Controversial immigration rules are dividing opinion — and families

Thousands of families stand to be torn apart as a power struggle rages on between the UK government and courts.

In the latest conflict between the coalition and the judges, over 15,000 families face being separated by government policy.

The Home Office is appealing this summer’s High Court judgment, which found new immigration rules on partners and children joining their families in the UK breach basic human rights.

Last month (5 July), three families won a judicial review of new immigration rules which required British citizens and refugees to earn at least £18,600 if they want to bring a non-European partner into the UK, rising to £22,400 if a partner and child are coming, plus £2,400 for each additional child.

Justice Blake ruled that the new earnings threshold was not unlawful] in itself, but it was a ‘disproportionate’ interference with the right to a family life at the level it was set, especially as it was combined with other onerous rules. For example, the requirement that applicants must have at least £16,000 in the bank if they want to use savings to supplement an income less than the £18,600 threshold.

Justice Blake suggested a lower threshold of £13,500, which would be less likely to penalise young couples, and he also proposed taking into account the earnings of the incoming partner, who may well be the main breadwinner.

The ruling culminated months of campaigning by separated families, human rights lawyers and MPs and came hot on the tails of a June report by the All-Party Parliamentary Group on Migration, which called for an independent review of the rules in light of “emerging evidence about what must be the unintended consequences” - including, it said, the cost to the public purse.

Yet the government remains adamant that the new rules are fair and economically sound and has launched an appeal against the High Court ruling. Earlier this month, House of Lords whip Lord Taylor of Holbeach sent a letter to peers defending the measures.

Lord Taylor insisted that a Middlesex University study which found that preventing 17,800 partners coming to work in the UK would cost £850million in lost economic activity over 10 years, did not include costs such as welfare, health and education.  Lord Taylor argued that the net benefit of the income threshold barrier to family immigration will be £660m to the taxpayer over the next decade.

“The aims of the income threshold are to ensure that family migrants are supported at a reasonable level so that they do not become a burden on the taxpayer and they can participate sufficiently in everyday life to facilitate their integration in British society,” maintained Lord Taylor. 

What is clear is that thousands of husbands, wives, fathers and mothers will suffer separation from their families under such rules.

The £18,600 figure came from advice by the UK Border Agency’s Migration Advisory Committee. Their November 2011 report suggested that 45 per cent of the 37,600 visas issued to migrants joining their spouse or partner that year would fail to meet an £18,600 income threshold. But the Committee warned that its advice was based on economic considerations alone, with no reference to wider legal, social or moral issues. Furthermore, it noted that its calculations relied on various assumptions and generalisations.

So just how arbitrary is the £18,600 income barrier to bring a loved one who may be earning more than you to the UK? It’s certainly far above the £12,875 minimum wage earnings for a 40 hour week.

But as usual, we have a government that says it is determined not to let the courts dictate public policy — even though the High Court’s judicial review in July was not overturning Home Office rules, just suggesting a few sensible amendments to make these family rules more workable and help comply with human rights.

The government’s intransigence suggests it fears discrimination or human rights claims if it loses the appeal.

Meanwhile the cost of these wranglings add up, as does the human cost of couples divided and children growing up not knowing their fathers.

Once again human rights, in this case the right to a family life, is the battle ground for an ugly squabble between government and the courts.

The Home Office is appealing this summer’s High Court judgment on the new immigration rules. Photo: Getty

Vanessa Ganguin is a partner at Laura Devine Solicitors. She is an immigration specialist and heads the firm’s human rights and appeals team.

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How “cli-fi” novels humanise the science of climate change

The paradox is that the harder climate-fiction novels try, the less effective they are.

When the Paris UN Climate Change Conference begins at the end of November, the world’s leaders will review the climate framework agreed in Rio in 1992. For well over 20 years, the world has not just been thinking and talking about climate change, it has also been writing and reading about it, in blogs, newspapers, magazines – and in novels.

