PPPS: “What Immigrants Owe Society”

The paper evolved as a side project to my doctoral dissertation on the theoretical and practical factors factors that ought to determine a just immigration policy. I was reading an article in the New York Times on immigration in Europe and was struck by some remarks made Nyamko Sabuni, Swedish minister for integration and gender equality:

A lot of people misread their rights,” [Sabuni] said recently. “They think that freedom of religion means they can do anything in the name of religion, or that human rights mean that they can act however they want against others.” Not true, she said. “If they want to live here, have kids, have grandchildren, they must make an effort to adapt to the society where they live.”

On one hand, her remarks appear almost banal — of course immigrants have adapt, at least in the sense of obeying the law, respecting entrenched norms and values and contributing to various public goods. (It is also the case that larger societies have to adapt to immigrant groups.) On the other hand, it struck me that she might be requiring something quite radical, namely that immigrants abandon substantial parts of their culture. The word “adapt” is ambiguous and says little about what immigrants’ precise moral obligations are.

While it seemed to me that many people agree that immigrants have some obligations to adapt, I found it extremely difficult to identify the grounds for this belief. What is troublesome is that longstanding groups within societies such as aboriginal groups, national minorities and even people who have chosen an “alternative” lifestyle do not have these obligations. Why should recent immigrants be in a different position, particularly if one values liberal autonomy and rights such as freedom of conscience, freedom of religion and freedom of association?

Working out these issues (or attempting to work them out!) led me to write this paper.

My paper can be downloaded here.

Matt Lister’s comments on the paper are available here.

You can listen to the podcast by clicking the arrow below:

 
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Thanks for your thought-provoking paper, Alex. I had a question about one of the grounds of the obligation of immigrants to learn the dominant language. You write (pp.24-26):

Citizens and tourists differ in the sense that only the former are authors or representatives of the law. Tourists must obey the law; citizens in liberal democracies need to be aware that the law is imposed in their names. For example, the decision to immigrate to the US morally implicates people in the abuses at Guantanamo Bay in a way that foreigners do not share…

When unjust laws are enforced in one’s name, there is a moral requirement to speak up. To ensure that one is not perpetrating injustice, there is a need to integrate into the society’s political culture. This leads us to the common claim that immigrants have an obligation to learn the language of majority…

It is the fact that the laws are imposed in the name of the new members that gives rise to an obligation to integrate so that it is possible to assume this responsibility.

These comments attribute responsibility for a government’s actions to its individual citizens, such that citizens are “perpetuating injustice” by failing to speak up against unjust government acts. Insofar as responsibility implies some kind of control, it seems you are assuming that individual citizens have control over their government’s actions. Yet even in an idealized democracy, this is not the case. For example, if I hold views shared by only a small minority, I may never bother speaking up in a political context about some policy that from my minority point of view is unjust; doing so would be pointless (and perhaps have anti-social effects). Am I thereby perpetuating injustice? Insofar as I remain in the jurisdiction of the government, am I even “morally implicated” in the injustice? I think the answers to these questions are “No.” I suppose I take the viewpoint of the “democratic loser” pretty seriously.

I think what this comes down to is that I’m having trouble accepting that when the government acts “in my name,” that creates moral duties for me. Whether it does create such duties depends on whether the government is entitled to perform the act “in my name.” And that will depend on whether I endorse the act in question. In short, when government claims to be acting “in my name,” sometimes that is just false advertising.

Additionally, it seems to me that there may be a general moral duty to speak up against unjust laws, whether they are advanced in one’s name or not. The strength of this duty may vary in proportion to one’s capacity to change the law, and this capacity does not seem to me to correlate with either residency or citizenship under the offending regime (think of the external pressure put on the South African government during Apartheid).

Perhaps I am too hung up on the “in my name” phrase. Am I misunderstanding your point? I’d be interested in hearing from you and others on this.

Thanks for the paper Alex. I’m thinking that in the context of Matt’s comments, Justin’s question is really on point.

As I understand it, your claim is that immigrants have an obligation to be able to participate in the political culture (and so must try to learn the language), and they have this obligation because when they become part of a society, they implicitly take responsibility for the possible injustices it may commit.

Matt asks about the distinction between naturalised citizens and non-naturalised residents, and suggests that the latter do not have the responsibility you mention. On one reading, this may be correct, because you refer to injustices committed “in my name” and this may refer only to citizens. So as long as a government does not act in the name of its non-naturalised residents, they wouldn’t have any obligation of political integration.

