Why do museums still collect?

Today is my birthday, and instead of counting candles, I’m thinking about the future — and about something that has shaped my career and still defines great museums: the power of the permanent collection.

Museums continue to collect — often at an accelerating pace. Yet in many institutions, fewer of those collections are on view. It raises a simple question: why collect if the public rarely sees what is collected? This is not a challenge unique to any one institution, but a broader question facing collecting institutions everywhere.

Walk into almost any museum today and you will encounter a mix of exhibitions — some drawn from the permanent collection, others organized as temporary or travelling shows. For most visitors, the distinction is not always clear. What matters most is the experience: the art, the objects and the encounter with culture.

Collecting museums are defined by their holdings — built over decades, sometimes centuries, shaped by curators, donors, artists and communities. They represent long-term commitments to preservation, scholarship and public access. Temporary exhibitions, by contrast, rotate. They bring new ideas, fresh perspectives and contemporary voices. They generate excitement and attendance.

But on their own, they are not the foundation. The permanent collection provides continuity and depth.

I learned this lesson early in my career. My first job interview for a curatorial post took place in the collection galleries of the National Gallery of Canada, just weeks before I defended my doctoral dissertation at McGill University. I met Catherine Johnston, senior curator of European art, and we headed directly to the galleries and talked about objects, interpretation and the responsibilities of care.

That interview stayed with me because it underscored something essential: permanent collections are not simply part of a museum — they help define its purpose. They are where curators learn their craft, where visitors return over time and where institutions develop their identity. In my curatorial posts at the National Gallery, the Allen Art Museum at Oberlin College and the Ringling Museum of Art in Sarasota, I continued developing the skills to help shape visitor experiences through the objects on display.

The design of the National Gallery of Canada reflects this philosophy. Approximately 70 per cent of gallery space is dedicated to the collection — Canadian, Indigenous, European and American art — while roughly 30 per cent is devoted to temporary exhibitions. The building reinforces a long-standing principle: temporary shows bring change and energy, but the collection provides continuity and identity. At the Ringling Museum of Art, the ratio closely mirrors that of the National Gallery.

Museum holdings are much more than groups of objects. They are carefully shaped bodies of knowledge, built through research and engagement with artists and communities. Over time, they become one of the most distinctive and valuable assets an institution holds.

Without collections, museums risk becoming exhibition venues — places that borrow ideas rather than shape them. Collections allow institutions to interpret culture, engage communities and tell stories over time. They reflect how museums evolve in response to changing ideas, reconciliation, accessibility and representation. They also reveal the gaps, oversights and missed opportunities — the good and the bad — that help institutions learn, evolve and better reflect the communities they serve.

More than 850 million people visit museums in the United States every year — surpassing attendance at professional sporting events and theme parks combined. Close to 10 million people wait in line each year to see the Mona Lisa in the Louvre. Museums are not peripheral institutions. They are central to cultural life and increasingly important to education, economic development and community engagement.

Permanent collections also play a critical role in education. Teachers and students rely on museums as classroom extensions. When parts of a collection remain consistently on view, educators can plan curriculum months in advance. School groups return to the same galleries. University courses build assignments around specific works. Students encounter original objects rather than reproductions.

Audiences also develop relationships with permanent collections in ways that temporary exhibitions rarely allow. People return to the same galleries, the same spaces and sometimes even the same artworks. These encounters become part of personal and collective memory. Children return as adults. Students revisit works encountered years earlier. Visitors become members and develop a sense of belonging.

These relationships create continuity. Over time, they build familiarity, trust and shared ownership — qualities that strengthen museums and deepen their connection to communities.

Of course, no museum can display everything at once. Many collections number in the thousands — often tens of thousands. Conservation requirements are real. Works must rotate. Gallery space is finite. Artist reproduction rights and copyright fees must be honoured. All of these factors shape the rhythm of displays.

But this reality makes dedicated collection galleries even more important. Otherwise, collections risk becoming invisible assets — owned by the public, but rarely seen by them.

Museums must ensure that meaningful portions of their collections remain visible and accessible. When this balance is achieved, collections become living resources — not only for curators and researchers, but for students, educators, members and visitors.

This responsibility is tied to the public trust. Collections are built through public funding, philanthropy and community support. Artists and collectors place their work in the care of institutions, often with the expectation that it will be preserved, studied and shared. When collections disappear from view, that trust begins to erode.

They reflect who we are. They reveal where we have been. They direct us to places we have not yet gone. They help shape where we are going.

Museums collect for the future.

But they exist for the public — and the public deserves to see what belongs to them.

Stephen Borys is president and CEO of Civic Muse, and former director and CEO of the Winnipeg Art Gallery–Qaumajuq.