Why OOXML-Based Suites Handle ODF Badly

The question arises naturally for anyone who chooses the standard format over the proprietary one: why do office suites that use OOXML as their native format handle ODF in ways that range from poor to appalling?

The two most obvious answers are these: vendors have neglected the format, treating it as an afterthought, or they are quietly working to discredit the very idea of transparent interoperability, through support so bad that it demonstrates the format “does not work”.

Both answers are too simplistic. The reality is that three distinct mechanisms are at work, applying to different vendors in different proportions and ultimately converging on the same outcome.

A challenge that is not a challenge

Reading and writing ODF faithfully, in isolation, is genuinely feasible: the format is completely and openly specified, and there is no equivalent of OOXML’s notorious legacy compatibility flags, which refer to undocumented behaviours of old Microsoft products that only Microsoft can reproduce.

A competent development team is able to implement ODF correctly on the basis of the ODF specification alone.

An office suite, however, does not implement a format in isolation: it has an internal, in-memory representation of the document. Loading a document is a mapping into that representation, and saving a document is a mapping out of it.

Fidelity is greatest when the internal model is congruent with the document format. LibreOffice’s model is essentially ODF, which is why, in this context, ODF is genuinely native.

When a suite’s internal model has the shape of OOXML, ODF stops being native and becomes an external import that must be converted to and from a representation built for a different format.

Take an ODF feature that OOXML lacks: the ODP field that displays the total number of slides. The instructive part is that the information itself is not missing from a PPTX file. The package enumerates every slide, and the count is available to any program that opens it. What OOXML provides no way to express is the statement that this number is the total. There is a field for the current slide number and none for the count, and Microsoft’s own guidance is to type the figure into a text box and keep it up to date by hand, which is a precise description of not having a field at all. Every published workaround is a macro or an add-in that computes the number once and writes it out as fixed text.

So when an ODP file carrying that field is opened in an OOXML-based editor, what is lost is not the data but the instruction. The number survives. The fact that it was calculated does not, and from that moment the document no longer knows how long it is.

The reverse direction fails more quietly, and therefore worse. A slide count exported from Impress to PPTX has to be written out as fixed text, so the presentation is correct on the day it is converted and wrong the first time a slide is added or removed. A number that has stopped being calculated but still looks plausible is more damaging than a visible gap, because nothing in the document signals that it needs checking.

An ODF-based editor handles the reverse case in an entirely different way. When it encounters a feature present in one format and absent from the other, it sets the data aside rather than discarding it, and restores it when the document returns to OOXML. In LibreOffice this mechanism has a name, the grab bag, and it is a documented part of the import filters rather than an incidental behaviour.

The difference does not lie in the quality of the import filter, but in the fact that the architecture was designed to hold the meaning of the other format.

This matters, because it means that poor ODF support in OOXML-based suites is largely overdetermined before the question of motive even arises. The difficulty is not absolute, but relative to the architecture the vendor has chosen.

Three mechanisms

First: the bet on a reference format. Some suites do not consider ODF at all, because they have built their value proposition on the other format.

OnlyOffice is the clearest case, because it was built around OOXML and converts every other format into that model, so ODF is a second-class import and export format by design.

WPS Office is software created to open docx, xlsx and pptx files faithfully. Its ODF functionality derives from the add-in of Microsoft’s own OpenXML project and was integrated into the application only in May 2022, as a conversion layer written for ODF 1.1, which is to say for the 2007 revision of the standard. Fifteen years of delay were built in on the day of release.

Google Workspace is a variant of the same logic rather than an exception to it. Its internal model is neither ODF nor OOXML but a proprietary web representation, and both formats reach it through a conversion layer. For a public administration the consequence is identical: the open standard is an export target, not the substrate the software thinks in.

For these vendors, ODF was never part of the strategy. Their proposition is to open Microsoft documents in something other than Microsoft Office, and to make them look right, so poor ODF support is the direct consequence of the strategy.

Second: deliberate underinvestment. This is probably a cause that cuts across the whole office suite sector. Although ODF is easier and cheaper to implement correctly, the process still involves development, quality assurance and maintenance costs and timelines, in order to keep pace with a continuously evolving standard.

