From Clay Tablets to Central Archives: How European History Shaped Canadian Archival Practices

Editor’s note: We welcome a guest blog post from Scott Jones, MLIS, Class Facilitator at Mohawk College, Hamilton, Ontario.

Archival theory and practice in Canada didn’t emerge in a vacuum—it’s deeply rooted in European traditions that stretch back thousands of years. Understanding this lineage helps us appreciate why certain principles, like respect des fonds, remain central to archival work today. I see a disconnect between how Canada got here, and how archives differ from other institutions. This post serves to introduce the early history of archives and move towards a Canadian perspective of archival value and history.

A Brief History of Archives

The concept of archives began with the invention of writing. Ancient civilizations like the Assyrians (750–600 BC) maintained state archives on clay tablets. The Egyptians used papyrus, while the Greeks and Romans preferred parchment and vellum. These early records documented everything from legal decisions to correspondence, laying the groundwork for systematic record-keeping.

Even the Vatican Archives, one of the oldest continuous archival institutions, traces its origins to the 3rd century AD, during the Roman Empire.

During the Middle Ages, archival development stalled in Europe. Nobles led nomadic lives, and only essential documents—mainly financial or legal—were preserved. However, as noble residences became more permanent and paper became widely used, record-keeping practices improved. Still, archives remained decentralized and scattered. By 1782, France had 1,225 separate archives, with 405 in Paris alone!

The French Revolution marked a turning point in Western archival history. In 1789, France established a national archive, and by 1794, it centralized all provincial archives under one administration. Three revolutionary ideas emerged:

  1. Centralization of archival systems.
  2. Government responsibility for preserving records.
  3. Public access to archives—an early gesture toward transparency.

These principles spread across Europe, especially in territories occupied by Napoleon. Countries adapted them to fit their own administrative structures, although political fragmentation delayed progress in places like Germany and Russia.

Archives: Administrative vs. Scholarly Roles

Initially, European archives, served administrative functions, staffed by government officials. But post-revolution nationalism sparked interest in national history. Documents like medieval charters became cultural treasures, and scholars began to take over archival roles.

This shift led to:

  • Subject-based classification of records to aid research.
  • Neglect of recent government records, deemed not “historical.”
  • Loss of context, making it hard to trace the origins and sequence of events in records.

Respect des Fonds: A Defining Principle

By 1841, France faced chaos due to subject-based classification. During the Revolution, millions of documents were destroyed or scattered when feudal privileges were abolished and cultural materials were burned. By the early 19th century, archivists tried to reorganize what remained, grouping records by topic rather than origin. The government reintroduced a system grouping records by their creating agency—a concept known as respect des fonds:

 “The whole of the documents of any nature that every administrative body, every physical or corporate entity, automatically and organically accumulates by reason of its function or of its activity.”

This principle revolutionized archival practice in Europe, emphasizing the importance of preserving the original context of records. It remains a cornerstone of archival theory in Europe and North America, including in Canada.

Legacy and Influence in Canada

Modern Canadian archival systems reflect these European developments:

  • Centralized national archives modeled after the French system.
  • Respect des fonds as a guiding principle in arrangement and description.
  • Dual roles of archives—serving both administrative needs and scholarly research.

Depending on the perceived function, Canadian archives may fall under different government departments, such as Education, Culture, or Government Services, echoing the historical tension between administrative and scholarly priorities. Canada has also from these European pillars built its own systems known as the Rules of Archival Description, and the Total Archives Concept

Rules of Archival Description

The Rules for Archival Description (RAD) is Canada’s national standard for describing archival materials. First published in 1990 and last revised in 2008, RAD provides a standardized framework for creating various levels of descriptions of records, starting at the fonds level and moving down through sous-fonds, series, sub-series, files, and items. Its purpose is to ensure consistency and clarity in archival descriptions across Canada, making it easier for researchers to understand the provenance, context, and content of archival holdings. RAD is based on traditional archival principles and shares structural similarities with AACR2, but is tailored to reflect the unique requirements of archival description rather than bibliographic cataloging.

Total Archives & Modern Interpretations

The Public Archives of Canada (now Library & Archives Canada), established in 1872, emerged from the nation-building spirit following Confederation in 1867, reflecting European trends but introducing a distinctive approach. Unlike European and American traditions, which limited archives to government records and left private papers to libraries, Canada’s first Dominion Archivist advocated for preserving all historically valuable materials—government and private—in one institution. This philosophy evolved into the Total Archives concept, a uniquely Canadian contribution to archival theory, which integrates different media types including textual records, photographs, maps, films into a single archival repository. Institutions like the Archives of Ontario exemplify this model, documenting both governmental activities and private lives to capture the full scope of provincial history.

