Gateway Communities of Vancouver

Gated Communities are kind of awful, but the communities that form at GateWAYS are actually pretty cool. In a world of immigration, that’s where we tend to get a lot of our diversity.

As Canada’s Gateway to the Pacific Rim, Vancouver is fortunate to be full of Gateway Communities, both as a central City and as a broader Metropolitan Area. Nearly half of Vancouver’s residents were born outside of Canada. Where do they come from? All over, but we get especially large representation from across Asia. Media stories tend to focus on Chinese immigrants to the area, where Mainland immigrants have recently overtaken historical streams from Hong Kong and Taiwan. But the streams from China constitute only a minority of Asian immigrants overall. Large streams from the Philippines, India, Iran, South Korea, and Vietnam also pour into both the City and Metro region of Vancouver. Other streams from the UK and Europe, the USA and the Americas, and Oceania (especially Australia) build upon the proximity and colonial legacy of Canada. Relative to the descendants of settlers past, First Nations and other Aboriginal identified Canadians make up only a small proportion of the area’s residents, though their cultural impact is profound and local First Nation bands are emerging as a development powerhouse in the area.

Let’s draw upon Statistics Canada’s community profile data from the last Census (2016) to put this all up for comparison:


The City of Vancouver and the Metro Region have similar aboriginal identified populations. There are slightly more settler descendants in the surrounding municipalities than in the City of Vancouver proper. Non-permanent residents, including those on student and work visas, round out the population, and are slightly over represented in the City of Vancouver relative to the Metro area as a whole. In terms of immigrant Gateway Communities, the City of Vancouver and the Metro Region as a whole are relatively well-matched. The big exception is that the City of Vancouver has historically added more immigrants from China than the region as a whole, which has added more immigrants from India. For recent migrants, this trade-off has shifted. Now the City of Vancouver and the Metro Region add about the same proportion of immigrants from China, but where the City of Vancouver loses immigrants from India, it adds immigrants from Europe and the Americas (especially the UK and the USA).


We can break out a selection of suburbs by their recent immigrants to see where people are going. Immigrants from India tend to favour Surrey as a destination. Richmond received outsized attention from Chinese immigrants. North Vancouver selects for Iranian immigrants. Also, North Vancouver, like the City of Vancouver, seems to select for immigrants from Europe and the Americas. As pointed out recently by Kishone Roy and in the past by others, American immigration to Vancouver probably hasn’t received as much attention as it should! Especially since the USA’s Federal Voting Assistance Program believes Vancouver houses more American citizens abroad than any other world city! (Given that the Census only shows 26,445 immigrants to Vancouver born in the USA, many of these Americans abroad are undoubtedly dual citizens who were granted citizenship from past residency in the USA or from their parents).


As demonstrated by the difference between citizenship and place of birth in the case of ties to the USA, just looking at place of birth doesn’t fully represent the nature of Gateway Communities. The same issues certainly arise in comparing those born in Hong Kong to the much larger community claiming ties to Hong Kong. Aside from place of birth and citizenship, there are other ways to think about and chart the diversity gathered in Vancouver by virtue of its Gateway status. Immigration often produces linguistic communities, that are sometimes (but not always) passed between generations of immigrants. How many languages have 5,000 or more speakers in Metro Vancouver?


The wonderful thing about looking at languages is that it helps break down nations into their component parts. Cantonese, once the dominant Chinese linguistic community in Vancouver, must now share with Mandarin. But Wu and Min Nan linguistic communities also remain vibrant and point toward the diversity within China as well as the Chinese diaspora. Similarly, we get a lot of immigrants from India, but we get an especially large number from the Punjab. When they arrive, they pass on Punjabi between generations. Far fewer speak Hindi, despite its dominance in India. We also see multiple linguistic communities from the Philippines, with both Tagalog and Ilocano having over 5,000 speakers. The vast majority of residents speak English, but French is also relatively common and a diverse cast of other European languages find a home in Vancouver.

