medical record-keeping and technology. From its inception to the present day, the mortality data system has been plagued by inconsistencies, inefficiencies and tensions between medical professionals, state governments and the federal government.

The first national efforts to track information about deaths began in the 1850s when the U.S. Census Bureau started collecting mortality data as part of the decennial census. However, these early efforts were inconsistent, as death registration was largely voluntary and varied widely across states.

In the early 20th century, the establishment of the National Vital Statistics System brought greater standardization to mortality data. For example, the system required all U.S. states and territories to standardize their death certificate format. It also consolidated mortality data at the federal level, whereas mortality data was previously stored at the state level.

However, state and federal reporting remained fragmented. For example, states had no unifom timeline for submitting mortality data, resulting in some states taking months or even years to finalize and release death records. Local or state-level paperwork processing practices also remained varied and at times contradictory.

To begin to close gaps in reporting timelines to aid medical researchers, in 1981 the National Center for Health Statistics – a division of the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention – introduced the National Death Index. This is a centralized database of death records collected from state vital statistics offices, making it easier to access death data for health and medical research. The system was originally paper-based, with the aim of allowing researchers to track the deaths of study participants without navigating complex bureaucracies.

As time has passed, the National Death Index and state databases have become increasingly digital. The rise of electronic death registration systems in recent decades has improved processing speed when it comes to researchers accessing mortality data from the National Death Index. However, while the index has solved some issues related to gaps between state and federal data, other issues, such as high fees and inconsistency in state reporting times, still plague it.

Accessing the data that matters most

With the Trump administration’s increasing removal of CDC public health datasets, it is unclear whether policy reform for mortality data will be addressed anytime soon.

Experts fear that the removal of CDC datasets has now set precedent for the Trump administration to cross further lines in its attempts to influence the research and data published by the CDC. The longer-term impact of the current administration’s public health policy on mortality data and disease response are not yet clear.

What is clear is that five years since COVID-19, the U.S. mortality tracking system remains unequipped to meet emerging public health crises. Without addressing these challenges, the U.S. may not be able to respond quickly enough to public health crises threatening American lives.

Dylan Thomas Doyle, Ph.D. Candidate in Information Science, University of Colorado Boulder

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

Some of the United States’ most important historical documents, including the Declaration of Independence, the Constitution, the Bill of Rights and the Emancipation Proclamation, are housed in the U.S. National Archives. Beyond these high-profile items, it also preserves lesser-known but no less vital records, such as national park master plans, polar exploration documents and the records of all U.S. veterans. Together, these materials stand as a testament to the country’s commitment to preserving its history.

While these crucial documents in U.S. history now have a home in the National Archives, the road to establishing this institution was paved with catastrophic losses and bureaucratic inertia.

Creating the National Archives required decades of advocacy by historians, politicians and government officials. The National Archives was not simply an administrative convenience – it was a necessity born from repeated disasters that underscored the fragility of government records. And with President Donald Trump’s firing of the head archivist in February 2025, as well as the loss of several high-level archives staff members, the organization faces a new era of uncertainty.

Documentary heritage – the recorded memory of a nation that preserves its cultural, historical and legal legacy – is essential for a country as it safeguards its identity, informs its governance and ensures that future generations can understand and learn from the past.

I am a university archivist with two decades of experience in the library and archives field. I oversee the preservation and accessibility of historical records at Rochester Institute of Technology, advocate for inclusivity, and engage in national conversations on the evolving role of archives in the digital age.

Understanding the precarious nature of historical records, it’s clear to me that maintaining, staffing and funding the National Archives is a necessary safeguard against the destruction of the nation’s documentary heritage.

Destroyed by fire

The idea of preserving the government’s records dates back to the country’s founding. Charles Thomson, secretary of the Continental Congress during the American Revolution and then secretary of Congress under the Articles of Confederation, recognized the need for proper storage of the Congress’ records.

But the young nation lacked the money and infrastructure to act. Many of the Continental Congress’ records were kept by Thomson himself for years, and while some were later transferred to the Department of State, others were lost.

Throughout the 19th and early 20th centuries, fires repeatedly ravaged federal records. Fires were very common in the 19th century due to a combination of highly flammable building materials, open frames used for lighting and heating, and the lack of modern fire safety measures such as sprinklers and fire-resistant construction.

