To save content items to your account,
please confirm that you agree to abide by our usage policies.
If this is the first time you use this feature, you will be asked to authorise Cambridge Core to connect with your account.
Find out more about saving content to .
To save content items to your Kindle, first ensure no-reply@cambridge.org
is added to your Approved Personal Document E-mail List under your Personal Document Settings
on the Manage Your Content and Devices page of your Amazon account. Then enter the ‘name’ part
of your Kindle email address below.
Find out more about saving to your Kindle.
Note you can select to save to either the @free.kindle.com or @kindle.com variations.
‘@free.kindle.com’ emails are free but can only be saved to your device when it is connected to wi-fi.
‘@kindle.com’ emails can be delivered even when you are not connected to wi-fi, but note that service fees apply.
The promise to end free movement of EU citizens was a trump card for the campaign to leave the European Union. Unlike the economic and sovereignty arguments, the immigration argument was simple and undeniably true: the UK could not control immigration while it remained a member of the EU. Experts on both sides of the referendum debate agreed that leaving the EU would reduce migration. For many voters, that was a pretty compelling argument. Fast forward six years, and migration post-Brexit had hit a record high. Net migration was three times the pre-Brexit level. What happened? Why did EU exit fail so spectacularly to deliver on its clearest promise? This chapter argues that the post-Brexit immigration system broke its promise to reduce migration partly by accident and partly by design. The government made liberal choices on immigration policy and underestimated quite how many migrants would take them up. Hardly any of this was an inevitable consequence of Brexit. In an alternative universe, things could have looked very different.
In Central Asia and the Middle East, no less than eastern Europe, thwarted imperialist drives disrupted older patterns of rule. Germany’s imagined landward imperium of 1917–1918 was matched in 1918–1919 by Britain’s in the Middle East and Central Asia. The resulting turmoil spawned logics of imperial consolidation, anti-colonial hope, and regional state formation shaping later decolonization. If the Versailles precepts of self-determination ended at colonial frontiers, Bolshevik appeals vigorously crossed them, deepening the crisis of colonial order. British, French, and Dutch imperial thinkers responded with “indirect rule,” constitutional tinkering, and colonial development, expressed as “Commonwealth,” “Greater France,” and Dutch “ethical policy.” Boosted by the Comintern, anti-colonial nationalisms built self-confidence and organization.Négritude, a Francophone literary and philosophical movement, became the clearest generalizing departure, matched by Pan-Africanism in Britain’s imperial sphere. By “bringing empire home,” migrations from colonies to the western-European metropole joined the “colonial effect” in binding Europe and its colonies ever more intricately together.
President Trump and his administration have repeatedly threatened to invoke insurrection powers and unleash US military and National Guard members in American cities in response to civil uprisings and alleged interferences with immigration officials’ actions. In so doing, they raise a specter of significant constitutional clashes over the use of these antiquated emergency authorities. To the extent Congress is unwilling to constrain presidential discretion, the US Supreme Court may be called on to clarify the scope and limits of Insurrection Act powers.
Providing pro bono legal services is an important professional obligation that ensures that people who cannot afford representation still realize their rights. Unlike impact litigation, which seeks to overturn unjust laws or create new rights, pro bono direct legal services are not typically seen as oriented toward creating social change. Drawing on longitudinal interviews with thirty-six lawyers and non-lawyer legal volunteers, this article explores how bearing witness became a mechanism that blended pro bono services with social movement-like collective action to transform direct legal services within two liminal legal environments, the U.S.–Mexico border and immigration detention. These activities included (1) asserting and publicizing truth in the face of misconceptions and misinformation so the American public understood what was occurring and demanded policy change, (2) recruiting more volunteers to assist asylum seekers and in turn speak out, and (3) documenting the human impact of immigration laws and policies to ensure future harms would not occur. Because interviewees took part in up to three waves of interviews between 2019 and 2023, I also address the perceived outcomes of these efforts, including that interviewees felt that they increased knowledge and shifted some individuals’ perspectives.
This chapter examines Canadian English from a nationwide point of view, complementing the regional views of the following chapters in this part. It begins with a brief statement of the current demolinguistic status of Canadian English, then reviews the history of English-speaking settlement that led to its establishment, growth and geographic diffusion. This review supports a discussion of the relation between settlement history and the most important linguistic features of modern Canadian English, especially its phonetic and phonological characteristics. A particular focus is on the relative contributions of eighteenth-century American Loyalist settlement and early nineteenth-century British immigration, as well as the later diffusion of those features to Western Canada. Examples of regional variation in vocabulary and pronunciation are then briefly presented, before the chapter concludes with a selective review of previous research on Canadian English.
