What really determines a president's legacy?

This month, we’ve been thinking a lot about legacy. Specifically, presidential legacy: what defines it, how does it get shaped and recorded, and what happens when the evidence is at risk? 

We’ve been sitting with these questions as we’ve watched the back-and-forth at the President’s House site in Philadelphia, where NPS removed interpretative panels. Following objections from city and state officials, a judge ordered restoration. A win, but with a caveat: digital renderings of the proposed replacement panels de-emphasize George Washington’s role as an enslaver. 

For historians, this removes crucial complexity that’s important to understanding the multi-faceted nature of one of our nation’s founders. History is often complicated, and softening the record obscures history. 

This brings us to today. The current administration is actively shaping what it wants to be known for—while still in office, which is highly unusual for U.S. presidents. 

We've seen impeachment references and January 6 content disappear from Smithsonian panels, the historic East Wing demolished for a proposed ballroom, and the Kennedy Center get a new name. Just last month, architectural renderings were released for a 250-foot triumphal arch, with plans to draw partial funding from the National Endowment for the Humanities.

It’s not unusual for presidents to be remembered with a memorial, a monument, an exhibit—after they leave office. What's different now is that the legacy-building is happening in real time and at a scale we haven't seen before.

Which raises the question: who gets to determine a president’s legacy? 

As historians, archivists, and museum professionals, that question is at the heart of everything we do. We steward the evidence left behind so future generations can judge for themselves, which is why we must take note of what's happening to the law that protects that evidence.

That law is the Presidential Records Act. And right now, it’s under fire. 

WHAT’S HAPPENING IN THE FIELD 

The Presidential Records Act (PRA) was created in 1978 when Richard Nixon attempted to claim—and destroy—incriminating records related to his presidential tenure upon his resignation in 1974. The PRA established that presidential records belong to the public. When a term ends, they transfer to the National Archives. 

This is helpful context for what happened on April 1, 2026, in what was not an April Fool’s joke. 

On April 1, the Department of Justice issued a memorandum declaring the PRA unconstitutional. The memo argues that Congress overstepped its authority, and the records belong to the president personally, not the public. 

If that position holds, it could block public access to hundreds of millions of records and present serious risk to transparency and recordkeeping throughout the executive branch, including the National Archives. 

The American Historical Association (AHA), in collaboration with American Oversight, responded by filing an emergency lawsuit challenging the memo. Their position is clear: the public's right to these records isn't the president's to revoke. That’s what the law is for. 

These records are the evidence that historians, journalists, and the American public rely on to understand and evaluate a presidency. If they’re privatized, destroyed, or withheld, future generations lose the ability to assess what happened and what it meant. The American public deserves access to review and determine for themselves what history tells—and the legacy of this presidential administration.    

WHAT WE CAN DO 

It can feel like a lot of waiting, which is hard when it also feels like if we don't do something now, we risk losing everything. Here are a few places to start:

• Support the legal effort. The AHA and American Oversight are leading the lawsuit. This is a center of influence doing exactly what it's built for. We can help through membership, donations, and sharing their work. 
• Guerrilla archive—now. Document exhibits, signage, and digital content before it changes or disappears. Our blog has practical guidance on how to get started.
• Write your representatives. Op-eds, letters, and constituent contact still move the needle, especially when it comes to issues like defending the PRA.
• Stay engaged in your local politics. Primary election counts are in, and midterms are coming up this November. Double check your registration status and remember, your vote can help shape our shared legacy. 

CLOSING REFLECTIONS 

Presidential legacies get written through the records kept, the panels installed, and the documents preserved (or destroyed). Our field exists, in part, to make sure the record captures a complete picture so everyone can judge for themselves.

The PRA fight is a reminder that the infrastructure protecting that record needs people to defend it. Right now, it’s being defended by historians, lawyers, and people in institutions like yours.

For archivists and museum professionals, the work is never finished. As long as there are people, history gets made. 

We’ll leave you with this: the astronauts on the Artemis II mission trained for years before the mission was even a concept. They showed up and stayed focused on the work anyway. The result was something wonderful to witness. 

Our favorite moments: Carroll, the bright lunar crater named after crew lead Reid Wiseman's late wife. The first full-color images of the far side of the moon. The Sailor Moon homage. And yes, the Artemis cat plushies.

All a reminder that great things come from steady, committed work—even when you don’t know what the future holds. 

This blog post content was originally included in our community newsletter: The Moment -- where we respond quickly and thoughtfully to impactful events and decisions that challenge or disrupt our profession.