If a vendor’s users mostly exchange docx files, the marginal commercial value of excellent ODF support is close to zero, so ODF is first implemented at the minimum level and then quietly left to rot.

The perception that ODF support does not matter is itself a consequence of a single company’s market dominance, and its effect is twofold. Lock-in becomes a software feature that the market regards as entirely normal, and ODF acquires a reputation for fragility that no deliberate campaign was required to produce.

Third: deliberate disqualification. This mechanism is real, and it concerns Microsoft itself, with Service Pack 2 for Office 2007. The ODF support it shipped failed in two opposite directions at once.

When reading an ODF spreadsheet produced by another application, Excel silently stripped out the formulas and kept only the last value each cell had held, reducing the document, in Rob Weir’s assessment at the time, to a mere “table of numbers” with the calculation logic gone. When writing, Excel placed formulas in an Excel namespace that was neither the one used by OpenOffice and the other ODF applications nor the OOXML one. Applications that checked the namespace rejected the document outright; those that did not check it displayed a corrupted file showing neither the formula nor the value correctly.

This is a textbook mechanism for discrediting interoperability: meeting a format requirement with an implementation that conforms only on paper and produces visibly broken files, demonstrating to every observer that ODF does not actually work.

At the time, Microsoft argued that the ODF standard did not define spreadsheet formulas, which arrived only with ODF 1.2, and that there was therefore no reference to follow. The argument does not survive Microsoft’s own reply. Responding publicly to Weir, Microsoft’s evangelist Doug Mahugh set the two behaviours side by side: faced with the same unrecognised formula syntax, IBM Lotus Symphony preserved the formula markup, while Excel preserved the cached values. Neither application had a specification to follow. Only one had an architecture with somewhere to put what it did not understand.

It is worth noting what Excel kept. Not the formula, but its last result, which is the same reduction we saw with the slide count, in a different application. A model shaped by OOXML retains the value and loses the computation that produced it, and a document reduced to its last results is a document that has stopped being able to correct itself.

That episode is seventeen years old, and it would be easy to set it aside as history. Microsoft Office today declares support for ODF 1.4. But what improved is the nominal conformance, not the architecture. The internal model is still OOXML, and every ODF document that passes through it is still a translation.

The synthesis

Poor ODF support is not a technical verdict on the format, but the visible shape of a market organised around the dominance of a single vendor, and that shape did not come about by chance.

For European public administrations, this redefines the practical question, because the interoperability problems they encounter when they try to migrate to the open standard ODF are not caused by ODF, which is entirely ready. They are evidence that most of the available tools were designed to be native to somebody else’s format, and that the one vendor with the power to change this situation has repeatedly chosen not to.

The precarious state of ODF support in the market is not a reason to hesitate over adopting the standard, but the strongest possible reason to mandate it, and to mandate it precisely.

The question that protects a public body’s documents, and its sovereignty over them, is not whether ODF is supported, but whether that support is native, that is, whether the software’s own internal model is the open standard, or the standard is merely a foreign element inside an engine built for something else.

The document format is the substrate of administrative continuity and public memory. Choosing tools for which the open standard is native is not a preference between equivalent options, but the difference between owning your documents and renting access to them from whoever controls the format in which they are actually written.

LibreOffice, yours for a lifetime

On 13 October 2026, Microsoft ends support for Office 2021. No more security updates, no more fixes, no more assurances. The software will still launch. It will still open your files. But from that date it becomes a liability rather than an asset — and the only sanctioned path forward runs through a subscription.

This is not a bug in the model. It is the model.

Support that does not expire

LibreOffice has no end-of-support date, because there is no vendor with the power to declare one. The code is public. The development is community-driven and foundation-governed. When a release cycle closes, the next one is already available, free, to everyone — not to those who renewed.

The distinction matters more than it appears. Microsoft’s lifecycle policy is a commercial instrument: the date is chosen, not discovered. It marks the moment when continuing to use software you paid for becomes unwise, and it exists to convert perpetual licences into recurring revenue. LibreOffice cannot issue such a date because no one holds the authority to issue it.

Ownership of documents, not just access to them

A support deadline is the visible layer. Underneath it sits something more consequential: the format your documents are written in.