Let’s look at the diversity of Vancouver in one more way. Instead of thinking about how different communities measure up to one another in Vancouver, let’s see how they measure up to their sending countries. In some ways this is similar to the study of Americans abroad carried out by the USA’s FVAP above, but we’ll put it in context of the population of sending country. How many people immigrate to Metro Vancouver per million people living in their homeland (i.e. country of birth)? This gives us a rough sense of the “risk” of moving to Vancouver and/or its “pull” upon various places around the world. We can look at both total immigrants born elsewhere and just recent immigrants, having arrived in the five years prior to the 2016 Census (2011-2016).


In terms of “pull,” Hong Kong is the hands-down winner. There’s at least one Hong Kong transplant living in Metro Vancouver now for every one hundred residents of Hong Kong. The pattern is similar, if less pronounced, for Taiwan. But Hong Kong and Taiwan are also (kind of) cheating. They are both still considered part of China in many respects, though their historical patterns of connection to Vancouver are far more intense. For more recent immigrant streams, the connection is less pronounced, but still there. The recent pull from the Philippines contends with Hong Kong, and along with South Korea and Iran, conspires to beat the pull for recent immigrants from Taiwan.

In terms of “pull” for recent migrants, about twenty-six Chinese in a million immigrated to Metro Vancouver between 2011-2016. This means Mainland China lags far behind Hong Kong, Taiwan, the Philippines, South Korea, Iran, the United Kingdom, and all of Oceania in terms of risk of immigrating into the region. But, of course, there are a lot more people living in Mainland China than any of these other places.

There aren’t that many more people in China than in India. India’s patterns of immigration to Vancouver are somewhat deceiving. Most arrivals are from the Punjab region, and the numbers belie the importance of Vancouver to the Punjabi Sikh diaspora. Looking just at residents of Vancouver with knowledge of Punjabi who were born abroad, the estimate for how many Punjabis have moved to Vancouver sits around 3,000 per Million residents of the Indian Pubjab, placing the “pull” of Vancouver for this particular region inbetween the pull for Taiwan and Hong Kong.

Overall, this is a reminder that the Gateway Communities of Vancouver are strikingly diverse. Ideally media stories should strive to avoid erasing this diversity when talking about how immigration affects the City and the region. ALL of these collectives offer the possibility for meaningful communities to form, gathered together here in Vancouver, just inside the Gates to Canada. Considered all together, they help keep the Gates to Canada open.

Comparing Homeless Counts, BC Edition

We most commonly hear about homelessness as a big city housing issue. But are big cities where people are most at risk of becoming homeless? Comparing homeless count data enables us to start answering this and related questions.

Homeless counts draw upon volunteers and service-providers to provide point-in-time (one night) estimates of people without regular access to long-term housing. People are typically defined to be experiencing homelessness, as in the BC Homeless Count from 2018, “if they do not have a place of their own where they pay rent and can expect to stay for at least 30 days” (p. 11). People counted as homeless include both those staying in shelters and transition houses (counted by service providers) as well as those sleeping in “…alleys, doorways, parkades, parks, and vehicles or people who were staying temporarily at someone else’s place (couch surfing)….” (p. 11-12). Suffice it to say, this is not an easy population to find or track on any given night, and people are often also asked about where they spent the prior night during visits to service providers the next day. As a result, the “hidden” homeless population is always going to be larger than the number of people counted through homeless counts, meaning counts are always underestimates.

Homeless counts are also a lot of work, and even with the generosity of volunteers, they require significant funding and coordination to carry out in a defensible manner. We tend to know a lot more about homelessness in big cities in part because they’ve got more resources to direct toward tracking the issue. So it’s great news that BC Housing has been working with partners to provide counts for smaller communities. The BC Homeless Report, delivered in December of 2018, summarized much of what’s been learned so far.

The report is worth a read, and the count data, all by itself, is useful in assessing where urgent need for more supportive housing can be found. Here’s a lovely summary map of the data for BC, bringing together new counts funded for smaller communities with the most recent (at the time) data from other counts, funded by the Federal Government or independently (often from larger communities like Metro Vancouver and the Fraser Valley).


