This report examines how recent newcomers living in Scarborough learn about and use free community and settlement services, and why many do not access them.It aims to identify information and service accessibility, challenges, and gaps for newcomers who have lived in Canada less than five years and have used only one or no settlement services.The stated objective is “to consult recent immigrants to identify information and service accessibilities, challenges in accessing services and gaps in services.”
The research responds to a concern from local service providers that many government‑funded newcomer programs (language classes, information sessions, etc.) are underused despite extensive outreach. Federal and provincial governments fund not‑for‑profit agencies to support settlement, but many newcomers either have not heard of these services or are not using them, prompting this needs‑assessment pilot in Scarborough.The project focuses specifically on newcomers with very limited service use, and deliberately recruited a diverse sample by age, gender, country of origin, and status (PR, refugee, claimant, international student, work permit), which makes the findings particularly relevant for “harder‑to‑reach” groups.
A large proportion of participants were very recent arrivals: about 80% had been in Canada for two years or less, and half had lived in Scarborough less than one year. Thirteen percent had not heard of any listed services, and 19% had not used any; overall, about 21% had used no services and 16% had used only one, while only about 23% had used two or more. Language training, employment services and income support were the best‑known and most used services, while legal services, pre‑arrival services, recreation/support groups and social groups were least known and least used.
When comparing service knowledge versus use, health and settlement services were the most used relative to awareness, whereas recreation and education programs were used the least among those who knew about them. Newcomers in Canada for two years or less actually accessed several services (health, settlement, language, housing, legal, income support) at higher rates than those living in Canada longer than two years. For example, around 80% of recent newcomers who had heard about health and settlement services used them, compared with lower percentages among those in Canada over two years.
Lack of information emerged as a dominant barrier: among respondents who had used only one or no services, 56% said they “didn’t know about the services available for new immigrants,” which represents about 23% of all respondents. Among those aware of services, other key reasons for not using them included believing they were “not eligible” (18%—notably, 85% of these had been in Canada less than two years, suggesting misinformation), work‑time conflicts (15%), not speaking English or French (13%), child‑care responsibilities (10%), staff not speaking their language (10%), and relying on online information or family/friends.
Friends and family were the primary information source: nearly half heard about services from friends, followed by online search (23%), with smaller shares citing settlement agencies, schools, airport information packages and neighbours. When asked what services they wanted closer to home, employment services were the top demand (31%), followed by sports/recreation (23%), and then, at equal levels (15%), socializing groups, mental health services, language training and education programs; 8% wanted nearby child care, citizenship classes, free health services for international students and help applying for government benefits.
An interesting pattern was that recent newcomers (≤2 years) used some key services more than those who had been in Canada longer, challenging assumptions that longer stay automatically increases service use. Another notable observation was that many women, especially those interviewed at EarlyON centres, had started language programs but discontinued after having their first child and were unable to return because of household and child‑care responsibilities and travel barriers. The report also notes that respondents had “no knowledge” of online LINC and online employment services such as webinars and resume support, even though they expressed strong interest in online options.
For service providers and LIPs
Organizations can use these findings to redesign outreach and service delivery so that information reaches newcomers earlier and through trusted channels such as friends, family networks and online platforms. The report suggests bringing services “closer to home,” expanding online and evening/weekend options, providing TTC fare assistance, improving the clarity and detail of service information, and ensuring staff can speak key community languages and are perceived as friendly and understanding. Service providers are also encouraged to explore more effective outreach methods, particularly targeting newcomers who have been in Canada less than two years and women with caregiving responsibilities.
For policymakers and funders
Funders can use the evidence on underused services and key barriers (time, language, child care, transportation, information gaps) to support flexible, community‑based and digital delivery models rather than only centre‑based, weekday programming. The strong interest in employment services, recreation, mental health supports, social groups, and child care near home points to investment priorities for neighbourhood‑level hubs in Scarborough.