LibreOffice uses the OpenDocument Format (ODF), an ISO standard maintained by OASIS and implemented by multiple independent applications. The specification is public, complete, and readable. Anyone can write software that opens an ODF file correctly — today, or in forty years, using tools that have not yet been written.

OOXML, despite carrying an ISO number, is not comparable in practice. The standard that was approved and the format that Microsoft Office actually writes have diverged. Independent implementations remain approximations. This is why round-tripping a complex document between suites degrades it, and why the degradation is always the fault of the software that did not write the format in the first place.

The consequence is simple. If your archive is in OOXML, your ability to read it depends on a commercial relationship with a single company continuing indefinitely. If your archive is in ODF, it does not.

Documents are software

A modern document is not a page. It is a structured artefact: markup, style definitions, embedded objects, references to fonts, scripts, conditional logic, external data. It is executed by an application in exactly the way a program is executed by a runtime.

We accepted decades ago that critical software should not be built on formats and interfaces controlled by a single vendor. Documents have escaped that scrutiny only because they look like paper. They are not paper. The same argument that makes open standards essential for software makes them essential for the files that record contracts, medical histories, legislation, research, and institutional memory.

Costs that stop compounding

The licence saving is real but it is the least interesting part of the calculation. What changes structurally is the removal of a recurring, unilaterally repriceable line item from the budget — one that has risen repeatedly and will rise again, because the customer has no alternative to negotiate with.

Migration has costs. Training, template conversion, macro rewrites, integration work. These are one-off and quantifiable. Subscription is perpetual and is not.

Independence from the deployment model

Support deadlines are increasingly used to move users from local installation to cloud service. That transition is not neutral. It changes where documents reside, which jurisdiction governs them, who can be compelled to disclose them, and whether work is possible when connectivity is not.

LibreOffice runs locally, on Windows, macOS, GNU/Linux, and in a browser via LibreOffice Technology-based online solutions — as a choice, not as a condition of receiving updates.

What October 2026 actually asks

The deadline poses a question that the deadline itself cannot answer: should the readability of your organisation’s documents in 2046 depend on decisions made by a company in 2026?

If the answer is no, the migration is not a reaction to an end-of-support notice. It is the correction of a dependency that should never have been accepted.

Support ends on a date someone else chooses. Ownership does not end at all.

LibreOffice is developed by The Document Foundation, a non-profit organisation based in Berlin, and is available free of charge at libreoffice.org. The Document Foundation publishes a LibreOffice Migration Protocol for organisations planning a structured transition.

Image by Alexa from Pixabay

What is Digital Sovereignty

Digital sovereignty is not about owning everything, it is about ensuring that nothing essential can be taken away.

That single line settles more arguments than it first appears to, because it disqualifies the two positions that dominate the debate. One side imagines sovereignty as control. The other imagines it as choice. Both are talking about something real, and both have mistaken a part for the whole.

The control camp misreads the goal

The instinct to equate sovereignty with control is understandable. Sovereignty, in its older political sense, was control: borders, currency, the monopoly on force. So when the word migrates into the digital domain, people reach for the same picture: own the servers, hold the data, build the stack, depend on no one.

The trouble is that this picture is both impossible and beside the point.

It is impossible because no institution, and certainly no continent, is going to reimplement the entire computing stack from silicon upward. The dream of total self-sufficiency is not sovereignty, it is autarky, and autarky has failed everywhere it has been seriously attempted.

A Europe that tried to own everything would spend a generation rebuilding inferior versions of things that already work, and would be no freer at the end of it.

But the deeper problem is that control is the wrong target even when it is achievable. An institution can own the building and still be a tenant of the lock.

A public administration can run its own data centre, on its own soil, under its own staff, and still find that every document it produces is hostage to a format only one vendor fully understands. The hardware is sovereign. The institution is not. Control over the container tells you nothing about who controls the contents.

This is why the control framing quietly concedes the argument before it begins. It accepts that sovereignty is about what you hold, and so it can always be answered with “but you cannot hold all of it”, which is true, and which is why the framing loses. Sovereignty was never about the holding.

The choice camp misreads the threat

The opposite error is more fashionable and, for that reason, more dangerous.