We can clearly see from the numbers that more people are homeless in Metro Vancouver than anywhere else in BC. But Metro Vancouver is larger than anywhere else, so this doesn’t seem too surprising. What’s more, adding all of the communities covered, more people appear to be homeless outside of Metro Vancouver (3,904) than within (3,605), despite the fact that Metro Vancouver contains over half of the total provincial population within its boundaries. And we haven’t even got homeless counts here for several large communities in BC (e.g. Squamish, Whistler, Powell River, Trail). So already we know homelessness seems bigger outside of Metro Vancouver than within. Maybe not just a big city problem after all!

But we can try and do better than that. Let’s try and create a rough baseline risk of experiencing homelessness at a given point in time for each community covered by a homeless count. We can do this by dividing the number of people counted as homeless by the total number of residents in each community. This seems pretty simple, but there are actually a number of considerations that go into creating this baseline risk (which is perhaps why the report itself does not attempt it). First, are most people experiencing homelessness coming from the community where they’re being counted? In fact, we know that they are. Check table 3.9 (p. 37). In no community studied in the report do the majority of people counted as homeless report living there for less than a year. In most communities studied, the majority counted as homeless have lived in the area for five years or longer. Homelessness is mostly local. So we’re on sound footing assessing the risk of homelessness as local.

But what do we mean by local? Local can easily cross municipal boundaries to include broader catchment areas (e.g. metropolitan areas). And there may be clustering of homelessness within broader catchment areas, following services and shelters. We know, for instance, that while the City of Vancouver contains around a quarter of the Metro Area’s population, it includes well over half of the region’s homeless counted, (table 34, p. 39). So fitting local base population to local homeless count isn’t entirely straightforward. Still, outside of metro areas these problems are diminished.

In the chart below, I draw upon homeless count data while making a best guess as to what constitutes a local population to set a baseline risk of experiencing homelessness in each community where counts took place. I mostly use municipalities here, but switch to metro area or regional district where suggested by the Homeless Count Report. For BC communities, I order by population size. But I also include, for comparison purposes, baseline risks calculated from homeless counts for a few other big cities (Calgary, New York City) as well as King County (Seattle) and LA County (Los Angeles). Data for US cities come from a big report to Congress also released in 2018.


Pulling all the data together, it appears that homelessness is definitely not just a big city problem. Tiny little Merritt, BC, appears to have the same baseline risk of homelessness (1.4 in 1,000) as Metro Vancouver. More strikingly, the little communities of Nelson and Salt Spring Island seem to have nearly 8x the risk for people experiencing homelessness as Metro Vancouver. These estimates reveal greater prevalence of homelessness for these places than we get from population-adjusted counts in New York City, Los Angeles, or Seattle.



Let’s put some bands around these estimates and put them back on the map, where the southern half of BC (rightfully) takes its place as centre of the world. In comparative perspective, while Metro Vancouver contains a LOT of people experiencing homelessness, the overall risk of experiencing homelessness at any point in time seems strikingly low, putting the area on par with other communities like Cranbrook, Merritt, and Comox Valley. The risks of homelessness seem higher in other large communities, including Nanaimo, Greater Victoria, and Kelowna. But it’s the high risks in small communities; Smithers, Terrace, Prince Rupert, Port Alberni, Nelson, and Salt Spring Island, that really stand out. Each of these little communities looks like the big cities to our South in terms of the base risk of experiencing homelessness.

For comparison’s sake, let’s see what happens if we use the (more generous) base populations of Metro Areas (CMAs and CAs) from BC Stats in dividing count data to assess risks of homelessness. Does much change?



Not really. A few communities (e.g. Nanaimo, Williams Lake, Vernon) move down a category, but we don’t see major shifts, which is encouraging. Still lots of caveats remain with respect to the data: is the quality the same across communities? How do count methods differ? Check the reports for these and other details, and by all means have a look at the reports and play with the data yourself! I’ll park my little excel datasheet here in case anyone wants to check my work or use it.

