The notwithstanding clause of the Canadian Charter is no longer an obscure legal term. Thanks to Ontario Premier Doug Ford’s recent use of Section 33 to prevent job action by education workers – he has invoked the clause, or threatened to do so, three times in four years – ordinary Canadians now know that their basic human rights can be suspended at any time. We aren’t talking about emergency measures here, nor are we discussing reasonable limits through democratic mechanisms; ours is the only constitutional democracy that potentially allows for the gutting of basic rights in the name of what a parliamentary majority deems a matter of governance.
Who could have foreseen the consequences of this clause?
Well, Canadian women, for one.
When the Charter was being drafted, women demanded equality rights – but they were derided at committee hearings for doing so. In 1980, Senator Harry Hays derisively countered by suggesting special rights for babies and children, since “all you girls will be out working and we’re not going to have anybody to look after them.” A year later, more than 1,300 women descended on Parliament Hill to assert equality rights in the Constitution, by affirming Section 15 on general equality and proposing Section 28, on gender equality rights.
Initially, the notwithstanding clause could have been used on Section 28, too. But women fought for its exclusion, having had the foresight to ensure that gender equality rights could not be denied by the potential whims of future governments. We owe them a great deal.
And yet, today, we see the Constitution’s notwithstanding clause leading to disproportionate damage to Muslim women in Quebec.
François Legault’s government has pre-emptively used the notwithstanding clause twice since 2019, to ensure the passage of two bills. One of them, Bill 21, bans some public-sector workers from wearing religious symbols, but lawyers have provided evidence at the Quebec Court of Appeal – which heard a legal challenge to the bill this month – that only Muslim women who wear the hijab have lost their jobs as a result of it.
Indeed, Quebec’s religious minorities have felt increased alienation and despair in recent years, according to the Association for Canadian Studies. Its survey found that the situation is particularly dire for Muslim women: 73 per cent of them said they’ve felt less safe in public since 2019, while 83 per cent said their confidence in their children’s future has worsened.
The Quebec government touted Bill 21 as a “feminist” law, but it has only reinforced prejudices, and given license to bigots. I know this firsthand: During a visit to Montreal, I was berated by a middle-aged francophone Uber driver for wearing the hijab. At the end of the ride, he asked me not to file a complaint. (Of course, I did the opposite.)
This all illustrates Bill 21′s egregious violation of Section 28 of the Charter – namely, that the law disproportionately affects women, and thus violates gender equality. Since the notwithstanding clause cannot override Section 28, Bill 21 could be seen by the courts as invalid – an argument that University of New Brunswick law professor Kerri Froc raised years ago, and is now gaining traction.
Quebec Muslim women are not wilting. They have protested alongside allies who believe in a Quebec where all individuals can thrive. Take, for example, Institut F, a Montreal-based organization that seeks to ensure Muslim women’s personal agency. Its programs provide resources so that each woman knows that she belongs, her voice matters and she is a valued member of society – even if the Quebec government thinks otherwise. At a recent Institut event, I met talented Muslim women in STEM fields such as artificial intelligence, biotechnology and data science – talent that Quebec needs to remain economically competitive. Yet, many of those women expressed doubts about thriving in a society that overtly discriminates against religious minorities.
Something may have to give on this front, too. The labour shortage is so acute in Quebec that the town of Hérouxville – infamous for issuing a code of conduct for immigrants warning them not to stone or burn women alive – is now actively courting newcomers. Today, neighbouring towns are helping migrants find halal food. Economic reality will force the realization that attracting workers means making all feel welcome – not just a select few.
Bill 21’s damage has been done – abetted by the notwithstanding clause. The women who fought to exclude Section 28 from the clause knew its dangers. As Canadians, we must continue that fight to guarantee basic rights for all, be they religious and linguistic minorities in Quebec, education workers in Ontario, or anyone threatened by the notwithstanding clause.
Overwrought worries on inclusive language, even if excesses occur. Language usage evolves, and French is no exception. Remember in my high school days when debate was over he/she rather than just he:
La récente publication sur le Web des Lignes directrices de l’écriture inclusive par le Bureau de la traduction du gouvernement fédéral donne à lire un document comportant plusieurs dizaines de pages d’instructions et se revendiquant de six grands principes « qui devraient guider l’application des différents procédés d’écriture inclusive ». Ne nous y trompons pas : le ton est directif, à preuve l’emploi répété de l’infinitif injonctif, par exemple, « Respecter les préférences des personnes concernées ». L’objectif inavoué est le reformatage en profondeur de la culture et de la conscience collectives de la population francophone du Canada, entre autres, pour qu’elle se plie aux exigences des minorités qui désormais nous gouvernent. Une acculturation à l’envers de la majorité, en quelque sorte.
Or surtout, n’allez pas croire que l’écriture inclusive se veut une réforme de l’orthographe. Celle-ci est souhaitable, sans être vraiment nécessaire, mais celle-là est une véritable manipulation des esprits. Autant la féminisation des noms de métier et des titres, par exemple, s’avère conforme à nos valeurs d’égalité et de démocratie, autant l’intrusion de la diversité dans le code écrit relève d’une démarche totalitaire qui vous enjoint de communiquer pour qu’une « personne se sente respectée ». Mais de quoi je me mêle ? J’ai le droit de respecter qui je veux et je ne suis pas responsable de la sensibilité des autres. J’en suis le seul juge et je l’assume.
À cette offensive idéologique du multiculturalisme canadien se joint le volumineux document contenant les directives, plus nuancées, faut-il admettre, de l’Office québécois de la langue française. Celui-ci s’articule en quatre volets : rédaction épicène, formulation neutre, rédaction non binaire et écriture inclusive. Le moindre qu’on puisse dire, c’est que ces organismes officiels mettent le paquet pour parvenir à leurs fins. Au lieu de simplifier l’enseignement du français et de le rendre plus attrayant, ces documents gouvernementaux sont « toxiques » parce qu’ils ne feront qu’empoisonner la vie des enseignants et de nos élèves en rendant cette matière scolaire encore plus rébarbative qu’on le dit.
Au fond, ces deux entreprises ne font que perpétuer le même esprit de normativité que celui qui était dévolu à l’Académie française, fondée en 1634 et si décriée par certains (et certaines, cela va de soi) « réformistes » d’aujourd’hui. La différence de contexte est pourtant énorme. Au début du XVIIe siècle, la langue française du pouvoir royal visait à rallier la diversité dialectale de la France en la dotant d’une langue commune qui n’existait toujours pas malgré l’ordonnance de Villers-Cotterêts proclamée presque cent ans plus tôt par François Ier en 1539. De nos jours, la diversité constitutionnelle fait peser l’anathème de la discrimination sur l’individu qui écrit dans une langue française traditionnelle enfin devenue commune depuis deux cents ans. Il ne s’agit plus de politique linguistique, mais de religion.
En effet, l’écriture traditionnelle en langue française serait devenue discriminatoire en vertu de la croyance religieuse qui définit « la nouvelle culture de l’offense » faite au prochain, comme l’écrit si bien Salman Rushdie. Le masculin est une offense au féminin. Le genre est une offense à la non-binarité. Son accord par défaut est une offense à la diversité. L’épicène est la rédemption de toutes les dénominations. L’offense présumée est ainsi devenue le fonds de commerce de la bigoterie communautariste anglo-américaine qui déferle sur le monde entier, et non pas seulement occidental, grâce à l’argent des églises évangélique, baptiste, catholique, pentecôtiste, méthodiste, et sectes affiliées, dont le zèle apostolique fournit le terreau nécessaire à la diffusion de l’islamisme radical et mortifère soutenu par les pétrodollars des monarchies musulmanes.