For researchers and academics
The authors explicitly state that service provider organizations “must research further” to identify more effective outreach strategies because many newcomers lack access to information about settlement programs. Future research could build on this pilot by using larger, more representative samples, translated surveys, and qualitative interviews to explore why longer‑term newcomers may use some services less and how gender, caregiving and legal status shape access.
The Access to Current and Relevant Information Action Group of the Toronto East Quadrant LIP designed a structured survey tool to enable quantitative analysis, including correlations. The tool was reviewed and simplified in collaboration with Partnership Council members and adult educators, then field‑tested with six international and newcomer students at Centennial College to check clarity and timing.Non‑probability sampling was used; 120 surveys were completed (29 online, 91 in person) between November 2019 and mid‑January 2020 at malls, libraries, EarlyON centres and community colleges across Scarborough.
Respondents were newcomers to Scarborough who arrived in Canada within the last five years, with an emphasis on those who had accessed only one or no settlement services.The sample was diverse: most were aged 18–40 (about 23% between 18–40 and 37% specifically 18–30), 65% identified as female, and respondents came mainly from South Asia (45%) and East Asia (35%), with smaller numbers from the Middle East, Africa, the Americas and Europe. Twenty‑six languages were represented; while 45% said they could speak English, only 8% spoke English at home, where Mandarin, Tamil and Hindi were most common.
This research synthesizes findings from empirical studies on how digital technologies (DTs) are used with immigrant plurilingual language learners in educational settings. Its explores contexts, methods, and outcomes of technology use for facilitating language learning and plurilingual teaching practices, as well as to assess how much current research integrates plurilingual approaches.
Abstract:
With massive migratory flows observed around the world, schools are experiencing an unprecedented increase in the enrolment of children who speak multiple languages. Educators are called upon to facilitate immigrant plurilingual students’ inclusion and development of functional competencies in the target language(s), often using digital technologies (DTs) to promote language learning and plurilingual teaching practices. The results highlight that DTs are used in heterogeneous contexts to support the development of immigrant plurilingual students’ overall language proficiency, (multi)literacies, engagement, as well as identity development. However, teachers and learners may require additional support to use DTs and plurilingual practices to their full potential. These concerns point to the need for ongoing professional learning and contextualised supports for educators at the intersection of these areas.
This research addresses the increasing need to support immigrant students who speak multiple languages due to global migration. Plurilingual learners face challenges adapting to new languages and educational cultures, affected by factors such as access to technology, prior educational experience, and the social and political context of schools. DTs are posited as tools to foster inclusion, language acquisition, and identity formation, but their effectiveness depends on teacher readiness, policy flexibility, and meaningful integration into classroom practices. The synthesis is unique for its focus on digital tools in supporting not only language proficiency but also multiliteracy, engagement, and identity for immigrant children.
Key findings show that:
There is a discrepancy between educational and non-educational uses of digital tech among immigrant students, aligned with findings for non-immigrant peers.
For Educators and Schools:
For Policymakers and Administrators:
For Researchers:
The article examines how undocumented Venezuelan migrants traveling through Central America toward the United States‑Mexico border navigate a landscape of “information precarity” and confront disinformation. The authors set out to answer three guiding questions:
Report abstract:
“This article develops a phenomenological approach to examine the intersection of global migration and rising concerns about disinformation… Drawing on interviews with Venezuelans en route to the United States‑Mexico border through Central America, the article analyzes how undocumented migrants live amid information precarity, how they relate to disinformation, and how disinformation affects their decisions… The article thus advocates for a deeper exploration of migrants’ sociocultural beliefs rather than focusing solely on issues such as information accuracy, accessibility, flows, and platforms when accounting for disinformation.”
Global migration is accelerating; the International Organization for Migration estimates that 281 million people are on the move, representing roughly 3.6 % of the world’s population. At the same time, scholars warn of a growing wave of deliberate disinformation designed to sow confusion for political gain. Migrants, especially those without legal status, experience a distinctive form of “information precarity”—a qualitative feeling of insecurity that leaves them susceptible to rumors, misleading content, and manipulation.