(And yes, yes, in case you’re wondering I’m still hoping to transition to a nice transparent R system with GitHub support later this year, but I’m… slow… and sometimes excel with hand-entered data – it’s artisanal! – works ok too).

There is no Brain Drain, but there might be Zombies

co-authored by Jens von Bergmann & cross-posted at MountainMath & (as of Feb 8th) updated with slightly better mortality estimation


Zombie attack! Zombies fleeing Vancouver want to eat your brain… drain… or something.

A couple of weeks ago The Canadian Press reported a story asserting that young professionals were leaving Vancouver because of the high cost of housing. This fits in with a common zombie refrain that we hear from the media. It’s a story that just won’t die, no matter how many times it’s proven wrong: Millennials, or young people, or boomers, or people important for some other reason are leaving Vancouver because of housing. Usually there are supporting anecdotes, and indeed, it’s not too hard to find people leaving Vancouver who will tell you about their frustrations with housing. But here’s the thing: there is almost never supporting data that actually indicates a decline in people worth caring about. Why? Two reasons. First, in growing cities, like Vancouver, when some people leave, even more people come in to replace them. Second, ALL people are worth caring about.

If we set aside that ALL people are worth caring about – just for a moment – we can take up some important questions about differences in in-flows and out-flows of people in Vancouver. Maybe there are aspects of in-flows and out-flows that should trouble us. In The Canadian Press story, we’re led to believe Vancouver is experiencing a brain drain, so that all the smartest and best people are somehow leaving and they’re either being replaced with people who are not so smart OR they’re not being replaced at all. As noted above, Vancouver is growing. So we know whoever leaves is being replaced, and then some, by new people coming in. But are the people arriving in Vancouver somehow less brainy than those leaving? We’re both immigrants to Vancouver, and quite frankly we find that a little offensive. Everyone arriving in Vancouver has a brain, so population growth cannot result in a brain drain. But we set aside, for a moment that idea that ALL people were worth caring about. So let’s try putting differences in in-flows and out-flows in slightly less offensive terms by returning to the “young professional” framework. Are people arriving in Vancouver unable to do the same kind of professional work as those who leave? Are we losing out on educational credentials?

Ideally we could easily access direct information on in-flows and out-flows to Vancouver (and in some places with population registry data, this is easily accomplished). In Canada we work mostly with census data, and the out-flow data, in particular, isn’t generally made public. But as we’ve demonstrated previously, we can compare across censuses to get net migration data broken down by age group. We just age people forward from one census to the next and compare how many we see in the next census to get a sense of how many people – in net terms – must’ve moved in or out over the years in between.

Now if we’re interested in education then it complicates age-based net migration models. After all, people can and do acquire new educational credentials as they age forward in time. That said, we can probably assume that most people who acquire university degrees and more advanced credentials do so by age 25. We’ll leave out some late achievers, for sure, but if we assume we have a pretty stable division into those with a completed Bachelor’s degree or more, and those without by age 25, then we can get a sense of how those populations change as they age forward in time. So, with apologies to late achievers, that’s what we’re going to do.

We’ve got ten year age groupings by education to work with in 2016 data. So let’s go back to 2006 data for comparison. Is it plausible that we lost a bunch of “young professionals,” defined as people with university degrees, who weren’t replaced as they aged forward and left Metro Vancouver between 2006 and 2016? Data says… nope.


As a matter of fact, Vancouver added a lot more young university graduates than left. Young people with university degrees continued to arrive in greater numbers than they left well through their thirties and on into their forties (we like to think of forties as young). The age labels here refer to people’s “in between” age, that is the ages they mostly passed through between 2006 and 2016 (i.e., the age range each group was in 2011). It’s only once those with university degrees hit their fifties that we start to see a roughly even net flow out of in Vancouver. What’s more, this pattern looks very similar in other major Canadian metro areas. The only exception is Montreal, where people with university degrees really do stop arriving in their forties. But it’s probably not a housing crisis driving them out.