Il s’agit ni plus ni moins que d’enfoncer à travers la gorge des ignorants les pratiques d’écriture de la bienséance diversitaire. Le stratagème est vieux comme le monde : se servir du pouvoir pour culpabiliser quiconque déroge aux normes que ce pouvoir édicte en matière de langue, de langage, de communication et de grammaire. Aussi l’écriture inclusive adopte-t-elle le procès d’intention pour fondement de sa mise en oeuvre. Une plaie « censurielle », comme au temps de l’affaire Calas rendue célèbre par Voltaire. […]
Ne pas écrire selon les nouvelles normes de la bienséance linguistique fera de vous un être qui adhère à « toute forme de discrimination fondée sur le sexe, le genre, l’orientation sexuelle, la race, l’origine ethnique, les handicaps », y compris « tout autre facteur identitaire ». La langue française définissant l’identité d’un francophone, écrire en langue française traditionnelle, c’est-à-dire non conforme à l’écriture inclusive, fait de vous par défaut un délinquant ou une délinquante « normatif.ve ».
Bref, ne pas écrire en écriture inclusive vous relègue dans le camp du racisme si vous dérogez au « Principe 4 : Faire des choix représentatifs de la diversité ». Voilà comment s’y prend l’idéologie diversitaire pour formater l’esprit du scripteur (ou de la scriptrice, cela va de soi) idéal.e (faut-il préciser ?). Écrire selon les règles traditionnelles laisse donc entendre que vous ne respectez pas votre destinataire, comme si vous ne connaissiez rien d’autre que Twitter, Facebook, Snapchat ou TikTok.
Over the past decade, the Muslim community has become included in diversity initiatives in the United States. Hollywood is finally producing shows that feature Muslim characters, such as Hulu’s Ramy, Netflix’s Mo, and Disney+’s Ms. Marvel. Universities are adjusting dining hall hours to accommodate Muslim students who fast during Ramadan, and they are increasing the number of reflection spaces on campus to facilitate Muslim ritual prayer. Nike launched its Pro Hijab, a headscarf for Muslim women athletes, and Olympic medalist Ibtihaj Muhammad became its model. Muhammad also served as the inspiration for the first Muslim Barbie doll.
These initiatives enhance our sense of belonging as Muslims in the U.S.—but they are not enough to actually challenge Islamophobia.
How did Muslims come to be included in diversity plans in the U.S.? My research shows that this happened in the wake of crises, or moments that made it clear that Islamophobia was a problem. Diversity initiatives born out of crisis can produce important social change, but responding to a momentary flare up as opposed to longstanding structural inequality limits the extent of possible change. Social change requires addressing the root of the problem primarily located in a history of U.S. foreign policies that dehumanize Muslims.
Islamophobia, itself, is far from new. Scholars trace forms of it as far back as the 7th century, with the emergence of Islam as a religion. But the term found new popularity in the late 20th century. Many point to the 1997 report published by the Runnymede Trust in the UK as the first influential use of the word Islamophobia, since it was the first to highlight it as a social problem. But the term did not enter the U.S. lexicon until about a decade after 9/11.
But in the 2010’s, as the nation grappled with a history of racism and inequality, a new rubric of “diversity, equity, and inclusion” created an opening for Muslims to be seen as a beleaguered minority. Muslims became included in conceptions of diversity and social justice through a series of crises, such as the 2010 “ground zero mosque” controversy, the establishment of the Islamophobia Industry, and Donald Trump’s 2015 announcement to ban Muslims from entering the U.S.
These moments led to widespread recognition that Muslims are demonized and targets of individual hate and repressive state policies. This phenomenon is a prime example of crisis diversity—where a precipitating event leads to the recognition of racism or discrimination and an ensuing flurry of concerted action.
Crisis diversity produces a domino effect of responses: The general public becomes aware of a long-standing problem (Islamophobia); people of that particular identity group (Muslims and experts on Islam) are called upon to urgently educate the public and advise leaders on how to make changes; media conglomerates, corporations, universities, and other organizations respond by issuing statements or embarking on new diversity initiatives. The crisis moment then passes, and little attention is paid to the issue until the next crisis emerges, restarting the cycle.
Crisis diversity is not solely a response to Islamophobia. One need only look at how the police killing of George Floyd in the spring of 2020 led to nationwide protests, reigniting public debate about police brutality and putting anti-Black racism firmly on the agenda of the criminal justice system, as well as universities and a wide array of corporations and industries. That same year, the football team the Washington Redskins was finally renamed the Washington Commanders after decades of refusing to change the name, despite protests from American Indian communities. NASCAR finally banned use of the Confederate flag, and Quaker Oats finally retired its brand based on the Aunt Jemima racial stereotype. At the same time, the number of Black people killed by police has not decreased.
In similar, yet distinct ways, Islamophobia is discovered anew each time an instance of it manages to capture public attention. How much social change is accomplished through these crises-responses is varied and debatable.
For Muslims, crisis gave us Mo and Ms. Marvel. It gave us prayer rooms on college campuses. It gave us Rashida Tlaib and Ilhan Omar, the first Muslim women in Congress. These progress markers are an important start; however, the crisis-response approach is limiting. While Hollywood sticks it to Trump by finally including Muslims in roles that have nothing to do with terrorism, it does so without acknowledging how the industry itself has demonized Muslims for over a century.
Perpetrators of hate crimes against Muslims are given life sentences, without addressing how the same criminal justice system subjects Muslims to surveillance, deportation, and detention, that fuel hate crime violence. Racial and religious stereotypes are also used to criminalize Muslim men. Prosecutors used Adnan Syed’s identity as Pakistani and Muslim to argue that his religion and culture influenced him to murder his 18-year-old girlfriend, Hae Min Lee, and be prone to violence. In Sept. 2022, after spending over two decades of a life-in-prison sentence for murder, robbery, kidnapping, and false imprisonment, the charges were dropped, and Syed was released.
Crisis diversity focuses our attention on only the most overt, public, and often seemingly sudden expressions of racism, obscuring its longevity and reach well beyond crisis moments. In doing so, it obscures the enduring causes of Islamophobia, rooted in national security policies that demonize Muslims.
Real change requires understanding and approaching the problem as part of longstanding practices that will not evaporate with quick fixes during momentary crises. It requires a paradigm shift in our understanding of the problem and its magnitude. If leaders in Hollywood, corporations, universities, and the government consistently considered the long history of inequality in the U.S. when devising solutions (rather than responding to a momentary crisis), a more just and inclusive future would be possible.
Of note. For those worried about AI, an illustration of where it can reduce discrimination:
“Atlanta’s black neighbourhoods are under attack.” So wrote the editors of the Atlanta Journal-Constitution in May of 1988 upon the release of “The Colour of Money”, a series of articles documenting racial disparities in mortgage lending in Georgia’s most populous city. The Pulitzer Prize-winning investigation, which analysed $6bn-worth of home loans made over six years, found that Atlanta banks made five times as many loans to white neighbourhoods as black ones, and rejected black applicants four times as often. The reaction was swift. Demonstrators marched through bank lobbies, the naacp urged black residents to withdraw their bank deposits and the Justice Department launched an investigation into discriminatory lending practices. Listen to this story.
Much has changed in the 35 years since “The Colour of Money”, and yet racial disparities in mortgage lending remain. Data reported under the Home Mortgage Disclosure Act (hmda) show that 15% of black applicants were denied conventional mortgage loans in 2021, compared with just 6% of white applicants, a ratio of more than two-to-one. Black homeowners seeking to refinance their existing loans were rejected 24% of the time, compared with 12% of the time for whites. Some lenders have been singled out. A recent analysis by Bloomberg News found that Wells Fargo, a bank, approved less than half of refinancing applications filed by black homeowners in 2020, compared with nearly three-quarters of those filed by white customers.