But on the other hand, you suggest that mere residence in a country could be morally culpable. So on p. 26, after mentioning the minimal requirements of decent citizenship, you mention that someone who chooses to migrate to Saudi Arabia or Sudan is morally culpable. Does this mean simply that it is simply a morally bad thing to do to go live in Saudi Arabia? Or does it mean rather that if you go to Saudi Arabia, you ought to involve yourself in the political culture, to the extent you can, to ameliorate the injustice of the regime? And then this may mean that the status of being a non-naturalised resident (when the opportunity for naturalisation is available, and in societies where citizenship has some political force) is not morally tenable. (Asking here as a non-naturalised resident.)

I guess I don’t think that either citizenship or residence creates any particular responsibility for political injustice. Like Justin, I tend not to be persuaded by the “in my name” argument. Lots of people can act in my name to do bad things. White supremacists act in my name. I’d much rather they didn’t though, and I haven’t given them permission to do so. Similarly, I can’t see how e.g. voting in a democratic election implicates one in the horrendous decisions of a president one did not vote for.

But I’m not particularly taken by the idea that residency creates culpability either. So I don’t think it is per se wrong to go live in Sudan, unless, of course, one is going to go live in Sudan to assist in genocide, etc. This isn’t because one could do good in Sudan. Rather, it seems to me that one’s being there as opposed to one’s being here when bad things happen there is in itself morally irrelevant, except insofar as it may create a somewhat greater opportunity for one to be able to fulfil natural duties of justice to help those who have been harmed, and put a stop to the injustice. But as Justin notes, this question of one’s power to act against unjust laws cuts across borders, and may even be more salient outside the country than inside.

I’d like to thank Matt, Justin and Simon for their thoughtful and challenging comments.

Let me reply to each in turn.

***

I largely agree with Matt’s helpful reconstruction of my arguments. One of the challenges that the paper poses is the difficulty of distinguishing general duties that may take a slightly different form in some contexts and special duties. Much of the first part of the paper tries to show that what are sometimes believed to be special duties do not, in fact, have this status.

I also appreciate his comments about children. Another issue that deserves more attention is the question of what counts as a “voluntary” decision. Given the grotesque injustice and inequality around the globe, most immigrants’ responsibilities are mitigated. To what extent is hard to determine.

The question of naturalization is important. Immigrants who do come voluntarily face two choices. The first choice involves taking up residence in a particular country. The second, which occurs after a period of residence (usually not less than 3 years), is whether or not to become a citizen of their new country. As I understand Matt, he places more weight on the second choice; I am inclined to think that the first choice, combined with the decision to remain, is the important one.

I think there is more of a disagreement regarding naturalization which raises some difficulties. There are indeed legitimate reasons for why people may not naturalize. In some cases, they would like to become citizens, but there are obstacles in countries of residence (often even when the official process is ostensibly just). In other cases, their country of origin does not allow dual citizenship. Since many immigrants continue to have ties to their former home, naturalization would be a burden.

Finally, immigrants may not want to become citizens. They may not identify with the country they live in and believe that to accept more rights entails greater obligations — obligations they would rather not assume. In some cases this is entirely reasonable. If people immigrate to escape persecution, violence, oppression or poverty, they may be making the best choice they can in a bad world. However, I am not convinced that refusing to naturalize absolves us.

I fully agree with Joseph Carens’ view that naturalization should be a more or less automatic process (assuming that people want to become citizens). This is similar to Michael Walzer’s comparison of long-term guest workers to Greek metics in Spheres of Justice – some residents are de facto members of the community and ought to be treated as such. Political rights should be tied to residence in a community – those who live under laws should have a say in them – rather than a legal procedure declaring one’s status. The decision to allow permanent residents to vote in some districts strikes me as the just one.

I appealed to the naturalization process primarily to confirm intuitions that language requirements are fair. Few immigrants appear to believe that this is an unreasonable condition for citizenship. Of course, there are exceptions. (E.g., it would be absurd to require that someone’s 85 year old grandmother must learn the language of majority.) I am not sure, either, that language competency ought to be a legal requirement for citizenship. In any case, the system must have a way of dealing with these sorts of cases.

If this is correct, the line between legally assuming citizenship and choosing to remain for a long period of time is considerably blurred.

This leads to another central point: is learning the dominant language necessary? I agree that a common language is unnecessary for a well-ordered society if this is taken to mean public recognition of the principles of justice and reasonably just basic institutions. But I’m inclined to think that the actual running of these institutions is subject to human failure, misapplication, abuse and a host of other imperfections. Legal decisions are a case in point – just laws and procedures when implemented may lead to unjust decisions. Moreover, laws that were taken to be just may turn out to prejudice people when circumstances change (e.g., when a society becomes more multicultural).

Matt is right to point out that Habermas’ public sphere is a more useful notion for my purposes. (I couldn’t resist the Rawlsian term “public reason” for a podcast on the blog!) I believe that public discourse is needed to counteract the ossification and misapplication of law and policy.

