2.1 Challenging the vulnerable-group approach

Prevailing approaches to vulnerability attach the label ‘vulnerable’ to certain groups only. Proponents of the vulnerable-group approach expound that it does not negate the notion that vulnerability is universal – a notion that goes to the core of vulnerability theory (Fineman, Reference Fineman2008; Turner, Reference Turner2006). They contend that this approach recognises that some of us are more vulnerable than others and thus in need of special protection (Tobin, Reference Tobin2015, p. 162; Mégret, Reference Mégret2008, p. 495). They further posit that the vulnerable-group approach makes the concept of vulnerability more fathomable and thus more useful (Levine et al., Reference Levine2004). We disagree with the proposition that the vulnerable-group approach offers a practical conceptualisation of vulnerability that enables it to serve as a protective device. We argue that this approach yields distorted versions of human vulnerability because its theoretical underpinning and instrumentalisation reconstruct the lived experience.

The vulnerable-group approach is grounded in liberal theory and so affirms the invulnerable liberal subject (Fineman, Reference Fineman2019, p. 355). As it upholds invulnerability as the norm, the vulnerable-group approach problematises vulnerability and consequently the vulnerable subject. Vulnerability is reduced to something entirely negative, something to deplore (Herring, Reference Herring and Freeman2011, p. 256), which obscures its generative dimension (Fineman, Reference Fineman2012, p. 96; Herring, Reference Herring and Freeman2011, p. 256). Importantly, this problematising extends to the inescapable dependency on others that comes with being vulnerable (Herring, Reference Herring and Freeman2011, p. 256). This rebuke of dependency is particularly acute in the case of migrants as the construction of asylum seekers and other ‘unwanted migrants’ as ‘parasites upon the nation's hospitality’ shows (O'Gorman, Reference O'Gorman2006, p. 52). Indeed, in addition to being invulnerable, the liberal subject is nationalised; this subject is firmly anchored in the bounded nation state – he is a (national) citizen.Footnote ² As those labelled vulnerable inevitably fail to meet the unachievable standards of the fictional liberal subject, they are stereotyped and stigmatised (Da Lomba, Reference Da2014, p. 344) as well as objectified and silenced (Tobin, Reference Tobin2015). With their agency negated, these persons are ‘dealt with’ by paternalistic powers and institutions (Butler, Reference Butler, Butler, Gambetti and Sabsay2016, p. 25). Revealingly, ‘the term “vulnerability” too often serves to portray migrants in a negative light, as helpless victims’ (Atak et al., Reference Atak2018, p. 2).

Critically, the vulnerable-group approach is not the protective device that it purports to be. This approach is commonly instrumentalised to serve restrictive migration policies. For example, the categorisation of female trafficked migrants as vulnerable is frequently used to legitimise stringent border and migration measures (Fitzgerald, Reference Fitzgerald2010, p. 279). Similarly, under the guise of protection against ruthless smugglers, pushback measures serve to keep ‘undesirable’ migrants out whilst concealing their vulnerability to these very measures (Freedman, Reference Freedman2018). This instrumentalisation of the vulnerable-group approach is also apparent in policy-makers’ decisions not to categorise certain groups as vulnerable. Tellingly, young male adult migrants are not categorised as vulnerable notwithstanding their undeniable vulnerability to migration policies (Sözer, Reference Sözer2019, p. 15).

2.2 Fuller vulnerability analysis

We posit that in contrast to the vulnerable-group approach, fuller vulnerability analysis – described as a ‘critical normative project’ (Grear, Reference Grear, Fineman and Grear2013, p. 42) – offers a potent device to recognise and respond to human vulnerability in all its complexities and diversity. Grear's fuller vulnerability analysis builds on (thinner) vulnerability analysis in that it debunks the myth of the invulnerable liberal subject and replaces it with the human vulnerable subject (Fineman, Reference Fineman2008). Its rebuke of the fictional invulnerable subject is further apparent in its purpose. Fuller and (thinner) vulnerability analyses work towards resilience-building; they do not countenance invulnerability as an aim to be pursued (Fineman, Reference Fineman2010–2011, p. 269). However, and in contrast with (thinner) vulnerability analysis (Fineman, Reference Fineman2010–2011), fuller vulnerability analysis is grounded in the realities of our ‘uneven globalised world’ (Grear, Reference Grear, Fineman and Grear2013, p. 53), including migration. As it looks beyond the relationship between the state and its (national) citizens, fuller vulnerability analysis compels a rethink of how we look at and respond to the vulnerability and dependency of ‘others’.