Strikingly, across the board, young people with university degrees are far more likely, on net, to move into our major metro areas than people without university degrees. In many respects, we should expect this. Professionals, in particular, are often drawn by their economic opportunities. Once they arrive anywhere, they’re often paid well enough that they have an easier time navigating local housing markets than non-professionals. Yes, professionals may also have higher expectations about what kinds of housing they deem acceptable than others, but people adapt. One of us has written a book with that theme. In the same way that professionals may drive gentrification, professionals are actually at LESS risk of displacement out of expensive places, like Vancouver, than are non-professionals.

Let’s double-check the results for Vancouver by looking at in-flow data. The Census provides information about where people lived five years before arriving at their current destination. Do we really see a lot of professionals moving into Vancouver through their thirties and forties? Yes. In fact, for “Skill Level A Professionals” this is exactly what we see. We don’t know how many are leaving from this data, but we know a lot of professionals are arriving – more so than in other occupational skill-level categories.


For mobility data the age group labels refer to people’s age in 2016. For an alternative view we can group non-movers and non-migrants (people that did move but not to a different city) together and show the makeup of each skill level by mobility and age group. Again we see that professionals tend to have higher shares of migrants than other skill levels, especially in our lower two age brackets. Those in occupations requiring only a high school degree or on-the-job-training are actually the least likely to come from afar.


Takeaway: we do not have to worry about a “brain drain” in growing cities like Vancouver. Moreover, we don’t have to worry about professionals leaving. Due to better pay, professionals are better equipped to deal with a tight housing market than most others. Building more housing would certainly give professionals more options to choose from, and we might want to relax our millionaire zoning to direct professionals toward competing with the independently wealthy rather than the poor and working class. But it’s the poor and working class we should really be worried about losing. More housing can lead to a more equitable city with room for people who aren’t well-paid professionals or independently wealthy. And if we want to prevent displacement, we should focus more on those actually at risk. That suggests both building more and promoting a LOT more non-market and rental housing.


There are some details to be explained when computing net migration data for professionals. We already noted that professionals might get degrees at some later stage in life, but that tends to bias our estimates toward lower professional in-migration. Furthermore, when computing net migration one needs to kill off an appropriate number of professionals to account for mortality as Nathan has explained in details before. We use BC mortality rates for the appropriate years and age groups for this, but that probably over-estimates mortality as educated people tend to have lower mortality rates. This would bias our estimates toward higher professional in-migration. We could adjust for that by reading into the literature to figure out the appropriate fudge factor, but the effect is so small that we just ignored this. We made some adjustement to how we compute mortality rates and now assume a 20% reduced mortality rate for people with bachelor or above, and according higher mortality rates for people below a bachelor. This is a very rough approximation of the impact of educational attainment on mortality.

Those interested in even more details we direct to the code for the analysis, where Jens is teaching Nathan how to code with R.

Mother Tongues and Motherlands

Browsing around for Immigration, Refugees and Citizenship Canada (IRCC) data, I stepped into their portal and stumbled across some updated “facts and figures” data on immigrant intake for permanent residents from 2007 to 2016. Tables included intake by nationality (15) and mother tongue (22).  Playing around with the data, I was struck by the way these two variables overlapped, but did not quite match. Pretty cool! So I thought I’d show off the matches for the BIG THREE Canadian migrant-sending countries: India, the Philippines, and China (in that order).

But first, it’s worth noting that the hold of the big three wavered in 2016. In a dramatic move, the upstart, Syria, actually knocked off China for third place sending country. This, of course, reflected a very real (and very welcome!) move on the part of Canada to accept Syrian refugees. Canada has taken in no where near as many Syrian refugees as many other countries, especially those nearby (Turkey, Lebanon, Jordan) and Germany. But credit where it’s due, Trudeau’s Liberals stepped up to their campaign promises to do something to help.



Aside from the sudden rise of Syria, the big three continue to dominate migration to Canada, trading off for first place, though China has dropped considerably since 2013. Pakistan rounds out the top five in 2016, and I promise I won’t leave it behind.

So what about mother tongues! How do they match to nation-states?

