The government has lost the economic argument around immigration

It now straddles two contradictory claims.

Gus O'Donnell, the former head of the civil service, has written in an article in the Times that the government is "shooting itself in the foot" with its desire to lower immigration.

He writes (£):

A big barrier to growth is an immigration policy that deprives the UK of skilled workers in certain disciplines. Lord Heseltine, while at pains to avoid criticising the Government, clearly sympathises with the difficulties that businesses face in recruiting these workers.

O'Donnell's criticism piles on the pressure the government is facing to justify its immigration policy in economic, as well as just populist, terms. As he mentioned, Heseltine's review, No stone unturned (pdf), also tactfully steers a course rather different to that currently being pursued by the Home Office.

Heseltine writes:

It goes almost without saying that the ideal solution is a well-managed immigration system that is open and welcoming to those who can address our skills gaps and add value to the economy, yet is unattractive to those who do not have and would not get permission to be here. This is easier said than done at a time of tough manpower constraints in the public sector.

While it "almost goes without saying", that is not actually the government's own strategy. The Conservatives are locked into a damaging attempt to bring net migration in under an arbitrary cap; and worse, they have no power to affect the biggest single contributor to that number, which is intra-EU migration.

As a result, the party is forced to attack the small sliver of migration they can have an effect on. But unskilled, non-EU migration had already been extremely constrained by the previous government, so to limit immigration any further, skilled migration came under fire. Even with new strict measures on visas, the government is losing the fight miserably. Its target is net migration of 100,000 people; the latest figures show that number is 216,000.

Politically the government is failing. It has set itself a challenge which it will not – cannot – meet. That alone would be a reason for abandoning the aim now, nobly accepting defeat, even if that figure weren't one which no sane government ought to try to achieve.

Last week's Economist leader laid out the problem the economy faces as a result of this policy in stark terms:

The country has, in effect, installed a “keep out” sign over the white cliffs of Dover. Even as Mr Cameron defends the City of London as a global financial centre, and takes planeloads of business folk on foreign trips, his government ratchets up measures that would turn an entrepôt into a fortress. In the past two years the Tories have made it much harder for students and foreign workers and family members to enter and settle in the country. Britain is not only losing the war for global talent, it is scarcely competing. More people now leave to take up job offers in other countries than come the other way.

In fact, even the nascent pro-immigration voices on the right don't take the argument far enough. While many of them are content to make the argument that immigration represents a favourable trade-off between unemployment and growth, few take the extra step of point out that immigration can help with both employment and growth. This argument involves tackling head-on the pervasive "lump of labour" fallacy – the idea that there are a fixed number of jobs, and if a foreigner gets one, then a Briton can't.

Forbes blogger Adam Ozimek writes about Silicon Valley, where a similar argument is taking place after a technology journalist, Robert X Cringley, has criticised skilled-migration visas:

Imagine the worst case scenario in Cringely’s mind occurs, and a foreign worker takes a job at a 30% discount, and a native worker who could have had the job has to settle for a lower paying job. To understand the impact on U.S. workers you have to look beyond this worker who has had his job “stolen”, and must look at what economists call the general equilibrium effect. Here are other things that happen: the H1-B worker buys or rents a home, and a landlord of home seller benefits, overall, new houses will be built, meaning construction workers benefit. The H1-B worker shops at a grocery store, which employs workers, and sells goods made by farmers who also employ workers. See how this goes?

The economic case for limiting migration is thoroughly lost. At best, the government is now facing the risk that this argument filters into the popular perception; at worst, it is in the position of encouraging a popular attitude which is simply incorrect.

Placards at a protest against the decision to strip London Met university of its ability to sponsor international study. Photograph: Getty Images

Alex Hern is a technology reporter for the Guardian. He was formerly staff writer at the New Statesman. You should follow Alex on Twitter.

Getty
Show Hide image

The struggles of Huma Abedin

On the behind-the-scenes story of Hillary Clinton’s closest aide.