Fuller vulnerability analysis conceptualises vulnerability in light of the human experience. Its understanding of vulnerability draws on Fineman's (thinner) vulnerability analysis. It recognises that vulnerability is universal and constant (Fineman, Reference Fineman2008, p. 1); it acknowledges that we are all vulnerable at all times both as embodied (Fineman, Reference Fineman2008, p. 9) and socially embedded beings (Grear, Reference Grear, Fineman and Grear2013, p. 49). The theorisation of vulnerability as universal does not eschew the particular. Fuller vulnerability analysis recognises that we all experience vulnerability in different ways because we ‘have different forms of embodiment and also are differently situated within webs of economic and institutional relationships’ (Fineman, Reference Fineman2010–2011, p. 269). The COVID-19 pandemic, which has prompted the theoretical framing of this paper, acutely exposes the universal and particular dimensions of human vulnerability as we are all vulnerable to this virus, but in very different ways (Khunti et al., Reference Khunti2020). In contrast with the vulnerable-group approach, the recognition of the particular does not essentialise the experience of the vulnerable subject – a risk associated with labelling populations as vulnerable (Tobin, Reference Tobin2015, p. 169). Fuller vulnerability analysis's all-embracing conceptualisation of vulnerability is also apparent in its affirmation of its generative dimension. It is undeniable that vulnerability has negative traits, but it is also good (Herring, Reference Herring and Freeman2011, p. 256). Our vulnerability and resultant dependency on others carry ‘opportunities for innovation and growth, creativity and fulfilment. It makes us reach out to others, form relationships, and build institutions’ (Fineman, Reference Fineman2012, p. 96).

Whilst we espouse Fineman's basic conceptualisation of vulnerability, we challenge the exclusionary paradox that lies at the core of her vulnerability analysis. Fineman's theory rests on the premise that vulnerability is universal; yet, both her vulnerable subject and responsive state are shaped by the nation state. We concur with Fineman that vulnerability calls for a responsive state (Fineman, Reference Fineman2010–2011). The latter indeed plays a crucial role in the creation and distribution of resilience-building resources. However, the state is only one actor among many, and complex power relationships mediate its (lack of) responsiveness to vulnerability within and beyond its borders. For this reason, we espouse Grear's fuller iteration of vulnerability analysis as it locates investigations into the ‘systems of power and privilege that interact to produce the webs of advantages and disadvantages’ (Fineman, Reference Fineman2008, p. 16) within our unequal, interdependent and interlocked world (Grear, Reference Grear, Fineman and Grear2013, pp. 52–56).

Crucially, fuller vulnerability analysis denationalises the vulnerable subject. Whilst Fineman rebukes the invulnerability of the vulnerable subject, she accepts his nationalised dimension. Her vulnerability theory is essentially concerned with the state–(national) citizen relationship. When it comes to non-citizens, Fineman suggests that the responsive state has a duty towards ‘others to whom [the state] owes some obligation’ and intimates that these ‘others’ may include ‘non-citizens who are resident, long-term visitors, or those who have some other connection with the State which makes the state responsible for them’ (Fineman, Reference Fineman2010–2011, p. 256). Who benefits from Fineman's responsive state is therefore contingent on the nation state's understanding of who belongs, which excludes ‘unwanted migrants’. As it affirms the responsive state's immigration power, Fineman's vulnerability analysis has an inevitable exclusionary dimension – a dimension that weakens the claimed progressiveness of her theory. As we will show below, Levinas's theory of radical vulnerability denies the state this choice. The state is obliged and has no other option but to offer a warm and generous welcome to the Other.

As it denationalises the vulnerable subject and situates her within our uneven globalised world, fuller vulnerability analysis prompts a ‘deeply ethical impulse’ that empowers us ‘to envision cooperations and solidarities across the divide and the asymmetry’ of our globalised world (Radhakrishnan, 1996, p. vii) as it extends the reach of our emotional identification with others (Carens, Reference Carens1996). Our ethical vulnerability analysis, however, goes further. Below, we engage with Levinas's and Derrida's radical vulnerability and the ethics of hospitality to deepen the ethical drive that comes with fuller vulnerability analysis. This deepening takes the form of a duty of hospitality owed to the Other – a duty of paramount significance in times of global pandemic.

2.3 Radical vulnerability analysis

We posit that Levinas's radical vulnerability analysis makes fuller vulnerability analysis an even more progressive device. It provides the transformative (philosophical) accountability that is so needed in times of crisis. Levinas's theory does so by forcing us to confront and respond to the vulnerability of the Other.Footnote ³ For this reason, Levinas's vulnerability analysis has a particularly valuable contribution to make to vulnerability theory, notably in relation to asylum seekers and other migrants.