Recent research documents that many research designs in the social sciences are underpowered: they can detect only extremely large – often implausible – effects. I show that this problem is structural in the workhorse approach to studying the immigration-crime link: regressing changes in aggregate crime rates on exogenous shifts in local immigrant shares. While this design may identify changes in native criminal behavior, I demonstrate that it is largely uninformative regarding the difference in crime propensities between immigrants and natives. Because immigrants typically comprise a small fraction of the population, even large group-level differences are mechanically diluted. I formalize the minimum detectable gap - the smallest immigrant-native crime difference these regressions can reliably distinguish from zero given standard design parameters. Using Monte Carlo simulations calibrated to real-world immigration and crime data, I demonstrate that conventional designs only achieve adequate statistical power with implausibly large crime differentials and extreme immigration shocks.
In the Progressive Era, the standard of living became a social scientific and policy-relevant bureaucratic measurement. As historians have shown, the ostensibly objective statistical metric of consumption challenged a “market-driven conception of wages or income” and rested on normative assumptions about the ideal standard, family roles, and labor relations.1 It was also embedded in a discourse on who could attain it and how. A migrant-knowledge approach to the development of standard of living measurements explores how American social scientists drew these normative contours in relation to their experience and understanding of what they termed the immigration problem, the influx of Southern and Eastern European immigrants who sought to live and work in the United States between the 1880s and 1920s. Migrant knowledge encompasses knowledge both by and about immigrants, drawing attention to immigrant actors who cross state borders, bring cultural baggage along with material belongings, and often maintain ties to their places of origin. This concept assumes that immigrants do not have particular knowledge by virtue of being immigrants; rather, it asks how immigration-related experiences, discourses, and institutions shape modes of knowing and communicating that knowledge. It takes knowledge as embodied practice, influenced by material conditions as well as its own materiality.2 This approach frames the debate on immigration and the standard of living as a mutual engagement of both immigrants and native-born Americans, made tangible through their knowledge practices.
Concerns are rising over far-right support among security forces, given their role in upholding the state’s monopoly on violence. Such support raises fears that far-right ideologies could shape law enforcement practices and undermine democratic norms. Existing explanations often attribute this alignment to authoritarian and law-and-order preferences. Using data from the European Social Survey, this research note examines whether security forces are more likely than the general electorate to vote for far-right parties and identifies the attitudinal drivers of such support. The analysis finds no systematic evidence that security forces vote for far-right parties at higher rates than the broader population. Moreover, immigration attitudes—not law-and-order preferences—emerge as the strongest predictor of far-right voting across both groups. These findings challenge the common view that security forces are uniquely drawn to the far right for authoritarian reasons and underscore the central role of immigration politics in shaping far-right support more broadly.
Scholars of the politics of consumption in the United States have argued that the early twentieth century marked the emergence of a new kind of “economic” or “consumer citizenship” which linked Americans’ political identity with their ability to access and afford mass-produced goods.1 A fuller examination of the participation of immigrants in these economistic visions of citizenship remains to be established. The years surrounding World War I and the 1918 flu pandemic, Max Ehrenfreund has recently suggested, constituted a critical moment when consumption and citizenship became more tightly linked not only through the choice to consume but also to refrain from consumption.2 In this piece, I explore “financial citizenship,” a term I used to describe an alternative form of civic belonging linking affinities for markets and politics.3 Financial citizenship—namely, the public outcry for a more responsive economic system that could provide cash for everyday transactions, efficient access to credit, and a variety of financial instruments for other purposes—was a vision raised by a broad range of demographic groups, from northeastern ironworkers to midwestern farmers to Black wage workers in the urban New South.4
The promise of a full stomach drew many emigrants to the United States. Defending an American standard of living—one that included steak dinners—was also an argument marshaled in favor of immigration restriction. By the turn of the twentieth century, food in the United States had become abundant enough for people to no longer strive for a full belly only. About half of the population was still involved in agriculture, but with a clear trend of fewer people necessary to produce more food.1 Consumers emerged as an important political factor. Government policies and agencies concerned with consumer protection and food production mushroomed, with the Food and Drug Administration forming in 1906. Some of these agencies had opposite goals. For instance, David Fairchild headed the Office of Plant and Seed Introduction (founded 1898), scouring the world for food crops to enrich American agriculture and palates. Meanwhile, at about the same time, the Bureau of Entomology, tasked with the study of insects, became concerned about the introduction of foreign pests, leading to the Plant Quarantine Act of 1912.2
Today’s “democratic ideal,” claimed Columbia University economist E. R. A. Seligman, was nothing more and nothing less than the “socialization of luxury,” the opportunity for everyone to find pleasure and contentment in the world around them. In early twentieth-century America, an era of growing material abundance, democratic life required that “leisure and culture will no longer be the possessions of the favored few” but be available to everyone in the course of daily life. Seligman’s insistence that democracy was as much in the streets as in the voting booth was far from novel, as he surely knew. Seligman lived in New York City, where working-class men and women made the same point every day. They laid claim to the new abundance of American life, an abundance they helped create, each time they put on fancy hats, went to Coney Island, strolled through Central Park, listened to opera, or laughed at vaudeville. Seligman translated their actions into economic prose and made a theoretical, as well as practical, argument for pleasurable consumption as a basis for modern democratic life.1
This article discusses how the state’s failure to respond to the needs of a marginalized community leads to a sense of being undeserving among its members, a sense that significantly shapes their legal consciousness. Focusing on Chinese immigrants’ reluctance to discuss contracts openly and invoke the law to seek redress in Canada, this article challenges the approach of blaming culture for some immigrants’ different perceptions of and relationships with the law in the host country. Based on in-depth interviews and participant observation, this study argues that the host country’s devaluation and non-recognition of foreign credentials, its lack of intervention in predatory practices targeting vulnerable immigrants, and its failure to provide adequate legal resources accessible to immigrants with diverse language and cultural backgrounds, all work in tandem to push Chinese immigrants away from contracts and keep them from turning to law for help in Canada. Drawing on vulnerability theory and legal consciousness scholarship, it develops a multi-level legal consciousness framework to connect micro-level experiences with macro-level forces to understand how individuals who share the same marginalized identities participate in reproducing structural inequalities within their own communities due to state inaction.
