The Great Canadian Census Debate: The Economists Call It

It looks like we can call it a day on the Great Canadian Mandatory Long-Form Census Debate: the economists have weighed in, and they think the government's wrong, wrong, wrong!

Today’s Globe and Mail reports that 76 percent of economists surveyed by the Canadian Association for Business Economics say that it’s a bad idea to scrap the long-form census. Out of 252 economists surveyed, only 14 thought that it was a good policy. Of course one of these 14 was the Fraser Institute’s Niels Veldhuis, who has demonstrated a less-than-encouraging understanding of statistical analysis in his creative defence of the government’s position (Check out Stephen Gordon's merciless takedown of the Fraser Institute).

Does this mean we can tentatively conclude that about five percent of economists don’t understand statistics? Or, as Gordon might put it, that they are not part of "the community of evidence-based policy analysts"?

But the truly bizarre finding from this poll? That 30 economists surveyed didn’t know whether or not scrapping the mandatory long-form census was a good idea.

Really? In a field that worships numbers and statistical analyses, in a debate that has galvanized the Canadian research community, 30 economists didn’t know whether scrapping the long-form census is a good idea or not? That’s 30 economists who either haven’t been paying attention to the policy-wonk equivalent of a monthlong Lollapalooza festival, or who can’t be bothered to recall their first-year stats training.

Can anyone explain this? Are we witnessing the birth of a new subfield of economics that rejects the possibility of knowledge through statistical analysis? (I hope so; a postmodern turn in economics would be great fun.) Were these 30 economists actually sociologists in disguise? Enquiring minds, etc., etc.

What the Census debacle can tell us about governmental accountability

Jeffrey Simpson nails it today when he notes that the scrapping of the mandatory long-form census is a “temporary triumph over ideology.” (Well, one can hope that any such triumph would be temporary, but I’m feeling pessimistic today.)

This whole census mess raises another point that I haven’t seen discussed much. Namely, we’re about to find out what, if anything, can convince a Canadian government to change its mind on something.

Not just this government. The Harper Conservatives may be pushing the limits as to what is possible in our Parliamentary system (Exhibit A: choosing prorogation, rather than face a vote of confidence in the House), but they’re not breaking any laws. The powers that they’re using are available to any government, doubly so for a majority government. Custom and tradition are no match for someone with the ability and will to ruthlessly use the rules to their advantage.

On most issues, you can find reputable people supporting one side or the other (yes, even in copyright, despite the rhetoric). This census debate is different because of the nearly unprecedented diversity of voices opposing the decision: business groups and NGOs, provinces and territories, all statisticians, pretty much every economist and social scientist I can think of, Statistics Canada itself. All serious think tanks with even a basic understanding or respect for statistics and facts (which would exclude the Fraser Institute, based on the comment reported here, which would have gotten a failing grade in any introductory statistics course) are against the decision.

On the other side, you have Stephen Harper.

So, what might cause Harper to change his mind, especially if, as Simpson writes, this decision is based on ideology and not facts?

I can think of three things that could convince a government that prefers ideological arguments to rational, fact-based ones. (Hint: facts won’t do it.) The first is that the opposition could tie up any changes in committees, which are controlled by the opposition because they have the majority of seats in Parliament. Of course, all you have to do is introduce changes via regulation to get by that one, and that’s what we’ve seen here.

The second is a worry that the issue would hurt them in an general election. In theory, minority governments are susceptible to this type of pressure, but a vote of no confidence is like a nuclear bomb: the opposition can’t deploy it to thwart every thing they don’t like, and there’s always the possibility that that bomb might (pardon the pun) blow up in their faces if they lose the election. However, if all this unpleasantness rubs enough voters the wrong way, then the government might back down.

The third reason they might back down is if the party’s financial backers threaten to withdraw funding. However, I understand that the Conservative party’s funding now largely comes from individual donors. As a result, I think that any collapse in party revenues would be related to a drop in Conservative support.

Unlike the U.S. political system, which was designed to avoid concentrating excessive power in the hands of one person, the Canadian system has no such checks and balances. Previously, an independent public service was seen as a check on the government, as was the Governor General. But that’s tradition, not a hard and fast rule. At the end of the day, the only thing holding any Canadian government in check is fears about an upcoming election. If you’re the government, no fears = no worries.

What should give supporters of all parties pause is that these constraints will be much, much weaker for a majority government of any party: Liberals and New Democrats are no more or less virtuous than Conservatives. The farther you are from an election, the freer you are to do whatever you want, evidence and opposition be damned.

