Reliability is a funny thing.
Often mistakenly interchanged with perfection, the idea that something or someone can be relied on does not necessarily mean that it does exactly everything and anything it is meant to do all the time, any time.
If a car has to make a few trips to the mechanic throughout its entire eight to 15 years of usage, that does not mean it is unreliable. That means it's a car.
As long as it does not break down multiple times in a year, the car is reliable. It still performs the transportation function it was designed to do, and it still does so in an honest and accurate way.
The same basic logic can be applied to the decennial census.
No, it is not perfect.
Since the government cannot generally force people to do something, though it can present incentive through positive or negative reinforcement, everyone in America can never really be counted. Coupled with the fact that a new baby is born in this country every eight seconds and it is near impossible to track everyone down in the first place, even if the U.S. Census Bureau somehow overcame these obstacles, no doubt a number of the last few people left uncounted would take great pride in this and become a certain brand of expert fugitives.
Yet, these limitations are OK, because that is not what the census purports to be.
It does not claim to be a flawless head count of the American population. Though it may strive toward this goal, it maintains a practicality that such a possibility is merely a pipe dream and working toward the essentially abstract concept is just as good.
Thus, the aim of the census is not to be an exact, concrete number to be looked at in reverence of completion. It is merely the best guess about certain aspects of a nation's identity, which can then be used to help that entity grow.
That is why, though the decennial census may be the bureau's largest focus and most important endeavor, various other actions like the American Community Survey are carried out in the intervening years. This way, no finite, unchangeable number is ever really desired, because we are in a constant state of motion and such a figure would be useless.
When the census' goal becomes clearer, however, one can see that it is not just a waste of taxpayer money.
Take a look at congressional seats and the state senate. Or maybe programs like Medicare, Head Start and food stamps. Don't forget public construction like repaved roads and new on-ramps.
If the census was not the least bit reliable, none of this would exist, and even if it did millions would be in an uproar about their poor setup and execution.
By using the census data, government officials, businesses, banks and various other entities are able to mold themselves around the masses' shapes, needs and actions, which is exactly how it should be.
Sure, one could make that argument that with participation rates barely surpassing the two-thirds mark, the census does not reflect enough of the public to really address its issues.
Carrying this belief into other areas of government, however, would practically render the country an anarchy. It would have no president. Few bills would be passed. And most politicians would just sit around twiddling their thumbs (more so).
Like a majority of America's best attributes, the census embodies the most reliable of all concepts — compromise. And that concept gains even more reliability when it leads to the eventual action so many demand.
Alec Surmani is an associate editor of The Advocate. Contact him at asurmani.advocate@gmail.com

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