Thank you, Mr. Chair.
As we know, Canada is a country with two official languages, English and French. A number of people have taunted us—when I say “us”, I mean francophones—, saying that if it is a bilingual country we should speak English. When I see documents translated from English into French, I wonder whether we are truly a bilingual country. In a truly bilingual country, an anglophone and I, a francophone, could converse in our respective languages and we would understand each other. I can understand someone speaking English. Unfortunately, the opposite is not as often true.
The same thing goes for written information. The majority of the documents I read seem to have been written in English and translated into French. I say they have been translated, but actually they are a mess. It is enough to make me cry, in some cases. Let me give you an example. This does not pertain to anyone here, but it is quite striking. The phrase “deep dive analysis” is translated as “analyse en plongée”. I don't know how many of you can conduct an analysis while scuba diving, but I can't. That's a stupid example, but I have seen similar errors in countless documents.
As to Canada Post, the letter we received, Ms. El‑Hage, refers to a “neuronal translation tool”. I assume that is probably artificial intelligence or some kind of technology. To date, however, no technology has ever been able to achieve the same degree of accuracy as a translation produced by a human. To my mind, the best neuronal tool is still the brain, specifically, the human brain.
We are asked to make concessions. Given my first language, however, that means that I have to open both documents and constantly analyze the content in both languages to make sure I understand.
Those are the kinds of translations we have received. Some are good, while others, such as the example I gave, are enough to make you roll around on the floor. Depending on your personality, either you fall over laughing or you feel like curling up in a corner and crying.
If we ask for unredacted documents, it is not out of personal interest. I am not interested in reading 220,000 pages provided by public servants and 97,000 pages from McKinsey. I have four children; I have a family. I would simply like to understand. I understand that there is some sensitive information that people do not want to disclose, such as names and telephone numbers, but that is not what we are asking for. We want to know what kind of advice McKinsey provides and what its purpose is. We want to know who is making the decisions: is it McKinsey, another consulting firm or our public servants? Getting advice is fine, but at some point when it seems that every piece of advice given to the House of Commons comes straight from McKinsey, we are entitled to ask some questions and get answers.
I am not trying to rake you over the coals, but rather to make you recognize the importance of balance and equality between the two languages. If Canada is a bilingual country, documents must be written in both languages from the start. We cannot set aside part of the population and tell them to learn English if they want information. Anglophones rarely get that kind of reaction.
In your remarks, Mr. Shea, you said you wanted to respond to the committee's request and that translation into both official languages was a priority. You said that on behalf of everyone here. Of the 280 pages provided by the Privy Council Office, I understand there are still two paragraphs.
As for the others, if it is a priority, how important is it for us to receive documents that are properly translated, without part of the population, which is also entitled to information, having to make concessions?