Levinas adopts a phenomenological approach to vulnerability. He recognises that the self has a vulnerable body; to be more specific, he observes that she has biological needs – like eating. This initial observation, however, does not mean that Levinas's vulnerability analysis starts from the self. Quite the contrary: Levinas uses the self's vulnerability as an opening to be receptive to the vulnerability of the Other. He uses the self's biological needs as a way to interrupt the self-centric notion of the subject (Wurgaft, Reference Wurgaft and Morgan2019, p. 558). Accordingly, for Levinas, ‘to recognise the Other is to recognise a hunger’ (Levinas, Reference Levinas and Lingis1969, p. 75). Thus, food and eating not only become a signification of the vulnerable body, but they also represent ‘the central modality of ethical encounter’ (Wurgaft, Reference Wurgaft and Morgan2019, p. 561). Consequently, in addition to appreciating the vulnerability of the body, Levinas's theory recognises the relational aspect of vulnerability. Levinas's understanding of vulnerability as both embodied and embedded resonates with tenets of vulnerability analysis (Perpich, Reference Perpich, Fagenblat and Erdur2020, pp. 208, 214). Yet, vulnerability theorists such as Fineman do not engage with Levinas notwithstanding the points of connection between his work and mainstream vulnerability theory. This lack of engagement with Levinas's work pervades Anglo-American legal theory and political philosophy (Fagenblat, Reference Fagenblat, Fagenblat and Erdur2020, p. 9; Houser, Reference Houser and Morgan2019, pp. 587–589). In general terms, this can be attributed to the analytical and Continental divide in philosophy, but there are also some more specific reasons of which two stand out. First, Levinas's highly abstract prose that draws heavily upon a religious (Jewish) experience is not easily accessible and translatable to specific situations (Fagenblat, Reference Fagenblat, Fagenblat and Erdur2020, p. 8). Second, Levinas's work on ethics offers something related to moral philosophers, such as Fineman, but simultaneously is also very different. What Levinas calls ethics does not belong in the field of moral philosophy, but rather deals with the metaphysics of meaning (Fagenblat, Reference Fagenblat, Fagenblat and Erdur2020, p. 10). Levinas's theory is for some too progressive and unachievable as Levinas's ethics is based on an absolute, radical and asymmetrical responsibility unlike most other vulnerability and ethical theories that are based on mutual recognition, reciprocity and symmetry (Breuer, Reference Breuer2020, p. 114). As Perpich reflects, while traditional ethical theories (including Fineman's) are seeking to optimise moral stability, Levinas, on the other hand, disrupts the status quo of our society (Perpich, Reference Perpich, Fagenblat and Erdur2020, p. 217). Below, we show how our ethical vulnerability analysis compels us to reimagine our relationship with the Other.

For Levinas, vulnerability lies in the inter-human relation – the encounter between the Other and the self. Critically, this encounter begets a duty towards the Other: a duty to welcome the Other. Levinas situates the vulnerable subject relationally in the face-to-face relationship to account for the vulnerability of the Other, but also the self. For Levinas, ‘the face [of the Other] is the testimony of the suffering that grounds ethics’ (Breuer, Reference Breuer2020, p. 100). To call upon responsibility towards the Other, Levinas situates the ethical encounter in the face of the Other and uses the naked face as a trope to instigate vulnerability that obliges responsibility (Levinas, Reference Levinas and Hand1989, p. 48). The nakedness of the face signifies that the self, when encountering the destituteness of the Other, has no other option but to respond to the needs of the person who is facing her (Levinas, Reference Levinas and Lingis1969, pp. 245–256).

What makes Levinas's ethics of the face particularly valuable within the context of migration and welcoming the Other is that Levinas refers to the face within the context of making a ‘higher’ demand that cannot be ignored. The otherness of the Other consists of a command that emanates from the destitution of the face of the Other (Levinas, Reference Levinas and Lingis1969, pp. 198–199, 245–246), meaning that the command of the Other cannot be ignored. The command that appears is an expression of the ultimate command ‘you shall not kill’ but discloses itself also in other forms, such as ‘feed me’ or ‘shelter me’, ‘make room for me’, ‘share the world with me’ or ‘reduce my suffering’ (Levinas, Reference Levinas and Lingis1969, pp. 198–199). It is in these commands that we can detect Levinas's aversion of symmetry and, therefore, that we are in debt towards the Other. Through the notion of asymmetry, Levinas airs a strong critique against the social order that is based on the liberal protection of free will, autonomy and reason (Houser, Reference Houser and Morgan2019, pp. 588–589). Instead, Levinas proposes that, through an asymmetrical relationship whereby I am always there for the Other, another form of extreme responsibility emerges that not only guides the inter-human relationship, but also becomes the basis for the state and other institutions (Smith, Reference Smith and Morgan2019, p. 624) to act responsibly. Indeed, Levinas's ethics of the inter-human relation shapes the ethics of the state. As Mao confirms, Levinas prepares the ground for a new sociopolitical debate by, first, introducing the vulnerable subject and, second, the entrance of the third (le tiers) or the sociopolitical destiny of many others (Mao, Reference Mao2020, p. 214).