In a dreary campaign, it was a moment that shone: Hillary Clinton, on the road to the caucus in Iowa, stopping at a Mexican fast-food restaurant to eat and somehow passing unrecognised. Americans of all political persuasions gleefully speculated over what her order – a chicken burrito bowl with guacamole – revealed about her frame of mind, while supporters gloated that the grainy security-camera footage seemed to show Clinton with her wallet out, paying for her own lunch. Here was not the former first lady, senator and secretary of state, known to people all over the world. This was someone’s unassuming grandmother, getting some food with her colleagues.

It might be unheard of for Clinton to go unrecognised but, for the woman next to her at the till, blending into the background is part of the job. Huma Abedin, often referred to as Clinton’s “shadow” by the US media, is now the vice-chair of her presidential campaign. She was Clinton’s deputy chief of staff at the state department and has been a personal aide since the late 1990s.

Abedin first met Clinton in 1996 when she was 19 and an intern at the White House, assigned to the first lady’s office. She was born in Michigan in 1976 to an Indian father and a Pakistani mother. When Abedin was two, they moved from the US to Saudi Arabia. She returned when she was 18 to study at George Washington University in Washington, DC. Her father was an Islamic scholar who specialised in interfaith reconciliation – he died when she was 17 – and her mother is a professor of sociology.

While the role of “political body woman” may once have been a kind of modern maid, there to provide a close physical presence and to juggle the luggage and logistics, this is no longer the case. During almost 20 years at Clinton’s side, Abedin has advised her boss on everything from how to set up a fax machine – “Just pick up the phone and hang it up. And leave it hung up” – to policy on the Middle East. When thousands of Clinton’s emails were made public (because she had used a private, rather than a government, server for official communication), we glimpsed just how close they are. In an email from 2009, Clinton tells her aide: “Just knock on the door to the bedroom if it’s closed.”

Abedin shares something else with Clinton, outside of their professional ties. They are both political wives who have weathered their husbands’ scandals. In what felt like a Lewinsky affair for the digital age, in 2011, Abedin’s congressman husband, Anthony Weiner, resigned from office after it emerged that he had shared pictures of his genitals with strangers on social media. A second similar scandal then destroyed his attempt to be elected mayor of New York in 2013. In an ironic twist, it was Bill Clinton who officiated at Abedin’s and Weiner’s wedding in 2010. At the time, Hillary is reported to have said: “I have one daughter. But if I had a second daughter, it would [be] Huma.” Like her boss, Abedin stood by her husband and now Weiner is a house husband, caring for their four-year-old son, Jordan, while his wife is on the road.

Ellie Foreman-Peck

A documentary filmed during Weiner’s abortive mayoral campaign has just been released in the US. Weiner shows Abedin at her husband’s side, curtailing his more chaotic tendencies, always flawless with her red lipstick in place. Speaking to the New York Observer in 2007, three years before their marriage, Weiner said of his future wife: “This notion that Senator Clinton is a cool customer – I mean, I don’t dispute it, but the coolest customer in that whole operation is Huma . . . In fact, I think there’s some dispute as to whether Huma’s actually human.” In the film, watching her preternatural calm under extraordinary pressure, you can see what he means.

In recent months, Abedin’s role has changed. She is still to be found at Clinton’s side – as the burrito photo showed – but she is gradually taking a more visible role in the organisation overall, as they pivot away from the primaries to focus on the national race. She meets with potential donors and endorsers on Clinton’s behalf and sets strategy. When a running mate is chosen, you can be sure that Abedin will have had her say on who it is. There’s a grim symmetry to the way politics looks in the US now: on one side, the Republican candidate Donald Trump is calling for a ban on Muslims entering the country; on the other, the presumptive Democratic nominee Hillary Clinton relies ever more on her long-time Muslim-American staffer.

Years before Trump, notable Republicans were trying to make unpleasant capital out of Abedin’s background. In 2012, Tea Party supporters alleged that she was linked to the Muslim Brotherhood and its attempt to gain access “to top Obama officials”. In her rare interviews, Abedin has spoken of how hurtful these baseless statements were to her family – her mother still lives in Saudi Arabia. Later, the senator and former Republican presidential candidate John McCain spoke up for her, saying that Abedin represented “what is best about America”.

Whether senior figures in his party would do the same now remains to be seen.

Caroline Crampton is web editor of the New Statesman.

This article first appeared in the 26 May 2016 issue of the New Statesman, The Brexit odd squad