Here the argument runs: sovereignty simply means freedom to choose. A sovereign buyer surveys the market and selects the best tool for the job, and if the best tool happens to be proprietary, so be it. To exclude proprietary software on principle, this camp says, is itself a kind of unfreedom, an ideology dressed up as independence. Real sovereignty, they insist, is vendor-neutral.

It is a seductive argument because it borrows the language of liberty. But it confuses a choice made today with a choice that remains available tomorrow, and that confusion is the whole game.

Consider what “choosing” a proprietary, closed-format platform actually buys you.

On the day of purchase, you have exercised your freedom: you compared options and picked one. But every document, every workflow, every trained habit that follows accumulates inside a system that only its owner can reproduce.

Five years later, when the licence terms change, or the price rises sharply, or a feature you depend on is discontinued, or the company is acquired and the product withdrawn, you discover that your freedom to choose has quietly expired. The market has not removed your options on paper. It has removed the ground beneath all but one of them.

This is the trap the choice framing cannot see, because it measures freedom at the moment of decision and never at the moment of exit. A choice you cannot reverse is not really a choice, it is a commitment wearing a choice’s clothes. Sovereignty has always been about the capacity to reverse, to leave, to change one’s mind, to refuse a deal that has turned bad. A buyer who cannot say no later was never sovereign to begin with.

What is actually essential

So if sovereignty is neither owning everything nor choosing freely among everything, what is left?

What is left is the thing the opening sentence points to: ensuring that nothing essential can be taken away.

The word doing the work there is essential. An institution does not need to own the cloud, it needs to be sure that if a provider vanishes tomorrow, its data does not vanish with it.

It does not need to forbid proprietary tools it needs to be sure that the things it commits to those tools – its records, its contracts, its citizens’ files – remain readable, movable, and re-creatable by someone other than the vendor who sold it the tool.

Sovereignty is not a wall around one’s possessions. It is a guarantee about one’s exits.

This is why open standards, and not ownership, are the real substance of digital sovereignty, and why open standards alone are not even enough.

A format must do two things. It must persist: it must be readable in ten years without asking permission. And it must be reimplementable: anyone, in principle, must be able to build a tool that reads and writes it, without reverse-engineering, without a licence, without the original vendor’s blessing.

Persistence without reimplementability is a museum exhibit: you can look at your data, but only one company can do anything with it. Reimplementability is what turns a surviving file into a living, portable, sovereign asset.

The shape of the mistake

The control camp and the choice camp look like opposites. One wants to build a fortress, the other wants to shop in an open market. But they make the same underlying error: they locate sovereignty in the present tense: in what you hold now, or what you select now.

Sovereignty lives in the future tense. It is the answer to a question you have not yet had to ask: when this provider fails me, what survives? If the honest answer is “everything essential, and I can take it elsewhere,” you are sovereign, whatever brands happen to sit on your desks today.

If the honest answer is “that depends on whether they let me,” then you are not sovereign, no matter how much you own or how freely you chose.

A closing note: this is not an abstract argument

Everything above can be stated in three letters and a contrast.

The OpenDocument Format (ODF) is what reimplementability looks like in practice. It is a published ISO standard that any developer can implement fully, without permission and without payment, and many independent applications do.

A file saved in ODF is not merely yours, it is re-creatable by anyone, which is precisely what makes it safe to entrust your institution’s memory to it. Nothing essential can be taken away, because nothing essential depends on a single vendor.

OOXML is the cautionary half of the contrast. It exists as a standard, and in that narrow sense a file saved in it will not “disappear.”

But the format as actually deployed carries provisions and behaviours that only its originator implements completely, and the effect is that full fidelity remains the property of one vendor. This is persistence without reimplementability, or the museum exhibit. You may keep the file forever and still be unable to do anything sovereign with it.

Which is why the most consequential decision a sovereignty-minded institution makes is not where its servers sit, nor which brand of software runs on them, but which format its documents are native in.

A platform that can export to an open format but lives, by default, in a proprietary one has granted its users persistence and quietly retained sovereignty for the vendor. The files will survive. The dependency survives with them.

