The Barack Obama Presidential Center opened in Chicago last week to great fanfare. Following years of construction, and with intense debate about how the project would affect the surrounding community, dignitaries gathered to celebrate the opening of the newest addition to the nation’s landscape of buildings honoring those who have occupied the Oval Office. The campus contains stunning views, beautiful art, and captivating displays. Tourists and school groups will certainly enjoy spending time on the grounds, learning about one of the most impactful leaders of recent history.
By most accounts, the center is impressive. The exhibits include honest assessments of Obama’s time in office and the animating vision seem to be of using the center to nurture the next generation of civic leaders.
But are these libraries—or centers in Obama’s case—being built and run in the right way? Over the decades, they have become the sources of intense controversy, often reinforcing the very political dysfunctions that frustrate Americans. At the same time, some of their basic functions are fading.
Unfortunately, despite the best of intentions and the historic nature of Obama’s presidency—not to mention his many accomplishments that reshaped the United States—the institution that has just opened puts some of the presidential library system’s worst problems on full display.
The modern presidential library system dates back to the mid-1950s. Before then, presidential papers were treated as the personal property to the former commanders in chief. Some were destroyed, while others, such as those of Presidents George Washington and Abraham Lincoln, were passed down and sold by their heirs. For instance, Lincoln’s son, Robert, took possession of his father’s papers before donating them to the Library of Congress. President Franklin D. Roosevelt set an important precedent when he transferred his papers to the National Archives. Roosevelt also built a museum with private funds on his family’s estate in Hyde Park, New York, then turned it over to the federal government in 1940.
The federal system came into being with the Presidential Libraries Act of 1955. The legislation, signed into law by President Dwight Einsehower, established a federal system of presidential libraries. The bill authorized Congress and the National Archives and Records Administration (NARA) to operate libraries that would serve as museums and hold archival records. Building construction would be financed through a mix of possible sources, including private donors, local governments, state governments, and universities.
Since the legislation passed, presidential libraries have opened across the country. Overlooking the Simi Valley, Ronald Reagan’s even houses the Air Force One plane he used. On any given day, the research rooms of these facilities are filled with historians, journalists, independent writers, and students poring over boxes filled with memos, letters, and other documents from each respective administration.
Despite the contributions these libraries have made to civic education, they have also faced serious problems.
From the start, access to archival material has been a persistent concern. These tensions reached a peak during the Nixon era, when the revelation of White House telephone and Oval Office recordings during the Watergate hearings raised fears that Nixon might destroy his own records. In 1974, Congress passed the Presidential Recordings and Materials Preservation Act, which empowered NARA to take control of Nixon’s records. Four years later, Congress enacted a much bolder law, the Presidential Records Act, requiring all presidents to preserve and transfer their records to the federal government, designating the material as public rather than private property. “Under the new law,” President Jimmy Carter said upon signing the bill, “all but the most personal of these papers will remain in the hands of the Federal Government after an administration leaves office.”
Even after 1978, historians remained frustrated in their efforts to obtain the documents that would, in Robert Caro’s words, allow them to “turn every page.” There were rumors that families and foundations made research easier for scholars who were sympathetic to the president and difficult for those who were not. Presidents could still delay access to documents related to certain types of information (like national security) for up to 12 years. The personal papers of influential advisors fell outside the requirements governing White House files and were therefore often inaccessible.
Foundations also used their influence to ensure that exhibits for the public only presented rosy depictions of a president’s tenure. NARA officials became an important countervailing force in these decisions, though they could have trouble influencing the debate given the financial muscle of the foundations.
Once again, Nixon became the center of controversy. When the Richard Nixon Presidential Library and Museum opened in 1990 in Yorba Linda, California, its Watergate exhibit described the scandal as a “coup.” The library opened as a private institution, operated by the Richard Nixon Foundation, since his materials were in the Washington area as a result of the 1974 legislation. Because of ongoing legal battles over Nixon’s presidential records, the library did not receive federal documents for several years.
By 2005, Congress had finally moved the records into the Nixon library. University of Virginia historian Timothy Naftali became, in 2007, the first federally appointed director of the museum. Naftali fought to create a more honest experience for visitors, and particularly focused his efforts on how the museum approached Watergate. “How could people believe that our archivists were providing unfettered access to documents if our museum were viewed as biased?” he asked.