To many Americans, such wide discrepancies in lending are proof of discrimination. A survey conducted in 2020 by the Pew Research Centre, a think-tank, found that 49% of American adults—and 86% of African-Americans—believe that black people are treated less fairly than white people when applying for a mortgage. But bankers have long argued that imbalances in mortgage approval rates reflect underlying differences in creditworthiness, not racial bias. Indeed African-Americans fare significantly worse than whites on several key lending criteria. Credit scores of black borrowers, for example, are about 8% lower than those of white borrowers. Their debt-to-income levels, meanwhile, are about 10% higher. Black borrowers have much higher loan delinquency rates, too.
For decades the conventional wisdom was that both economic factors and discrimination played a role in lending patterns. A seminal study by economists at the Federal Reserve Bank of Boston, published in the American Economic Review in 1996, analysed nearly 3,000 loan applications submitted to Boston-area lenders in 1990. The researchers found that credit histories, debt-to-income ratios, loan-to-value ratios, and other strictly economic factors explained more than half of the difference in denial rates between black and white applicants. But race mattered, too. Even after accounting for their creditworthiness, black mortgage applicants were rejected about 1.8 times as often as whites.
But new research by economists at the Federal Reserve Board suggests that such discrimination is less widespread than it was 30 years ago.* Using a dataset of nearly 9m loan applications submitted in 2018 and 2019, the authors found that 17% of black applicants were turned down, compared with 8% of white applicants. But after controlling for the results of automated underwriting systems, which reflect the underwriting guidelines of government-sponsored entities like Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac, and cannot take race into account, this gap was cut in half. After other relevant risk characteristics such as credit scores were controlled for, this figure fell to less than two points—a result that the authors describe as “significant progress”.
What explains the improvement? Laurie Goodman of the Urban Institute, a think-tank, says that the decline of manual underwriting is one factor. “I’m sure automated underwriting, where very little is done manually, has made a difference because it leaves less discretion.” Stricter enforcement of the Fair Housing Act and the Equal Credit Opportunity Act, which prohibit discrimination in lending on the basis of race, is another. Last year the Justice Department launched an effort to crack down on “redlining” by financial institutions—the practice of denying credit to particular neighbourhoods. Since then the department has reported four lawsuits and settlements worth a combined $38m.
Experts point out that although mortgage underwriting systems are becoming less biased, the data fed into them may still reflect historical discrimination. These data can be improved, says Ms Goodman. “If the issue is credit scores, let’s figure out how to make credit scores better and more reflective of people’s true creditworthiness.” Overall, though, the picture is one of progress. “I think it’s fair to say that there’s still some discrimination, but it’s not very common,” says John Yinger, an economics professor at Syracuse University. ■
On the face of it, the fledgling organization’s goals seem innocuous enough — to encourage Chinese-Canadians to run for elected office and vote in elections. The Chinese Council for Western Ontario Elections says it wants to be an “incubator” for candidates who support the community’s interests and educate newcomers about Canadian democracy.
But the council’s links to groups that are closely aligned with the Chinese government — and possibly to a Chinese police station here — are raising concerns amid growing debate about Beijing’s alleged interference in Canadian politics.The council — launched at a formal event in Mississauga on Sunday — is headed by businessman Guo BaoZhang.
Guo is also executive president of the Canada Toronto Fuqing Business Association, named after a city in China’s Fujian province. Its own website says it was set up under the guidance of the United Front Work Department (UFWD) — a branch of the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) whose mission is in part to extend Beijing’s influence worldwide.
The association is also named as the owner of units in a Markham, Ont., commercial building that media in China say is the site of one of three Fujian “police service stations” in the province. The same address is listed on the association website as its own location. The RCMP has said it’s investigating the stations, amid fears they could be used to intimidate Chinese expatriates here.
Two of the Fuqing group’s three honorary leaders are Weng Guoning and Wei Chengyi, the current president and honorary chair of the Confederation of Toronto Chinese Canadian Organizations (CTCCO), a group that has long worked with the city’s Chinese consulate to promote Beijing’s positions on contentious issues.
The CTCCO’s Weng is also featured in multiple photographs of the election council’s launch event on Sunday and gave a speech at the ceremony. Someone by his name is listed as a director of another, related elections group.
There’s no indication the council will break any law, but Chinese-Canadian critics of the CCP say the connections are clear, and worrying.
“They are by and large an extension of the apparatus of Beijing,” alleged Karen Woods, founder of the independent Canadian Chinese Political Affairs Committee. “I definitely think this is an area where our security agencies or the police should pay close attention.”
Woods once worked for a lobby firm that represented China’s Toronto consulate, before growing disenchanted with Beijing. Her association touts itself as being independent of China and opposed to foreign interference in elections.
“This really is like an ideological invasion,” said Jonathan Fon, a Toronto paralegal and outspoken critic of the Chinese government, about the new group. “I think that undermines our national security, our social security.”Guo could not be reached for comment by deadline Thursday.
But according to a Chinese-language news report on Sunday’s gathering, the council’s head said its goal was simply to “introduce Canadian democracy to the Chinese community, to help Chinese Canadians better understand Canadian elections, participate in the democratic process, and participate actively in elections.”
“We support candidates of any race, as long as they advocate democratic equality, oppose racial discrimination and support multiculturalism,” Guo is quoted as saying. “We are willing to share our network resources with them to help them gain recognition and support from Chinese voters.”The council was launched as China’s alleged interference in Canadian politics becomes a burning topic on Parliament Hill, with opposition MPs grilling the Liberals on the issue repeatedly recently.
Some of the attention was prompted by a Global News report that said the Canadian Security Intelligence Service had briefed the Prime Minister’s Office in January about a Chinese program that gave money to 11 sympathetic candidates in the 2019 election, using a member of the Ontario legislature and community groups as go-betweens.
Prime Minister Justin Trudeau has denied he received such a briefing and says outside experts have concluded the last two elections unfolded fairly, but accused Beijing of playing “aggressive games” with Canada and other democracies. And he reportedly raised interference in a brief meeting with Chinese President Xi Jinping on the sidelines of the G20 meeting in Bali. China rejects suggestions it has intruded in any way.
The Western Ontario election council was registered as a federal non-profit corporation earlier this year. It appears to be an offshoot of the Chinese Council for Canadian Elections, which was registered in 2019. An individual with the same name as CTCCO president Weng is listed as one of that group’s three directors. Another of the three has the same family name and address.
A Chinese-language mission statement by the council obtained and translated by Fon says the group will abide by this country’s laws and constitution
The council will “support incubating Chinese ethnic candidates to participate in the election,” says the statement, adding that it would also back candidates of other ethnicities “who are friendly to the Chinese community” and promise “political views beneficial to the Chinese community after being elected.”
The United Front Work Department that provided “guidance” to Guo’s Fuqing business group was greatly expanded under Xi’s leadership. While it reportedly works closely with diaspora groups to promote China’s interests on issues like Tibet, the Muslim Uyghur minority and Taiwan, it also has an eye on politics in foreign countries.
A leaked handbook for United Front cadres even touted the fact that the number of politicians of Chinese descent elected in Toronto had almost doubled between 2003 and 2006, and urged officials to “work with” them.
The CTCCO, meanwhile, has been a reliable ally of the Chinese government. It ihas defended Beijing’s crackdown on democracy protesters in Hong Kong, while working with the local consulate to promote Beijing’s stance on Tibet, try to bring its Confucius Institute to Toronto schools and celebrate the 70th anniversary of the People’s Republic. Beijing’s Overseas Chinese Affairs Office praised the group on its website.
Honorary chairman Wei himself shook hands with Xi at a 2019 event in Beijing. The CTCCO website includes a profile of president Weng by the “propaganda department and the United Front Work Department of the Fuqing Municipal Party Committee.”
With those sorts of connections, it’s hard not to be wary of the new election council, said Cheuk Kwan of the Toronto Association for Democracy in China.
“I’m highly suspicious,” he said. “I would not be surprised if the Chinese consulate or Chinese government is heavily involved.”