As someone who’s kind of a fan of popular control of one’s government, I find that even more worrying than the scrapping of the mandatory long-form census.

Post-script: As I write this, Donald Savoie is talking about this very issue on The Current (available here soonish). I’ll have to pick up his latest book when I finish my dissertation’s first draft.

What lobbyists do

In addition to copyright, my academic work focuses on how policy is made in Canada, the United States and Mexico. Which is why I found this account of how the U.S. Chamber of Commerce operates, by James Verini in the Washington Monthly, so fascinating. It's a must-read for anyone interested in the nuts and bolts of how issues are lobbied, and worth thinking about when considering the Canadian Chamber of Commerce's work on copyright and intellectual property (anyone know of a similar story on the Canadian Chamber of Commerce?).

There's a lot in here, but check out the following:

I asked Donohue what, exactly, the Chamber does. “Two fundamental things,” he replied. “We’re advocates. Sure we do studies, sure we do events, sure we do meetings, sure we have all kinds of stuff, but we’re advocates.” And then he surprised me again with his candor. “The second thing we do is really more interesting,” he said. “We’re the reinsurance industry for individual industry associations and state chambers of commerce and people of that nature.” An example, said Donohue, was when Wall Street found itself on the defensive in opposing new banking regulations. “They can’t move forward, they can’t move back, or maybe they’re being overrun, and they’ll come to us and say, ‘Can we collect our reinsurance?’” he explained. “And then we build coalitions and go out and help them.”

h/t talkingpointsmemo.

Loreena McKennitt's argument from authority

I’m in the home stretch of finishing a first draft of my dissertation – today I have to cut half of my closely argued, heavily cited justification for using historical institutionalism to theorize regional integration – so I don’t have a lot of time to spend on this. But I feel the need to weigh in on the Loreena McKennitt’s pro-copyright-reform op-ed that’s doing the rounds.

Geist and McOrmond have already addressed the substance of McKennitt’s argument. But what’s surprising is that there is so little to address. We have McKennitt, an accomplished musician, arguing that the Internet has made it harder for musicians to make a living, that the Internet is hurting industries that are dependent on the music industry, and that therefore we need copyright reform.

I’ve always been struck by the degree to which the copyright debate is driven by polemics, rather than empiricism, and McKennitt’s article does little to break this trend. The big hint that this is a polemic comes at the end, where McKennitt says that she welcomes “copyright reform legislation” without even talking about what, exactly, in Bill C-32 – the actual copyright reform legislation before Parliament – would support a “thriving creative environment where artists are paid and the communities where they live and work reap the rewards” (which sounds good to me).

No matter where you stand on copyright, it should be obvious to anyone that not all copyright laws are created equal. There is a difference between “copyright reform legislation” and “good copyright reform legislation,” even if “good” is in the eye of the beholder.

Yet McKennitt doesn’t tell the reader why (or even if) she likes this particular bill. Rather than engaging with critics on its substance, she relies exclusively on an argument from authority to dismiss “activists and academics” as using “crafted language” to attack artists with “so-called ‘user rights’.” Shades of James Moore’s “radical extremists” comment, and equally as helpful for Canadians wanting a substantive policy debate.

It also doesn’t help that McKennitt seems to be asking of copyright more than it can give. Copyright is supposed to maximize a) the creation; and b) the distribution of creative works. Because creative works are made from already-existing creative works, we have to ensure that copyright is not so restrictive as to limit future production. That’s it.

Justifying stronger copyright based on the wellbeing of popcorn sellers, HMV employees, “parts of the touring industry” and even artists’ quality of life (ask a garbage collector if their salary or hours are fair) serves only to confuse the issue. These activities matter to copyright only to the extent that they fulfill the end of maximizing the creation and distribution of creative works. If they do, then tell us why copyright is the best way to ensure that, say, sound engineers, get paid.

If these activities can be replaced without hindering creation or distribution (seriously: popcorn vendors?), then tell us why we should care. If they are valued for other reasons, then we can lobby our government to provide other means of support. The cultural industries are supported by much, much more than just copyright law.

I have no doubt that Ms. McKennitt is sincere in her views on the importance of copyright to both her livelihood and music production. But she’s not doing anyone, especially herself, any favours by not discussing the particulars of copyright law. As I’ve said before, make your case for particular changes. Show us how particular reforms will help improve the creation and distribution of creative works. Tell us why you think specific critiques of the bill are wrong.