Most existing research treats disinformation as a problem of inaccurate facts or platform design. This study departs from that tradition by applying a phenomenological lens: it foregrounds migrants’ lived experience, cultural beliefs, and especially their religious convictions. By doing so, it reframes the issue from a purely technical or informational deficit to a deeply social and affective phenomenon. The work is also unique because it draws on fresh, in‑depth interviews with a specific cohort—Venezuelan migrants temporarily in Costa Rica—providing ground‑level insight into a population that is often studied only through macro‑level statistics.
The interviewees displayed a pervasive distrust of mainstream media. They described news outlets as “lying a lot” and often avoided news altogether, preferring to rely on what they could see with their own eyes. One participant summed this up: “I only believe in what my own eyes see, because I no longer know who to really believe.”
Instead of traditional news, migrants turned to a handful of digital platforms, such as Facebook, TikTok, and especially WhatsApp, to gather information, share tips, and maintain contact with family. Visual content on these platforms served as “public images,” helping travelers visualize risks and routes. A respondent recalled that videos “went viral on ‘Face’ [Facebook], TikTok, and Kwai,” providing concrete guidance for crossing dangerous terrain.
Personal networks were central to the exchange of (dis)information. WhatsApp, in particular, functioned as a lifeline for daily coordination: “We exchange WhatsApp numbers and keep each other informed: ‘Look, I’m in this place now, you need to go this way…’” participants explained. Yet the flow of information was not always truthful; some migrants admitted to deliberately altering or withholding facts when they believed it would protect them or improve their chances of receiving aid. One interviewee noted, “We don’t tell them that we are begging… If we did tell relatives the truth, they would fly us back on a plane.”
Religion emerged as a powerful anchor. Across the interviews, Christian faith was invoked as the ultimate source of guidance, often outweighing any secular information source. Statements such as “We always trust in God, and we follow the path” illustrate how migrants framed uncertainty and risk within a spiritual worldview. This “mixed rationalities”, the combination of experiential observation and religious belief, provided a stable reference point amid chaotic information flows.
Overall, the study concludes that information is secondary for these migrants. While they consume incidental content, they do not actively seek it to reduce risk; instead, they rely on personal experience, trusted personal contacts, and divine guidance to navigate their journeys.
One striking theme is the concept of “mixed rationalities,” where migrants blend pragmatic, sensory knowledge with deep religious conviction, creating a dual epistemic framework that cushions the anxiety produced by uncertain information. Another notable finding is the reliance on visual symbols—such as colored bags indicating safe routes—which function as informal, trusted signage that often supersedes official warnings.
An outlier emerges in the strategic use of misinformation: rather than being merely victims, some migrants purposefully fabricate or omit information to safeguard themselves, demonstrating agency in an otherwise precarious environment. Finally, the double‑edged nature of mobile technology is evident; phones enable rapid coordination and access to vital updates, yet they also expose migrants to tracking, scams, and rumor cascades.
Humanitarian NGOs and aid organizations can redesign information campaigns to honor migrants’ religious worldview and embed messages within trusted community rituals. Co‑producing short video testimonies with faith leaders, distributing low‑bandwidth safety alerts via WhatsApp, and providing printed guides that reference familiar visual cues (like bag colors) would likely increase uptake.
Policymakers and migration authorities should recognize that top‑down warnings are often dismissed. Partnering with migrant peer networks, formalizing community liaison roles for those who have completed the route, and issuing multilingual SMS alerts that echo migrants’ existing symbolic language can improve the credibility of official communications.
Academics and researchers are invited to extend the phenomenological approach to other migration corridors and to test the “mixed rationalities” model quantitatively. Comparative ethnographies across different cultural and religious contexts could reveal whether the observed interplay between faith and information holds more broadly.
Technology companies and platform designers might develop features that mitigate misinformation while preserving privacy for vulnerable users. Options could include verified migrant groups with limited membership, anonymity modes to reduce fear of surveillance, and tools that surface trusted visual symbols.
Practitioners in counter‑disinformation should shift from pure fact‑checking toward contextual framing that acknowledges migrants’ lived experience and spirituality. Providing “context cards” that pair factual corrections with culturally resonant narratives may prove more persuasive than isolated debunking.
