The United Kingdom’s need for immigrants is becoming increasingly evident. According to recent reports from the Office for National Statistics, the country’s native population is expected to remain sluggish and grow older throughout the 2030s. The anticipated increase in population will largely hinge on immigrants, with a projection of an additional five million arriving in the next seven years. It’s a perspective that underscores their importance.
As discussions around this topic resurface in public debates, one cannot ignore how readily xenophobia is leveraged for political gains. However, the attitude of Britons toward immigration has significantly shifted over the past fifty years. Back in the 1950s and 1960s, a staggering 80% to 90% of the population wanted to halt immigration altogether, even when annual inflows were below 250,000. This was a period when Enoch Powell’s inflammatory predictions about “rivers of blood” seemed plausible, and net migration was even negative.
Fast forward to 2023, immigration figures had climbed to over 1.2 million, but the opposition had dropped to around 40%-50%. The numbers did escalate in the lead-up to Brexit, focusing heavily on immigration as a pivotal factor in the decision to leave the EU. Although the sentiment eased when EU workers started leaving, opposition spiked again last year with heightened media coverage of non-EU arrivals via small boats. Despite this, less than half of those surveyed felt it necessary to reduce immigration numbers.
Numbers can be interpreted in countless ways. Yet, it’s noteworthy that the areas where most immigrants choose to settle—namely London and its surroundings—happen to be the UK’s most productive regions and also where resistance to immigration is at its lowest. In London, for instance, over a third of the populace is foreign-born. While there’s some public discontent regarding the strain immigrants allegedly place on the NHS and welfare systems, there’s a strong and often overwhelming appreciation for their contributions as professionals, especially in healthcare, and in sectors like hospitality and agriculture.
On a personal note, it’s clear to me that many of the everyday services I rely on—from construction work to dining out—are predominantly provided by immigrants. This diversity mirrors that of most major global cities. Observably, countries with high immigration rates, such as the United States, UK, Germany, and France, also boast some of the highest prosperity and freedom levels in the world.
This might all seem academic, but in reality, it is nearly impossible for an open society to keep resourceful and determined individuals from crossing its borders. The Boris Johnson administration’s attempts to curtail short-term EU labor with a stringent Brexit saw an upsurge in long-term non-EU workers instead, arriving in even greater numbers. Measures to limit foreign students and their dependents have merely shifted the focus toward areas with specific skill needs, which doesn’t appear to help alleviate shortages in public sectors.
Simply put, while immigration controls in the UK might benefit from refinement, putting an end to immigration altogether is neither feasible nor wise. As global mobility becomes as irreversible as climate change, one can mitigate its effects but not undo them. Considering that two consecutive Conservative party leaders in the UK have immigrant roots, it’s clear that the nation can indeed adapt.
The real challenge lies in managing the divisive nature of immigration within domestic politics. It’s a topic that extremist groups across receiving countries in the West—whether in Scandinavia, Germany, or the US—exploit eagerly. In the US, immigration often becomes a surrogate issue for racial tensions, just as identity politics, an immigration byproduct, fuels left-wing agendas.
Research by Oxford’s Migration Observatory sheds light on the British public’s readiness to welcome newcomers into both the economy and communities, with one caveat: this welcome is contingent. The media’s fixation on “immigrant crime”—despite statistics showing no greater prevalence than domestic crime—reveals an expectation for “guests” to adhere to higher standards. Outbreaks of criminal activity, such as those associated with Albanian drug syndicates, tend to correlate with migration waves rather than reflecting innate national characteristics.
Many countries have embraced protocols promoting conditional inclusion and good citizenship, and it’s essential to diffuse cultural clashes, particularly on issues like gender, between Britons and certain immigrant communities. Such measures should replace outdated and counterproductive citizenship tests that quiz individuals on obscure topics like “when is Saint David’s Day?” or “Which houses fought in the Wars of the Roses?”.
Deportation of immigrants involved in criminal activities and the requirement for settling newcomers to familiarize themselves with local festivals, customs, and codes of conduct would likely face little opposition. Community discipline is crucial and should form part of a migration Charter, perhaps extending even to second-home owners in rural areas. This would turn migration into a cultural exchange, paving the way for integration.
Merely condemning British immigration as wrongheaded is no longer constructive—it’s a thinly veiled tactic of emotional politics. While we can never halt the desire of outsiders to migrate to Britain, we can certainly manage it to benefit from it. Addressing the issue with regulation and strategic management offers a path forward.
