Origins

The position of registrar has historical origins predating those of most other college and university officials. Indeed, until fairly recently, the registrar performed many of the functions now handled by other college and university professionals. For example, an officer responsible solely for what we now consider "admissions" work did not emerge until this century; prior to then, admissions functions were handled by an institution’s registrar.

Before we embark upon an account of the historical origins of the registrar’s profession, it is important to note that the first registrars were, of course, male, as were all university officials until relatively recently. As we’ll see, that’s just one of the many changes our profession has experienced over the years. Today, according to an October 1999 AACRAO membership survey, 63% of those working in registrar-related professions are women. Though this survey had a response rate of only 23%, I think it’s fair to surmise that at present women do comprise the majority of those in registrar-related professions. In 1987, AACRAO reported that women comprised 43.4 % of total membership; this figure had jumped to 57% by July 1997.

How old, exactly, is the office of the registrar? Well, its origins can be traced back to roughly the end of the twelfth century when the office of the bedel emerged at the universities of Bologna in Italy, Paris in France, and Oxford in England. According to C. James Quann in Admissions, Academic Records, and Registrar Services (pg. 2), at Bologna, the duties of the bedel (there called the bedelli generale) included ceremonially preceding the rector on public occasions, visiting the schools to read statutes and decrees, announcing lectures by students, and distributing lists of books on sale by book stall keepers or individual students. Quann also states that the bedelli generale served as enforcer of the requirement that each university doctor, after undergoing today’s equivalent of a dissertation defense, put his work in writing. The general bedel then delivered the work for publication. Interestingly, the late Hastings Rashdall points out that each university doctor was appointed a "special" bedelli who was responsible, among other things, for seeing to it that the doctor’s classroom, which was usually a rented apartment or private house, was kept clean and in order. Remember, I noted that the registrar used to perform many tasks now handled by others at the institution…

Moving on to the University of Paris, where a bedel served under the proctor for each nation of students represented at the university, we find the following long list of responsibilities, and punishments for not fulfilling them, translated from the Charter of the University of Paris and noted in Lynn Thorndike’s University Records and Life in the Middle Ages (pgs. 44-45):

"These are the statutes which the bedells [sic] of the University of Paris obligate themselves faithfully to observe, giving personal security. They ought to attend the opening lecture of each person incepting, poor or otherwise, from beginning to end, unless it is well known that they have been sent by the person incepting or the proctor of his nation on some special errand or for some common examination of the nation, or unless they have to attend funeral obsequies, or unless their own bodily infirmity prevents them, or unless they are detained by some other legitimate and notorious occasion. If, however, they absent themselves unexcused by any of the said occasions, they ought to forfeit their portion of that purse which he gives who incepts, which portion, I say, should go to the proctor of the said bedell who forfeits it. Also, if it is enjoined upon any bedell to call a meeting either special or general, and it can be proved by three or four masters that he has not cited them, he should know that he will similarly forfeit a portion of each purse, two solidi, which portion likewise will go to the proctor of that nation. Also, if he ought to announce a course and it can be proved that he has failed to go to all classes, he should know that he will incur the same penalty and the same loss in the same manner as aforesaid. Also, each bedell ought early in the morning on each day to visit the classes not only of his own proctor but also of every proctor of every nation, which if he does not do, let him know that he will incur the same loss in the same manner. Also, if he shall fail to attend the common examination of anyone of his nation or shall be proved to have betrayed the university’s secrets, let him know that he shall forfeit one purse as has been said. Also, if he is absent on Friday at the vespers of his nation, he shall lose two pence and for mass two. Also, if he does not have a calendar and is deficient in announcing to individuals a Feast which is not well known, of even in not preventing disputation when he should, for each such offense he shall forfeit four pence, all which pence the proctor of the nation of the delinquent bedell should keep for the use of his nation."

One gets the feeling that bedels at the University of Paris had little remuneration left to show for their efforts at the end of the day, such was the list of offenses for which they could loose portions of their earnings.