The authors also suggest avenues for future research: investigating the impact of AI‑generated content on migrant information ecosystems, conducting cross‑regional studies to see if the religiosity‑information dynamic persists in non‑Christian migrant groups, and testing prototype interventions (such as faith‑aligned messaging) for effectiveness in reducing harmful rumor uptake. These recommendations are directed at both practitioners seeking actionable guidance and scholars aiming to deepen theoretical understanding.
The study adopts a qualitative, phenomenological design. Between July and October 2023, the researchers conducted 25 in‑person, semi‑structured interviews with Venezuelan migrants temporarily residing in Costa Rica. Participants ranged from 21 to 50 years old, with a slight female majority (16 women, 9 men) and an average age of about 30. Interviews were carried out in Spanish, recorded, and transcribed with informed consent, following approval from an institutional review board.
The interview protocol focused on two main domains: everyday information and communication practices (including mobile phone and platform usage) and encounters with disinformation (covering perceived risks, sources of information, and trust in media). Data analysis followed an inductive grounded‑theory approach, moving from open coding to the development of six overarching themes: migration experience; information and communication practices; encounters with disinformation; role of social media; individual life experiences; and religion in migration.
While the sample is modest and confined to a single geographic context, the depth of the narratives provides rich insight into the phenomenological dimensions of migrants’ information environments. The authors acknowledge that the emergence of AI as a new variable and the limited scope of the sample suggest directions for broader, comparative investigations.
This study explores how patients, caregivers, and community stakeholders can be meaningfully involved throughout the life‑cycle of artificial‑intelligence (AI) tools for population‑health interventions. It asks:
The approach, questions, findings, and recommendations are relevant well beyond the specific scope of population health and technology.
What is this research about?
What do you need to know?
What did the researchers find?
What are some particularly interesting themes and outlier findings?
How can you use this research?
What did the researchers do?
This research investigates how technology-enabled innovations can enhance language learning programs for newcomers to Canada, especially as language skills become increasingly vital for successful social and economic integration in a rapidly diversifying nation.
The research aims to review and recommend improvements in Canadian language assessment frameworks, training programs, and the integration of emerging digital technologies for language learning. Key guiding questions include the effectiveness of technology in language instruction and barriers to access and outcomes.
From the report: “This report provides a comprehensive review of Canada’s language assessment frameworks, training programs, and emerging technology-enabled innovations. Our review highlights the need for stronger evaluation frameworks to measure the intended outcomes of language training programs and improve programming. As such, this report provides recommendations for the improved integration and implementation of technology in language training programs.”
Technology-enhanced innovations such as artificial intelligence, multimedia, mobile learning, online platforms, and virtual/augmented reality are advancing how newcomers learn English and French. Context is important. Canada’s population includes the highest proportion of immigrants among G7 countries, and demand for effective language training outpaces supply, with uneven access and outcomes.
Programs like Language Instruction for Newcomers to Canada (LINC) and Cours de langue pour les immigrants au Canada (CLIC) adhere to federally-backed standards, but their technology integration is inconsistent and often limited to platforms designed for settlement agencies. What makes this research unique is its deep analysis of both Canadian and international assessment frameworks (CLB, NCLC, CEFR, PIAAC) and its focus on technology’s promise for personalization, digital equity, and bridging the “digital divide,” particularly in smaller communities and among vulnerable newcomers.
Key highlights and outcomes include:
For policymakers:
For newcomer organizations and instructors:
For academia and future research:
The methodology is a multi-method, multi-stakeholder review coordinated by the Diversity Institute for the Future Skills Centre. Activities include:
The study investigates digital equity and inclusion in settlement‑service delivery for newcomers living in the Peel Region of Ontario. The report uncovers persistent digital inequities for newcomers in Peel, such as language, digital‑skill, and awareness barriers, while highlighting the critical role of hybrid service models and community partnerships (libraries, device‑loan schemes).
