Opinion / Carlota Rebelo
In profile
I’m not sure when or where it started but any slight mention of the word “census” has me shouting, “I love them.” There’s just something about the gathering of data on the world’s population, using a clear and concise set of questions, which I find fascinating. It’s one of the most trusted and accurate sources of information about us human beings, providing a unique view on the size, composition and defining characteristics of a town, country, continent – anything.
So it’s no wonder that over the past week I’ve been eagerly watching my letterbox waiting for the 2021 UK Census invitation pack to arrive, so I can dutifully fill it in on census day, 21 March. The word itself derives from the Latin censere, meaning “estimate”, which was a method actively used by the Romans to determine taxes and to draft men into the military service. But its origins go back even further. The ancient Egyptians used it and so did King David; it’s believed that the Bible’s Book of Numbers is named after the counting of the Israelite population during the exodus from Egypt. The world’s oldest surviving census data was recorded more than 4,000 years ago in China. Fast-forward to today and it’s an established exercise that many nations enter into every 10 years. (The lucky souls in Japan, Australia, Ireland, New Zealand and Canada get one every five years instead.)
This year’s census is particularly important: the world has changed massively over the past decade and these results will be crucial to understanding the real impact that the pandemic has had on the global population – and how health and education services might need to adapt as a consequence. Some countries have been forced to delay their counts as the pandemic has turned them into a logistical nightmare but others such as the UK are embracing a digital approach. This will be the first time that I’ll be filling in the census form in a different country as an immigrant, and I can’t wait. It’s time to stand up and be counted.