Is it possible to ask childless women why they do not have children?

 An unusually large scandal has shaken public life in Estonia. A survey planned in collaboration between a foundation's research institute and Estonia's largest university (University of Tartu) had to be halted after outrage swept through the country due to the questions and background of the questionnaire.

In short: The creators of the questionnaire obtained data on childless women from the Estonian population registry and sent questionnaires to tens of thousands of women, inquiring about their sexual orientation, political preferences, and why they do not have children.

Before I delve further into the background of the matter, let's pause at this level for a moment. Not least because several critical voices have already found these questions to be problematic.

Can a sociologist ask why women do not have children?

My short answer: yes, they can.

Sociology examines social phenomena, and population reproduction is a social phenomenon. The birth rate in a country has been measured and recorded for decades, if not centuries, and it is one of the most important statistical indicators of a given society. Thousands of research studies, articles, and books deal with the phenomenon of why the number of childbearing instances is declining in developed countries around the world.

The question is relevant even if it is conflict-ridden. In fact, that's precisely what makes it relevant. It's not worth inquiring about phenomena with sociological tools when the vast majority of people unanimously hold the same opinion.

Perhaps that's why there are no questionnaires in circulation about cannibalism as a possible form of nutrition, or about the issue of sexual relations within the family. Both are taboo in today's societies and (so far) we don't see any movements that challenge these taboos. (I would interject here that these are still social constructs, no matter how deeply rooted they are, so there may still be surprises in store for us).

But the role of women within society is not such a clear-cut question.

And let's go further into the story at this point. The independent (so-called) research institute is an organization founded and sponsored by the political party called Isamaa (Homeland - but if we want to translate it with a slightly stronger connotation, let's note that in German, this expression literally means "Fatherland"). This conservative-liberal party (yes, such a thing exists: stone conservative on social issues and extremely market-friendly on economic ones) has been working with strong narratives for years, such as:

"When the future of the nation is at stake, it is legitimate to ask whether the individual freedom rights of women or the existence of the nation take precedence." - this is literally stated in political declarations.

So, there is this medieval-natured political archaism, whose research institute, commissioned by the party, decides to ask women why they are not having enough children for the nation's survival.

Estonia is a country with 1.3 million inhabitants. Of this number, there may be about 900,000 of Estonian ethnicity, and this number is constantly decreasing, as the number of births is lower than the number of deaths. The population in Estonia has slightly increased in recent years, but the main reasons for this were the return of previously emigrated Estonians and migration initiated by the startup culture. Demographically, they are doing better than many other post-socialist countries, but they still do not reach the birth rate necessary even to maintain the population level. The idea of national death is constantly and continually present in public life.

Therefore, a political ideology, and even a political act, immediately connects to the basic sociological inquiry, with its exploratory nature. With Isamaa as the commissioner of the research, it's unquestionable that the data is needed for the representation and implementation of this policy. I note that this, in itself, is neither illegal nor unethical. All good public policies are based on empirical data. If they want to understand why children are not being born, the best thing they can do is ask those who could have children.

This research institute (which is a foundation - so roughly the Estonian version of "Századvég") also has a board, whose members are renowned university professors from social sciences and specifically the field of population policy. In the Estonian system, universities have special privileges to access databases, including the population registry.

The dean of the Faculty of Social Sciences at the University of Tartu, Estonia's largest and most prestigious university, which is a few years older than Hungary's ELTE and was founded by the Swedes in 1632, is also a member of the board of the foundation that operates the research institute. Following proper procedures, the dean signs a contract on behalf of the university with the foundation, thereby gaining access to the population registry.

Those with keen ears may notice here that there is no tendering process. In Estonia, this is by no means trivial; this is where the whole story really starts to go downhill. Because not only is there no tendering, but access to the database and the sending of questionnaires based on the acquired personal data takes place without the university's ethical committee having granted permission for the research.

In Estonia, research cannot be conducted without the permission of the research ethics committee delegated to the University of Tartu. This committee monitors data protection, ethical issues, and certain methodological questions as well. It was later revealed that the application had been submitted, but the research began even before the committee could have seen it. Someone here was very, very confident in their power.

The story collapsed when tens of thousands of women received the questionnaire, and uproar ensued. When it was revealed who was behind the research, the mood became hysterical. The questionnaire also asked for personal information such as email addresses and phone numbers, with the justification that respondents might need to be contacted with follow-up questions. In such a small country, the existence of 2-3 pieces of information is perfectly sufficient for personal identification.

In a country where it happened twice that virtually the entire intelligentsia of the tiny nation was rounded up in a single night based on pre-existing lists and put on trains bound for Siberia, imagine the impact of such an incident. Consider the scenario where every mayor, teacher, librarian, local representative, priest, anyone who is educated or influential, is systematically rounded up based on carefully collected lists, driven from their beds, and put on trains. This is exactly what happened in Estonia (and the other two Baltic countries). It left such deep and severe scars in the Estonians that in many places even today, empty houses still stand in the forest as mementos, with collapsed, moss-covered roofs, like some silent scream. No one touches them... perhaps they might return.

Besides the dean, other leading scientists were also involved in preparing the investigation, and now the air around them has become very heated.

Estonian society is torn along different lines than Hungarian society. Imagine a political spectrum where liberal, Western, cosmopolitan, and modern ideas have a stable 30% and very active support. This segment of Estonian society drives innovation there, along with digital and startup culture. Another 30% is made up of the conservative, national-minded layer (interestingly liberal in economic matters as well), primarily among those living in rural areas. The remaining 40% tends to sway in one direction or the other, and election results usually lead to some form of compromise coalition rather than a winner-takes-all solution.

But the tension is there, and if the pendulum swings too far in one direction or the other, significant forces are set in motion from the opposing side. This is happening now with quite a battle cry.

The national side is clamoring about crisis, national death, and biopolitical intervention, while the strong liberal bloc, led by the female Prime Minister, takes offense at the idea of older, middle-class men dictating to them what should be done, reducing women's roles and value in society to childbearing.

From my own perspective, I consider it very important to stress that posing the question itself is not problematic. Very serious procedural and research ethical principles were ignored here, and the arrogance that makes my blood boil as well. But I did note to my Estonian colleagues as part of the debate that conservatives have every right to pose questions about social phenomena to those affected. However, they are also bound by the related ethical, methodological, and procurement rules.

This story has no lessons for Hungary. The idea of politics based on numbers and research results is considered long outdated there. The narrative shapes the data, and if the data don't line up, they might just give a disapproving look to the Hungarian Central Statistical Office (KSH) and put together a few tables. Real research takes place in the depths, in secret, and only the spin doctors have access to it for narrative creation.

In Estonia, as we can see, the fight is still over numbers; they only want to hack the way the research is done, but the research itself is still important. Seeing the extent of the scandal, it will remain important for now. So the situation is rather reassuring.