Newcomers in Peel fall into three distinct groups that are less likely to use digital settlement services. First, many lack basic digital skills; they may be comfortable making phone calls or sending texts but cannot navigate browsers, join video calls, or share screens. Second, a sizable portion struggle with English or French, and the limited, often inaccurate, translation tools available make online portals feel unintelligible. Third, newcomers who arrive as spouses or children of already‑settled family members tend to rely on that family for guidance and therefore see little need to engage with digital platforms.
Language emerged as the most pervasive obstacle. Even when translation options exist, participants described them as “not accurate, leaving room for misinterpretation,” which forces them back to in‑person visits. Digital‑skill gaps compound this problem; interviewees explained that they could “use their phones for calling and texting, but were unable to use internet on it to access and engage with online content.” Privacy and security worries also discouraged use—mandatory webcam requirements and vague data‑handling policies left many “hesitant to use digital settlement services.”
Awareness proved another hidden barrier. A notable share of newcomers believed services were only offered face‑to‑face, and only about two‑thirds of the broader newcomer population were actually aware of the IRCC‑funded resources. Yet, despite these challenges, providers reported that 73% of surveyed organizations reported that newcomers frequently utilized digital services rather face to face services, while 17% reported they occasionally utilized digital services. Many praised the flexibility and cost‑effectiveness of online options. Still, they stressed that digital tools cannot fully replace the trust and emotional reassurance that come from human interaction, especially for older newcomers or those with limited digital confidence.
An unexpected finding was the protective role of family support: newcomers who arrived with settled relatives often bypassed digital services entirely, assuming their family could meet most settlement needs. The study also highlighted successful mitigation strategies, such as device‑loan programs and partnerships with public libraries that supply free internet and hardware, demonstrating concrete ways to bridge the access gap.
Overall, the report’s recommendations point toward a coordinated, hybrid service model that preserves the convenience of digital delivery while retaining the human connection essential for trust, empowerment, and successful settlement.
Settlement service providers can use the findings to redesign intake processes, adding quick digital‑literacy assessments that identify clients needing extra support. By producing multilingual, audio‑visual guides that minimize heavy text and offering optional “camera‑off” virtual appointments, agencies can lower language and privacy barriers. Strengthening collaborations with libraries and expanding device‑loan schemes can directly address cost and connectivity issues.
Policymakers and funding bodies, such as IRCC and municipal authorities, can channel resources toward creating multilingual digital content, enforcing privacy‑by‑design standards for settlement platforms, and supporting regional “digital equity hubs” that combine technology access with community outreach. Community organizations can run targeted awareness campaigns, recruit settled newcomers as peer mentors, and host hybrid workshops that blend language instruction with hands‑on device training.
Technology vendors and platform designers are also urged to integrate easy‑toggle language selections, improve machine‑translation accuracy, provide low‑bandwidth interface options, and embed clear consent flows for video sessions. By aligning product design with the lived experiences highlighted in the report, developers can create tools that feel safer and more accessible to newcomers.
The research team employed a comprehensive mixed‑methods design. They began with a systematic document scan of academic articles, government reports, news pieces, and community studies spanning the previous fifteen years, using keywords such as “digital equity,” “digital inclusion,” and “digital divide” for newcomers.
Quantitative insight came from analyzing demographic data collected by the Peel Multicultural Council’s Digital Literacy Exchange Program, which ran four cohorts between 2019 and 2023, each comprising 300 to 600 participants. This dataset illuminated which demographic groups—particularly seniors, women, low‑income households, and those without English as a first language—were under‑represented in digital service use.
Qualitative depth was achieved through twenty‑five semi‑structured interviews with newcomers conducted from May to July 2024. Eighteen participants were interviewed individually (via Zoom or in person), while seven took part in a group interview held at the Peel Multicultural Centre. Interviewees had arrived in Canada within the past ten years and represented a broad spectrum of ages, genders, ethnicities, and education levels.
To capture the perspective of service providers, the researchers distributed an online SurveyMonkey questionnaire to seventeen IRCC‑funded settlement organizations operating in Peel. The survey yielded thirty responses from managers and front‑line staff, gathering information on training received, comfort with digital tools, perceived barriers, and mitigation strategies.
