Sorry, but this census thing continues to intrigue me.

The census has changed since 1851 when it was first administered in pre-confederation Canada, but it has never been limited to simple questions about name, age, sex and place of residence. That early census asked about: occupation, religion, marital status, race (“coloured” or “Native”), education level, and infirmities (blind, deaf and dumb, or lunatic). It also asked many questions about physical dwelling space (construction materials, number of stories, number of families residing there, etc.). In 1861 “mulatto” was added to race options, “idiot” to infirmities, and literacy to education (persons over 20 who could not read and write). In 1871 the census asked no questions about race and asked only if one was “of unsound mind”. But it divided the literacy question into “cannot read”, “cannot write”.

In 1901 immigration and naturalization questions were introduced, and detailed employment questions were added. French and English were distinguished, and the category “from childhood” added to infirmaries. In 1911 the census was expanded again to include more employment details, and Infirmities were detailed as: blind, deaf and dumb, crazy or lunatic, idiotic or silly. And in 1916 mother tongue was added, reflecting the increased immigration from various parts of the world.

In 1971 major changes were made. The census was divided into a short form comprised of basic population questions plus nine housing questions, and a long form comprised of the short form questions plus an additional twenty housing question and thirty socio-economic questions. The former was sent to 2/3 of Canadian households; the latter to the remaining 1/3. Also, for the first time, in response to privacy concerns, people were allowed to fill out the questionnaire themselves rather than having to report their answers to a census worker.

In 1996 the short form was reduced in size and new questions were added to the long form including Aboriginal identity, population group, household activities or unpaid work, and mode of transportation to work. That year 80% of Canadian households were to complete the short questionnaire which now had only seven questions, while the remaining 20% completed the long questionnaire with fifty-five questions. 2001 saw questions about common-law relationships introduced, and in 2006 same-sex marriages and common-law relationships were added.

The census, as we might expect, has evolved over time. We no longer use the words “idiot”, “lunatic”, at least on official forms, we self report, and we sample 20% of households for most questions rather than requiring all households to answer all questions. These changes reflect shifting social attitudes and developments in the science of demographics. And every change has been accompanied by concern for the quality and continuity of the data. But changes have, and always will come.

Today the concern is about privacy (the right of individuals to refuse to answer questions they consider too personal or overly intrusive). – Not to be confused with confidentiality (the right of individuals to limit the sharing of their personal data once it has been collected). – And the privacy concern is not just about whether people should be allowed to withhold information, but the fact that an increasing number of people do withhold it. In the 2006 census 168,000 households refused to submit the form and many thousands submitted blatantly dubious data, claiming to be Jedi Knights for example. Indeed, one of the problems with compulsory surveys is that false answers are often submitted precisely because blanks are not allowed.

Personally I think it’s time for the politicians in Ottawa to give the whole matter a rethink. Do we need to force people to answer questions they do not want to answer? Do we need to simplify the process? Should we make the entire census, the long and the short of it, voluntary? In this day of constant data gathering, do we even need a census? StatsCan says we do, and the Brita folks say we need to filter the water, but I’m not so sure.

You never really know when a question is going to offend somebody.

We were all sitting at the dining room table on some family occasion when my aunt – the one who kept the journal and solved the riddle of my little brother’s birthday – turned to me and asked, “How old are you Danny?”. “Twelve,”, I replied, “how old are you?”. The assembled multitude gasped. Everybody knew I had offended against propriety by asking a personal question of an elder. There was nothing wrong with the question per se, just that the age of my mother’s sister was none of my business. And my aunt replied, chuckling, “I’m forty-nine.”

I discovered two things that day. First, intrusiveness, like beauty, is in the eye of the beholder. My mother and most everyone including me, thought I’d overstepped the line, but my aunt didn’t mind a bit. And second, big people can ask little people anything they like. No one had been shocked at my aunt’s question.

Now, I understand that some of you are tired of the subject of the long form census. Well, I’m tired of people who tire so easily, but I won’t mention it if you don’t. And I will try to make this my last comment on the subject, though I have requested to appear before the House of Commons Committee that’s considering the matter, and might want to let you know how that goes.

Anyway, in 1996 I declined to answer the question about my race, and I would like to explain my reason for doing so. It’s generally assumed that privacy is the only consideration in refusing to answer a question, but this is a case where privacy was not the concern. The truth is, I am offended that our government continues to attempt to sort Canadians into racial groups.

I believe race is an ancient superstition that has persisted into modern times. It has caused untold suffering throughout the ages, culminating in the most genocidal century in history. And it is high time that we put an end to this meaningless and offensive way of sorting people.

Of course the genes for skin, eye and hair colour, and for facial features and head shape, are not evenly distributed throughout the world’s population. But these differences tell us nothing of any importance about an individual. If they matter at all it is only because they are ancient caste marks used to stratify society. As such, they should be of no more significance than one’s astrological sign or whether one was born in the year of the monkey or the pig. Race and astrology are fine for small talk at a party, but not for governing in a modern, liberal democracy.