The concept of the third signifies for Levinas the point that morality reaches beyond just the face of the one who faces the self but extends to all others – all humanity including the self. This awareness shows that Levinas extends responsibility and morality to those who are not present. Indeed, just listening to the demand of the one who faces me would mean excluding all the others. For Levinas, the idea that all the others – humanity – are incorporated in the demand of the other who faces me provides the structure of justice. As Cohen explains, for Levinas, humanity is ‘the source of the call to justice, the demand for fairness, measure, quantification, and equality’ (Cohen, Reference Cohen and Levinas1998, p. xvi). Consequently, being-for-the-other is always already conditioned in the nation state (Levinas, Reference Levinas and Lingis1998, p. 116; Bernasconi, Reference Bernasconi and Morgan2019, p. 263). Hence, social spaces should welcome not only the Other, but also the other Others (Simmons, Reference Simmons and Morgan2019, pp. 281, 285). Here, Levinas is expressing a critique against the idea of autonomy being a key characteristic of selfhood. The welcome offered to the Other is not a gesture that is freely given because of the autonomous position of the self. Rather, it is a preceding responsibility because we are in this world relationally and defined by kinship – two aspects that are making us all vulnerable (Simmons, Reference Simmons and Morgan2019, p. 287). Critically, Levinas's approach unequivocally denationalises the vulnerable subject as it makes us and our institutions responsible towards the Other irrespective of her position vis-à-vis the nation state.

Through the realm of le tiers, the third party – or the responsibility to not just one Other, but many Others – Levinas holds politics accountable to the ethical norm of an inter-human relationship centred on the idea of being there for the Other (Levinas, Reference Levinas and Lingis1998, p. 159). Thus, Levinas's ethics of the individual shapes his understanding of institutional ethics. As Mao explains, Levinas situates vulnerability in the triangular relationship between the vulnerability of the subject, the vulnerability of the Other and the vulnerability of the third (Mao, Reference Mao2020, p. 211). This relational and communal approach to vulnerability allows us to make the point that Levinas's ethics, although starting from the ethical encounter with the Other, can be extended into migration laws and policies.

We contend that Levinas's approach to vulnerability provides fuller vulnerability analysis with the ethical underpinning that it needs to render the political accountable to the vulnerable subject. By bringing politics into the relation with the third, Levinas's radical vulnerability analysis supports fuller vulnerability analysis's awareness and responsiveness of our uneven globalised world. Levinas compels us to recognise that we owe the Other – including the asylum-seeking Other – an unconditional welcome, which injects a much-needed ethical element into the political debate around the meaning and praxis of asylum. There is an explicit call from Levinas that any state institution – including the law – is accountable to the responsibility of the one and all the others (Levinas, Reference Levinas and Lingis1998, p. 159). Levinas is clear that although it may be more obvious to be responsible to the one who is close to me, justice can only be justice ‘in a society where there is no distinction between those close and those far off’ (Levinas, Reference Levinas and Lingis1998, p. 159). The asymmetry that is brought about in proximity – the self being responsible for the Other – also plays an important role in bringing about justice in the political system – or the state being responsible for Others.

Critically, the duty owed to the Other is never fulfilled and can always be perfected (Levinas, Reference Robbins2001, p. 206). Consequently, for Levinas, justice requires that the responsible state questions itself when faced with the ethical encounter; self-critique is indeed an important part of an ethico-political task (Simmons, Reference Simmons and Morgan2019, p. 293). Legislation is therefore something that is unfinished; it should remain open and receptive for betterment (Levinas, Reference Robbins2001, p. 206). It follows that Levinas's vulnerability theory buttresses the self-reflective dimension of the critical normative project that is fuller vulnerability analysis (Grear, Reference Grear, Fineman and Grear2013, p. 42). Thus, within the context of migration, Levinas's vulnerability analysis offers the basis from which to subvert the host–guest relation – a relation that goes to the core of migration policies – so the state has a responsibility to welcome asylum seekers and other migrants as if they are the hosts. In order to fully understand this premise, it is important to unpack the notion of hospitality in the work of Levinas and one of his main interlocutors, Derrida.

