Migration musings

The title of this book may sound bizarre, at first, but first principles are all too often forgotten in policy-making.

The question it poses is such a fundamental one, it draws a dividing line between two totally incompatible ways of thinking about migration: that it is for the benefit of the self or the other. 

For all the jokes poked at “open borders enthusiasts”, as Sumption points out, those who believe migration policy should be structured for the benefit of the other — that is, for migrants themselves, or for the benefits of other nations — are few and far between in Britain. Those who argue we have “a moral duty” to migrants tend to fold Britain into a larger sense of civilisational responsibility: the West’s role in world politics and history,  and as stable first world nations, beget responsibilities, they argue, to the global good. Those responsibilities include providing refugees in search of safety a harbour — a land “unaffected by pestilence or the hands of war”. 

Rather, our migration conversation takes place along a spectrum of benefit to the self. Those arguing for low immigration prioritise the benefit to the host nation via the familiar arguments of increased wages, increased productivity, reduced crime etc. But even most prominent pro-migration voices make their positive case around the self,  pointing out the potential economic gain, the rich diversity of intangible cultural benefits, and the potential relative loss to other nations.

One of the issues with our immigration debate is that pro-migration arguments have strayed far and wide from first principles as their arguments have been unwound. When mass migration first started, the argument was that it would prove to be economic rocket fuel. When this proved not to be the case, the argument transferred to their benefits to the welfare system, to intangible social improvements, and to the benefits to the migrants themselves. Now, we are seeing the argument shift again, to claims that our societies will collapse without it, and that migration is such a settled fact of national life there is simply nothing to be done. “Immigration”, as wrote Christopher Caldwell, “is a fait accompli for which people are scrambling to find a rationale.”

That rationale is the subject of this book by Madeleine Sumption. Sumption is Director of the Migration Observatory, which provides analysis on immigration and migration issues, and was recently appointed interim chair of the Migration Advisory Committee, the quango that offers independent advice to the government on immigration policy, succeeding Brian Bell. She has the dubious honour of having advised Boris Johnson’s government against the migration policies that brought about the BorisWave — which accentuated the very worst elements of British migration policy of the preceding 25 years — and having been ignored.

It would not be beyond the realms of conjecture to suppose that this latter experience fed into the writing of this book, which answers such questions as whether political rhetoric on immigration matches realities on the ground, why so many well-intentioned reforms fail in practice, and whether immigration policy could ever be managed more effectively.

Coming in at a mere 150 pages, it only takes a day’s reading: it would be most welcome if commentators took a day out to do so, and reconsidered the first principles of their approach to immigration. Alas, reading is the pursuit of more circumspect and less reactionary political systems.

The reaction to recent immigration numbers is an excellent example of why this approach would be so welcome. Net migration numbers have come down. The headline figure is good for the government: but whether it is actually beneficial for the self depends entirely on the detail, and what migration policy is for. Has it risen because of increased emigration from the pre-existing population? Or of recently arrived migrants? What is the fiscal profile of those leaving? What is the fiscal profile of those arriving likely to be? These questions matter — in economic terms — as much as the headline figure.

The economic case is only half the argument. We may have thought ourselves importing interchangeable economic units of equal value, but we were actually importing people: in cultural terms, of course, the compatibility of incoming migrants — as well as the existing stock of migrants — goes a long way to explain another key question of Sumption’s book: why are so many people unhappy with the outcome of migration policy.

The key, of course, is that politicians have been more than willing to overpromise and underdeliver. After New Labour opened the gates, 14 years of rising numbers under the Conservatives (and Lib Dems) and a kayfabe under Starmer, we can confidently call this a cross-party problem.

It should be pointed out that Sumption makes few such claims. This book, if it could be described in a word, is “scrupulous”. There are a few extreme positions — such as the aforementioned open borders — that are too implausible to merit serious consideration in policy analysis. As they are in this book, so should they be in the political arena. The questions above, in fact, arise mostly out of a political situation which is as yet still to answer the fundamental question of Sumption’s book.

It may be of some surprise to read a writer who has been so critical of migration to welcome such an even-handed book. But any pro-low-migration voice should welcome movement to true, honest and open discourse around migration: for years, the debate has been shut down with accusations of racism and patchy statistics. If you are, as I am, confident that “grammar school” approach to migration would yield the best result for Britain — and that this is backed up, as all good policy decisions must be, by incontestable facts — why would you welcome anything but an unbiased conversation? To quote Milton: “let her and Falsehood grapple; who ever knew Truth put to the worse, in a free and open encounter?”

We already have inklings of a better debate. Immigration statistics are, thanks to the determined efforts of some — almost overwhelmingly on the low-migration side — being uncovered, piece by piece. Put together, the patches of data make a horrible mosaic.

Meanwhile, we are now seeing political parties grab at the horns of the fundamental contentious debate: Reform is developing a language of “national priority”, whilst the Greens are advocating for a more permissive, open and internationalist approach to migration. We might side with one, or another: what matters, at the very least, is that the argument is becoming more honest about the trade-offs involved, and more willing to state plainly what migration policy is actually for.