The Ministry of Friendship could be in our future

Our government already finances ‘social capital’

To help sociologists and others interested in Canadian “social capital,” i.e., how developed and resilient our social networks are, Statistics Canada surveys Canadians on questions such as how many friends we have, how often we meet with or talk with them, whether we trust people generally, whether we think people would help us out in a bind, and so on. Its latest report on social capital came out last week. We’re a species known (so far only to ourselves) for our curiosity, so the results are intrinsically interesting.

It’s interesting that watching lots of TV doesn’t interfere with the ability to sustain friendships, and that many indicators of friendship and trust are lower in Quebec than elsewhere, despite Quebecers’ belief we’re more friendly and funloving than all other Canadians.

The data can prompt useful reflections, such as Brian Lee Crowley’s on Saturday, about true friendship and whether the modern variety stacks up. The numbers are good. Most indicators of trust were stable between 2003 and 2013, a trying period for trust, while indicators of friendship generally rose: more Canadians report having more friends.

But since when has a modern government, even a nominally conservative one, been content to merely collect and reflect upon data? Where there’s data, policy eventually follows. The report itself mentions in passing how some social capital variables have a “positive impact on a number of government policy objectives,” including better health, easier integration of immigrants, and higher quality of life.

What if the social capital variables had generally declined? What if OECD data showed Canadians had fewer friends than Americans, Brits or Chinese? What if we were below the OECD average on the key indicators? (And the OECD does track such things: See its Better Life Index at oecdbetterlifeindex.org.) Wouldn’t there be questions in the House about the alarming decline of friendship and social support in Canada? Wouldn’t there be accusations that bloodyminded Conservative budget cuts (a term more of art than fact) were undermining Canada’s social fabric? Wouldn’t there be stirrings within the bureaucracy as various ministers called for data to prove the accusations weren’t true?

How long would it be before inter-departmental task forces morphed into Friendship Canada Amitié, or maybe a full-fledged Department of Friendship and Social Connections?

If you think this is fantasy, consider the kind of spending the federal government already engages in. Last week, National Post columnist John Ivison wrote about all the millions of dollars “the federal faucet is gushing … indiscriminately,” including, for example, $16,232 to the Pioneer Club of Lac Du Bonnet, Man., “for new flooring so they can play floor curling and bingo.” Ivison’s main point was political: that the appearance of so much pork so close to election time might well cause a backlash in the Conservatives’ conservative base. In a reflex, he wrote that he didn’t mean to imply the spending wasn’t for good causes. “What churl would deny the seniors at the Pioneer Club their new flooring …?”

Well, this churl for one. Under what possible understanding of the role of government does a ministry in faraway Ottawa approve the flooring needs of a private association? Why are my tax dollars paying for their floor? The only possible rationale is that, government being so all-pervasive these days, their tax dollars may be paying for my floor.

But “we all do it,” though a plausible excuse, is hardly a good reason. If we all took care of our own floors, that would be better both for our floors and for us. Except in a world with friendship policies. If good floors can help make good friends, and if good friends are good for the society, well, shouldn’t the government involve itself in anything that in any way helps Canadians make friends? The Ministry of Friendship. It’s 2015. We’re way past 1984 now.

Where there’s data, policy eventually follows.