4.1 The UK's hostile environment and the problematising of social welfare for asylum seekers

Asylum and immigration laws and policies have an inbuilt hostile dimension as they seek to control and exclude the ‘other’; they are fundamentally host-centred. As Derrida compellingly argues, these laws and policies inevitably negate unconditional hospitality as the host unilaterally sets out the requirements that the Other will have to satisfy to be ‘welcomed’ into the host's space (Derrida, Reference Derrida and Bowlby2000). Increases in the number of asylum seekers in the UK in the late 1980s and early 1990s coupled with the 1990s economic recession yielded a policy shift that marked the onset of today's UK's (even more) hostile environment (Mulvey, Reference Mulvey2010). Since then, the problematising of asylum seekers – epitomised by the construction of the ‘bogus asylum seeker’ (Bales, Reference Bales2013, pp. 435–436) – has served to justify hospitality laws that demarcate asylum seekers from national citizens. This inhospitality paradigm makes for policies that are desensitised to asylum seekers’ vulnerability and dependency on national resources, and closely entwine social welfare for asylum seekers with immigration control. This entanglement feeds off the pull-factor rhetoric that associates welfare provision for asylum seekers and other migrants with increased immigration. This has caused welfare provision for asylum seekers to be highly contested (Fox O'Mahony and Sweeney, Reference Fox, Mahony and Sweeney2010, p. 295). Following successive restrictions to welfare provision,Footnote ⁵ the construction of asylum seekers as ‘undeserving others’ was cemented by the Immigration and Asylum Act 1999 (‘the 1999 Act’).Footnote ⁶

The 1999 Act, which is still in force, excludes asylum seekers from mainstream welfare benefits as persons ‘subject to immigration control’.Footnote ⁷ In addition to introducing a separate welfare scheme for asylum seekers – the asylum support systemFootnote ⁸ – the 1999 Act established the UK's compulsory dispersal of asylum seekers.Footnote ⁹ The UK's asylum support and dispersal policies have played a key part in enabling its hostile environment and its treatment of asylum seekers as ‘parasitic guests’ whose vulnerability and dependency place undue burdens on national resources and render the UK guest more vulnerable. The relationship between the asylum-seeking guest and the UK host is thus envisaged as a relationship between parasite and reluctant host, which antagonises their respective vulnerability with far-reaching consequences for asylum seekers’ participation in the mobilisation and distribution of social welfare.

Support for asylum seekers is in the form of financial support and/or accommodation. The asylum support system provides two main packages: one for asylum seekers who have not received a final decision or have an appeal pending (Section 95 support)Footnote ¹⁰ and one for asylum seekers who have been refused asylum (Section 4 support).Footnote ¹¹ Temporary support may be provided to asylum seekers awaiting a decision on their application for Section 95 support.Footnote ¹² All support schemes require that applicants be destitute or likely to become destitute.Footnote ¹³ Asylum seekers are considered destitute when they do not have and cannot obtain adequate accommodation, food and other essential items.Footnote ¹⁴ Cohen compellingly observes that the level of support granted to asylum seekers constitutes ‘a qualitative leap in the link between welfare and immigration status’ as it reduces ‘assistance to asylum-seekers to a form of Poor Law’ (Cohen, Reference Cohen2001, p. 24). They ‘receive welfare support, which amounts to less than a third of the weekly spend of the poorest 10% of British citizens’ (Mayblin and James, Reference Mayblin and James2019, p. 375). Tellingly, calls for an increase in asylum support payments in line with that of universal creditFootnote ¹⁵ in the face of the COVID-19 pandemic were met with a feeble response on the part of the UK government. The latter agreed to an increase, but the increase remained much lower than for mainstream benefits (Scottish Refugee Council, Reference Scottish2021b). Asylum seekers are thus left to survive below the subsistence level (Mulvey, Reference Mulvey2010, p. 441) and exposed to the risk of destitution, which is compounded by their being denied the right to work.Footnote ¹⁶ The prospect of facing destitution is heightened in the case of refused asylum seekers as Section 4 support is construed as a short-term mechanism for people who must leave the UK (Bloom, Reference Bloom and Kershen2015, pp. 77–96). It follows that asylum support cannot be construed as an act of hospitality within the Levinasian and Derridean understanding. It is not instrumental in opening the door to asylum seekers; rather, asylum support merely provides these ‘parasitic guests’ – if at all – with resources to survive rather than cohabit with their UK hosts.

The problematising of asylum seekers’ vulnerability and dependency is further manifest in the UK's dispersal policy. Entangled with the restrictive asylum welfare regime, this policy plays a part in the UK's exclusionary system of control (Weber, Reference Weber2012). Revealingly, the rhetoric that accompanied the introduction of the UK's dispersal policy equated the provision of asylum accommodation to a burden that had to be spread across the UK (Darling, Reference Darling2016). Thus, enforced dispersal further entrenches asylum seekers’ treatment as ‘parasitic guests’ as it evidences the UK host's unwillingness to share its space with them.