Climate change fiction is now a recognisable literary phenomenon replete with its own nickname: “cli-fi”. The term was coined in 2007 by Taiwan-based blogger Dan Bloom. Since then, its use has spread: it was even tweeted by Margaret Atwood in 2013:

It is not a genre in the accepted scholarly sense, since it lacks the plot formulas or stylistic conventions that tend to define genres (such as science fiction or the western). However, it does name a remarkable recent literary and publishing trend.

A 21st-century phenomenon?

Putting a number to this phenomenon depends, partly, on how one defines cli-fi. How much of a novel has to be devoted to climate change before it is considered cli-fi? Should we restrict the term to novels about man-made global warming? (If we don’t, we should remember that narratives about global climatic change are as old as The Epic of Gilgamesh and the Biblical story of the flood.) If we define cli-fi as fictional treatments of climate change caused by human activity in terms of setting, theme or plot – and accept there will be grey areas in the extent of this treatment – a conservative estimate would put the all-time number of cli-fi novels at 150 and growing. This is the figure put forward by Adam Trexler, who has worked with me to survey the development of cli-fi.

This definition also gives us a start date for cli-fi’s history. While planetary climatic change occurs in much 20th-century science fiction, it is only after growing scientific awareness of specifically man-made, carbon-induced climate change in the 1960s and 1970s that novels on this subject emerged. The first is Arthur Herzog’s Heat in 1976, followed by George Turner’s The Sun and the Summer (published in the US as Drowning Towers) in 1987.

At the turn of this century, Maggie Gee and TC Boyle were among the first mainstream authors to publish climate change novels. In this century, we can count Atwood, Michael Crichton, Barbara Kingsolver, Ian McEwan, Kim Stanley Robinson, Ilija Trojanow and Jeanette Winterson as major authors who have written about climate change. The past five years have given us notable examples of cli-fi by emerging authors, such as Steven Amsterdam, Edan Lepucki, Jane Rawson, Nathaniel Rich and Antti Tuomainen.

Creative challenges

Cli-fi is all the more noteworthy considering the creative challenge posed by climate change. First, there is the problem of scale – spatial and temporal. Climate change affects the entire planet and all its species – and concerns the end of this planet as we know it. Novels, by contrast, conventionally concern the actions of individual protagonists and/or, sometimes, small communities.

Added to this is the networked nature of climate change: in physical terms, the climate is a large, complex system whose effects are difficult to model. In socio-cultural terms, solutions require intergovernmental agreement – just what COP21 intends – and various top-down and bottom-up transformations. Finally, there exists the difficulty of translating scientific information, with all its predictive uncertainty, into something both accurate and interesting to the average reader.

Still, cli-fi writers have adopted a range of strategies to engage their readers. Many cli-fi novels could be classified as dystopian, post-apocalyptic or, indeed, both – depicting nightmarish societies triggered by sometimes catastrophic climate events. A future world is one effective way of narrating the planetary condition of climate change.

Some novelists are also careful to underpin their scenarios with rigorous climatic predictions and, in this way, translate science fact into a fictional setting. Kingsolver, who trained as an ecologist, is the best example of this – and Atwood and Robinson are also known for their attempts at making their speculations scientifically plausible. Also, cli-fi novels, particularly those set in the present day or very near future rather than in a dystopian future, tend to show the political or psychological dimensions of living with climate change. Readers can identify with protagonists. To some extent, the global community is represented in fictional everymen or everywomen. Or, often, it is through such characters that science is humanised and its role in combating climate change better understood.

Can cli-fi lead to change?

Could cli-fi affect how we think and act on climate change? The paradox is that the harder cli-fi tries, the less effective it is. Many writers want to inspire change, not insist on it: the line between literature and propaganda is one that most novelists respect. Literature invites us to inhabit other worlds and live other lives. Cli-fi at its best lets us travel to climate-changed worlds, to strive there alongside others and then to return armed with that experience.

In Paris, the UN will seek a global agreement on climate action for the first time in more than 20 years. There is plenty of climate change fiction out there to help provide the mental and psychological space to consider that action.

The Conversation

Adeline Johns-Putra, Reader in English Literature, University of Surrey

This article was originally published on The Conversation. Read the original article.