It already is well entrenched at the federal and provincial levels and candidate nominations and members of legislatures and electoral strategies indicate. Todd’s points are based on municipal elections, where the general absence of parties and more locally-based and less sophisticated data analysis prevails:
In the U.S. polls are run constantly into the political preferences of voters based on ethnicity, in addition to gender, age, religion and other demographics.
Race-based politics has long been established in multi-ethnic cities like Chicago, New York and Miami. American pundits have also analyzed how religion and ethnicity combine, particularly since 1960 when 80 per cent of Catholics of European descent voted for John F. Kennedy.
With people of Hispanic, Black and Asian origins now accounting for more than 80 million Americans, politicians are not the only ones who find it valuable to keep up with scientific polling.
Polls generally show two thirds of Hispanic Americans vote Democrat, while one third lean Republican. Only one in 10 Black voters are Republican and just 26 per cent of Asian-Americans. About one third of people of European descent cast ballots for Democrats, and just over half go Republican.
Canadians are more shy about how ethnicity connects to politics. We don’t often learn about surveys that probe how minority groups tend to think about political issues.
When I’ve asked Canadian politicians if their party conducts private polling on ethnicity, they all say, of course they do: Race-based strategies are crucial to any campaign. But no party has ever handed me their internal data.
Political scientist Shinder Purewal of Kwantlen Polytechnic University has had a similar experience. “I’ve spoken to a number of pollsters and they’re very reluctant to give ethnic numbers, while they’ll give numbers in general.”
One recent exception to this hands-off Canadian approach was a poll by YouGov, which revealed that Indo Canadians lean liberal-left. More than 38 per cent of respondents said last year they would cast a vote for the Liberals — twice the number that planned to go with the Conservatives.
This fall, a Leger poll for Postmedia detailed how ethnic groups would affect October’s tide-shifting elections in the cities of Vancouver and Surrey.
Understanding the hopes and fears of ethnic groups can be a big political deal. In the city of Vancouver, 44 per of the population is of European descent, 20 per cent is of Chinese descent and 14 per cent are of South Asian descent. Indo Canadians are the largest group in Surrey, at 38 per cent compared to 33 per cent who are of European descent.
The Leger poll found the eventual winner in Vancouver, Ken Sim, who highlighted how he would be the city’s first Chinese Canadian mayor, appealed to 21 per cent of those of European ancestry, 15 per cent of South Asian voters and 35 per cent of those with Chinese roots.
Meanwhile, defeated mayor Kennedy Stewart — who was the last of an amazing streak of seven Vancouver mayors in a row of Scottish ancestry — appealed to 12 per cent of European-descent voters, 21 per cent of Indo Canadians and only five per cent of those of Chinese background.
Surrey was a different scenario. There, the three mayoral candidates who received the most votes are of European ancestry: Brenda Locke, Doug McCallum and Gordie Hogg. McCallum, the incumbent, did best in the districts that are overwhelmingly Punjabi, Purewal said.
“That tells you that people are actually paying attention to what politicians have to say, what they stand for,” Purewal said. “Many don’t care what (ethnic) flock you’re from.”
In Vancouver, what issues drew voters to Sim?
Housing affordability came out the top worry when Leger’s respondents named their top three issues: But that concern ran equally across ethnic lines.
Property taxes and spending were Vancouver residents’ third biggest issue, particularly since council had sharply increased both under Stewart’s guidance. Sim promised to be fiscally prudent, which would be important to ethnic Chinese voters, 36 per cent of whom cited taxation as a leading issue compared to 26 per cent overall.
Policing, public safety and crime was the fourth big issue. And Sim’s promise to hire 100 more police officers would have also played well with Chinese Canadian voters, 30 per cent of whom worried about crime compared to 25 per cent in general.
Sim also played down themes that Stewart and his council had pushed hardest — such as climate change, and especially social justice, equity and First Nations reconciliation. These were of low concern to all voters, particularly to those of Chinese background.
Such trends suggest to Purewal that, even while Sim often cited the scourge of anti-Asian racism and campaigned strongly through Chinese-language media outlets, he and his ABC party didn’t win simply because he was Chinese Canadian.
“I would say the vast majority voted for him because they agreed with his plan.”
What of Surrey, B.C.’s second largest city? South Asians in Surrey, many of whom are foreign-born, were significantly more likely to rank housing affordability as a top worry, at 56 per compared to 38 per cent of people descended from Europeans. And Indo Canadians were the least likely to zero in on homelessness.
Even though the Leger poll initially suggested Surrey mayoral candidate Sukh Dhaliwal was the favourite of South Asians, the support did not carry the day for him. Locke and McCallum, who came in a close second, were able to draw votes from both South Asians and those of European descent.
A similar lesson about the value of cross-ethnic appeal can be taken from growing Richmond, B.C.’s fourth most-populous city.
Mayor Malcolm Brodie has been winning elections there for 21 years, despite people of European ancestry now being only 20 per cent of the population, down to 40,000 from 68,000 in 2001. Purewal said Brodie has cultivated the loyalty of a solid portion of the 113,000 Richmond residents of Chinese origin.
Sometimes race-based politics can burst into controversy, as it did this fall in Los Angeles, where a national furor erupted after top Latino politicians were caught in a secret recording making crude, racist remarks about Black rivals and voters. Similar things can happen in Canada.
But for the most part, U.S. and Canadian politicians don’t appear to take advantage of ethnic-based data to manufacture wedge issues: They simply see ethnic differences, as well as similarities, as fundamental factors to understand.
Let’s hope most North Americans politicians try to balance their desire to appeal to voters from specific ethnic groups with a larger commitment to social harmony.
Really interesting and nuanced study with regional breakdowns:
In August 2022, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention reportedthat over the last two years, Black Americans’ life expectancy declined to about 71 years old, six years lower than their white counterparts. National disparities in life expectancy can represent the permanency of racism, offering little reason for hope.
But in Manassas Park, Va. and Weld County, Colo., the mean-life expectancy for Black residents is 96—a national high among all Black citizens by county. Black people are living in their 80s in larger Democratic jurisdictions like Montgomery County, Maryland and smaller Republican districts like Collier County, Florida.
[time-brightcove not-tgx=”true”]
My colleague Jonathan Rothwell and I reported hundreds of places that exceed commonly held expectations in Brookings’s recently released Black Progress Index, an interactive tool and report developed in partnership with the NAACP that provides a means to understand the health and well-being of Black people and the conditions that shape their lives. Instead of comparing Black people to white people, we examine life expectancy differences among the Black population in different places. This method reveals the locales where Black people are thriving.
Courtesy of the Brookings Institution.
Researchers often sloppily compare rates of home ownership, educational attainment, income and mortality without attending to past and present discrimination that intended to create disparities. Consequently, broad national averages void of context policy and local contexts camouflage the very real progress that’s occurring across the country.
Still, in places like Jefferson County, Ohio, the average Black person lives 33 fewer years than Manassas Park, Va. and Weld County, Colo. That gap is roughly equivalent to 100 years of progress in living standards, medical science, and public health.
Black people are not a monolith. They have widely different outcomes in very different places. Local contexts matter as Black people do. Lower life expectancy in counties and metro areas across the country suggests that people are losing battles against racism. But geographic areas where Black people are thriving offer more than hope: People’s civic actions are delivering positive change.
What accounts for such vast differences? Life expectancy, a cumulative measure of health and well-being, summarizes both the biological and non-biological influences on our lives. Because race is a sociological construct and not a biological one, we should assume disparities in life expectancy represent differences in non-biological influences on our lives. Our current life expectancy data suggest that people are breaking down specific social conditions that influence longevity, giving real reason for optimism.