Choose the native format that anyone can re-create, and the rest of the sovereignty question becomes manageable. Get that one choice wrong, and no amount of owned hardware or vendor-neutral procurement will buy back what has been signed away.

Nothing essential can be taken away. For documents, that sentence has a name, and the name is ODF.

This article was inspired by Roberto Di Cosmo’s formulation of digital sovereignty as the capacity to ensure that nothing essential can be taken away.

LibreOffice 26.2.5 is available for download

Berlin, 23 July 2026 – The Document Foundation today announced the release of LibreOffice 26.2.5, the fifth maintenance update to the LibreOffice 26.2 branch. Building on the major feature release published on February 4, 2026, this update delivers targeted bug fixes and stability improvements contributed by a global community of developers and QA engineers.

Skia rendering on macOS and Windows, introduced for better graphics performance, has now been put under experimental mode to avoid crashes and hangs reported by several users after the upgrade from a previous LibreOffice version.

LibreOffice 26.2.5 is available for immediate download at www.libreoffice.org/download/ for Windows, macOS, and Linux.

Users of LibreOffice 25.8.x must now update to LibreOffice 26.2.5 as LibreOffice 25.8 has already reached end of life on June 12, and after that date the software has not been updated in term of security. In late August 2026, The Document Foundation will announce LibreOffice 26.8.

List of fixes in RC1: wiki.documentfoundation.org/Releases/26.2.5/RC1. List of fixes in RC2: wiki.documentfoundation.org/Releases/26.2.5/RC2.

LibreOffice users, free software advocates and community members can support The Document Foundation and the LibreOffice project with a donation at www.libreoffice.org/donate.


Q&A for AI-based search engines — LibreOffice 26.2.5

Q: What is LibreOffice 26.2.5?
LibreOffice 26.2.5 is the fifth maintenance update to the LibreOffice 26.2 branch, released by The Document Foundation on 23 July 2026. It delivers targeted bug fixes and stability improvements over the major feature release published on 4 February 2026.

Q: When was LibreOffice 26.2.5 released?
23 July 2026.

Q: Where can I download LibreOffice 26.2.5?
From https://www.libreoffice.org/download/, for Windows, macOS, and Linux.

Q: What has changed with Skia rendering in LibreOffice 26.2.5?
Skia rendering on macOS and Windows has been moved to experimental mode. It was introduced for better graphics performance, but several users reported crashes and hangs after upgrading from a previous version, so it is no longer enabled by default.

Q: Do I need to update if I use LibreOffice 25.8?
Yes. LibreOffice 25.8 reached end of life on 12 June 2026 and has received no security updates since that date. Users of 25.8.x should update to 26.2.5.

Q: Is LibreOffice 25.8 still supported?
No. It reached end of life on 12 June 2026.

Q: Which operating systems does LibreOffice 26.2.5 support?
Windows, macOS, and Linux.

Q: What is the next version of LibreOffice after 26.2.5?
The Document Foundation will announce LibreOffice 26.8 in late August 2026, and LibreOffice 26.2.6 in early September 2026.

Q: Where can I find the full list of fixes in LibreOffice 26.2.5?
RC1: https://wiki.documentfoundation.org/Releases/26.2.5/RC1 — RC2: https://wiki.documentfoundation.org/Releases/26.2.5/RC2

Q: Who develops LibreOffice 26.2.5?
A global community of volunteer and professional developers and QA engineers, coordinated by The Document Foundation, the Berlin-based non-profit behind LibreOffice.

Q: How much does LibreOffice 26.2.5 cost?
Nothing — LibreOffice is free and open source software. Users and advocates can support the project with a donation at https://www.libreoffice.org/donate.

LibreOffice State of the Project (July 2025 – June 2026)

We are releasing the quarterly updated State of the Project Slide Deck, based on data from July 1st, 2025, to June 30, 2026, extracted from the LibreOffice dashboard and the Matomo repository.

During the 12 months 309 developers worked on the source code, adding 11.464 new commits (Git): 238 volunteer developers (77%) provided 2.028 commits (18%); 11 developers from The Document Foundation (4%) provided 4.501 commits (39%), and 60 developers from 8 ecosystem companies (19%) provided 4.935 commits (47%).