At Oxford, according to Quann, the university was headed by a chancellor, two proctors, and six bedels, who were elected annually. Charles Mallet, in his history of Oxford, describes the duties of these bedels, and well as the political intrigue that sometimes surrounded their appointments:

"They figured in all ceremonies, funerals included. They published proclamations, generally in Latin. They went round the Schools, giving out University announcements. They collected the votes in Congregation. They served writs, exacted fines, and escorted evil-doers to prison when they consented to go." (This, of course, begs the question: Who escorted them when they didn’t consent to go?) Mallet continues, "Their duties and perquisites were settled by Statutes, which had to be repeated when the "charity of the students grew cold." (Thankfully, in this day and age, our salaries aren’t so closely tied to the "charity" of the students.) "Three of them, who came to be known as Gentlemen or Esquire Bedels, were superior to the others in standing. They were expected to provide their inferior colleagues with food and with ten shillings a year for shoes. And these superior posts were evidently in demand. We find great personages interfering in the nominations. In the days of corruption it was alleged that the posts were sold. In 1433 the four Superior Faculties attempted to nominate a Bedel, asserting that they were the ‘senior and saner part of the electors.’ But the Masters of Arts resisted and carried their candidate in. Later on, Henry VI and Edward IV recommended candidates of their own. Henry demanded the punishment of two Bedels, who had ‘outrageously uttered’ libels against himself, his ‘wyf’ and his son. And later still, in 1501, the election of an Oxford Bedel caused a sharp division in Royal circles. The Prince of Wales and the Bishop of Lincoln supported one candidate. The Prince’s grandmother, the illustrious Lady Margaret, preferred another. The King and Queen encouraged a third. The Lady Margaret’s candidate won, and the Bishop, who was also Chancellor of the University, was repeatedly reminded that even Caesar, Cicero, and Pompey had sometimes proved unable to oblige their friends."

From Bedel to Registrar

As all of us involved in the registrar’s profession know all too well, change is one of the only constants. This, apparently, was true from the beginning, though the pace of change was considerably slower than it is today. Within 250 years of the emergence of the office of bedel, the responsibilities of the role began to change, as did the title. It was during the middle of the fifteenth century that the title "registrar" came into usage with the appointment at Oxford of an official of that title. With the title change came a change in position description, if you will. According to Mallet, the registrar’s duties were "to give form and permanence to the university’s public acts, to draft its letters, to make copies of its documents, and to register the names of its graduates and examinatory sermons."

At the University of Cambridge in the sixteenth century, Quann tells us the registrar was in charge of coordinating university ceremonies and, eventually, of reviewing all prospective matriculants as well. Still later, the registrar served as secretary for all academic bodies at the university, a pattern that spread throughout British and British-influenced higher education.

The American Tradition

Speaking of British-influenced higher education, we find that the first registrar in the American colonies served, at Harvard, only part-time in that capacity and was first and foremost a teaching faculty member. Incidentally, the person doing the registrar’s duties probably didn’t hold that title, but held only his professorial title. It’s also interesting to note that other administrative posts at Harvard were also filled in this way. In contrast, Yale appears from the beginning to have adopted the practice of employing a full-time bedel (curiously, they retained the earlier name for the position, though most British universities had by this time switched to "registrar").

It seems most American colleges and universities followed Harvard’s lead in that they utilized professors to fulfill the duties of registrar and of other administrators, sometimes including the president, as well. Jay A. Halfond, in his article "The History of Higher Education and the Registrar’s Changing Role", noted, "Academic backgounds differed for the various administrative offices: business officers and registrars came from the physical sciences, deans and librarians had studied mainly languages and literature, whereas philosophy and social sciences were the most frequent disciplines of presidents."

Registrars tended to be first and foremost professors until the end of the nineteenth century, when the position of registrar came to be regarded as a professional, full-time, rather specialized one and when the term "registrar" acquired its present meaning within the context of American higher education. According to Quann, the registrar was among the first administrative officers to earn professional, specialist status. Only the college president, the librarian, and possibly the treasurer were regarded as such earlier.

Indeed, in American higher education, the position of registrar predated even that of dean, though it could be argued that the dean’s position evolved from that of rector or proctor in much the same way as the position of registrar evolved from that of bedel. (Today, I would venture to guess that there are very few institutions that do not have a full-time registrar, whose primary duties are administrative in nature, though often registrars are accorded at least faculty status, if not rank. In a September 1997 informal survey of 140 participants on SCR-L, the small college registrars’ listserv, 42% of the respondents indicated that their institutions accorded the registrar faculty status.)