In 1800, a blaze destroyed the War Department’s archives, a loss that severely hampered government operations. In 1810, Congress authorized better housing for government records, but the law was never fully executed. Instead, different parts of the government, from the Department of State to the Department of Treasury, continued maintaining their own records.

The Treasury Department suffered fires in 1801 and again in 1833, further erasing crucial financial records. The Patent Office, home to invaluable documentation of American innovation, burned in 1877, having already been damaged by an 1836 fire.

One of the most devastating losses occurred in 1921 when a fire at the Department of Commerce destroyed nearly all records from the 1890 federal census. This loss had far-reaching consequences, particularly for genealogical and demographic research.

Fires weren’t the only threat to the government’s records.

“It is a matter of common report that during the civil war, great quantities of documents stored in the Capitol were thrown away to make quarters for soldiers,” Historian and founding member of the American Historical Association J. Franklin Jameson noted in a 1911 Washington Post article.

“At a later date,” he added, “the archives of the House of Representatives were systematically looted for papers having a market value because of their autographs.”

Jameson spent decades lobbying Congress for a centralized repository. His persistence, coupled with the advocacy of key officials, laid the groundwork for future action.

These repeated disasters illuminated a glaring issue: The federal government lacked a centralized, protected repository to safeguard its records.

Finding a home

Momentum for a dedicated archives building gained traction in the late 19th century. In 1903, a bipartisan bill passed Congress giving the OK to purchase land in Washington, D.C., for a Hall of Records.

But the legislation didn’t lead to any action. Government records remained scattered, vulnerable and neglected. That same year, Congress authorized that any records not needed for daily business be transferred to the Library of Congress.

In 1912, President William H. Taft issued executive order 1499, aptly named Disposal of Useless Papers, requiring agencies to consult the librarian of Congress before disposing of documents.

This established a formal review process for government document disposal, but agencies still discarded records, often haphazardly, until stricter records management laws were enacted.

In 1926, Congress passed the Public Buildings Act, authorizing construction of an archives facility in Washington, D.C. Departing president Herbert Hoover laid the cornerstone of the new building on Feb. 20, 1933. He then deposited facsimiles of the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution, an American flag and daily newspapers from that day underneath the cornerstone.

Growth and standardization

President Franklin D. Roosevelt, who took office two weeks later, was himself a meticulous record-keeper. He understood the importance of historical preservation. Roosevelt kept all of his personal and presidential records and books in a fire-safe space he built on his Hyde Park, New York, property, which he donated to the government after he died. This building and the materials inside became part of the National Archives as the first U.S. presidential library.

The National Archives, an independent agency, was officially established under Roosevelt in the 1934 National Archives Act. The head archivist was to be appointed by the president. The first archivist, Robert D.W. Connor, took office that year with a mandate to organize, preserve and make accessible the nation’s records.

Initially, the National Archives was simply a building – an impressive neoclassical structure in Washington, D.C., that opened in 1935. The very first records deposited there came from three World War I-era regulatory agencies – the U.S. Food Administration, the Sugar Equalization Board and the U.S. Grain Corporation.

Initially, the Archives lacked a formalized records management program. There were no clear guidelines on what to keep and what to discard, so agencies made their own decisions. This led to inconsistent preservation.

The creation of the first federal records administration program in 1941, together with the 1943 Records Disposal Act, codified things. These policies granted the National Archives authority to establish a structured approach to determining which records held historical value and should be preserved, while allowing for the responsible disposal of other documents.

A 1950 law gave the National Archives more power to decide what should be kept and what could be discarded, creating a more organized and accountable system for preserving the nation’s history.

As the volume of records increased and their formats changed, the archives adapted. By 2014, amendments to the Federal Records Act explicitly included electronic records, recognizing the shift toward digital documentation.

Ensuring accountability

Beyond mere storage, the National Archives plays a vital role in upholding democracy.

It ensures transparency by preserving government accountability, preventing manipulation or loss of records that could distort historical truth. The National Archives also provides public access to documents that shape civic awareness and historical knowledge, from the Declaration of Independence to declassified government files.

In an era of digital misinformation and contested narratives, the National Archives stands as a guardian of primary sources. Its existence reminds the nation that history is not a matter of convenience, but a cornerstone of informed governance.

Elizabeth Call, University Archivist, RIT Libraries and Archives, Rochester Institute of Technology

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.