Let’s start with China. While there are many dialects of Chinese, all are treated as Chinese by IRCC. When we map Chinese as mother tongue onto China as a sending country, we actually see more Chinese-speakers entering Canada than arrive from the People’s Republic of China (a.k.a. Mainland China). When we add in arrivals from Taiwan and Hong Kong, we’re very near total arrivals speaking Chinese as their mother tongue. Nevertheless, there are still a few Chinese-speakers to spare! The Chinese diaspora extends to other countries (e.g. Singapore), so this makes sense.


Let’s look at the Philippines! This was actually the case that motivated my post, insofar as I saw Ilocano listed as one of the top 25 mother tongues of arrivals to Canada in 2016, and in my ignorance, I must confess that I had never heard of the language before. If wikipedia is to be believed, it’s the third-most spoken language in the Philippines, after Tagalog (which I knew) and Cebuano (which I did not know). Unfortunately, only Tagalog and Ilocano are recorded as mother tongues in the top 25 for immigrants to Canada. But let’s see how well they cover arrivals from the Philippines…


It looks like Tagalog is the mother tongue for the vast majority of immigrants from the Philippines, but recently Ilocano has been added. A number of other Filipino languages probably make up the balance (there are twelve indigenous languages listed as per wikipedia, and English and Spanish are also commonly spoken). Though Tagalog is dominant, Tagalog alone will not catch all immigrants from the Philippines. Good to know!

What about India? Holy smokes! Talk about complicated! Due to the partition of the Indian subcontinent into India and Pakistan (and then Bangladesh), there’s simply no easy way to contain languages within India. At the same time, there are a LOT of languages to deal with. Here I chart India, Pakistan and Bangladesh together against the many subcontinent languages to make up the top 25 for immigrants to Canada.


Once again, it’s a pretty good match. In the early years, it appears some migrants speaking the subcontinental languages involved arrive from outside India, Pakistan, and Bangladesh. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if Sri Lanka accounted for some of the Tamil-speaking migrants. More recently, it would appear I’m still missing some mother tongues by only tracking the languages in the top 25. India is a motherland with a lot of mother tongues!

What I also find intriguing is that the linguistic variation in migrants does not track the overall prevalence of languages in each sending country. What’s going on? Linguistic selection! We can see this especially insofar as Canada constitutes a real destination for Punjabi migrants from India. We can also see this insofar as the Philippines is increasingly sending migrants speaking its third (but not second) most common mother tongue. And of course selection has long been an issue for Chinese dialects (For instance, Cantonese is only now being replaced by other dialects here in Vancouver).

The Great Wait: Changes in Timing in BC’s Birth Rates

While putting together slides for my life course class I returned to BC Stats data on age-specific birth rates. It’s really nice data, broken down by local health area. I’ve played with data on the Total Fertility Rate before. This time I wanted to highlight a far simpler transformation in birth rates that I’ll call the Great Wait!

What is the Great Wait? Basically, it’s the transformation in age-specific patterns of childbearing, whereby most women are having children later and later in the life course. When I was playing around with the BC Stats data I accidentally produced a chart illustrating the Great Wait, and I just thought it was too beautiful not to share.


Notice the gradual shift from peak childbearing in ages 25-29 (in 1989) to peak childbearing in ages 30-34 (in from 2003 onward). By 2005, more 35-39 year olds were having children than 20-24 year olds (so called “geriatric pregnancies” – which is like seriously a total FAIL in medical terminology). By 2010, the birth rates for 40-44 year olds began exceeding those of 15-19 year olds. We have fewer and fewer teen moms, and more and more new parents in their forties.

There are many interesting causes and implications of this shift. On average women are taking longer to develop their education and careers before having children than ever before, facilitated by improved contraception and assisted reproduction technology. It may also be that women just don’t feel as ready to settle down into motherhood as they used to – either because the alternatives remain too interesting or because they don’t feel prepared for the job of being a parent yet (I’ve explored this latter explanation with respect to the role of acquiring housing as a stage prop for the role of parenthood here in my academic work).