Emergence of the Modern Registrar

What were the duties of this new breed of professional academic administrator called registrar? Well, as you might imagine, one primary duty (which, of course, remains to this day) was overseeing the registration of students. Quann notes the following,

"By the 1920’s at the University of Michigan, students had to be in line by 4:00 a.m. to be sure of getting registered by the end of the day; as late as 1937, students at Michigan State College were spending an average of seven hours in line at each registration period; and stories (nb: perhaps we’d call them urban legends today) of registration confusion were common at many institutions. At Tulane, for instance, the tale circulated of one preengineering student who, after receiving and completing the wrong registration forms and waiting in the premed line, decided that it would be too much trouble to reregister in engineering and entered medicine instead."

Unfortunately, we have no record of how well he fared in his new field of endeavor.

In addition to managing registration, registrars early in this century did many other things that remain part of the job today. For example, keeping official student records, communicating to students university or college academic policies and regulations, preparing official publications, serving as a general information bureau for academic information, scheduling classes, forecasting enrollment, and what we call today institutional research were all as important nearly one hundred years ago as they are today.

However, though many similarities can be seen between the registrars of early this century and those of today, there were some important differences as well. This century’s early registrars were responsible for many functions that today fall under the domain of admissions or student services. For instance, corresponding with prospective students, dealing with applications, conducting high school visits, managing scholarships and financial assistance, greeting new students and conducting their orientation, and providing career counseling were not uncommon. It was not until after World War II, and partly as a result of changes caused by the 1946 Servicemen’s Readjustment Act (commonly known as the G.I. Bill), that admissions seems to have developed as a distinct specialization in university and college administration. It is at this point, then, that we see the emergence of the contemporary definition of registrar, though certainly the way we do our jobs today is very different from the way our predecessors some 50 years ago did theirs.

The Role of the Registrar in Today’s Academy

Now that we’ve traced the history of the profession and have an understanding of its evolution, let’s spend some time discussing the role of the registrar in today’s academy.

It seems that everyone, registrars included, has a hard time articulating exactly what it is that registrars do in their jobs. I think this is partly because most of us do so many and such varied things that, when put on the spot (i.e., when asked "You’re a registrar? So what do you do?"), we have difficulty coming up with a complete, yet succinct answer. We know the questioner doesn’t want to listen to us describe our jobs for a full five minutes or more. Yet, when providing the answer, we don’t want to leave out something vitally important – of course, the problem is everything we do seems vitally important, at least to us and, we hope, to the institution by which we are employed. Further complicating the matter is the fact that the registrar’s job description is not exactly the same at any two colleges or universities, so that even someone who thinks he or she knows what a registrar is and does might not really understand what it is that you do.

David Lanier, in his article "The Mission of the Registrar Today, " asserts that "Regardless of the mixture of responsibilities, one thing that all registrars share in common is that their primary function is to support the instructional mission of their institutions in conducting registration and keeping the academic records." He goes on to say that, "As a result of technology, the registration and records functions have become more automated, and the registrar is becoming a data manager. The danger, however, is that technology can turn the registrar into an invisible entity on campus. As faculty and students gain more direct access to data, there is less need to come see the registrar." So, Lanier asks rhetorically, whether the position is necessary. Will the registrar become an invisible administrator or, worse yet, disappear entirely?

Most of us reading this have a compelling interest, as does Mr. Lanier, University Registrar at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, in keeping the registrar from disappearing. He asserts, and I agree, that we can help do this by maintaining our historical role as academic services leaders and by adding the new role of student information system leaders.

To fulfill our role as academic services leaders, we must maintain (or foster) strong ties to the faculty, whether we ourselves are technically considered faculty or not. We should make a conscious effort to interact with faculty, even when the organizational structure at our college or university doesn’t directly provide these opportunities. If, for example, the registrar isn’t a voting member of your institution’s academic policy and/or curriculum committee, find out whether this can be changed. Ideally, we should view it as our job not only to explain and enforce academic policy, but also to make recommendations for such policy. Do bear in mind, however, the advice of Glenn Munson as offered in his article "Reflections of a Rookie Registrar":

"…your first major policy change, the one that affects faculty, will be in trouble as soon as it gets to the floor of the Faculty meeting. At that point, remember two things: 1) you’re the new kid on the block and not really a faculty member anyway, and 2) they’ve always done it the other way. Do not try to guess how the faculty will vote on a policy change. Chances are they will vote the other way. Even major changes get passed some times, even when it looks hopeless, and some of the most minor changes don’t get past the committee stage. What you have proposed may be most logical, but it only takes one or two vocal opponents to convince everyone else that you are undermining faculty prerogatives and college standards. You know that it will only make your job easier. Don’t propose several things at the same time, hoping to get some of them through. That will not work either. Remember that the faculty has been playing that game a lot longer than you have."