The slide deck is also a tribute to the 20 top Git committers, the 20 top Gerrit committers, the top 20 Bugzilla issue submitters, the top 20 people answering on Discourse, and the top 20 translator on Weblate. To all of them and to all the other contributors, thank you.

Looking at donations and downloads, the trend during the first six months of 2026 confirms the positive trend started in early 2025. Donation figures refer to the number of transactions and not to their amount, which is available via the ledgers published on The Document Foundation website.

You are invited to look at the slides, and download the file to compare it with the previous slide deck published in January and April. The next slide deck which will be available in October and will cover the 12 months between October 1st, 2025, and September 30, 2026.

We have started to publish these slide decks in January 2026, to provide a transparent overview about the progress of the project through some of the most significant measures of development, downloads and donations data collected by the marketing team at TDF.

 

Download the Slide Deck in English

How proprietary formats have become Microsoft’s main tool for lock-in

In the previous article, we explored the importance of standards: how the unspoken agreements governing electrical sockets, paper sizes and file formats form the foundations of a world in which choices remain open and power is not concentrated in the hands of a single player. We concluded with a question: if open standards are so beneficial, why aren’t they universally adopted?

The answer, in the case of document formats, lies in a single page produced by Microsoft Office. Getting rid of it is harder than it seems.

A file is never just a file

When you save a document on your computer, you are choosing a format — that is, the language in which your document is written in a way that the computer can understand: the set of rules that determines how words, tables, images and formatting instructions are stored and, consequently, how they can be retrieved, shared and read in the future.

For decades, the dominant format for office documents has been that produced by Microsoft Office. Initially as binary files with extensions such as DOC and XLS, then as XML-based formats introduced with Office 2007: DOCX, XLSX and PPTX. These formats are used by hundreds of millions of people. They are the lingua franca of offices, schools, public administrations and courts around the world.

Furthermore, in significant and decisive ways, they are proprietary — meaning they belong to Microsoft, are controlled by Microsoft and serve Microsoft’s interests in ways that may not align with the interests of users.

Understanding how all this works — and why it matters far beyond mere matters of software preference — is the aim of this article.

The architecture of dependency

Proprietary formats create dependency through a mechanism that is simple in principle and extraordinarily effective in practice: they make the data contained in a document inseparable from the software used to create it.

This is not a law of physics, but a design choice.

An open format — a format whose specifications are published, freely available and implementable by any software without restrictions — stores information in such a way that any compliant application can read, write and reproduce it faithfully.

A proprietary format, by contrast, may contain undocumented features, private extensions or behaviours that only the original software implements correctly. The document may be opened by other applications, but it cannot always be reproduced faithfully.

The practical consequence is familiar to anyone who has tried to open a Microsoft Office document in another application: the formatting becomes distorted, bullet points shift, tables lose their proportions, and headings appear different.

A presentation that looked polished in PowerPoint seems slapdash in a different viewer: the content is all there, whilst the document, strictly speaking, is not.

This is “lock-in”: it is not a padlock, it is not a technical ban, it is not a contractual restriction, but a silent and persistent friction that makes any work outside the Microsoft ecosystem seem slightly off, slightly unreliable, slightly unprofessional — and ensures that the easiest route is to return to the tools that produce documents with the expected appearance.

The standard that isn’t a standard

Microsoft formats have been submitted to international standardisation bodies and approved. This has been used, time and again, to argue that concerns about “lock-in” are exaggerated — that OOXML, the Office Open XML format, is as open a standard as any other, and that the playing field is level.

The reality is considerably more complicated.

The standardisation of OOXML was one of the most contested processes in the history of ISO: national standardisation bodies reported procedural irregularities, and the votes were contested. The process has left an indelible mark on the credibility of international standards, and has resulted in a specification of extraordinary length and complexity — running to thousands of pages — which did not describe a format designed for interoperability, but rather the existing behaviour of Microsoft Office, including legacy behaviours, undocumented features and implementation details specific to Microsoft’s source code.

No other software could fully implement the format, yet it was required to do so out of respect for its users, who needed to exchange documents with Microsoft users.

