The issue of census-taking first appears in Jewish history as a necessity to ascertain how many men of fighting age were available. In the wilderness, Moses was commanded to count military-age males after the episode of Baal Peor. It followed the plague that broke out among the rebellious Israelites.
This census went better than that of King David, whose aim was to determine the available manpower for his wars, creating a sort of egalitarian press-gang. Deemed a sin, the upstart action was followed by a plague.
In other words, a biblical census was for two things only: taxes and war.
We’ve come a long way since then. Determinedly numerate, we in today’s world need demographic information at our fingertips not for taxation or conscription, but for society’s many contemporary needs, be they financial, economic, planning, welfare – the works.
It’s needed for research infrastructure as well as to understand immigration pattern changes; families (constitution of, living conditions, birth/death ratios, etc.); income; poverty levels; labour trends, economic trends, such as where people work; what they earn and what that buys; and health data, both national and local.
The Canadian census was a formidable tool in planning for a healthier, more equitable society, when governments, business and social agencies used it. In other words, it made possible a civil society that tried, at least, to look after its own – us, that is, as we went about having families, working, saving money (or not), educating ourselves and our children, looking after the poor, and integrating immigrants rather than demonizing the unfamiliar.
Sadly, a truculent federal government decision cut away at this resource until it bled, and it continues to bleed. With the demise of the obligatory long-form census, we stumble in the (data) dark.
The 2011 census, diminished by elimination of the mandatory long form, has seen a decrease in the quantity and quality of data. In 2006, the response rate was 94 per cent, but it dropped to 69 per cent in 2011.
We have lost information about pensions, technology and training (the Workplace and Employee Survey); a study of children since 1994 that followed their development and well-being from birth to adulthood (National Longitudinal Survey of Children and Youth); and information on the economic well-being of Canadians, with insight into low-income families (Survey of Labour and Income Dynamics).
Another significant loss is the Lifepaths Database. Since 1971, it has been used to track – and predict – the impact of public policies on pensions, education and health for various segments of our population. This database has been suspended and is, therefore, now useless.
Why should we as Jews even care? In the past, many Jewish agencies have been able to use census data as an indispensable agent for planning community services. We still have some idea of the state of Canadian Jewry from 2011, due to excellent federation staff both locally and nationally. We’ve done the best we can with what we have. Thanks to all of you.
But the wider Canadian public is less and less likely to have public policy decisions made on the basis of data, rather than the ideology of any current government. And this directly contradicts one of the fundamental principles of Jewish ethics: to make sure that every segment of society is cared for, whether we are talking about seniors’ home care, children living in poverty, working families struggling to educate their children, aboriginal health, and a host of other populations and ages.
Without these sources of information, we cannot live up to the ideals mandated by Torah. Here, ignorance is not bliss. It is, to our shame, the opposite of a just, mitzvah-inspired community.