It can be interesting to learn that this or that person is descended from sub-Saharan Africans, the people of China or South East Asia, the Celts of Northern Europe, or Australian bushmen. But I don’t need to know these things to serve you or treat you with respect. And neither does the Government of Canada. And besides, with all of the mixing that’s gone for millennia, when it comes to our race, many of us are just guessing.

But if we really must ask, how about this for a question? On a scale of 1 (black) to 100 (white), what are you? Personally I think I’m about a 55 in the summer and a 63 in the winter. But, then again, what do I know?.

If you are interested in the subject of race and have an hour or so to spend stretching your mind, click on THE CONCEPT OF RACE by Richard Lewontin. It’s a lecture about genetics, with lots of challenging numbers, but very enlightening.

THAT OLD FEELING

Today is my little brother’s 111^th birthday. I think that’s pretty special, so I sent him a birthday greeting. It’s hard to find a card for an occasion like that, so it had to be an email. And in a few days I’ll have an opportunity to say happy 112^th. Allow me to explain.

When he was a young man, sixteen or seventeen I suppose, he sent away for his birth certificate and received a little card from Statistics Canada informing him that he’d been born on August 12. Well, my mother knew better, we all knew better, his birthday was the 17^th and always had been. Mom complained bitterly, but she soon discovered you can’t beat Stats-Can. Eventually my Aunt Eleanor, who had kept a detailed journal for years, came to the rescue and established beyond a doubt that he’d actually been born on the 12^th. O well, Mama had eight kids, so we all laughed, teased her mercilessly, cut her some slack eventually, and moved on. And my little brother became the only person I know of, besides the Queen of England, who has two birthdays every year.

Well, when he responded to my greeting he reflected a little upon the feeling and lack of feeling of ageing, and he asked me an interesting question. “How old do you feel?” My response was in two parts as follows:

OLD – I think age is a "useful" statistic that doesn't really tell us very much. It's like all the other "useful" labels: race, ethnicity, religion, orientation, etc. They tell others a lot of very "useful" stuff about us, but much of it isn't true.

FEEL – Sometimes I feel a little: stiff in the mornings, tired in the evenings, lost in restaurant conversations, nervous on skates, inspired by young people, frustrated by people my own age, sentimental about pictures of my kids when they were little, fulfilled by my grandchildren, astounded that I'm married to a grandmother, and amazed at how good she still looks after all these years. But I never feel 62. As far as I'm concerned 62 is not a feeling, condition, limitation or value. It's just a number, albeit a somewhat humbling number, as it reminds me just how long it has taken me to learn so many simple and obvious things.

Now it’s your turn.

How old do you feel?

Submit a comment and let’s learn a little bit about one another.

Just what is the matter here?

The second question Anonymous raises, “Why don't you focus on things that actually matter?”, is also worth pondering. The obvious answer is, “It does matter to me.” And that, together with the fact that it doesn’t matter to Anonymous, tells us more about me and Anon than about what matters. Personally I think it’s baseball and ballet that don’t matter, but they’ve mattered to millions of people for a long time -- baseball for decades and ballet for centuries -- so I’m clearly the oddball. But that’s not the end of it.

There was a time, not all that long ago, when neither baseball nor ballet mattered to anyone. Then they mattered to a few people, and now to millions. All because the people who thought they mattered encouraged others to think so too. It’s the story of human development and civilization.

On November 8, 1946, Viola Desmond, a 32-year-old Halifax beautician, went to a movie theatre in New Glasgow, Nova Scotia, and took a seat in a section reserved for Caucasians. When she refused to move or leave the theatre she was arrested, spent the night in jail, and was fined $20 plus $6 court costs.

Now, some people at the time probably felt, and likely said, that she was making a big deal out of nothing. Who cares where you sit in a movie theatre? Why not just move as dozens have before you? Why lose a night’s freedom and $26, embarrass your friends and family, and cause a big scene over something that doesn’t matter. But because she did this, and because others did similar things, no one would say that today. Today it obviously matters, because it first mattered to her.

Seat belts, ingredients on food packaging, universal health care, sterile surgical practices, rock ‘n’ roll, universal education, childproof lighters and pill bottles, habeas corpus, picking up your dog-droppings, and a hundred thousand other things that make our lives better today started with a few people thinking they mattered when most people didn’t.

We need to understand that the long form census is not what matters here, any more than getting a good seat for that movie was what mattered to Ms. Desmond. The census is merely the event that has raised the concern; actually two concerns.

1. Who decides where to draw the line between your public life and your private life?

2. Do we have a right to expect that the state will provide clear and compelling reasons for the use of coercion on it’s citizens?

If the concept of privacy means anything, YOU must be the answer to the first question. If the concepts of freedom and security mean anything, YES must be the answer to the second.

Privacy is essential to the development and maintenance of an independent citizenry, and, therefore, to a democratic society. Serious limitations on the coercive powers of the state are essential to freedom and security. And the development and maintenance of a free and democratic society matters.