Using a common machine-learning algorithm to select variables and rank their importance, the Index identifies 13 social conditions that predict Black life expectancy. Many are those one might expect, such as income, education, housing, and family composition. Others were more surprising, including the top predictor of high Black life expectancy: larger shares of foreign-born Black residents. One standard deviation above the mean in this variable adds one year to predicted life Black expectancy. For instance, Brooklyn, N.Y. is in the 89th percentile of life expectancy at 78.5. The more than 43% of Black residents of King’s County who are immigrants, places it in the 98th percentile among all counties.
The cause for this interpretation is unclear; it may be a pure composition effect, in that foreign-born Black Americans enjoy better health than the native Black population. Though, this data points to a larger question: Is less exposure to U.S. racism good for your health?
On the other end of the spectrum, a surprising predictor of low Black life expectancy is religious membership. Keeping in mind all the social determinants that showed to be significant in our study are correlational, not causal. Revoking a church membership will not automatically add years to a person’s life. The challenge is understanding why religious adherence is associated with lower life expectancy. Church goers are more likely to be obese and, on the surface, asking “Jesus to take the wheel” may negate any agency we have in influencing our health outcome. We also know that place-based bias that comes out of the wash of housing devaluation hurts the families and institutions, including churches, in those locales. More research is needed to uncover the conditions and behaviors underlying all the variables that strongly influence life expectancy.
The fact that we realize progress and stagnation in Black life expectancy in different places makes clear that people have agency. The gains and losses reflect that. When we take an overly optimistic or pessimistic view of the state of Black America and treat Black people as a monolith, we don’t see localized stories of growth, determination, and thriving.
The diversity of places where Black people are thriving suggests that it has something to do with Black people themselves. In places like Montgomery County, Md., individuals, civil rights groups, organizers, and politicians are dismantling the architecture of inequality that takes away years of life.
That said, we still need to examine and throw away the overly optimistic position on race relations—that the country has moved beyond slavery, Jim Crow racism, and the array of discriminatory policies and their long-term effects. People who hold this perspective contend that America is a level playing field and that with effort, Black people can achieve anything a white person can.
But locales that post life expectancies under 70 perform poorly on environment or institutional indicators like the air and school quality, suggesting that life is harder in some places due to systemically racist forces. In Lowndes County, Ala. where Montgomery is the county seat, Black life expectancy is 68.5. In Greenwood, Miss., it’s 67.3. In Salem, Ore., life expectancy is 64.4.
It’s also worth speculating on seemingly obvious reason why some cities, like Jackson, Miss., don’t post higher rates than 72.6. Jackson has higher homeownership rates than most places (94th percentile) and a higher percentage business ownership (59th percentile). But the recent water crises show how local politics of Mississippi play out in lower investments in the city’s water infrastructure, which plays out in other municipal services that impact life expectancy like education.
“Social reforms move slowly,” wrote W.E.B. Du Bois, suggesting that we must learn from our circumstances in ways that reject intemperance and blame. “[W]hen Right is reinforced by calm but persistent Progress we somehow all feel that in the end it must triumph.”
Society is toiling with the same struggles around racism that Du Bois faced at the turn of the 20th century. Nonetheless, we must take the time to recognize empirical signs of progress and not rush toward unsophisticated, untruthful narratives of hopelessness or blind ignorance that remove or dismiss our agency. A path of progress demands that we have a clear view of the social, political, and economic landscape in which we live. Recognizing progress and defeats will have us see the very real capacity for future change. The assumption—backed with data—that Black people in places with higher life expectancy had a hand in their outcomes should inspire us to seek change in places where discrimination is robbing people of years of life
Interesting long read, written from an Australian perspective but applicable more broadly including in Canada:
Last week, Christopher Wray, Director of the U.S. Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI), toldlawmakers that the bureau has national security concerns about TikTok, the popular app that is owned by the Chinese firm ByteDance. “Under Chinese law, Chinese companies are required to essentially — and I’m going to shorthand here — basically do whatever the Chinese government wants them to do in terms of sharing information or serving as a tool of the Chinese government,” Wray said in the House Homeland Security Committee hearing. “That’s plenty of reason by itself to be extremely concerned.”Similar fears have been expressed by officials in other democratic governments. Concerns about rising Chinese influence have been increasingly conveyed through the lens of how technology is developed, governed and distributed. As democratic governments enter a new phase of engagement with China that balances national security worries with needed cooperation, understanding how we might govern Chinese apps in a way that squares such concerns with the needs and interests of Asian diaspora communities is paramount. Australia offers a case study in the potential pitfalls, and a possible path forward.
Introduction
The May 2022 Australian election was a moment of vindication for many. Nine years of conservative rule gave way to a coalition of independents seeking climate action, record Indigenous representation and the most diverse Parliament Australia has ever seen. With nearly 1 in 5 Australians having Asian ancestry, this election was a particular turning point for political representation: where the number of elected Asian-Australians makes up half of the total figure ever elected to Parliament from that ethnic group.
This election, however, came at a point of intense alienation for Asian-Australians. The wave of anti-Asian sentiment during the course of the COVID-19 pandemic meant increased discrimination, hate crime and attacks on the community. And rather than being repudiated by the political establishment, when combined with a historic low point in Australia’s geopolitical relationship with China, this wave of hate alongside increasingly hawkish sentiments has translated into our own brand of Down Under McCarthyism.
Like many other countries, Australia has been grappling with the societal impacts of social media for the past few years. At the coalface of this debate are elections, where issues such as misinformation, foreign interference and content moderation become both more apparent and important. How we navigate these issues becomes more complex when the focus turns to non-Western social media platforms – namely those that originate from China. But calls to ban or boycott these platforms would achieve the exact opposite of their intended aims to protect democracy, as huge proportions of the Australian population would be excluded from our political processes.
In our attempts to reign in ‘foreign’ Big Tech, how might we balance our national security anxieties and interests with the new opportunities for engagement these platforms have given us? It is crucial to separate real concerns over security and the integrity of Australian elections and political discourse from the bigotry and discrimination that has long targeted Asian-Australians.
The Asian Diaspora in Australia
Whilst multiculturalism is regularly touted nowadays as a fundamental national value, the exclusion of Asians from Australian society has deep historical roots.
Prior to the ‘establishment’ of modern Australia, the influx of Chinese migrants from the gold rush meant that distrust and violence against non-white communities was prevalent. After Federation, one of the first pieces of legislation passed from the newly formed government was designed to specifically limit non-British immigration representing the formal start of the White Australia Policy. This policy had a profound impact on Australia’s demographics, decreasing the proportion of Asians from 1.25% of the population at Federation to only 0.21% by the end of World War II. Following WWII, successive governments began dismantling this policy until its full abolishment by the government of then Prime Minister Gough Whitlam with the passage of the Racial Discrimination Act 1975. From 1978, Australia became the second country in the world (after Canada) to implement a national multiculturalism policy; since then, its value to society has been made manifest.
These policy reforms paved the way for waves of migration from Asia. From the refugee crisis in Vietnam and Cambodia, skilled migration from India, and people escaping political turmoil in the Philippines and China, Australia became a primary destination for many in the region. Whilst this has led many in the political establishment to label Australia as ‘the most successful multiculturalnation on Earth’, various voices still see rising diversity as a threat to the national identity.
As of 2021, nearly half of all Aussies have at least one overseas-born parent. From the first census in 1911 that indicated 18% of the population was born overseas, 111 years later it’s risen to 30% of the population (predominantly from Asian countries). But even with these numbers, the path for migrant communities to realize their place in business, civic and political leadership in Australian society still has a long way to go.
Asian-Australians in Politics and Leadership
The legacy of exclusion resulted in severe under-representation of Asian-Australians in politics. Prior to the recent election, 96% of Australian lawmakers were white, trailing behind other similar multicultural, liberal democracies such as the United States, the United Kingdom, Canada and New Zealand.
