Nicolás Sánchez Cominero explores why immigration has such a bad reputation sociologically despite its potential economic benefits.
If you could be reborn tomorrow in some random place on the planet, chances are you would want one of two things: to be born in a prosperous country, or to have the possibility of moving to one. No one would choose to live trapped within one territory for their entire life, with no option to leave, simply because they happened to be born there. In this regard, freedom of movement is a non-negotiable moral principle. If we own our bodies, we own our movement. As long as we do not invade anyone’s property or commit violent acts, no one should have the power to prevent us from moving, working, or living wherever we choose.
However, all modern states turn this freedom into an administrative concession. They call it “legal” (or administratively correct) immigration when they have granted permission, and “illegal” when they have not. The difference is not whether the act of movement is moral or immoral, but whether one has gone through a series of bureaucratic requirements that have little or nothing to do with a person’s ability to live peacefully. A worker who crosses a border to take a job can be treated as a criminal simply because they have not gone through a process designed to be exclusionary, costly, and arbitrary. This distinction, presented as common sense, is ineffective. Those who intend to enter for criminal purposes—mafias, criminal networks, or violent individuals—always find a way: corruption, forged documents, or clandestine routes. Meanwhile, millions of peaceful and productive people are blocked because they do not meet criteria that have nothing to do with their ability to contribute value. The stricter the system, the worse the selection: the filter favors the best-connected, the most desperate, or those willing to break the law, not necessarily those who could contribute the most.
The free movement of people is not only a moral imperative but also one of the most powerful economic policies that exist. Michael Clemens estimates that opening borders could increase world GDP by up to 100%, doubling global wealth without inventing any new technology—simply by allowing people to work where they can create the most value. Bryan Caplan agrees—in his book Open Borders: The Science and Ethics of Immigration, he explains that the benefits of removing migration barriers would far exceed those of any known economic reform. A worker moving from a low-productivity country to a high-productivity one takes nothing away from anyone: they produce more, consume more, and participate in more voluntary exchanges, generating a net value that is distributed in goods, services, taxes, and innovation.
However, the political and social reality is different. Much of the rejection of immigration does not come from cultural prejudice, but from the everyday experience of seeing people who, once inside, live at the expense of others. The problem is not that they cross the border, but that the institutional framework allows them to settle and access resources funded by others without having contributed beforehand. In developed countries, many resources — healthcare, education, housing, subsidies—are funded compulsorily by taxpayers and available to anyone in the territory thanks to the welfare state. This creates an obvious incentive: for those who have no intention or ability to work immediately, moving to a country with a generous welfare system is a radical improvement. The incentive is so clear that some migrate not for productive opportunities, but for the possibility of receiving benefits without giving anything in return. Not all immigrants act this way; many come intending to work and they do. But the design of the welfare state allows this option to exist and, in certain cases, makes it more profitable than joining the labor market. This distortion not only affects newcomers; it also fuels similar behaviour among parts of the local population, who become accustomed to living off subsidies.
The consequences are well known. Among those who arrive intending to work, immediate access to benefits can reduce the pressure to learn the language, adapt culturally, or look for a job. In Sweden, for example, recent refugees have employment rates close to 50% even after five years. In Germany, after the 2015–2016 migration wave, a considerable percentage was still dependent on public transfers three or four years later. In countries like Spain, communities have formed with high long-term unemployment and dependence on benefits, perpetuating cycles of isolation and welfare dependency.
Historically, this pattern is not new. In the late Roman Republic, the free distribution of grain caused massive migration to the capital, where an increasing share of the population came to depend on the state. The result was a rise in the tax burden, political clientelism, and economic deterioration. It was not mobility that caused the decline, but the rules that rewarded dependency. Paradoxically, a very restrictive system combined with high social benefits creates adverse selection, where honest workers are left out due to bureaucratic hurdles, while those willing to break the law find ways in. Mafias benefit, states lose, and public opinion associates immigration with abuse.
Other countries show that it is possible to have high immigration without these problems. In the United States, in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, borders were relatively open (especially to European migrants), and there was no significant public social safety net. As a result, millions of immigrants came looking for work knowing they had to integrate quickly into the economy or depend on their own family and community networks. This massive influx contributed to the rapid economic growth of the U.S. without creating a direct fiscal cost, since there were no state subsidies to attract or to finance. The problem is not mobility, but the design of institutions. The only coherent way to solve the problem is to remove the incentive that creates it. If public services exist, access should depend on prior contribution, applying the same criterion to nationals and foreigners alike. Such a reform would deactivate the pull factor for those seeking subsidies, reduce clientelism and resentment, and naturally filter for those who truly want to work. Bryan Caplan calls these “keyhole solutions”: keeping mobility, but closing the door to non-contributory dependency. This is not discrimination but coherence: equal treatment and equal requirements.
In the long run, any prosperous society must understand that immigration is not a problem in itself. On the contrary, it is one of the greatest sources of growth and innovation. What is a problem is a system that allows people to live indefinitely off the work of others. The solution is not less freedom of movement, but more individual responsibility and institutions that reward production. Freedom of movement is inseparable from human dignity. Denying it to protect a flawed system is putting the cart before the horse. If we want open and fair societies, we must start by correcting the internal distortions that turn immigration into a conflict. Only then will we be able to see human mobility for what it truly is: an opportunity, not a threat.
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