In recent years, archives have faced growing pressure to address systemic biases and colonial legacies. The Truth and Reconciliation Commission’s 2015 Calls to Action (Sections 67–70) specifically targeted toward museums and archives, presents a compelling argument for inclusivity and sensitivity toward Indigenous communities. This has provoked archivists to reassess Eurocentric classification systems, identify harmful or traumatic records, and involve Indigenous communities in shaping collections. Some archives now provide content warnings and are revising finding aids to reflect cultural sensitivity and knowledge. National bodies, such as the Association of Canadian Archivists (ACA), have responded with frameworks like the Response to the Report of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission Taskforce, signaling a commitment to decolonization and reconciliation.

Beyond Indigenous issues, archives are confronting broader inequities affecting BIPOC and 2SLGBTQIA+ communities. Historically, these groups have been underrepresented in collections and marginalized within the profession itself. The ACA acknowledges that Canadian archival systems are rooted in Western European practices, perpetuating colonialism, racism, sexism, ableism, and other forms of exclusion. Recognizing that archives actively shape public memory and are never neutral, the ACA supports movements such as Black Lives Matter and Idle No More and has adopted Equity Commitments such as a living plan outlining actions and resources to foster diversity and justice within archival practice.

This transformation is ongoing and complex. It involves not only diversifying collections but also reforming hiring practices, dismantling systemic barriers, and engaging with equity-seeking communities. Educational initiatives and professional development are critical for archivists and librarians to understand these issues and implement inclusive strategies. While libraries have often led the way in addressing diversity and inclusion, archives are increasingly embracing these principles, signaling a shift toward a more representative and socially responsible archival landscape.

Final Thoughts

The evolution of archival theory in Canada is a story of adaptation, innovation, and the enduring value of preserving our documentary heritage. From ancient clay tablets to digital repositories, the principles forged in Europe continue to shape how Canadian archivists organize, preserve, and provide access to the records that define our collective memory. Though this is not without its issues, and there is a movement across Canada to be more inclusive and understanding of the many minorities, aboriginals, and LGBTQ2+ communities. Some progress has been made to decolonize Canadian archives, and move away from our colonial past, but we must remember the mistakes of the past, to move forward to a new and better future.

Works Cited

Association of Canadian archivists. Reconciliation framework. (n.d.). https://archivists.ca/Reconciliation-Framework

Haworth, Kent M. “The Voyage of RAD: From the Old World to the New.” Archivaria 35 (Spring 1993): 55–63. https://archivaria.ca/index.php/archivaria/article/view/11885/12838 , preserved at https://perma.cc/GFH5-YWSY.

Mohawk College. (2023). Lecture 1: Introduction to Archives. D2L – Ontario Learn.

Posner, E. (1940). Some Aspects of Archival Development since the French Revolution . The American Archivist , 3(3), 159–172.

Special Collections and the COVID-19 Return to Campus

ACRLog welcomes a guest post from Paul Doty, Librarian for Special Collections & University Archives, St. Lawrence University.

With the Coronavirus Spring of 2020 behind colleges and universities, the time to reflect on a semester compelled online has immediately rebooted to planning for an uncertain fall. Attention turns from helping students cope with the dashed expectations of a sudden physical disconnect from campus to a tangle of financial and health and safety concerns. Assessing the situation has prompted some in higher education, notably the California State University System, to announce (or argue) for a continuation of remote learning. Some campuses, notably Wells College in New York State, have suggested their continuance depends on having students back on campus. As the practical matters of dorm life and classrooms play out amidst the ongoing pandemic, there is also going to be a need to articulate why a community should be on campus. Within this, special collections and archives can be restorative as academic life returns to its quality of sanctuary by providing tangible hands-on materials that demonstrate re-acclimatizing to the life of the mind anew.

A very useful summary of questions that librarians will need to address is “Now and Next: What a Post-COVID World May Bring for Libraries” on the IFLA Library Policy and Advocacy Blog. Two questions that are specially apropos for special collections are, ”Many of our activities have ‘pivoted’ to online – will they stay there?” and “Education has been disrupted and delayed – can we limit the scarring effects?”

