The debate over asylum seekers illegally crossing the channel is bringing out the worst xenophobia in our politicians, media and the public. And it’s also generating some creative arguments. In the Telegraph, Emma Webb, director of the Forum on Integration, Democracy and Extremism at think tank Civitas contends that cracking down on those fleeing isn’t monstrous; it’s our moral duty. She states that in the current system, once sea-battered migrants arrive, it’s very hard for our government to send them straight back. Because the Home Office’s hands are tied, the taxpayer has to subsidise private firms to shelter migrants at the cost of £3.5 billion. Worse, because criminals know we’re far too soft on migrants, our border policy has allowed human traffickers to make £22 million this year alone, which they have then invested in sex trafficking and human slavery. Therefore, we should adopt a stricter policy, lowering crime and costs.
It looks like it makes sense, but it is a misdirection. This approach is sold as a moral argument but instead offers up a fiscal one. And it doesn’t hold water. Webb’s argument is another instance of a common pattern seen in discussion of social justice issues: to treat a problem as a fiscal one—but a one-sided fiscal one.
While we’re looking at additional costs, it’s worth mentioning that Britain’s hostility to migrants has cost us multiple millions in lawsuits. We are also missing on £100 million yearly in tax revenue by not allowing asylum seekers to work. And what about Serco, Mears Group and Clearspring, the private firms contracted to house asylum seekers? Well, no-one would outright say we shouldn’t house migrants: after all that would clearly be immoral. The sin of these firms is that they are profiting from a system that also funds criminals. But once again something has been missed here. We have also lost millions in lawsuits as a result of the mistreatment in these privately run facilities.
But that money is spent badly is not the charge here; it’s that the money spent funds crimes, and therefore, we shouldn’t spend the money at all. But then we could also conclude that we must spend more money reforming the system or abolish asylum regulation altogether, allowing migrants in at zero cost with no chance of criminal exploitation. Yes, the current system costs money, and it is imperfect, but that doesn't mean its aim is bad. The best shouldn’t be the enemy of the good.
As Prospect reported last year, increasing the number of rescue missions does not in fact automatically encourage more migrations. In fact, migrations across the sea have been at their highest when these rescue missions are at their lowest; removing rescue missions will only increase the number of deaths. Making Britain more hostile to asylum seekers would only increase the risk of death they face. Traffickers would still collect fees. Harsher laws would not be a deterrent. After all, what greater deterrent could we create than risking your life in a flimsy vessel trying to cross the sea? These people choose to go on these perilous journeys despite this risk, strongly suggesting what they are running more powerful than what they are running too.
Webb’s moral case and those like it offer an easy way out. They use fiscal language to describe moral questions, and thus, make moral duty a matter of frugality and efficiency. In short, balancing the books is better than the effort of doing the right thing. These strategies believe attacking the effect is the same as dealing with the cause. But it's not putting the fire out, it's having a glass of water to cool down. It allows you to say something is immoral without ever committing to a lasting solution, because looking at underlying causes would mean real moral inquiry, accepting you might be wrong, and, god forbid, putting your money where your mouth is.
But we can agree with the pseudo-moral defence on one point. There should be less illegal migration to the UK. But, if we’re tied to the fiscal argument, then we should spend our money on preventing the causes forcing people to take their lives into their own hands in the first place, rather than assume closing our doors will automatically stop people from seeking sanctuary. Our moral obligations don’t have to end with us opening up Britain’s borders, but they will always demand we know the cost of human life.
It looks like it makes sense, but it is a misdirection. This approach is sold as a moral argument but instead offers up a fiscal one. And it doesn’t hold water. Webb’s argument is another instance of a common pattern seen in discussion of social justice issues: to treat a problem as a fiscal one—but a one-sided fiscal one.
While we’re looking at additional costs, it’s worth mentioning that Britain’s hostility to migrants has cost us multiple millions in lawsuits. We are also missing on £100 million yearly in tax revenue by not allowing asylum seekers to work. And what about Serco, Mears Group and Clearspring, the private firms contracted to house asylum seekers? Well, no-one would outright say we shouldn’t house migrants: after all that would clearly be immoral. The sin of these firms is that they are profiting from a system that also funds criminals. But once again something has been missed here. We have also lost millions in lawsuits as a result of the mistreatment in these privately run facilities.
But that money is spent badly is not the charge here; it’s that the money spent funds crimes, and therefore, we shouldn’t spend the money at all. But then we could also conclude that we must spend more money reforming the system or abolish asylum regulation altogether, allowing migrants in at zero cost with no chance of criminal exploitation. Yes, the current system costs money, and it is imperfect, but that doesn't mean its aim is bad. The best shouldn’t be the enemy of the good.
As Prospect reported last year, increasing the number of rescue missions does not in fact automatically encourage more migrations. In fact, migrations across the sea have been at their highest when these rescue missions are at their lowest; removing rescue missions will only increase the number of deaths. Making Britain more hostile to asylum seekers would only increase the risk of death they face. Traffickers would still collect fees. Harsher laws would not be a deterrent. After all, what greater deterrent could we create than risking your life in a flimsy vessel trying to cross the sea? These people choose to go on these perilous journeys despite this risk, strongly suggesting what they are running more powerful than what they are running too.
Webb’s moral case and those like it offer an easy way out. They use fiscal language to describe moral questions, and thus, make moral duty a matter of frugality and efficiency. In short, balancing the books is better than the effort of doing the right thing. These strategies believe attacking the effect is the same as dealing with the cause. But it's not putting the fire out, it's having a glass of water to cool down. It allows you to say something is immoral without ever committing to a lasting solution, because looking at underlying causes would mean real moral inquiry, accepting you might be wrong, and, god forbid, putting your money where your mouth is.
But we can agree with the pseudo-moral defence on one point. There should be less illegal migration to the UK. But, if we’re tied to the fiscal argument, then we should spend our money on preventing the causes forcing people to take their lives into their own hands in the first place, rather than assume closing our doors will automatically stop people from seeking sanctuary. Our moral obligations don’t have to end with us opening up Britain’s borders, but they will always demand we know the cost of human life.