4.2 Social welfare for asylum seekers in Scotland: asylum accommodation and the COVID-19 pandemic

Scotland's New Scots Refugee Integration Strategy 2018–2022 (‘the New Scots Strategy’) epitomises its positioning as a hospitable outlier as it sets out the country's vision ‘for a welcoming Scotland where refugees and asylum seekers are able to rebuild their lives from the day they arrive’ (Scottish Government et al., 2018, p. 10). Yet asylum seekers do face inhospitality in Scotland. Taking asylum accommodation as our focus, we show that asylum seekers remain ‘parasitic guests’ in Scotland and that the COVID-19 pandemic has (to date) failed to reverse – or even curb – the problematising of welfare provision for asylum seekers in Scotland.

The vision that underpins the New Scots Strategy envisages the status of guest as a transitory phase to ‘hosthood’; the New Scots Strategy aims to support Scotland's asylum-seeking and refugee guests to become Scottish hosts. The breadth of Scotland's welcome to refugees and asylum seekers – a welcome that extends to asylum seekers who have been refused asylum but remain in Scotland (Scottish Government et al., 2018, p. 11) – suggests a strong hospitable ethos that is capable of challenging the UK hostile environment. However, we posit that Scotland's hospitality remains fundamentally conditional and consequently inevitably exclusionary.

We attribute the conditional nature of Scotland's welcome to the UK's present constitutional settlement that places Scotland within the reach of UK's hospitality laws and hostile environment. However, we also contend that Scotland's understanding of what it means to be hospitable is problematic. The term ‘New Scots’ evokes a radical ethical turn in Scotland's approach to hospitality that will enable Scotland's asylum-seeking guests to become Scottish hosts. The door, however, is not as open as the image of the ‘New Scot’ first suggests. Indeed, the New Scots Strategy (implicitly) concedes that hospitality is conditional as it notes that ‘there is a distinction [between asylum seekers and refugees] in UK immigration legislation, which means they have different rights and entitlements’ (Scottish Government et al., 2018, p. 11). Therefore, Scotland's hospitality is only extended – one might say can only be extended – to those ‘guests’ who satisfy the requirements of UK immigration and asylum laws. For others, Scotland's door is likely to remain ajar – if not shut. For example, under current hospitality laws, asylum seekers who have been refused asylum but remain in Scotland cannot become ‘New Scots’ because of their immigration status. Whilst it is true that Scotland has attempted to temper the hostility these asylum seekers experience through the exercise of devolved powers,Footnote ¹⁷ it is also true – as we note below – that their status as ‘parasitic guests’ has been affirmed by Scottish courts.Footnote ¹⁸ Research on destitution and asylum in Scotland conducted in 2012 starkly observes that ‘refused asylum seekers will continue to be destitute and homeless until the rules are changed, relying on voluntary and charitable support, friends and communities to meet their basic needs for survival, sometimes for years’ (Gillepsie, Reference Gillepsie2012, p. 56). To date, the necessary changes have not occurred and asylum seekers in Scotland and other UK nations continue to face the prospect of destitution. Moreover, we posit that the notion of conditional hospitality is also embedded in Scotland's and, to be more precise the Scottish government's, plans should Scotland gain devolved powers in matters of immigration and asylum or become independent. For example, the Scottish government put forward the idea of a Scottish visa as part of a wider call for devolved immigration powers (Scottish Government, Reference Scottish2020). Yet visas can be said to epitomise conditionality as they indicate ‘which migrants are seen as “desirable”’ (Czaika and De Hass, Reference Czaika and De2017, p. 902). It follows that Scotland's ambition is one of greater conditional hospitality rather than unqualified welcome. Its hospitable vision does not challenge the host-centred bias that goes to the core of hospitality laws, thereby leaving Scotland's ‘unwanted guests’ exposed to inhospitality.

The COVID-19 pandemic reveals the inherently universal nature of vulnerability, ours and that of the Other, and underscores the unevenness of our globalised world. As such, it offers a momentous opportunity to transform our relationship with the Other and tackle the world's asymmetry. Yet, the COVID-19 pandemic has not signified a hospitable shift in Scotland as the asylum accommodation ‘crisis’ acutely demonstrates. Rather, the pandemic lays bare the chasm between Scotland's self-depiction and vision as a hospitable host and the reality of asylum seekers’ everyday lives, as the tragic events of June 2020 powerfully show. On 26 June 2020, Badreddin Abadlla Adam was shot dead by police after he stabbed six persons in an incident at the Park Inn hotel in Glasgow city centre. Mr Abadlla Adam and other asylum seekers had been moved by Mears – the asylum accommodation provider – to closed hotels because of the COVID-19 pandemic restrictions (Qureshi et al., Reference Qureshi, Meer, Hill, Meer, Akhtar and Davidson2020). Below we stress that the move took place notwithstanding repeated concerns about the use of hotels for people in the asylum system (Alderson, Reference Alderson2020). This tragedy has exposed deep flaws within the asylum support system.