Finally, the team applied the Digital Equity Ecosystems Measurement Framework (Rhinesmith & Santo 2022) to organize findings into four domains—Digital Access, Digital Inclusion, Digital Equity, and Safety in Digital Spaces—allowing a structured equity analysis. Appendices detail participant demographics, the full methodological protocol, the document‑scan results, and the complete equity‑analysis matrix.
This study maps the Responsible AI (R‑AI) ecosystem in the United Kingdom, tracing its conceptual evolution, historical development, and present‑day structure. Before 2017, “responsible AI” was a loosely used banner, often lumped together with “AI ethics,” “trustworthy AI,” or “AI for good.” The study argues that a chronological account from the 1950s to today’s generative‑AI era reveals persistent divides and missed connections among disciplines, geographies, and stakeholder groups.
Its seven lessons function as a practical checklist for anyone tasked with steering AI development toward socially beneficial outcomes, whether you are drafting policy, building products, conducting research, or advocating for affected communities. By treating the ecosystem as a living, mutable network rather than a problem to be solved, the report invites continuous, interdisciplinary stewardship.
Viewing Responsible AI as an interconnected ecosystem helps capture the flows between research, governance, product development, and impacted communities. Yet the metaphor also exposes “divide‑walls”—disciplinary, geographic, institutional, and sectoral barriers that impede the free exchange of ideas and resources.
Policymakers and regulators can draw on the historical baseline and the seven lessons to craft AI strategies, standards, and funding calls that require genuine stakeholder engagement, post‑deployment monitoring, and incentives for arts‑humanities collaborations. Practical steps include mandating co‑design with impacted communities, embedding sociotechnical safety metrics in procurement, and allocating public funds to interdisciplinary pilot projects.
Industry leaders and product managers are warned against “ethics‑washing.” They should create cross‑functional R‑AI units that include humanities scholars, develop transparent remuneration pathways for creative contributors, and adopt adaptive governance dashboards that track sociocultural impact indicators alongside technical performance.
Academic researchers (both STEM and humanities) can use the map to locate disciplinary silos and identify fertile ground for joint grants that pair technical AI labs with arts‑humanities departments. Publishing case studies of community‑engaged R‑AI projects will help build an evidence base for ecosystem‑tending practices.
Civil‑society organisations and NGOs gain a clear picture of the existing actor landscape and a vocabulary for advocacy. They can leverage the seven lessons to frame campaigns for stronger public participation in AI governance and to build coalitions with artistic collectives that amplify cultural critiques of AI deployments.
Practitioners in the creative sector (musicians, visual artists, designers) see concrete examples—such as the P3R fellowship—that address remuneration and credit for AI‑augmented work. Engaging with these initiatives can help negotiate fair‑use licences, demand provenance metadata for datasets, and influence the design of AI tools that respect artistic ownership.
Future‑research directions highlighted by the authors include longitudinal studies of ecosystem‑tending interventions, comparative cross‑national analyses, and deep dives into specific “responsibility gaps” for emerging generative‑AI modalities. These suggestions are aimed primarily at academics, funding bodies, and policy think‑tanks that wish to shape the next phase of Responsible‑AI work.
This study investigates how technology influences society and what can be done to improve those social impacts. The document discusses responsible innovation in Canada, focusing on understanding and improving the social impacts of technology through collaboration among various stakeholders. The authors explore responsible innovation in Canada, focusing on understanding and improving the social impacts of technology through collaboration among various stakeholders. They ask:
1. What are the social impacts of technology that need improvement?
2. Which high‑level principles (anticipation, inclusion, justice, etc.) best guide responsible innovation?
3. How can those principles be operationalized across the entire innovation lifecycle (investment → use)?
The report offers a comprehensive, practice‑oriented synthesis of how Canada can steer technology toward socially beneficial outcomes. By articulating clear principles, exposing gaps in responsibility and regulation, and offering concrete tools for each phase of the innovation process, the study equips policymakers, industry leaders, investors, educators, and civil‑society actors with a roadmap for responsible innovation that is both ambitious and grounded in real‑world experience.