Addressing the first point, the post asserts, “Nonetheless, the possibilities of digital – for learning, researching and accessing all forms of culture – will be clearer for all, and convenience may well replace necessity as a reason for using online tools” (Library Policy). This is doubtless true, and certainly how libraries have provided online services in a climate of necessity is an opportunity to assess future services, but life online does not life make. Much of the discourse in the media suggests a high level of student dissatisfaction with the unexpected online curriculum; one PBS study pegged this near fifty percent (Krupnick).

A university archives can reconnect students with the tangible manifestations of the institution wrought over its history. Of our relationship to information technology Neal Postman wrote, “Unlike television or the computer, language appears to be not an extension of our powers but simply a natural expression of who and what we are” ( 124). The relationship of language to the identity of the institution can be made clear in archival collections. Particularly, if students can see the papers of university professors or presidents, or correspondence related to the important work of the university—if they can hold those materials in their hands—then students have an ability to see the genesis of where they are in a very real way. This is a way to reorient from being online only—a lot of blood, sweat, and tears have gone into making online courses, but universities have to reckon with reestablishing community identity. Certainly, institutional identity will be revived within many social circles, but here is also an avenue for people to connect with the college through its archives. In so doing, it is also an opportunity to encourage faculty and administrators to reconsider the archives as a critical teaching tool for a university curriculum working to make academics bespeak the post-COVID-19 future students will need to consider.

The concern about educational delays and disruptions is addressed in another post on the Library Policy and Advocacy Blog titled “Storytelling in Difficult Times: Accessing the Past During a Pandemic.” The post tackles a number of questions related to technology and archived materials, and suggests that “In our modern, hyper-visual era, we are inundated with media…[though] stories don’t seem entirely real until we see visual evidence of them” (Library Policy, Storytelling). As academic communities regather there is a clear-cut need to again argue the case for the intimacy of our relationship with primary source material. Bombarded as they have been by news from medical and elected officials filtered through endless online spin, a post-COVID-19 student body will be hungry for the challenges in seemingly simple materials they can see for themselves and hold in their hands. How to identify handmade paper and to what aim watermarks work are investigations well recast as exercises interacting with the real. Having materials in hand to examine reasserts agency over events—obviously examining a book by Kelmscott Press is not going to mitigate the lasting effects of the events of March and April 2020, but it demonstrates creativity within the detail, that you can regain a sense of proportion and inspiration. Clues to whether paper is handmade or what watermarks on a flyleaf signify demonstrate that there is a story in the details which anyone, if they are willing to try, can decipher. These are discrete projects and discrete questions to reinstill a sense of agency in young people who have likely felt at the mercy of events.

Finally, as academic communities regather, archives are uniquely positioned to make the case for the essence of what a library is within the academic setting. Of course, how they will gather when they return according to yet to be articulated social distancing guidelines is still an open question, a prickly question when you would like to see classes forming as communities of readers to consider books. Alberto Manguel explained it this way when thinking back on the most legendary of all libraries, “as a public space the Library of Alexandria was a paradox, a building set aside for an essentially private craft (reading) now to take place communally” (31). Being a visible (visual if you will) argument for the primacy of reading within everything else a library does is a great role for an archives, a special collections department. This primacy will be asserted through the necessity of training critical skeptical readers, and this training can be greatly aided by studying original texts. Attempts by interested parties at major media platforms to try to create controversy over COVID-19 mortality data brought to the fore the need to know how to read data. One can find great explanations—a beautiful example here by John Burn-Murdoch, Valentina Romei and Chris Giles writing for the Financial Times—that underscore the need for experience with primary source material if one wishes to read to debunk (Murdoch). Special collections can emphasize the process through which students reinvent themselves in reading’s mental demands. According to a quotation widely attributed to American President Harry S. Truman, “Not all readers are leaders, but all leaders are readers.” The physicality of reading demonstrated via studying old books and manuscripts can get the consideration of reading where it needs to be; it can inspire our post-COVID-19 student leaders.

Works Cited

Burn-Murdoch, John, Valentina Romie, Chris Giles. “Global Coronavirus Death Toll Could Be 60% Higher Than Reported. Financial Times. April 26, 2020. https://www.ft.com/content/6bd88b7d-3386-4543-b2e9-0d5c6fac846c

Krupnick, Matt. “Forced Off Campus by Coronavirus, Students Aren’t Won Over By Online Education.”  PBS Newshour, March 27, 2020. https://www.pbs.org/newshour/education/forced-off-campus-by-coronavirus-students-arent-won-over-by-online-education

Library Policy and Advocacy Blog. “Now and Next: What a Post-Covid World May Bring for Libraries,” Blog, April 6 2020. https://blogs.ifla.org/lpa/2020/04/06/now-and-next-what-a-post-covid-world-may-bring-for-libraries/

Library Policy and Advocacy Blog. “Storytelling in Difficult Times: Accessing the Past During a Pandemic,” Library Policy and Advocacy Blog. Blog. April 2 2020. https://blogs.ifla.org/lpa/2020/04/02/storytelling-in-difficult-times-accessing-the-past-during-a-pandemic/    

Manguel, Alberto. The Library at Night. New Haven: Yale University Press, 2009.