Under Naftali’s direction, the museum unveiled a candid, historically grounded exhibit about the scandal. The involvement of the National Archives was essential to this effort. Naftali told the Atlantic, “We had to create a different culture, a nonpartisan culture. The beauty of having the National Archives involved was that you always had people pushing—sometimes gently, sometimes not so gently—to remind the foundation that the American people have the right to all the facts.” Nixon’s loyal supporters were not so happy. In 2011, Naftali stepped down.
Then there is the problem of money and politics. Even before presidents leave office, the contributions begin to roll in. Fundraising for presidential libraries has become a major enterprise, and large donors, often with vested interests in public policy, line up to give. The Presidential Libraries Act of 1986 worsened the situation by requiring the creation of endowments to support the libraries, in exchange for increased power over designing and operating the buildings by NARA.
The privately funded libraries created yet another avenue for private money to enter into the political system, and the disclosure rules governing these contributions remain remarkably opaque. When Bill Clinton was still in office, Denise Rich pledged $450,000 to Clinton’s library; hours before he left office, Clinton pardoned her ex-husband, Marc Rich, who had fled to Switzerland in 1983 after being charged with dozens of counts of fraud and tax evasion. Powerful individuals are hardly the only source of funding. According to reporting from NOTUS, Lockheed Martin and Palantir have supported the Ronald Reagan Presidential Library while AT&T has given to the John F. Kennedy and Obama libraries. President George W. Bush brought a new level of sophistication to the process by setting up a national finance committee to fundraise for his library in every state.
Now, Obama has added a new concern to the list. The Obama Center will not contain any archives and is not part of the presidential library system. The Obama Foundation will retain full control. National Archives staff will play almost no role in organizing the institution. This privatized structure built on a decision in 2022, when NARA reached an agreement to turn control over daily operations and curation of Bush’s library to the George W. Bush Foundation.
The connections between influence and fundraising are becoming apparent to former President Joe Biden, who is having trouble raising money for his foundation now that he is no longer in office and holds so little political sway. By contrast, President Donald Trump is already raising funds for a “library” that will come in at an estimated cost of $1 billion.
After an already controversial decision that the archival materials would only be accessible as digitized documents—despite the belief among many respected scholars that unfiltered, unedited access to physical records is essential for transparency and the kinds of discoveries that reshape historical understanding—the Obama records have fully entered the digital age. While there is some validity to the argument that digitization expands access, the Obama Center will not house any archival material at all. This strips away one of the fundamental functions of a presidential library. The Pulitzer Prize winning historian David Garrow, an Obama biographer, warned that “the absence of a true Obama presidential library will have the effect of discouraging serious and potentially critical research into the Obama presidency.”
Presidential libraries and museums are a remarkable national resource. I have spent a good part of my career working in these institutions, especially the Lyndon B. Johnson Presidential Museum and Library in Austin, Texas, where I have researched several of my books. Until the Obama Center, research rooms filled with historians and writers—working alongside talented archivists—produced major breakthroughs in how we understand our presidents. Greater access to material has usually led to more interesting accounts, and more interest, in all presidents (including Nixon). The museums, meanwhile, have become regular stops for travelers and offer a brief but meaningful civics lesson—something increasingly rare in our scrolling age.
Because these institutions are so important, the serious problems that have long existed must be confronted. While some Democratic members of Congress, such as Massachusetts Sen. Elizabeth Warren and Maryland Rep. Jamie Raskin, have tried to address issues like private donations, presidential libraries have usually remained outside the center of political debate. They are treated as secondary concerns, left to the domain of curators and archivists rather than recognized as national treasures that Congress must safeguard. Without stronger protections and insulation from political influence, the nation’s access to presidential history, and the democratic lessons these institutions provide, cannot be taken for granted.
Unfortunately, the center named after Obama, a leader with a deep appreciation for history and strong respect for the role of government in U.S. life, has created a model that further distances presidential centers from the mechanisms that ensure accountability, rigorous historical debate, and first-rate research.
While it is likely his very talented team will work hard to provide honest historical exhibits, the odds fall with regards to his successor. Trump’s Justice Department has already advanced the legal argument that the Presidential Records Act of 1978 is unconstitutional and that he should have full control over his material. Trump, who devotes much energy to controlling the narratives about him and about U.S. history, previewed some of his attitude after his first term, when he resisted demands by NARA to return classified documents to the government that he had stored in his Florida compound.
As a result, the shift in Chicago sets a dangerous precedent for the years ahead.