This is ultimately an empirical matter, but it seems to me that an inclusive, fully adequate public discourse is only possible if people are able to talk to each other. In most countries, there is a dominant language and those who do not master it persist on the margins of society since they are not able to participate in their society’s basic institutions and voice their concerns. Nor are people on the margins of society able to combat its wrongdoings. If that can escape from the margins, I think they ought to do so, not merely for their own sake, but for the other people in society who will benefit from their voice.

***

I’m grateful for Justin’s thoughtful question – the question of what it means for a government to “act in one’s name” indeed goes to the heart of the matter. It’s something I don’t think I adequately address, but need to. I’m also very interested in hearing what other people think.

Your point about control is important, as are questions about what outcomes we can reasonably expect our actions to have. Ought implies can and we surely can’t be held responsible for outcomes that we are unable to influence. Still, we have a responsibility to do what we can. What this turns out to be depends on the circumstances.

I would decouple responsibility from control somewhat. Sometimes apparently futile action is required (e.g., I know that my candidate in my district will not win, but will vote anyway). As well, we often don’t know the long term effects of our actions – early protesters or conscientious objectors sometimes trigger social movements.

The question regarding to what extent laws are imposed in one’s name is a difficult one and interesting one.

Let me consider Simon’s example of the white supremacists who say they “act in my name”. This seems to me quite different from a government of a democratic country claiming the same. White supremacists do not derive their legitimacy from my actions; rather, they’re complete unconnected (though if they are in my community, I have an obligation to resist and denounce them). I am connected in a morally relevant way to my government, which derives its right to govern from a democratic election.

I agree with Justin that there are general moral duties to speak up against unjust laws anywhere in the world, but would argue that these duties are more pressing when one’s own society perpetrates these laws.

It is easy to feel that we are not responsible for our governments’ policies – indeed, that it would be perverse to hold us personally responsible in many cases. We are responsible for our actions and are only responsible for our government’s actions insofar as we played an intentional, causal role in bring them about. Even “ideal” democracies engage in appalling acts from time to time and all their most conscientious citizens can do is stand helplessly by.

Still, it seems to me that these citizens have duties that people abroad do not. Many people take pride in their country’s virtues and feel they have played a small role here. Why shouldn’t they also feel ashamed when their country displays its vices? In the case of democratic societies which protect basic rights, I believe pride and shame are warranted.

This isn’t to confuse individuals with their government or blame people for not doing the impossible, but to think that people need to assume some responsibility for how they act. In some cases, they should refrain from participating as far as possible. Someone who accepts a job as a senior level government official under apartheid is far worse than someone who silently stands by. But people who stand by when speaking up would have little cost (and sometimes significant cost, depending on the gravity of the injustice) act badly.

Some actions that might be required are: 1) to vote in an informed way; 2) to explain the injustice to people who will listen; 3) to participate in community forums or grassroots organizations. Duties vary according to one’s position in society and circumstances, but nonetheless exist. And when we don’t act as we should, we are blameworthy.

***

Some of Simon’s concerns overlap with and elaborate on Matt and Justin’s comments. One different point that he articulates well is why mere residence is morally relevant. Particularly, I would like to address his suggestion that there is nothing particularly wrong with living in Sudan as long as one does not perpetuate genocide:

“Rather, it seems to me that one’s being there as opposed to one’s being here when bad things happen there is in itself morally irrelevant, except insofar as it may create a somewhat greater opportunity for one to be able to fulfill natural duties of justice to help those who have been harmed, and put a stop to the injustice.”

The suggestion is that being in a particular place is only morally relevant insofar as it might put one in a better position to prevent harm.

One question is what might implicate us. If I work in the oil industry, I am surely playing a role in propping up the NCP and harming people. But what if I am not harming anybody, but merely residing? I’m not sure what can reasonably be required here. I doubt that someone residing in Sudan can do that much to prevent the daily atrocities – and to do so might involve considerable personal risk.

For what it’s worth, the 2007 Freedom House gave it the lowest possible score on political rights and civil liberties. Ordinary citizens do not have a role in legitimizing the government which was not democratically elected. But does that mean I shouldn’t choose to live in Sudan, that I am morally culpable for making the decision to rent an apartment in Khartoum? If I am not engaged in any act of resistance, could I claim that I am in no way supporting the government? I’m not sure.

One thing emigration can be is an act of protest against an unjust regime. Some draft dodgers who left the United States did this. So perhaps people who can escape an unacceptable regime have a duty to do so and expose its horrors abroad. Some Sudanese in fact have done this.

In general, mere residence isn’t morally problematic. Rather, residence is usually accompanied with the opportunity to exercise some control over one’s environment, particularly the laws and policies that govern us. It is this implication which cannot be avoided without withdrawing altogether from society that creates a special obligation not held toward people in other parts of the world.

***

Once again, I very much appreciate these comments. They have forced me to rethink my paper and will surely improve the next draft.

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