No ifs, ands or buts, it’s time for freedom of information
Canadian governments are so bad at releasing information they’ll even flout their own laws to stop it.
The country’s record is so awful, in fact, that the Halifax-based Centre for Law and Democracy ranks Canada 55th out of 92 nations with freedom of information laws.
We’re far behind the U.S. (38th) the U.K. (25th), and even trail less-developed countries.
With International Right to Know Day coming Friday, it’s worth asking why we fare so badly.
The problem, it seems to me, is plain old bad attitude.
Canadian governments and officials believe information belongs to them. They don’t feel it’s the property of the citizens who paid for its collection, use, and storage.
Because of this basic attitude, performance is weak in almost every area under Canada’s 17 Freedom of Information laws.
Alberta earned a ‘D’ on an excellent Newspapers Canada study conducted by independent university researchers. The federal government scored ‘C.’ Only one province, Nova Scotia, received an ‘A.’
Earning an ‘A’ shouldn’t be so tough. All a government has to do is release the information it says it will, within the time limit it sets for itself.
Canadian governments promised to do that when they voluntarily passed their laws.
And yet, they twist and turn, doing everything possible wriggle off the hook they set for themselves.
The Newspapers Canada survey summed it up pretty well: “Whether we call it access to information, freedom of information or right to information, it’s sup-
Canadian governments and officials believe information belongs to them. They don’t feel it’s the property of the citizens who paid for its collection, use, and storage.
posed to help citizens hold governments accountable.
“But as many who have used Canada’s 17 access statutes know, actually getting into those filing cabinets can mean long waits, large portions of documents blacked out and creative interpretations of what seem to be straightforward access provisions.”
Real openness can be damaging, of course. It was an FOI request that revealed the $346,000 expensed by Allaudin Merali when he was with old Edmonton health region. A similar request uncorked the U of C uproar over improper political donations.
In those cases, FOI actually worked, even though the waits were long, and the postelection timing dubious at best.
In many other areas, FOI simply can’t work because governments — especially Alberta’s — have gradually excluded vast chunks of business from their laws.
For righteous information seekers, this often means delays, invented excuses, and eventually — if they’re lucky enough to get a anything at all — blackouts of facts and details.
Herald justice reporter Jason van Rassel once showed me a report he’d finally received, about the escape of federal prisoner.
On many pages, virtually every word was blacked out. Van Rassel was left to construct his story of ands, ifs, and buts.
Not all government information should be released, of course. There are sensible exemptions involving privacy, risk to the public, or even national security.
But in nearly every debatable case, we can count on governments to err on the side of governments.
It’s much different in the U.S.
American officials, from government functionaries to police officers, are much more free with information.
They ask themselves a different question than Canadians: “Why wouldn’t we release this information?” rather than “Why should we?”
Unlike so many Canadian officials, the Americans tend to think first of rights rather than restrictions.
Premier Alison Redford is now trying to change this oppressive information culture in Alberta.
We have to wish her luck, but the weight of the system is crushing. If she succeeds, she’ll prove she’s more a magician than a politician.