But, please, don’t engage in ad hominem attacks while refusing to engage on the substance of the issue. As my favourite blogger, Ta-Nehisi Coates, put it yesterday:

Overheated invective offers your adversaries a way out. You may have the superior argument, but a string of ad hominem allows your opponents to change the subject, and reduces you in his or her eyes, and in the eyes of your unswayed audience.

This style of argument betrays a disrespect for people (including other musicians!) who happen to disagree with you, while giving your critics an excuse to dismiss your arguments entirely. If would be nice if the copyright debate could move beyond it.

Confessions of an agent of foreign influence

I couldn’t agree more with beleagured Canadian Security Intelligence Service (CSIS) director Richard Fadden’s warning that agents of foreign influence walk among us.

We certainly must be vigilant that Canadians don’t betray their country by coming under the influence of a foreign power. Canadian decisions must be made by Canadians, for Canadians. The influence of foreigners must be avoided at all costs.

We have to clean house, and the best way to do so is to identify all those Canadians who have accepted money, goods or services from foreign powers. Hey, gift grabbers: those trips and cheques don’t come for free. Fadden's saying that foreign powers want something in exchange for their largesse, and he should know: he’s the highly respected head of a highly respected spy agency.



So, in the spirit of patriotism and to prove my loyalty to our Beloved Country, I welcome the opportunity to confess my sins.

I am an agent of foreign influence.

Over the past year, I have accepted money – thousands of pesos! – from the Government of Mexico to “study” in that foreign country. While there, I met with government and business officials who discussed with me how Foreign copyright works in Mexico. I now have in my head their thoughts about what copyright law should look like; I fear I will never again be able to think pure, Canadian thoughts about copyright.

And they didn’t just give me money. The Government of this Foreign Power provided me not just with a plane ticket (on Mexicana!) to get to Mexico, but paid for my return ticket to ease my re-entry into Canadian society. They even let me fly Air Canada, undoubtedly so as not to arouse suspicion.

If that weren’t enough, they also provided me with free access to their health-care system. And, as the capper to their plot to turn me against my Country, somehow the Mexican Government managed to structure my time there to make me think that Mexicans are a great bunch of folks who live in a fascinating country with a climate that will certainly tempt me to defect when the temperature in Ottawa (which I love with all my heart) hits -40 Celsius this February.

It gets worse.

I’m not working only for Mexico. I’ve also accepted gifts from the most powerful country in the world, the United States of America. Tempted by a professor who is doubtlessly a double agent for this most powerful of Foreign Powers, I applied for and won a U.S. scholarship to study in Washington, D.C., for a summer.

Even though my loyalty is for sale to anyone who can help me finish my dissertation, I was shocked by the brazenness of this program, which goes by the innocuous title of The Washington Center, and brings together students from across the U.S. and (horrors!) around the world! In thinly veiled indoctrination sessions featuring U.S. Administration officials, congressional representatives and other luminaries, these propaganda-mouthing Foreign Influences baldly claimed that the whole purpose of the Washington Center was to “build understanding” among “Americans” and “our friends from other countries.”

It was terrible. The Washington Center actually places students at the heart of the U.S. political system (they placed me at the very centre of power, the Library of Congress), where they “learn about U.S. democracy” (read: are infected with Foreign Ideas) and make contacts (read: meet their handlers for when they return home). One American woman claimed publicly – where was her shame? – that these internships created links between the U.S. and other countries. If, down the road, a U.S. representative had a problem with Canada, for example, she could contact her Canadian ex-intern, who would likely be in a position of influence, to get a better read on the Canadian situation.

Incitement to treason? Or definitely incitement to treason?

A reasonable, if unpatriotic, person might argue that these lines of communication work both ways, but let’s be honest: Canadians aren’t the type of people who try to influence other countries. It’s the outside world of Foreign Influences that is trying to influence us away from our True Canadian Way.

Copping to my treasonous ways isn’t enough. Richard Fadden didn’t have the stones to do more than cast suspicion on all B.C. provincial and municipal politicians in a way that makes it impossible to clear their names (though I’m betting that if your skin burns easily, Fadden wasn’t talking about you).

But have no doubt about the size of my stones. I’m not afraid to name names.

The rot of Foreign Influence runs deep in the Canadian government, and the name of the treasonous government organization at the heart of the conspiracy to turn decent, pure Canadians into Agents of Foreign Influence is a little-known government agency called…

International Scholarships.

