Can international migrant labor programs advance climate justice?

This one's easy.

Hello, and welcome to Work Climate! I’m David, and I’m interested in how the climate crisis is impacting workers around the world. In this edition of my biweekly, unprofessional newsletter, I will grasp at answering the question above by pairing academic articles with recent developments in U.S. migrant labor programs. Join me! First up: Carmen G. Gonzalez’s Racial capitalism, climate justice, and climate displacement (Oñati Socio-Legal Series, 2021).

International Labor Programs and the “Migration Management” Approach to Climate Displacement

I read this piece — and heard Professor Gonzalez talk about it — this summer as a participant in Earth Refuge’s International School on Climate Migration. (If you haven’t heard, climate change is already contributing to the displacement of tens of millions of people per year, including across borders.) Very rarely does academic work make for a compelling read, but I found myself going back repeatedly to this article, especially to better understand how Gonzalez categorizes the predominant existing responses to climate-related mobility. She lays out the case against national security-, humanitarian-, and migration management-focused approaches, before suggesting a new paradigm, which I will let you read about in the paper.

I was particularly taken by Gonzalez’s description of the migration management approach — the “state-governed regulation of mobility to prevent uncontrolled mass migration” — which includes her takedown of what some pro-migration advocates might instinctively think of as good: “migrant worker programs in the global North” which can foster “economic development and climate resilience in the global South” (mainly through remittance payments). Gonzalez advances several critiques of this model:

• It shifts “the burden of climate change adaptation” to “climate-vulnerable populations”;

• It subjects climate-impacted populations “to the vicissitudes of Northern labour markets,” which often favor workers “who are young, able-bodied, light-skinned and skilled”; and

• It exacerbates “the vulnerability of ‘trapped populations’ who do not have the resources to participate in international labour markets or the means to move out of vulnerable geographic locations.”

In sum, Gonzalez writes, “the migration management approach enables the North to limit and control the movement of climate-displaced persons by portraying climate-induced temporary labour migration as an economic opportunity for a select group of ‘entrepreneurial’ migrants.”

I find all of this compelling, and we could port this reasoning to other contexts in which individuals’ worth is held to be synonymous with their economic productivity. But such theorizing, as important as it is, must be paired with on the ground perspectives. After all, for all their problems (some of which are described below), temporary, legal pathways to work are heavily sought after. What might these programs’ redeeming qualities be in the context of climate change? For that, let’s look at the aptly named A climate justice perspective on international labour migration and climate change adaptation among Tuvaluan workers from Carol Farbotko, Taukiei Kitara, Olivia Dun, and Christopher Evans (Oxford Open Climate Change, 2022).

Sinking Prospects

Farbotko et al. interviewed workers from Tuvalu — a “small, remote Pacific Island nation, consisting of a group of nine low elevation coral islands” — who joined “guest worker” programs in Australia and New Zealand. Although neither country explicitly frames these programs as tools for advancing climate justice, many commentators have, as they provide work opportunities for Tuvaluans and other citizens of island states facing down rising sea levels.

None of the participants in this study were yet contemplating leaving Tuvalu, but they viewed climate change as a “big threat.” Working abroad might, for some of these workers, be the only way to acquire the funds to buy “agricultural equipment, pay[] school fees, and rebuild[] assets damaged in disasters.” And Tuvalu’s Sustainable Development strategies even list “access to labour mobility schemes” as one of the islands’ key adaptation measures.

Still, the authors found that the programs in Australia and New Zealand — which are critical to the maintenance of “their agricultural sector and other rural industries” — do not account for “social and emotional” considerations. Consideration, for example, of the effects of predominantly young men migrating regularly, leaving women to “shoulder a heavier burden of household duties.” Climate justice, they write, “does not necessarily follow” from remittance payments — leaving open the possibility, however, that it could.

This perspective is at least somewhat in tension with Professor Gonzalez’s. The Farbotko team agree that labor migration programs “can individualize responsibility for adaptation, and reproduce the structural inequities which contribute to vulnerability in the first place,” yet they remain hopeful that such programs can be improved to operate more in line with climate justice (naturally, a capacious term, which I am very artfully avoiding defining here). If that’s correct, what might that mean for labor visas in the United States?

I read that you’re supposed to include images which will pique your audience’s interest.

Ripe for Reform

That’s the title of an influential report from Centro de los Derechos del Migrante, Inc. (CDM), where I had the pleasure of interning in 2022. I say influential because it’s one of several reports from CDM cited extensively by the Department of Homeland Security (DHS) in their recently proposed rule (scintillating screenshot above), which would change critical aspects of the United States’ “H-2” labor visa programs. What the hell are those, though?

Every year, hundreds of thousands of agricultural workers — mainly from Mexico and Central America — work in the United States on a temporary basis with H-2A visas. Tens of thousands of workers in other industries enter the country through a similar program with H-2B visas. As work by CDM and other organizations has extensively documented, however, these workers are regularly subject to fraud, abuse, and theft, often from the moment they first seek a visa in their home country. It would seem that, after years of advocacy, the Biden administration is finally ready to address some of these issues.

DHS’ proposed rule (which may yet be changed, or never go into effect) would strengthen certain protections against workers being charged illegal recruitment fees — a problem I saw running rampant during my time with CDM; give H-2 workers some whistleblower protections; and make it easier for workers to switch employers, among other modest adjustments.

I have no insight into what CDM and other migrant rights organizations will have to say about all of this, though I imagine they will find plenty to improve upon. One of the worst habits I’ve picked up during law school is reading through public comments on proposed administrative regulations, and there are already a few juicy ones on the H-2 rule as of this writing (you have until November 20 to contribute); I look forward to seeing what else is contributed.

What does any of this have to do with climate justice, however? There are at least three angles: First, as climate change worsens conditions for agriculture in Mexico, there will likely be even higher demand for H-2A positions, further exacerbating the disposability and vulnerability of those in the program. Second, the remittances generated by H-2 work might become increasingly important climate adaptation supports in climate-vulnerable countries, such as in Central America’s Northern Triangle, as is already happening in Tuvalu. Third — depending on how things go with the recently announced American Climate Corps — employers may push for more foreign labor (likely with H-2B visas) to join the ever-expanding climate recovery and resilience industry.

So, there is at least the possibility of increasing interaction between climate factors and how the H-2 program evolves, especially given the United States’ role as both a destination for many migrants in search of work, and the world’s biggest historical emitter of carbon. What to make of all this?

My guess is that critical scholars and commentators such as Professor Gonzalez would view DHS’ proposals as relatively weak reforms which do not fundamentally alter exploitative programs like H-2. Meanwhile, researchers like Farbotko et al. would likely have more thoughtful suggestions than I can muster on how the Biden administration could improve H-2 with climate in mind. For my part, I think the H-2 programs in their current form are fairly irredeemable, but I welcome whatever improvements are possible right now (the rumors of my radicalism have been greatly exaggerated). How about you?

This is an area I want to continue learning about — and working in — so if you have thoughts on anything above, please let me know in the comments or at creminsdavid@gmail.com :) Thanks for reading, and I’ll write more in 2 weeks!