Across developed societies, the issue of immigration has pushed its way toward the top of the political agenda. A large section of the public is concerned about how many newcomers are arriving (and also about who is arriving), and we can see the effects of this in the rise of Donald Trump, in the recent referendum vote in the UK to leave the European Union, and in the rise of anti-immigrant parties in a number of European societies — even social-democratic Sweden. Being tough on immigrants seems to be a good way for otherwise repellent candidates and parties to win mass support.

Article by David Miller

In this climate, it is widely believed that anyone who aspires to stand on the progressive side of politics ought to be pro-immigration. Opposition to immigration is fueled by racial prejudice and xenophobia, the thinking goes, and so anyone who wants to distance themselves from these despicable attitudes ought correspondingly to favor higher levels of immigration. And there is a parallel economic argument: Newly arriving immigrants are typically much worse off than existing compatriots, and they stand to increase their incomes considerably relative to what they earned in their home countries. How can it not be a progressive policy to allow them to enter, thereby dealing a blow to global poverty?

Immigration splits liberal elites from blue-collar workers

This idea that being progressive means being pro-immigration has unfortunate political consequences, because it tends to create a split between liberal intellectuals and political leaders (who share these assumptions) and their natural power base among blue- and white-collar workers (who do not).

Liberal elites typically find them themselves in an uneasy place when asked to think and speak about immigration. Their moral intuitions point them in one direction, their political instincts in another. As a result, they defend border controls when speaking in public settings, but rarely sound convincing while doing so.

But it’s a mistake to think that being liberal necessarily means being immigration-friendly. A democratic society’s immigration policy ought to be one that is driven by a concern for social justice, and decisions about how many and which immigrants to take in should be guided by that concern. Where the effect of immigration is to increase the unemployment rate, or to put pressure on education, health services and housing, it needs to be controlled.

The migrants themselves would no doubt be made better off by being allowed to enter, but the political community isn’t obliged to weigh their interests equally with those of existing citizens. A degree of compatriot favoritism is justifiable. Social justice itself depends on an implicit social contract whereby citizens support the state and most of the time comply with what it requires them to do (pay taxes and so forth) while in return it protects their interests in areas such education, employment, health care, and security in retirement. An open-door policy would run the danger of dissolving that contract, and with it the state’s claim to legitimacy.

Policymakers must weigh the effects on the “sending” countries

Of course in many cases, allowing immigrants to enter is of benefit to the receiving society, as they bring in professional or entrepreneurial skills, or take on low-paid jobs that native workers are reluctant to fill. But even here some caution is necessary. What impact will this movement of people have on the sending societies?

The special case of refugees

So far I have been discussing immigration in general and its effects on both the sending and the receiving societies. But we need to pay special attention to the case of refugees, for they, it seems, have claims on us that are even stronger than our compatriots’ claims for social justice.

By a refugee, I mean someone who is forced to leave her country of residence because there is no feasible way for her human rights to be protected so long as she remains inside it. This is somewhat wider than the formal definition given in the Geneva Convention (which refers to those who have a well-founded fear of being persecuted on grounds such as their race or religion), and intended to cover those fleeing conditions such as state breakdown or civil war for which no solution is in the offing. There is no question that we have obligations to such people. But does that mean that we must grant asylum to all those who claim it from us, and can provide evidence to back up their claim?