In 2018, 10 per cent of the UK's asylum population was accommodated in Glasgow, Scotland's sole dispersal area.Footnote ¹⁹ Asylum accommodation is a reserved matter and an integral part of the UK's hostile environment. The UK government's approach to accommodation for asylum seekers reflects its construction of asylum seekers as ‘parasitic guests’. Dispersal is on a no-choice basis – something the UK government's website makes perfectly clear: ‘You cannot choose where you live. It's unlikely you'll get to live in London or south-east England’ (UK Government, 2021). The dispersal policy was never conceived of with asylum seekers’ vulnerability in mind and was never intended to operate as a resource-building mechanism. Asylum policy and legislation construe accommodation as a roof above asylum seekers’ heads; it is not a ‘home’. Asylum accommodation is not about sharing the UK host's space and co-habiting with asylum seekers; it is about enabling survival without ‘taking the risk’ of ‘deparasitising’ the latter's status. Accommodation is temporary and its transient nature is intensified in the case of asylum seekers whose claims have been refused – something that evictions starkly expose. In the summer of 2018, Serco, which had been contracted by the UK Home Office to provide asylum accommodation, adopted a new practice of changing locks – the so-called ‘Move On Protocol’ – which enabled it to evict asylum seekers whom it considered had no continuing entitlement to accommodation without court process. Asylum seekers who have received a negative asylum decision are only eligible for Section 95 support for twenty-one days.Footnote ²⁰ They may apply for Section 4 support if they are destitute and satisfy a range of conditions. They must, inter alia, show that they are taking steps to return to their country of origin as they no longer have the right to remain in the UK.Footnote ²¹ The ‘Move On Protocol’ was unsuccessfully challenged in the Scottish courts. Upholding a first instance decision,Footnote ²² the Inner House of the Court of Session held that eviction without a court order was not unlawful under the common law nor under Articles 3 (prohibition of torture, inhuman or degrading treatment) and 8 (right to respect for private and family life) of the European Convention on Human Rights.Footnote ²³ The Court's reasoning is consonant with the construction of asylum seekers as ‘parasitic guests’. The judgment underscores that ‘[t]he agreement under which [the asylum seeker] occupied the property made clear that her occupancy was temporary only, for the limited duration of the period during which her asylum claim was being assessed’.Footnote ²⁴ It further emphasised that ‘occupancy was precarious, in the absence of any obligation to pay rent’.Footnote ²⁵

Enduring concerns over accommodation standards offer further evidence of asylum seekers’ treatment as ‘parasitic guests’. For example, families should normally be provided with self-contained accommodation (UK Home Office, 2021). Yet, in practice, families with small children can stay in hostel-type accommodation and some lone-parent families may be housed with unrelated families, though nuclear families are normally kept together (Refugee Council, 2021). ‘Asylum accommodation has been repeatedly criticised for failing to provide security, respect for privacy and basic levels of hygiene and safety’ (Refugee Council, 2021). Commenting on asylum accommodation standards, the House of Commons Select Committee on Home Affairs stated that they were ‘hugely disappointed that the Government ha[d] not taken up the Committee's recommendations on improving the standards of accommodation’ (House of Commons, 2018, p.). Consequently, in addition to facing ‘homelessness’ in the sense of being ‘without shelter’, asylum seekers can remain ‘homeless’ in the sense that the nature of the shelter provided does not satisfy the criteria of ‘housing’ and is not likely to be conducive to feelings of ‘home’ (Fox O'Mahony and Sweeney, Reference Fox, Mahony and Sweeney2010, p. 296).

