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Health care is not a commodity in Canada, or something doled out only when certain conditions are met; it’s a human right. And among all our rights, it might be the most crucial, since access to prompt treatment can often literally be a live-or-die situation. Playing petty politics with people’s access to health care shouldn’t be acceptable.
As imperfect as it is, our country’s universal health-care system is based on the simple notion that access should be based on need, not ability to pay. There’s widespread consensus that everyone — regardless of financial status — should be able to access health care quickly. Why should people’s linguistic status compromise that?
Despite French Language Minister Jean-François Roberge’s repeated assertions that health-care access won’t be affected and requires no additional conditions before help is provided in English, the Health Ministry’s directives say otherwise. In addition, some Quebecers who are plaintiffs in lawsuits against the government over Bill 96 are in that situation because they say their access to health care in the language of their choice was in fact compromised. Roberge’s posts on social media seem like nothing more than a public-relations exercise unless they’re followed by amendments to existing rules that assuage people’s concerns, clear up all confusion once and for all, and explicitly state that eligibility certificates have no business in hospitals.
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Any health-care worker worth their salt will tell you that access to timely, quality, comprehensive treatment is the No. 1 determinant of a society’s public health. Doctors have both a legal and moral duty to give their patients all the information they need to make free and informed decisions and give free and informed consent.
Studies show that citizens who experience barriers in accessing health care because of fear, confusion over rules, or language and literacy challenges have a far greater chance of skipping or postponing care, and that those barriers are associated with unequal health outcomes. Not only does this not benefit these people, it doesn’t benefit society at large. The sooner health problems are addressed, the better, from both public health and cost-benefit perspectives.
The most morally objectionable thing about such directives is that those dreaming them up are part of a socioeconomic class with far easier access to health care if they were to need it, with a strong support system around them.
The people most affected by legislation that would seek to limit or needlessly complicate access to health care are society’s most vulnerable. People who just arrived, don’t speak the language well yet and don’t know their legal rights. Allophone seniors who may have a limited knowledge of French, whose children long ago left the province and who have no one to advocate for them in a hospital setting. English-speaking seniors in Quebec’s regions, who studies show already experience a hard time accessing services in their mother tongue.
Bill 96’s new restrictions would penalize and disproportionately affect those already encountering significant barriers to health care and social services. Push aside the whataboutism of those who point to the lack of services for francophones in the rest of the country — as if Quebec’s English speakers have any political power to affect decisions in other jurisdictions — and I’m convinced most Quebecers know nothing about any of this is morally right.
Toula Drimonis is a Montreal journalist and the author of We, the Others: Allophones, Immigrants, and Belonging in Canada. She can be reached on X @toulastake
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