Representation in core Anglosphere elected officials. Source: BBC
This lack of representation of Asian-Australians extends far beyond politics into all areas of leadership in Australian society, and is known as the ‘bamboo ceiling’. But whilst the private sector also limits Asian-Australian progression, the issue is particularly pronounced in the public service.
Chinese-Australians in particular are broadly under-represented, but are increasingly so in the more ‘sensitive’ departments such as ONI (intelligence), Defence or DFAT (foreign affairs) as opposed to Education or Treasury. One of the main reasons for this are the lengthy periods associated with obtaining security clearances, on average 6 months longer for Chinese-Australians. Greater scrutiny of China links is not just an Australian phenomenon. In the US between 2010-2019, you were nearly twice as likely to get your security clearance denied if you had any familial or financial links to China – prior to this the denial rate was similar to other countries.
Holding an Election Amidst a Tense Trade War
Three elections ago, relations between China and Australia were much better than they are currently. Amid lofty optimism off the back of a finalized free trade agreement, Chinese Paramount Leader and Communist Party (CCP) General Secretary Xi Jinping’s address to a joint sitting of the Australian Parliament and tour of the country would be unthinkable in today’s climate. Instead, years of simmering tension were catalyzed when Australia called for an independent investigation into the origins of COVID-19. An ensuing petty trade war (no lobster and wine!) plummeted relations between the two countries.
The 2022 election saw the Scott Morrison government double down on a hardline national security and anti-China rhetoric, at a point where a wave of anti-Asian hate saw more than 8 in 10 Asian-Australians reporting at least one instance of discrimination. From labeling Richard Marles, the future Minister of Defence, as the Manchurian candidate to billboards from right wing campaigning groups associating Xi Jinping with the Labor Party, this all out offensive was costly, swinging almost all electorates with <10% Chinese ancestry to the Labor party.
While the hawkish positions that at times bordered on racial vilification from the conservatives was clearly miscalculated, their sentiments belie real concerns regarding foreign interference and electoral integrity more broadly. How social media platforms impacts elections, society and democracy has been one of the topical policy conversations over the past few years, and as more non-Western social media platforms gain popularity, there is an even greater need to understand the nuances of platform governance while avoiding the pitfalls of reactionary solutions (i.e. let’s ban it!).
What is WeChat?
At the eye of the storm is a Chinese app called WeChat. Developed by Tencent (one of China’s main technology companies), WeChat is the most popular online platform amongst Chinese migrants, and as of 2020 had around 700,000 daily active users in Australia. Far from just being a social media platform, WeChat also has messaging, calling, mobile payments and ecommerce functions, making it a ‘one stop shop’ for everything online. For Chinese-Australians this app is the public square. WeChat is the dominant source for both Chinese-language (at 86%) and English-language (at 63%) news for this ethnic group.
WeChat has a ‘one app, two systems’ approach, where the international version of WeChat is subjected to less severe censorship and data governance obligations than its Chinese counterpart (called Weixin). The version of the app depends on the device used to register, meaning that many Chinese visitors, students and business travelers remain under the governance framework of Weixin even outside of China’s borders. In September 2021, Tencent updated its terms of service to assure international users of the system’s discretion (and also in response to evolving data storage and localization legislation in China). It gave users a choice to switch registrations over to non-Chinese numbers, however with migration taking as long as 10 days and resulting in decreased functionality, many Australians chose to keep their Weixin accounts. Additionally, WeChat Official Accounts (WOAs), which give accounts functionality akin to a Facebook page and are the preferred choice for politicos, still require registration with a Chinese number.
The Witch Hunt on Chinese Technology
Since mid-2020, from India’s TikTok ban to investigations of Huawei, global scrutiny on Chinese technology firms has been at an all time high. Accusations range from surveillance to censorship to foreign interference, reflecting the decline in relations and trust between China and the rest of the world at large. Some of these accusations are well founded, while others are less so.
Privacy and Surveillance
Concerns over the data practices of Chinese apps, backed up by evidence uncovered by journalists, have become so commonplace that they should be taken as fact. Right after the election, leaked audio from TikTok in the US revealed that user data had been frequently accessed from China. In Australia, a report released around the same time pulls into question where data from the app is actually processed, and the risk this poses for security and privacy. A review into data harvesting of WeChat and other Chinese apps was announced by the Home Affairs Minister shortly after the election.
Censorship
As opposed to Weixin, where a sophisticated system of direct algorithmic censorship ensures CCP control over the online environment, WeChat’s censorship regime is more indirect.
Firstly, it’s well documented that many users of the app self-censor, where users avoid ‘sensitive’ topics around international relations, human rights and COVID-19, and could be a contributing factor to why Chinese-Austrailans rarely share their views online about politics and government – particularly about China.
Further, opaque platform policies (although not dissimilar to other social media platforms) mean that content moderation and censorship decisions are held entirely within the company. From activists to artists, even foreign-registered WeChat accounts have posts and messages actively censored if they touch too closely on sensitive issues.
Finally, many Australian users and politicians who register with a Chinese number to gain access to increased functionality are subjected to the stricter content rules of Weixin. Even then-Prime Minister Scott Morrison had a post removed that criticized a Chinese government official for publishing a doctored image of an Australian soldier holding a knife to an Afghan child (in response to the release of a report alleging war crimes by the Australian military). A note on WeChat said that the post was unable to be viewed as it ‘violated company regulations’.
Misinformation and Foreign Interference
Even though many within the Australian establishment have expressed concern about China’s ability to influence public opinion, proof of whether it has succeeded in impacting public discourse has been limited. Definitively proving the efficacy of state-sponsored disinformation campaigns is extremely challenging, as the network of astroturfing, proxies and shadow organizations used to achieve these goals are intended to be hidden, but incidents overseas reveal the potential risk towards Australian democracy. The 2021 Canadian election saw significant disinformation campaigns against an outspoken Hong Kong-Canadian politician, which contributed to him losing his seat. Kenny Chiu, a Conservative member of the Canadian Parliament and critic of the Chinese regime, faced significant (and falsified) opposition to proposed legislation intended to bring in more transparency requirements.
In reality, the majority of misinformation and disinformation spread on WeChat comes from domestic Australian actors. From statements that Labor will fund school programs to ‘turn students gay’ and ‘refugees flooding in and taking your wealth away’ to misinformation on how to vote, such posts are mostly forwarded between private groups. The confluence of platform design that facilitates these ‘communities of trust’ to form and the segregated nature of these online spaces leaves WeChat very susceptible to information disorder.
Paradoxically, while Chinese disinformation campaigns tend to go after more conservative candidates (due to a higher likelihood of them being China hawks), domestic misinformation tends to target more left-leaning politicians (due to the Chinese diaspora being more likely to engage with socially conservative and economic narratives).
WeChat Use Becomes a Dogwhistle for Patriotism
Early in the election period, Prime Minister Scott Morrison was rocked with a scandal. His WeChat account was sold to a company based in Fuzhou, renamed, losing him the ability to reach 76,000 subscribers. It’s important to note that account transferrals are completely allowed on the app. While foreign politicians are not allowed WOAs, they can still obtain one through registration services that pair foreign accounts with Chinese numbers – a tactic used by many politicians as these types of accounts allow for more desired campaigning features (such as push alerts and being able to broadcast).
As the news broke, many people in the Australian political and media elite quickly jumped into accusation mode. From allegations of hacking to CCP interference, it was galvanizing to both security and political folk alike – time to ditch WeChat. Senator Paterson, a libertarian who chaired the Parliament’s intelligence and security committee, said that the takeover was ‘very likely’ sanctioned by the CCP and amounted to foreign interference, joining the chorus of pundits calling for a ban on WeChat.