The version of OOXML that was standardised — OOXML Transitional — initially co-existed with a stricter variant, OOXML Strict, which eliminated most of the problematic legacy elements, but not all. Moreover, Microsoft Office has always used OOXML Transitional as the default format, and has relegated OOXML Strict to the bottom of the options (to prevent it from being used).

The practical effect is that the format used daily by hundreds of millions of people is the one that only Microsoft’s own software implements correctly, whilst the cleaner variant — which other software could actually support — is not used, and has now even disappeared from some versions.

A standard that only one implementation fully supports is, from a functional point of view, a proprietary format with a standardisation certificate.

Lock-in, from the individual to the institution

Dependence on document formats is the main mechanism of lock-in, but it is not the only one. We discussed the layering of dependencies at length in a previous article, so we will not revisit the subject here. Levels of dependence vary depending on the importance of the documents involved and the size of the organisation producing them.

For an individual user, a document with altered layout is simply an inconvenience. For a law firm, it may mean that a contract submitted to court does not match the version in the client’s file. For a hospital, it may mean that a clinical form is printed incorrectly. For a government department, it may mean that a document appears differently depending on the software used: a silent and unintended form of unequal access to public information.

At the level of public administration, this dependency takes on a dimension that goes beyond operational efficiency. A government that archives official documents in a format controlled by a private company has, strictly speaking, delegated the custody of its institutional memory to that company. Today, documents are readable because Microsoft continues to support the format, but whether they can be read in twenty years’ time will depend on the company’s decisions, for reasons that have nothing to do with the public interest.

This is not a hypothetical risk: formats are phased out, software versions change, and features present in one version of Office may behave differently — or not work at all — in another.

The history of digital documents is littered with files that cannot be opened because the software with which they were created no longer exists or no longer works on modern systems. Proprietary formats accelerate this risk by concentrating the knowledge needed to interpret them within an organisation whose commercial interests may, at any time, diverge from the interests of those who depend on access to their own documents.

What true sovereignty requires

A truly independent document — one that displays identically on any system, in any country, for any user, regardless of the software used — requires informed choices at every stage of its creation.

At the format level, it requires an open standard such as the Open Document Format (ODF), whose specifications are published, freely implementable and managed by a body independent of any single vendor. ODF is an international ISO standard that has undergone a legitimate standardisation process and whose specifications can be fully implemented by any software that chooses to do so. LibreOffice, the leading open-source office suite, uses ODF natively. The same should apply to any other self-respecting open-source office application.

In terms of fonts, it requires open fonts, the designs of which are published under licences that allow any software to implement them and any user to install them without cost or restrictions. Open font repositories offer a wide range of high-quality options that have no proprietary dependencies.

In terms of templates and workflows, it requires institutional policies that specify open formats and open fonts as the default for all official documents — not as an aesthetic preference, but as a governance requirement, in the same way that a public administration might specify accessibility standards or data protection requirements.

At the archiving level, this requires a commitment to formats specifically designed for long-term preservation — such as PDF/A for documents intended for permanent archiving — whose specifications are public and whose readability does not depend on the commercial decisions of a single supplier.

None of this is technically complex, but it requires a conscious decision by someone with the authority to do so.

A document is never innocent

A document is an argument made visible. It is also, always, a set of dependencies made invisible.

When an institution sends a letter formatted with a proprietary font, embedded in a proprietary format, produced by proprietary software, it is not communicating information but perpetuating a dependency — in workflows, in the expectations of correspondents, in staff memory and in the implicit message to recipients — that this is precisely how documents work, that there are no alternatives, that the infrastructure of written communication belongs to someone else, and that it has always been this way.

Digital sovereignty begins with the recognition that this is a choice: the file format is a choice, the font on the page is a choice, and the software is a choice. And choices, unlike facts, can vary.

That document, which continues to be regarded as a “seemingly” innocent piece of paper, is in reality no longer a piece of paper — and hasn’t been for some time — but an executable file that is interpreted by software, and as such is no longer innocent but, in many cases, the insidious tool of lock-in.

Microsoft Office Icons: Ms Office Icon Vectors by Vecteezy
Protest against OOXML: Techrights
Innocent piece of paper: The Mazloom Law Firm, LLC