If it’s not possible to gain voting privileges on important academic committees, perhaps you can arrange at least non-voting attendance. This would still provide the opportunity to interact with faculty and to offer your expertise on important policy and curriculum issues.

Another area in which the registrar can become involved is campus wide projects. The registrar is often one of the few college or university officials who has regular contact with nearly every other office on campus. Therefore, who better to coordinate efforts that must include a diverse range of participants? Such projects might include such things as coordination of the institutional self-study process for reaccredidation, chairing a community college/senior college articulation committee, or encouraging the development of campus-wide records retention and archival strategies. It is by becoming involved in projects that have wide campus visibility that we can avoid becoming invisible.

I almost hate to bring up the looming issue of government regulation, but it’s certainly an area in which the registrar can play a visible, and vital, role on campus. Many federal and state regulations, of course, directly affect the work of the registrar; the FERPA, the Soloman Amendment, the SRTK Act, and the voter registration provision of the 1998 reauthorization of the Higher Education Act come immediately to mind. But the registrar is very often the first person on campus to be informed of other federal regulations as well, ones that affect important areas of the campus. Examples are the Campus Security Act and the 1997 Taxpayer Relief Act. The proposed changes to the IPEDS surveys, especially with respect to the classification of race and ethnicity, which will affect the way data are collected as well as reported, also affect not only the registrar, but offices such as admissions and human resources as well. The registrar can, and should, serve as a source of information about such changes, making sure to notify the proper individuals on campus and to explain the regulations and the changes they might entail. Not only should the registrar make sure those on campus are informed, but he or she must also see to it that software vendors keep abreast of developments (such as the aforementioned TRA97 and the proposed race/ethnicity classifications) that will necessitate changes to the student information system. It could prove perilous to assume that vendors, especially the smaller ones that deal with relatively few schools, will stay on top of such changes on their own.

There are many other areas in which the registrar can and should become involved, but I’ll mention just two more right now. The first is institutional research, which may or may not be part of your job description. For those of us from smaller institutions, institutional research, whether it’s called that or not, probably does fall to us, whether we like it or not. Those who work in larger institutions generally have a colleague with a title something like "Director of Institutional Research." At such institutions, while the bulk of the IR work probably falls to the person whose title reflects it, the registrar can and should get involved in aspects of IR, especially those related to enrollment statistics. Who better understands the context of such statistics and can best offer the nuanced interpretations that are sometimes critical if the data are to be used most effectively?

The final suggestion I’ll mention is, again, Mr. Lanier’s – that is that the registrar become a student information systems leader. This may seem so obvious it doesn’t need mentioning, but it’s easy to lose sight of the fact that a lot of people on campus, besides those employed in the Registrar’s Office, rely on the campus’s student information system for performing vital functions of their jobs. The registrar, who should be the campus’s FERPA expert, must then be the person to determine to whom is given what SIS access and must also provide training in the proper handling of sensitive student information. Also, the registrar, or someone on his or her staff, is most likely in the best position to train individuals from other offices in the use of the system and to suggest to the system administrator or the software vendor improvements to the system.

In short, states David Lanier, "The registrar must become the Renaissance manager, a person whose knowledge spans computer software, hardware, statistical analysis, accounting, quality service management, labor relations, human psychology, and motivation theory. The registrar is vital to an institution’s ability to meet its educational mission."

In this paper, I hope to have shed some light on how and when the registrar’s profession began and traced some of the changes it has undergone, as well as given some attention to the role of the registrar in today’s academy. It is my hope that by "looking backward to look forward" – borrowed from the theme of the 1999 MSACROA (Middle States Association of Collegiate Registrars and Officers of Admissions) Annual Meeting, at which this paper was originally presented - I have offered some useful professional perspective.

 Karla Leybold-Taylor, November, 1999

Return to my home page.