Across the world, the COVID-19 pandemic is rendering us all more vulnerable. Yet this reality has not prompted a reassessment of asylum seekers’ characterisation as ‘parasitic guests’. The pandemic has not been seized upon as a ‘Levinasian moment’ that brings UK hosts closer to their asylum-seeking guests so they feel obliged to take up responsibility and offer shelter. Quite the contrary – the pandemic has dramatically exposed the persisting failings and ensuing inhospitable nature of the UK asylum accommodation system. In Scotland, the decision of the private accommodation provider (Mears) to move asylum seekers with no recourse to public funds from their ‘home’ to unsuitable hotel accommodation exemplifies the UK's asylum accommodation system's unresponsiveness to asylum seekers’ vulnerability. As UK-wide and Scotland-specific public health campaigns placed growing emphasis on the need to socially distance, asylum seekers were moved to accommodation that did not allow for social distancing (Qureshi et al., Reference Qureshi, Meer, Hill, Meer, Akhtar and Davidson2020, pp. 22–24). Furthermore, these ‘en masse’ moves took place without any assessments of asylum seekers’ particular vulnerabilities (Christie and Baillot, Reference Christie and Baillot2020). Dispersals to Glasgow were eventually suspended to assist Mears to source suitable accommodation for asylum seekers in hotels (Bulman, Reference Bulman2020). The fact that private companies running asylum accommodation are only accountable to the UK Home Office, and not to local authorities and other service providers, has been identified as a major problem (Scottish Refugee Council, 2021a).Footnote ²⁶ The fact that the UK government's decision to privatise asylum accommodation in 2010 was not brought about by the need to fix problems, but by its desire to cut the budget of the then United Kingdom Border Agency (Darling, Reference Darling2016, p. 489) explains why privatisation was not accompanied by a rethink of asylum accommodation, including a reassessment of the relationships between local authorities in dispersal areas, private accommodation providers and the UK Home Office. Tellingly, in April 2021, the UK Home Office resumed evictions of refused asylum seekers after a pause of almost one year because of the COVID-19 pandemic (Taylor, Reference Taylor2021). This decision is currently being challenged in the English High Court (Taylor, Reference Taylor2021). Unsurprisingly, the UK and Scotland's failure to ‘grab’ the pandemic as a hospitable catalyst is not peculiar to Scotland and the UK. For example, ‘asylum seekers who were brought to the Australian mainland from offshore detention [centres] for medical treatment’ during the pandemic were placed in crowded hotel accommodation with no opportunities for physical distancing (Shakespeare-Finch et al., Reference Shakespeare-Finch2020, p. 665). Moreover, asylum seekers and refugees on temporary visas were excluded from the Australian government's financial aid package to support people during the COVID-19 pandemic (Shakespeare-Finch et al., Reference Shakespeare-Finch2020, p. 665). Similarly, ‘[t]he German Government's overall management of the pandemic did not consider marginalised groups, such as asylum seekers and refugees’ (Tollarek et al., Reference Tollarek, Bozorgmehr and Spallek2020, p. 3). The same authors observed that ‘[t]these groups were hardly covered by the national pandemic plan, except for a general (and questionable) notion that there might be ‘non-compliance due to cultural differences’ (ibid.). They also pointed out that ‘mass quarantine [of asylum seekers and refugees] in collective accommodation as a response to the COVID-19 pandemic was legally, ethically and epidemiologically highly questionable’ (ibid., p. 4).

The realities of asylum accommodation in Scotland cast doubt on its hospitality and ability to respond to asylum seekers’ vulnerability. It is certainly the case that in the absence of devolved powers over asylum support, and more broadly over the whole asylum process, Scotland can only hope to mitigate the effects of the UK's hostile environment. Whilst recent events paint a bleak picture, it is also true that there have been attempts to make Scotland (more) hospitable. For example, research shows that Glasgow was the most successful dispersal area in overcoming initial hostility towards asylum seekers, through community preparation and information sharing that brought together integration networks, local authority teams and third-sector groups (Darling, Reference Darling2016, p. 493). The Scottish government, with multisectoral support, has called upon the UK government to discharge its duties towards asylum seekers (Campbell, Reference Campbell2019) in line with the hospitable vision set out in the New Scots Strategy – also a multisectoral effort. The Scottish government has also sought to use its devolved powers to expand asylum seekers’ partaking in the redistribution of welfare. For example, all refused asylum seekers in Scotland have access to free NHS secondary health care,Footnote ²⁷ which is not the case in England.Footnote ²⁸ During the COVID-19 pandemic, the Scottish government has provided funding to ensure that all those who are street homeless are accommodated, including refused and destitute asylum seekers (Christie and Baillot, Reference Christie and Baillot2020). This is not to say that Scotland should not be held accountable for the exercise of its devolved powers. However, it remains vital that the UK government responds to the realities yielded by the present constitutional settlement and the asylum-related policies it has devised. Critically, a lack of Home Office direct funding to local authorities and services in recognition of their status as dispersal areas continues to hamper the deployment of a vulnerability-sensitive approach to devolved resilience-building services for asylum seekers in Scotland such as education, support for asylum seekers with community care needs and families who are not eligible for Home Office supportFootnote ²⁹ and support for unaccompanied asylum-seeking children.Footnote ³⁰ In the next section, we explore how our ethical vulnerability analysis can transform Scotland's relationships with asylum seekers so that Scotland can aspire to become a radical hospitable outlier.