The report emphasizes the significance of ethical technology in addressing social and environmental challenges. The backdrop for the research is the rapid acceleration of digital adoption triggered by the COVID‑19 pandemic, combined with the emergence of powerful new tools such as artificial intelligence, open‑data platforms, and automated decision‑making systems.
These developments have outpaced existing Canadian legal instruments, particularly the Charter of Rights and Freedoms and the Personal Information Protection and Electronic Documents Act, leaving a policy vacuum around the social consequences of emerging technologies. Practitioners repeatedly told the authors that the proliferation of fragmented guidelines (human‑rights‑based frameworks, the EU’s Responsible Research & Innovation, ESG standards, etc.) makes it difficult to translate high‑level ideals into day‑to‑day practice.
The study offers a broad literature review with fresh, in‑depth qualitative data gathered from more than eighteen practitioners representing industry, academia, civil‑society NGOs, and government. By keeping the term “technology” deliberately open, interviewees were free to discuss the full spectrum of their work, considering AI, climate‑tech, contact‑tracing apps, and more, providing a panoramic view of the challenges and opportunities that cut across sectors.
Across the interviews, six core principles for ethical technology repeatedly surfaced:
Participants described anticipation as a shift from reacting to problems after they appear toward proactively identifying and mitigating adverse effects early in the design process. Inclusion and diversity were portrayed not merely as a checkbox but as a driver that brings a richer set of perspectives to every stage of a project. Justice and fairness called for a systematic examination of who bears disproportionate burdens and for mechanisms that empower historically marginalized groups.
A striking finding was the prevalence of “diffusion of responsibility.” When responsibilities are not clearly allocated, innovators can become overwhelmed, while at the same time the burden can be scattered so thinly that no party feels accountable. One interviewee summed this up: “There is a risk of either over‑implicating innovators … or sharing responsibility diffusely, with the potential for investors, users, innovators, policymakers, and others able to shift blame.”
The study also highlighted that high‑level principles alone are insufficient; practitioners need stage‑specific tools. For example, privacy‑by‑design and safety‑by‑design frameworks help embed anticipation into the design phase, while algorithmic impact assessments, participatory technology assessments, and ESG‑focused investing provide concrete ways to operationalize justice and inclusion later on.
Public engagement emerged as a pivotal lever. Effective engagement was described as early, upstream, diverse, iterative, and purpose‑driven—far from the tokenistic “check‑box” consultations that many participants warned against. The Sidewalk Labs smart‑city project served as a cautionary tale: a vendor‑led consultation that failed to earn genuine community trust ultimately contributed to the project’s cancellation.
Finally, the researchers observed a tension between government‑led regulation and market‑led self‑regulation. Government policies were praised for providing a universal “floor” of standards and enforceable rules, whereas market initiatives offered agility but suffered from “ethics‑washing” when firms used superficial ethical statements without substantive accountability. Education and training were repeatedly cited as essential across all stakeholder groups, from public‑facing cyber‑hygiene campaigns to university curricula that embed ethics into engineering and data‑science programs.
Beyond the six core principles, several especially noteworthy threads emerged. First, the notion of “anticipation” was framed not merely as risk management but as a cultural shift toward prevention, echoing the precautionary principle in environmental science. Second, the research underscored a move from simple consultation toward genuine “co‑ownership” with Indigenous communities, a model that could be replicated in other sectors to ensure that affected peoples have decision‑making power.
Third, the pandemic‑driven rollout of contact‑tracing apps illustrated both the necessity of rapid ethical assessment and the dangers of deploying technology without sufficient public scrutiny. Fourth, the study highlighted “technology for good” as a meta‑solution: privacy‑enhancing technologies, open‑source repair tools (such as the “Tractor Hacking” project), and other civic‑tech interventions can rebalance power dynamics and provide tangible benefits. Lastly, the authors pointed out that while many stakeholders recognize the importance of these principles, actual implementation remains uneven, suggesting a gap between aspiration and practice that warrants further investigation.