Even Gladys Liu, the first Chinese woman to be elected to the Australian House, was quick to renounce WeChat. This is despite the fact that she had expertly used WeChat on two separate occasions to win seats for the Conservative party – once for her predecessor and once for herself. Even as other members of her party continued to push ads on WeChat, Liu’s precautionary actions to publicly display nationalistic loyalty not only hark back to her experiences years before, when her previous links to overseas Chinese organisations were used to insinuate links to the CCP, but also to the persistent ‘otherness’ Asian-Australians face throughout society. It followed another instancewhere in a Senate inquiry on diaspora experiences, a Conservative Senator demanded three Chinese-Australians to unequivocally condemn the CCP, a question which many condemned as racially targeted. For Liu, struggling to hold onto a marginal seat where a quarter of the population speaks Chinese, the decision to not use WeChat was costly.
The Difficult Task of Platform Governance
The aftermath of the US 2016 election, from which evidence emerged of Russian interference via social media, firmly established ‘reigning in Big Tech’ as a common policy goal in many democracies. A few years on, translating this call into tangible action has revealed hard decisions, seemingly intractable tensions and systemic inertia. What the Australian experience has shown is that when the regulatory conversation shifts to try and align the actions of non-Western (i.e. non-American) digital platforms – an additional pitfall of parsing through minority alienation and political posturing must be considered.
The increasing securitization of ‘Chinese influence’ within the Australian policy discourse since 2017 mirrors our increasing frustration around social media regulation. While there are unique challenges WeChat poses from a security and geopolitical lens, attempting to parse out rational policy concerns from irrational and bigoted fears will enable a more nuanced and holistic approach towards platform governance.
For instance:
On susceptibility towards foreign interference – Chinese-Australians trust news that is shared on WOAs the least compared to other sources such as Australian news
On distrusting firm’s intentions – whilst there is evidence that the purported assurances from WeChat around transparency, privacy, accountability and safety are disingenuous, the Facebook Files and other whistleblowers have shown that this hypocrisy also occurs elsewhere
On censorship – content moderation decisions, whether on Facebook or WeChat, both happen at the discretion of these firms and their ‘Community Guidelines’. Whilst there have been some efforts to add a layer of independent governance to these efforts (most notably Facebook’s Oversight Board), key questions remain – how should these quasi-independent transnational governance initiatives fit into our existing state-centric governance model and will privately-led governance initiatives ever manage to account for public interest? Would a ‘Tencent Oversight Board’ be received with the same level of legitimacy? And how might these initiatives be constructed and integrated in a way that ensures buy-in.
What this illustrates is that while security concerns for WeChat are a consideration, many of the fundamental issues WeChat poses are fundamental platform governance policy problems.
A path forward
As our new MPs make their way to Canberra, the responsibility of regulating social media now falls to them. But what the pandemic made clear is that Chinese platforms are a lifesaving communications channel for the Asian-Australian community. Acquiescing to hawkish calls to ‘boycott’ them is not only overly simplistic, but will serve to further alienate huge sections of the Australian public.
Instead, legislators must work towards doubling down on engagement and creating the rules and systems to ensure that this engagement is safe and trustworthy. And whilst it’s a task that won’t be featured in a sensationalized Murdoch hit piece, it will do more to enhance Australian democracy than any media firestorm will. Here are three key recommendations to achieve these goals:
Shift investment towards digital-forward diverse media to combat misinformation
As one of the first countries in the world to establish a public broadcaster catering specifically to culturally diverse communities, Australia has a legacy of diverse communication. Today, Australia has a diverse media market, but there remains a clear skew towards traditional forms such as print and radio. Even as online media outfits begin to proliferate, many of these outfits originate from migrant students sympathetic towards China’s positioning on various issues. An unfamiliarity around using WeChat amongst Australian media and business outlets has left this digital public square without a counterbalance.
Language
Publications/Print
Radio
TV
Online
Chinese
80
many
1
50
Indian
50
36
2
11
Filipino
5
30
1
4
Vietnamese
16
14
2
5
Cultural media market in Australia. Source: Leba – Australia’s largest advertising agency for culturally and linguistically diverse media.
Facilitating plurality within this environment is a complex and active task, and governments should employ multiple levers to increase diversity and representation, particularly within digitally-native media operations. This should include;
Incentivising traditional media outlets to establish a presence amongst foreign-language platforms – including bi-lingual publication
Incentivising the diversification of newsrooms, and ensuring that journalistic standards are upheld
Active funding of new digital media startups that represent diverse and contextual viewpoints
This is particularly important as second-generation communities, who are more digitally literate and have completely different experiences/identities than their migrant parents, become more visible in Australian society. One of the most prominent Facebook groups that provides a forum for the unique experiences of the Asian diaspora – Subtle Asian Traits – with nearly 2 million members was started by a group of Chinese-Australian high school students in Melbourne. Continuing to invest in increasing the diversity of culturally specific media across a wide range of channels is the best way to combat the unique risks around misinformation and information disorder facing minority communities.
Establish avenues to compel platform engagement in governance processes to combat distrust of foreign social media companies
A holistic platform governance regime should combine:
Domestic action that combines a multistakeholder approach with equipping independent regulators with the appropriate powers to ensure proper transparency, oversight and accountability, and
International engagement so that legislation, processes and structures are built through consensus and alignment with international norms
Domestically, hard levers such as mandating researcher access, requiring company and algorithmic audits from independent bodies, and ‘truth in political advertising’ legislation could be considered. In many of the key platform governance policy debates, the focus has been mainly on Meta and Google – however efforts to understand, engage and cooperate with alternative platforms must included to ensure that our regulatory regime applies to all actors.
Internationally, as key geographies seek to establish their sphere of influence (via the EU’s Digital Services Act, the UK’s Online Safety Bill, or U.S President Joe Biden’s principles for tech accountability), ensuring that consensus is achieved will be a significant challenge – particularly as more and more non-American social media platforms begin accumulating larger and larger user bases. It will require diverse coalitions, novel governance frameworks and new institutions. Working towards this new digital compact will require Western democracies to broaden the tent, engage in good faith and center pragmatism, while balancing liberal values – a task that is only possible through dialogue.
Continue using alternative platforms to increase the political participation of diverse communities to combat alienation
Ultimately, alternative social media platforms are an unparalleled way for minority communities to obtain information and realize their democratic rights. This isn’t limited to WeChat, but platforms such as Zalo (Vietnam), Line (Japan), KakaoTalk (Korea) and WhatsApp all have unique usage patterns amongst various diasporic communities in Australia, even if their dynamics are less researched. What is clear is that even with the risks, WeChat not only enables greater political participation but facilitates public service, information delivery and civic engagement.
For political parties, candidates and advocacy organizations – taking a considered approach that assesses and mitigates risks without losing a valuable communication channel should be considered. This may include:
Establishing an internal policy on foreign-owned social media platform usage
Reporting violations to the Australian Electoral Commission or eSafety Commissioner
Keeping a transparent public register of WeChat ads and paid posts during an election period
Conclusion
In her maiden speech to Parliament in 1996, Senator Pauline Hanson warned that Australia was at risk of being ‘swamped by Asians’. Even though these comments were made by a fringe far-right politician, they have become emblematic of how the Asian-Australian identity is viewed as a ‘perpetual foreigner’.
Twenty years later from these vitriolic remarks will bring us to the next Australian election, where lawmakers must not succumb to making the New Red Scare a political tactic. Social media platforms, and their unparalleled ability to connect and engage communities, present an unparalleled opportunity for minority communities to add their part to the Australian story. Driving engagement with the Asian-Australian community via the channels they use whilst tackling the real platform governance issues will ensure that Australia’s democracy is strengthened, and could offer an example to other democracies struggling with similar issues.
Matt Nguyen is the Policy Lead for Digital Governance and Rights at the Tony Blair Institute, where he leads work on the future of news, platform governance and digital rights.
