Next March, for For the first time, Scotland’s census will ask all residents aged 16 and over to share information about their sexual orientation and whether they identify as transgender. These new questions, whose additions follow similar developments in other parts of the UK and Malta, invite people to “come out” on their census returns. Proposals to add more gender, sex and sexuality questions to national censuses are being discussed at various stages in countries outside of Europe, including New Zealand, Canada, Australia, and USA.
The idea of counting in a census feels good. Maybe it’s my passion for data, but I feel recognized when I ticked the “gay” answer option in a survey where I previously pretended I didn’t exist. or not important enough to count. If you identify with the less common descriptors listed in the drop-down boxes, seeing yourself reflected in a survey can change the way you relate to the wider community. beyond personal experience. It therefore makes sense that many bottom-up gay rights groups and top-down government agencies frame the counting of gay communities in a positive light and broaden the position of data collection. as a step toward greater inclusion.
There is great historical significance in increasing visibility for many gay communities. However, too much focus on the benefits of being counted distracts from the potential harm to the gay community from engaging in data collection activities. My interest is based on recent scholarship and activity against technology interference in questions of identity, including Ruha Benjamin, Data for Black Lives, Algorithmic Justice Alliance, Virginia Eubanks, Lauren F. Klein, and Catherine D’Ignazio. When thinking about the impact of data practices on the most disadvantaged people in these communities, the positives may not always outweigh the negatives.
From the middle of the 20th century, lesbian and gay rights groups in many countries have lobbied to increase the visibility of minority communities based on gender, gender, and sexual identity. However, even in the 70s and 80s, activists and scholars in gay rights movements, such as John D’Emilio, warned that increasing the number of individuals “living out” may not change the structure to the detriment of their communities.
The limits of inclusion became clear to me as I watched the design process for Scotland’s 2022 census. While studying my book Queue data, I sat through committee meetings in the Scottish Parliament, poring over lengthy reports, submitting evidence and participating in stakeholder trading sessions. After months of growing disagreement over how and who should count, it’s becoming increasingly clear that designing a census should never be solely about collecting accurate data.
I became conflicted about what “counted” really meant for gay communities and worried that expanding the census to include some gay people further erased those who did not. consistent with the government’s limited understanding of gender, gender, and sexuality. Most notably, Scotland’s 2022 census doesn’t count non-bisexuals who were asked to identify their gender as male or female. In another example, anti-transgender campaign groups asked the census to remove the “other” box and limit response options for sexual orientation to “gay or gay.” female”, “bisexual” and “straight/heterosexual”. Repeating the idea that sexual orientation is based on a fixed, binary concept of gender and limiting the question to just three choices effectively erases those who identify as homosexual, bisexual, or homosexual. gender, asexuality and other genders from quantity. Although the final version of the sexual orientation question includes a “different” box for sexuality, collecting data on the lives of some homosexuals could push those not outside the this expectation into the deeper darkness.
