Brain Drain

by Alex Palmer.

Blue and green cards are sadly both a colourblind person’s worst nightmare and far from colourblind from an immigration perspective– for the cards in question, the United States’ and the European Union’s main immigration schemes often exchange skilled immigrants from certain countries for hardship and toil on their part.

Human capital flight, or ‘brain drain’ (vaguely Hallowe’en-like, thank you editor) as it’s more commonly known is the consequence of ‘high-skilled’ emigration from one country to another, in the process bolstering the intended country’s workforce, and removing a skill-set from the country of origin. How can we in a world where there is so much discussion about remedying the wrongs done largely by the western world and decolonisation reconcile this effect with such liberal values as freedom of movement and support for lifting the developing world out of poverty?

Well dear reader, we’ve now reached the stage of the article where I do the one thing I really don’t like doing: semi-patronisingly explaining simple yet essential concepts to you. This time round it’s supply and demand. In short, as long as we’ve had jobs, we’ve had ‘skilled jobs’ that are in much demand throughout the world, and if there’s demand, supply will reach to fulfil it. Much the same is true with the pattern we see here: people move to where there are employment and other opportunities for them, whether that’s purely financial or otherwise.

It all seems so simple set out in such abstract terms as those on this page. Discussions of immigration issues such as the one you’re reading often leave it at that, bemoaning the consequences on the economy of migration from one country to another, or the (usually imagined, scaremongering) impact that it’s going to have on your wallet!, or perhaps your doctor’s waiting list!, or that Christmas is somehow not happening this year! Needless to say, these aren’t exactly backed up by rigorous studies.

We should rationally be talking about the very human reasons that mean these people make the usually very difficult choice to emigrate from the country that, up to that point, they’ve called home for their entire lives, but we don’t. After all, if you were given the choice most of us wouldn’t uproot ourselves to move to a different country for a considerable length of time, leaving behind family, friends, the landscapes and places we’ve grown up with. It is a difficult, heartbreaking decision, but also one that can offer hope and the promise of a better future. We should discuss it in such terms, not in pejoratives and bad-faith pieces.

Brain drain is also largely a perennial issue– something you read about in the effects of Brexit or the British press’ incessant drumming about immigration, but let us not forget amongst the jokey tone of this piece that in large portions of history this is instead mostly a discussion of those persecuted fleeing their country not because of economic interests, but because they have no other choice. From the plight of the Huguenots in the 17th century to the Jewish diaspora fleeing from waves of antisemitism in the mid 20th, this is not an issue that can be dealt with unseriously, and it would make for more decent discourse if we would address it as such. In much the same way, it is deeply unhelpful for the narrative around ‘brain drain’ to be expressed so negatively. At the end of the day, these are people seeking a better life. We would all be happier and better off if we addressed the reasons they leave, had some humanity, and were conscious of the way that we speak about them.