Postman, Neal. Technopoly: The Surrender of Culture to Technology. New York: Knopf, 1992.

Leading By Example: The Idealis highlights expert-curated open access LIS research

As I began crafting this sixth (and final1) piece as a First Year Librarian Blogger for ACRLog, I realized I’d come full circle thematically over the course of my posts, closing with a more focused call to action inspired by my work with The Idealis, which I discuss below. Last October during Open Access Week, in my first post, I shared reflections on the state of open access publishing, noting many optimistic aspects to this evolution in scholarship, despite its perceived slow pace of development. I highlighted Peter Suber’s state-of-the-union webcast in which he accurately describes a movement led by librarians, who remain open access’s biggest champions and workhorses, and the continued need to expand stakeholder engagement beyond the library. Much open access advocacy work has focused on partnerships with researchers, funders, and policy-makers (see groups like SPARC, Right to Research Coalition, Force11, etc.), yet Suber’s ideas for extending OA’s reach included a seemingly small suggestion–to lead by example.

Enter The Idealis, a new overlay journal of high-quality, open access library and information science scholarship, intended to elevate open access publications, and encourage others to publish and self-archive their work as OA. The journal officially launched on March 15th with its first collection area, scholarly communications, and will continue collection development into other areas of librarianship (such as archives, critlib, OER, liaison librarianship, etc.).

Continue reading “Leading By Example: The Idealis highlights expert-curated open access LIS research”

Working on Wikipedia Redux

Last weekend I had a great time participating in the Wikipedia Art+Feminism editathon, an annual event to increase the representation and coverage of women in the arts on Wikipedia. You may remember Art+Feminism co-organizer Siân Evans’s guest post last December — Why GLAM Wiki — which well-explains the editathon’s aims and accomplishments.

I’m a huge fan of Wikipedia — for my (and my family’s) own use as well as in teaching undergrads and graduate students. I also think working on Wikipedia is a perfect fit for academic librarians, with our research skills and our ability to access paywalled academic literature (though the latter I hope will someday become unnecessary as open access continues to gain ground). But I confess that I’m not as active in editing and adding content to Wikipedia as I’d like to be.

Indeed, last weekend I found myself thinking about the last editathon I attended two years ago, which I wrote about on my very infrequently updated professional blog. That semester I participated in the editathon in part because I was co-teaching a graduate class on interactive technology and pedagogy with Michael Mandiberg, another Art+Feminism co-organizer. We included a couple of Wikipedia assignments for our students in our grad course, and I wanted to put myself in my students’ shoes by doing a bit of editing and adding content, too.

This semester I’m teaching the course again (though solo this time), and again students are working on a Wikipedia assignment. We’re also spending more time in the course reading and talking about Wikipedia as a community as well as a collaboratively-created resource. Again I find myself thinking, as I did two years ago, about undergraduate work on Wikipedia, especially in the context of single- (or 2-3) session instruction as opposed to an entire semester of work on a Wikipedia assignment. I know my grad students — many of whom are teaching right now or will be soon — are also thinking about this. How can we incorporate Wikipedia content creation into instruction in smaller ways than spending a whole semester on an article or series of articles?

This year the editathon I attended was at Interference Archive, a volunteer-run archive in Brooklyn, NY that focuses on social movements. Editathon co-organizers Nora Almeida and Jen Hoyer went through the archives before last weekend to pull particularly relevant files for us to work on if we were looking for inspiration. My background is not in the arts, so I especially appreciated these efforts and was glad to be able to jump into finding info about an artist whose work I found in one of the files. And it strikes me that this might be a good way for students to jump into Wikipedia editing, too — beginning with archival or historical materials and synthesizing them with sources we can find online.

I’m happy to see that the edits I made last weekend — creating a stub for the Australian artist Arlene TextaQueen, are still live as I type this. And even more pleasantly surprising? The edits I made 2 years ago are still live, too.