While Lau is trying to be too cute in his commentary, the data undermines claims of white supremacy:
If I get a speeding ticket for exceeding the speed limit by 50 kilometres per hour in a residential zone, I plan to inform the police officer that the institution of policing, the radar guns, and even the posted speed limit are all manifestations of white supremacy. That’s sure to have the ticket withdrawn.
I take my cues from a handful of those in the esteemed social class of public educators. Some context: earlier this fall, the Education Quality and Accountability Office, which is arms-length of the Government of Ontario, released the latest standardized test results. As they have over the past decade, reading and writing scores fluctuated, but math scores continued their steady downward march.
In 2021-22, only 59 per cent of Grade Three students met provincial standards in mathematics, down from 60 per cent in 2018-19 and 67 per cent in 2012-13. Among Grade Six students, only 47 per cent met provincial standards in mathematics, down from 50 per cent in 2018-19 and 57 per cent in 2012-13.
Perhaps in anticipation of such dismal results, in the weeks ahead of the EQAO results release, the Toronto District School Board launched what might be seen as a series of pre-emptive strikes, giving presentations denouncing standardized testing as an example of “white supremacy in K-12 mathematics education.”
A member of the Elementary Teachers’ Federation of Ontario’s executive staff, with similar ideas in mind, wrote in the union’s magazine that standardized testing is “biased towards upper-middle class white test-takers” and suggested that “EQAO tests are culturally and racially biased, promoting a Eurocentric curriculum and way of life that privileges white students.”
That administering standardized tests to measure student achievement is a manifestation of white supremacy is an interesting claim, but a little dubious. In the first place, if white racists are trying to use standardized testing to promote the idea that the white race is somehow superior to others, they’re doing a rather poor job. Students from many different racial backgrounds outperform white students (on average) on these tests.
The Peel District School Board reported last year, for example, that a higher proportion of students from East Asian, Southeast Asian, South Asian, Middle Eastern and multiple racial backgrounds reached the provincial standards in Grade Three mathematics than white students. Data in previous years and from other school boards, such as Toronto and Grand Erie, also show Asian students on average significantly outperforming white students in EQAO mathematics tests.
Survey data cast further doubt on the theory that standardized tests are tainted by white supremacy. In January a poll (conducted by Leger and published by the Fraser Institute) found 84 per cent of parents of children in K-12 schools supported having their children write standardized tests, including 92 per cent of immigrant parents. Unless we’re prepared to conclude that 84 per cent of Canadians and an even higher proportion of immigrants support white racist activities, we may have to conclude the tests are not racist.
On second thought, if I am pulled over for speeding, it may not help to inform the police officer that the resulting ticket is a manifestation of white supremacy. More likely, the police officer would regard me as an idiot. Similarly, reasonable people might regard as inordinately dumb the idea that standardized testing has anything to do with white supremacy.
Matthew Lau is an adjunct scholar with the Fraser Institute.
Singapore is unique in so many ways and hard to see how its approach could ever be adopted here apart from some of the tax and surcharge approaches:
If you’re Canadian, you might feel envious learning the quest for affordable housing is basically a success for many of the 5.7 million people of Singapore.
That is not a story you hear often, or at all, in Canada, especially not in Greater Toronto, Metro Vancouver or Victoria, three of the world’s more unaffordable cities.
The wealthy city-state of Singapore, in South-East Asia, is like Metro Vancouver and Toronto in many ways: A megapolis that acts as a magnet for foreign people and capital, which has faced daunting housing problems.
Like other fast-growing cities, Singapore is known for its capitalism and cultural diversity, albeit with a stronger emphasis on orderliness, which leads to cleanliness and low crime. Despite free elections, it has had only one party in government since it gained independence from Britain in 1959. Its legendary first prime minister, Lee Kuan Yew, committed to every citizen being able to own a home.
The city-state approaches Canada for its religious and ethnic diversity: 75 per cent of residents are of Chinese descent, 15 per cent are Malay and seven per cent are from the Indian subcontinent. More than one quarter of Singapore’s population is foreign born, which is less than the proportion in Vancouver and Toronto.
Yet, despite broad similarities, the upcoming book Housing Booms in Gateway Cities, from David Ley, a UBC professor emeritus of geography, explores how Singapore, through innovative taxation, has conducted an impressive experiment in housing.
Singapore has accomplished relative affordability with what Ley calls “its own version of municipal socialism” — a term that will either repel or attract Canadians.
“Typically, Singapore gets the prize of being the most business-friendly and economically open society there is. But, when it comes to housing, it battens down the hatches hard,” said Ley, author of Millionaire Migrants, whose new book will detail housing issues in the gateway cities of Vancouver, Singapore, Hong Kong, Sydney and London, England.
“It’s plan from the beginning was that everyone who is a (citizen) would be a homeowner, buying housing from the government, which is the principal landowner, or from a much smaller private sector.”
The megalopolis’s housing model, unlike in Canada, is based on differentiating three levels of citizenship rights. Restrictions on foreign investment are also tight.
“If you are born in Singapore you are called a Singapore ‘resident,’ and you have basically all the rights that are available,” Ley said. “You can also become a permanent resident and get a chunk of the rights, but not all of them. Or you’re a temporary migrant and you have almost no rights.”
As a result, nine out of 10 citizens of Singapore own a dwelling, said Ley, nearly all of which are apartments, ranging from run-of-the-mill to elegant. Most are leased for 99 years from the government. Another 20 per cent of housing is exchanged on the private market.
Here’s how Singapore’s experiment in housing works.
If you are a full citizen of Singapore, you get access to the apartments built and made available by the Housing and Development Board, or HDP, a high-powered government agency.
“And if you’re a permanent resident, but not born in Singapore, you get access to HDP apartments, but with conditions,” Ley said. “If you’re a temporary migrant you get no access at all.”
That means the majority of citizens are allowed to choose from decent or stylish government-built apartments in well-planned communities, which slowly grow in value because prices are controlled by taxation policy. It results in most residents being able to move up the housing ladder.
It also means the minority of temporary residents in Singapore mostly compete for private housing. The business people from China, Indonesia and the West who work in Singapore’s dynamic financial sector, who are called “Talents,” tend to buy nice flats. On the other hand, migrant nannies often make their homes in extra bedrooms, while many foreign construction workers live in dormitories.
While Ley joins many housing specialists around the world in observing most Singaporeans seem happy with the model, it’s not perfection. A non-Singaporean professional who lives there (and doesn’t want to be identified) told me this week that young adults complain they will not start having children until they own a dwelling. And some charge the government isn’t building them fast enough.
The debate has led to former Singapore cabinet minister Josephine Teo, who calls on citizens to produce more babies even if they don’t own, famously blurting: “You need a very small space to have sex.”
Singapore ‘tenacious’ at limiting housing speculation
“Singapore has been really tenacious in terms of controlling foreign investment in its housing market,” Ley said.
While Ley wonders if Singapore inspired B.C. and Ontario’s foreign-buyers taxes, the surcharges in Canada are modest compared to those in Singapore, where foreign nationals are taxed a solid 30 per cent on any purchase whatsoever.
Singapore’s politicians also curb speculation by local investors. A year ago they slapped a 17 per cent tax on citizens who buy a second property and 25 per cent tax on their third property. They do not, on the other hand, tax citizens who are first-time buyers.
And while Canada treats permanent residents the same as citizens when it comes to housing taxes, that’s not the case in Singapore. It has imposed a five per cent tax on permanent residents purchasing a first dwelling and 30 per cent on those snapping up a third.
While Ley generally supports a surcharge on foreign purchases, he was uncertain about Canada copying Singapore’s taxes on permanent residents who invest in primary properties to live in. To some extent, he said, such speculation is already tempered by Canada’s capital gains taxes.
What can Canada learn from Singapore’s remarkable system of relative affordability? “In some ways, sadly, it’s a rather unique place,” Ley says.
But that doesn’t mean some of the city-state’s effective policies couldn’t inspire creative adaptation here.