Policymakers can adopt the six principles as a checklist for drafting or revising regulations. By mandating early public engagement, requiring certified impact assessments for publicly funded projects, and linking ESG criteria to procurement, governments can create a reliable “floor” that raises overall standards while still allowing market innovation.
Corporate leaders and product teams should embed the principles directly into product roadmaps. This means adding anticipation milestones (scenario‑planning workshops), forming cross‑functional ethics steering committees that include external community representatives, and publishing transparent post‑deployment monitoring reports. Funding should be earmarked for inclusive hiring practices and for training staff on bias detection and privacy‑by‑design.
Investors and ESG funds can incorporate a “social impact of technology” score into their rating models, rewarding companies that demonstrate concrete public‑engagement processes, certified impact assessments, and measurable diversity outcomes. Conditional financing tied to the completion of these checks can drive industry‑wide adoption.
Academics and researchers are encouraged to build on the qualitative insights by developing quantitative metrics for each principle and conducting longitudinal studies that track whether early‑stage anticipatory actions actually reduce negative outcomes. Comparative case studies across sectors (AI, health, climate tech) can refine sector‑specific toolkits.
Civil‑society organizations and advocates can use the report’s best‑practice checklist to hold both governments and corporations accountable, organize community‑led scenario‑planning workshops, and publish comparative dashboards that visualize corporate adherence to the six principles.
Educators and trainers should weave the principles and lifecycle tools into curricula for engineering, public policy, and business programs, using case studies such as Sidewalk Labs and COVID‑19 contact‑tracing apps to illustrate real‑world stakes. Certification courses on responsible innovation can equip professionals with the practical skills needed to operationalixze the framework.
The report evaluates the Newcomer Introduction to Classes Online (NICO) initiative run by the Calgary Immigrant Educational Society (CIES). Its purpose is to identify barriers and needs that prevent newly arrived immigrants, especially those at Canadian Language Benchmark (CLB) 3 or lower, from succeeding in online English‑language learning.
Seventy organizations were approached to participate in or distribute the study. Out of the organizations
that wanted to participate, 84% answered yes to, “Does your organization offer e-learning programs?” and
were able to participate. Less than half of the organizations offered e-learning programs to
CLB 1,2, and 3 students.
This report paints a detailed picture of the structural, technological, and pedagogical hurdles faced by low‑CLB newcomers in online English learning. Its mixed‑methods evidence base supports concrete actions, such as enhanced digital‑literacy orientation, dedicated IT support, and mobile‑friendly LMS design, to improve access, retention, and language outcomes for this vulnerable learner cohort.
Why it matters
Online delivery promises scalability and flexibility, yet evidence suggests low‑CLB learners are systematically excluded from e‑learning because of digital‑literacy gaps, limited hardware, and long wait‑lists. Understanding these gaps can inform more equitable service design.
There is an interesting disconnect in survey findings between Newcomers and staff in terms of where clients/students get their information: "The survey demonstrated that only 17% of students said they found out about online/blended classes through staff. Whereas staff responded that 88% of students found out about online/blended classes through
staff. Also, 23% of students claimed that they found out through friends, and staff said 68% of students found out through friends. Similarly, only 10% of students claimed they found the information through family, whereas staff said 56% of student accessed the information through family. The responses were more comparable for the other categories. 43% of students said immigration counselor/officer told them about e-learning programs and staff estimated 52% of students learnt about programs through immigration counselor/officer. 35% of students found program information online and staff believed 40% of students found programs online."
Ignoring for a moment that what an "immigration counselor/officer" is, is not defined in the report (does that mean IRCC officer, Settlement counsellor? Your guess is as good as mine.) this disconnect is not new, and assumptions about how Newcomers find information and access services remains problematic and unaddressed.
There is much insight in this report, such as:
Program Administrators / Service Providers
Policymakers / Funding Bodies (IRCC, Provincial Ministries)
Front‑line Instructors / Tutors
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