Administered by Foreign Affairs and International Trade Canada (hey guys: you’re not fooling anyone by sticking “Canada” at the end of your name), International Scholarships’ Foreign Governments Awards Program puts unsuspecting Canadians under the thrall of such Foreign Countries as Russia and Norway!

It’s disgusting. For God’s sake, their website shamelessly boasts that they will put Canadians in touch with Foreign Governments offering Foreign Money to go to their Foreign Country and learn about their Foreign Ways. Oh, sure, International Scholarships also offer money to foreign students to come study in Canada, but that’s just so foreigners will be able to experience our character-building freezing winters and guileless ways. There’s nothing sinister about that.

Thank you, Richard Fadden, for helping me recognize the error of my ways. From this day forward, I will no longer accept money from Foreign Governments and will think only Canadian thoughts. I renounce my treasonous past and undertake to act only in the best interests of Canada, standing on guard against Foreign Influence, real and imagined, in defence of the Land of the Brave and Home of the Free True North Strong and Free.

Copyright as an instrument of industrial policy

As Russell McOrmond says, "A great post by David Eaves about the myth that Bill C-32 supports market forces." I'd go farther: Eaves is actually pointing out that copyright itself doesn't support market forces:

I too believe that consumers should choose what they want. But if the Minister were a true free market advocate he wouldn't believe in copyright reform. Indeed, he wouldn't believe in copyright at all. In a true free market, there'd be no copyright legislation because the market would decide how to deal with intellectual property.

Eaves correctly points out that: "Copyright law exists in order to regulate and shape a market because we don't think market forces work. In short, the Minister's legislation is creating the marketplace."

Digressing from the debate over C-32 to look at the bigger picture:

One of the overlooked realities of this debate is that copyright (or, rather, the regulation of the creative marketplace) is the last bastion of respectable industrial policy. In a world in which governments have given up trying to "pick winners" and shape the marketplace, this is the one area in which governments continue explicitly to shape the market to favour certain businesses and business models over others.

(Why this is so is a topic for another time; in my dissertation, I'm focusing largely on the role of path dependence in the development of copyright.)

To a surprising extent, the copyright debate isn't even about ends or means; it's a debate that has focused on one particular means. When we talk, we talk about copyright (a tool) rather than the creative marketplace (the thing that the tool is regulating). Instead of having a debate over the best way to improve the production and dissemination of creative works, we have a debate over whether people are pro- or anti-copyright. Debating copyright is kind of like construction workers debating whether they're pro- or anti-hammer, when they should be talking about the best way to build a house.

In my more policy-wonk-y moments, I wonder how the copyright debate would unfold if copyright were treated as a form of commercial regulation, and as as one possible means to an end, rather than as an end (the end?) unto itself.

"Radical extremists" and the smearing of Michael Geist

Note: I actually wrote most of this early last week, but never got around to posting it, what with the dissertation and all. Too bad, since in light of Heritage Minister James Moore’s recent comments about the opponents of Bill C-32, it’s pretty timely.

Onward!

True story: Back when I was deciding on a dissertation topic, I settled on digital copyright policy as a way to try to understand North American regional governance because I thought it would be a technical issue of little interest to most people.

Finished laughing yet?

But seriously: Over the past four years, I’ve learned differently, but I have to say, as someone who came to the issue from the outside, so to speak, I am routinely shocked by the vitriol and personal attacks that characterize parts of the copyright debate.

As a political scientist, it’s particularly interesting (if dispiriting) to observe the misleading, highly personal, borderline-unprofessional attacks that have been launched against Michael Geist. Russell McOrmond has a few other examples on hand.

(Disclosure: I interviewed Geist for my dissertation – it would be pretty hard to write about the politics of Canadian copyright without doing so – and one of his colleagues at the University of Ottawa is on my dissertation committee. I may also be contributing to a Geist-edited volume. In keeping with the spirit of this posting, though, I hope you'll critique my argument, not my affiliations.)

They’ve been nasty. In some circles, he has been referred to as “he who shall not be named” and worse. This fellow's colourful tale of an Industry Canada-Michael Geist-Pamela Samuelson (an American law professor) conspiracy to strip authors of their human rights, complete with an org chart describing the conspiracy is unhinged, to say the least. Throw in the Freemasons and you’d have a fair-to-middling Dan Brown novel.

(For anyone interested in an actual study of Canadian copyright-related decision making, check out Simon Doyle’s Prey to Thievery. It’s based on Access to Information requests and interviews with many of the principals involved in the run-up to Bill C-60, the Liberal’s 2005 attempt to implement Canada’s treaty obligations. Turns out that the civil servants at both Industry and Canadian Heritage had serious misgivings about adopting DMCA-style copyright amendments in 2005. The conspiracy widens!)

