The Census takes a snapshot of the nation on Census Day, 21st March 2021, and its questions have to be answered as a matter of law - there's no choice about complying. But since the information gathered will be used to plan the future need for all kinds of public services in all parts of the country, it's difficult to see why any reasonable person wouldn't want to give the ONS (Office for National Statistics) the information it requests. I suppose there will be the usual cranks who suspect a dark motive behind the Census. I'm not one of them.
Households will already have been sent a flyer warning them about the Census - I got one the other day. And today I got the follow-up letter that contains the access code that passports me into the online question-and-answer procedure. For it's geared up to be an online affair. You can request a paper Census form if you like, but the ONS envisage that most people will complete the Census for their household via the Internet, using a desktop computer, a laptop, a tablet, or a smartphone.
This is a first-time for doing it online. There's another innovation: you can submit answers before the 21st March if you think you can, amending them if necessary if anything changes.
I have accordingly completed the Census for my address - and I did it today, the 9th March, on my phone. If I want to change anything between today and the 21st, I simply revisit the Census pages at www.census.gov.uk, feed in my access code, and make the alteration. But I don't think there is any likelihood of that.
This post is about my experience, including what the Census covered.
So, phone in hand, and the letter with my access code close by, I set to. The ONS said it 'should take around 10 minutes per person to fill in', but some of the questions needed a little thought. There were expandable help boxes, though, and I didn't have any real problem.
These were the opening screen views.
I won't show any further screenshots. The Census is of course official, and meant to be confidential.
Having entered the access code, we were off. A long series of screens followed, usually asking a different question on each screen.
The first question quoted my address, and then asked me if it was correct.
Then there was a warning to report how things were now, after all the effects and consequences of Covid-19, and not what they would have been if there had been no pandemic.
Next, a request to think about who will be living at my address on Census Day, including visitors. I was asked if I usually lived at my address. Then my full name: first, middle and surname. Since I had no middle name, I wondered whether this would stop the procedure in its tracks, but all was well. Then I was asked to think about specific categories of people who might be present on Census Day, or else confirm that only myself would be at my address. The ONS rather laboured this point. The next two questions asked me to confirm, again and again, putting it in two different ways, that only myself needed to be included in the Census. Then I had to confirm a third time. Or was is the fourth? Dear me.
This finally done, we moved onto what accommodation I had at my address. What type of property, whether detached or not, whether any part was communal and shared, and how many bedrooms. Not how many in theory, but how many bedrooms were used as such. So I have two bedrooms, but one has become my study, chock-a-block with bookshelves and so forth, and unusable as a bedroom at present. So my answer on the number of bedrooms was therefore one. Next, what type of central heating, and whether I owned my home outright, only partially, or not at all. Finally, how many cars I owned.
Next, questions about me personally. Another reminder that if Covid-19 had changed my life, then my answers must reflect my situation now. Then I had to confirm my name, state my date of birth, and confirm that I was now sixty-eight. Next: was I male or female? (There was a note that 'gender identity' would be dealt with further on) What was my legal marital or civil partnership status? Had I married someone of the same or opposite sex? Changing tack, did I stay at another address for more than 30 days in the year? Was I a student in full-time education? What was my country of birth? What was my usual address one year ago? How would I describe my 'national identity'? What was my ethnic group in general, and in particular? My religion, if any? My main language? What passports did I have? How would I describe my general health? Did I have any physical or mental illnesses expected to last more then twelve months? Was I a carer of someone with a physical or mental issue, or who was elderly? How would I best describe my sexual orientation? Was the gender I identified with the same as the sex registered at birth? What qualifications did I have? Specifically, a completed apprenticeship? A degree or better? An NVQ or equivalent? An A Level or equivalent? My lower-level qualifications? Did I use to serve in the armed forces? My employment status in the last seven days, or if not employed, what was I doing? Had I been looking for paid work during the last four weeks? During the last seven days, was I waiting to start a job already accepted? Had I ever done any paid work? What the employment status in my last main job, who was I working for, what was my job title, what did I do, and what was the nature of my employer's business activity? Did I supervise other workers?
The questions on religion, sexual orientation and gender identity were voluntary, and not compulsory. I still answered them. Why ever not?
That was the end of it. I submitted the form. I'd (voluntarily) given the ONS my email address, and got an instant email acknowledgement. And I think that will be the end of the story, unless they want to query any of my answers.
Verdict: I think the online method is much superior to the paper form method. Certainly less daunting. The questions were clearly phrased, and difficult to misinterpret. None of them appeared to be 'trick' questions. One or two questions had to be carefully considered, but I was not stuck at any point. I didn't need to break off and hunt for old papers, for instance. The repeated questions at the start about who might be living or visiting my home address on Census Day were a trifle aggravating, but I do see that the ONS had to have watertight assurance on this, so that nobody slipped through the net.
I didn't feel there was anything terribly controversial in this Census. It's obvious that nationality, ethnicity, sex, gender and education need to be covered. I was a little surprised that so little was asked about health. Nothing about diet, weight, fitness, drinking, smoking and drugs, for example. Perhaps reliable figures were available by other means, from other sources. Similarly, money issues: and again, perhaps accurate statistics were available elsewhere.
Still, what about questions on personal happiness, sources of worry, reasons to be cheerful, and degree of optimism for the future?
There's a suggestion in some quarters that this could be the last national, ten-year Census, and that in future the ONS will gather in the data it needs from a wide variety of alternative online sources. Well, maybe. In ten year's time, almost all the population will have a long-established online footprint, and it shouldn't difficult to gain insights into the various groups requiring this or that service or facility by simply trawling the Internet.
I wonder what statistical box they will consign me to?
Sequel
Reading the online help notes again, I think I was mistaken not to count my study as a second bedroom. Oh well. It seems that once submitted, the Census information can't be changed by simply going back online and re-using the access code for an edit. It's a one-time code.
If the ONS get in touch over anything, I'll mention that I have 'two bedrooms', but otherwise I'll let this be. It's not a seriously misleading error in the grand scheme of things.