With respect to the implications, some of the childbearing delayed will inevitably be childbearing denied, as later-life pregnancies are biologically less certain for women, and some new risks are entailed. But on the whole, having children later means parents tend to be more committed and more prepared, with more resources at their disposal to help care for their children. Not a bad thing. On a technical note: the ongoing shifts in the timing of when women have children somewhat artificially inflate the magnitude of recent fertility declines. This is to suggest that 1.4 children (our estimate of the number of children women in BC have on average based on TFR measurement) is likely somewhat lower than the number of children the average of any given cohort of women will ultimately end up with. It’s kind of a demographer fixation.

The Things I Teach

I’m archiving my syllabi for current and recent undergraduate courses here on the blog, both for (ungated) student use and for public consumption. My courses all combine interactive lectures with student-led reading group discussions and some form of sustained research or building project.

Built Environments (2018) UBC SOCI 364: Syllabus-BuiltEnv2018

Sociology of the Life Course (2018) UBC SOCI 324:  Syllabus-LifeCourse-2018

Urban Sociology (2017) UBC SOCI 425-A:  UrbanSoc-Syllabus-2017

In the recent past, I’ve also taught graduate level courses (especially in Urban Sociology) and our undergraduate course in Research Methods. For other teaching scholars out there, please send me any suggestions for improvement! I’m especially interested in keeping my readings updated and interesting.

What Do Canadians Do All Day?

While preparing to teach my sociology of life course class, which is kind of like a sociology of time, I recently stumbled across the data tables from the Canadian Time Use Survey for 2015. This allows me to answer a very important question: what do Canadians do all day?

Of course different Canadians do different things.* But we can break them into a couple of broad groups to get some sense of the average number of hours they spend doing various things. It’s important to keep in mind that here that the averaging extends across both different people and different days (e.g. of the week, month, and year). Many people don’t record carrying out some of the activities described below at all, but they get averaged in with those who do. Others’ activities (e.g. paid work) may cycle so that active and inactive periods (like weekdays and weekends) average out (so a 40-hour work week averages to 5.7 hours a day).

Since I’ve got this life course theme and we’ve got data on age groups, let’s look at that. How does time use change between young adults, more middle-aged folks, and elders? We can split this out by gender too. I’ve color-coded activities so that sleep and personal care are in purple shades, work and study in green, travel in gray, unpaid homemaking work in orange, and leisured activities in blue. There are usually between one and two hours unaccounted for by this schema, coded in shades of off-white at the top.



Not surprisingly, young adults (age 15-24) spend more time studying than any other group. They’re the ones most likely still in school! But this time is balanced against working. Young men have strikingly more leisure time than young women, and they appear to spend a lot of it using “technology.” I suspect that means they’re playing video games for, like, an average of two hours a day, but there may be other interpretations (see footnote 24 in the original).

Folks closer to middle age spend a lot more time working, both for pay and at homemaking tasks (esp. childcare!) They also appear to spend the most time in personal vehicles. And they get less leisure time and less sleep than at other ages. But once again, men appear to get more leisure time than women.

How about those in retirement ages? Both men and women get a lot more leisure time (which they appear to spend largely watching TV). But do women catch up? Nope. Men still get the most leisure time, and the difference largely seems to come down to how much time is spent devoted to household chores instead. It’s certainly possible that some of those chores might also qualify as hobbies (e.g. cooking), and other things, like “personal care,” also help account for differences in time left over for leisure between men and women. But household chores and carework definitely remain gendered.

So, if you’re a Canadian man looking for a New Year’s resolution, here’s an easy one: take on more housework! (Note: this absolutely includes the author). The other big message for me is: I am not getting enough sleep! I mean seriously, I’m doing better than when my kids were really little, but 8 hours is still entirely aspirational.


*-An important caveat. As is so often the case, the General Social Survey doesn’t cover or claim to represent all Canadians.

The 2015 GSS collected data from persons aged 15 years and over living in private households in Canada, excluding residents of the Yukon, Northwest Territories and Nunavut and full time residents of institutions.