And now we have Canadian Heritage Minister’s James Moore’s thinly veiled ad hominem attack on Geist.

These denigrating attacks are noteworthy because, as a fair reading of Geist’s work demonstrates, he’s not exactly a radical. I understand radicals; being in university, I know radicals, and Geist ain’t one. A radical would be someone who calls for the elimination of copyright and Canada’s withdrawal from the Berne Convention and TRIPS (though even this position is theoretically and empirically defensible). They’re not the type of person who calls for public consultations, proposes amendments to legislation and works with the bureaucracy and government officials to promote his views.

If his methods don’t scream radical, neither do his actual policy positions.

Far from calling for the impoverishment of authors, the need to balance the legitimate interests of the many groups involved in copyright reform is a common theme throughout Geist’s voluminous writings. Geist argues that this balance has been tipped too far in favour of copyright owners (who are primarily publishers and distributors, not creators) at the expense of those who use creative works, either as an end product, or as an input to the creation of future creative works.

Those who claim to know what Geist really believes, evidence be damned, as Moore claims to in his speech, might want to recall how well all that soul-sensing worked out for George Dubya.

Geist's views are exactly as radical as the 1971 Economic Council of Canada report into copyright and intellectual property, which everybody interested in copyright should read, if only to mourn the extent to which the debate has deteriorated in the intervening four decades (annoyingly, it's not available online). The Economic Council argued that incentives to produce copyrightable works should not encourage either overproduction or overprotection.

That’s an economic-y way of saying pretty much the same thing as Geist: a good copyright law should provide incentives to create without tilting the playing field too much in favour of any one interest group.

Unsurprisingly, some copyright interests refuse to concede the point of Geist – and of the Economic Council of Canada, and of every copyright law that’s ever been written – that users’ rights are an intrinsic part of copyright law, not an addition. Copyright is about dissemination, not just protection. At some point, too much protection will hinder dissemination and access. Currently, protection (so goes Geist’s argument, and he’s not alone) is hindering dissemination and access. Simple as that.

So, if Geist isn’t a fire-breathing radical, why the hate? Two reasons, I’d argue:

1. It’s all about money, and it’s nothing new. Every time a technological change creates a new interest group, these new groups inevitably come into conflict with the entrenched interests that had previously divided the copyright money jar amongst themselves. A new player in town means another group whose interests will conflict with the material interests of the old-boys club. As you can imagine, this political fight can get rough. Previously, it was VCR manufacturers horning in on the action. Before that, photocopiers. Before that, the recording and motion picture industries. And before them, the makers of piano rolls.

You get the idea.

This time around, individuals as a group are one of the main threats to the status quo. Digital technology and the Internet have lowered the cost of production and distribution, making individuals competitive with the industrial giants that previously were essential to getting creative works to the masses. Despite the fact that copyright has always affected individuals, individual users previously had not been represented in the debate.

In Canada, Geist has emerged as this interest group’s most effective spokesperson.Thanks to social-network technology and some canny positioning by Geist, users are now at the table, and their (legitimate) interests unsurprisingly clash with those of some creators and publishers/distributors. Quick example: If users have the right to control what they do with their legally purchased digital works, then obviously the copyright owner doesn’t.

2. Geist is effective. If Geist just stuck to writing his Toronto Star column or took the traditional academic route of publishing in obscure journals, established copyright interests wouldn’t spare him more than a letter to the editor. Instead, he not only knows his topic, he has proven himself a canny political operative. He was the first person in Canada to use effectively social-networking sites like Facebook for political purposes. He also clearly is interested in achieving what's possible: unlike true radicals, he’s interested in compromise. Michael Geist is no Maude Barlow.

In a way, the anti-Geist vitriol is a tribute to the rising strength of this new copyright interest group: individual Canadians. Copyright is a high-stakes game, and people don’t waste their time attacking people and views that don’t matter.

The upshot of all this is that Geist has become a convenient lightening rod for those interested in dismissing critics’ views without engaging them. It’s a high-risk strategy. If voters buy the vilification of all those opposed to Bill C-32 as "radical extremists," then Geist’s critics can win the debate. But there's also the possibility that voters may ask if the bill's proponents are engaging in character assassination rather than rational policy debate because the proponents' actual arguments aren't that convincing.