...I'll never be able to read again the "archives" I have saved myself on some 3 1/2" floppy disks, which I still keep somewhere in a drawer...
And whose fault is it that you didn't upgrade your data storage from floppies to newer, more current media before floppy drives became obsolete? Technology isn't stagnant; it keeps evolving, and sometimes devolving—the latest is not always the greatest—so one has to keep their data storage media current to avoid losing data.
Thank you for caring, and for learning me something I don't know. What you describe is precisely the problem.
Many people who make a living archiving documents describe it exactly the way you do, except they present it as an issue. I'm glad for you you've managed to digitise every scrap of paper pertaining to your life since the Commodore 64 was around, but most people can't do that -- and coming to think of it, most institutions devoted to archival can't either.
Of course paper gets lost or destroyed. Most everything from the past has been, and will be. Including all your digitised archives, which, if you've been persistent enough to keep, future generations will not care to maintain.
The point is, if you just stack old papers in a suitcase in the attic, and do nothing, your grandchildren will still be able to read them. If you leave a colour portrait of a loved one in a tomb in Fayoum, and do nothing, future generations will be able to look at them several thousands years later. If you do the same thing with Commodore floppies, super-duper glass media or whatever, it's guaranteed nobody will be able to read them in a very short while.
There's no way I could digitise the thousands of books I own, a sizeable amount of which have been bequeathed to me by departed relatives -- after having crossed a few borders, and lived through a few wars and revolutions. Mind you, many of them are in a better condition than brand-new books printed and sold today.
Even if I had the funds of, say, Donald Trump, I still could not digitise them. You can't digitise the weight of a book, the feel of paper, the dry flowers that have been pressed between the pages.