In February 1920, Los Angeles County Health Officer J. L. Pomeroy commented on the habits and practices of Asian immigrants:
The Japanese claim to be a cleanly race, and yet inspections made throughout the county of the housing conditions scarcely bear this out. The bath-tub as used on a Japanese farm is an imported affair. One tub of water is heated for the entire family group, which consists of eight or ten people.… Facilities for privacy seem to be lacking, and certainly, from a sanitary standpoint, this cannot be too strongly condemned. The care of the food in the Japanese homes is woefully insanitary. Their methods of cooking are primitive. The women seem to have little knowledge of domestic science … The fact that women work in the fields with their husbands from daylight until dark, undoubtedly accounts for the uncleanly conditions of their homes. Whatever the excuse may be, the average Japanese home in the country is dirty and often filthy…. The background for Americanization therefore seems lacking.1
Contributions to this forum underscore the fact that mass migration during the Progressive Era coincided with the emergence of mass consumption. Progressive Era immigration studies are at the core of the emergent knowledge economy of the age of abundance, centered on an American standard of living that was associated with high wages, affordable goods, more leisure time, and opportunities for material and cultural self-realization. The taxonomies created during the transition to consumer capitalism frequently pathologized immigrants. In their classifications, many Progressive Era protagonists associated immigrants with a low standard of living that manifested itself in unhygienic lifestyles, unhealthy nutrition, and inappropriate consumption. In this reading, categories such as race and ethnicity are part of the construction of the figure of the consumer and the politics of consumption; they reflect modern consumerist subjectivities and structures.
This chapter explains how white supremacy evolved and adapted after the US Civil War and the abolition of slavery across the British Empire. Rather than weakening, white power structures found new ways to maintain racial hierarchies through scientific racism, Social Darwinism, and eugenics. These scientific frameworks provided intellectual justification for continued oppression while appearing objective and dispassionate. The period saw the rise of immigration restrictions, voter suppression, and systematic segregation across English-speaking societies, all designed to preserve white political and economic power. New “race perils” reflected white anxieties about demographic change, while eugenics aimed to protect racial “purity” through sterilization programs and anti-miscegenation laws. Particularly significant was the denial of capital accumulation to nonwhites through housing discrimination, job discrimination, and business restrictions. Although many voices challenged these racist theories and practices as false and cynical, they were consistently overpowered by institutional forces desperate to maintain white supremacy.
The aim of this Element is to explore borders in ancient Egypt – both the territorial and ideological boundaries of the state as well as the divisions such lines draw between 'Egyptians' and 'Others.' Despite the traditional understanding of ancient Egypt as an insular society isolated by its borders, many foreigners settled in Egypt over the course of the longue durée, significantly impacting its culture. After examining the applicability of territorial state borders to the ancient world, the boundaries of ancient Egypt are investigated, questioning how they were defined, when, and by whom. Then a framework is presented for considering the reflexive ontological relationship between borders and immigrants, grappling with how identity is affected by elements like geography, the state, and locality. Finally, case studies are presented that critically examine ancient Egypt's northern, eastern, western and southern 'borders' and the people who crossed them.
When they invested in steamboats, railroads, roads, education, communication routes, and other infrastructure, Feliciana elites advanced the national and global transportation revolution. They used enslaved convict laborers to build railroads and to work on them. Meanwhile, small numbers of immigrants moved there, including German Jews in St. Francisville. They lived alongside free Black residents, a group who also occupied a precarious position. Some free Black people acquired property and exercised limited citizenship rights. This all rested on chattel slavery, and between 1800 and 1860 this region became central to the early republic and cotton production. But in this “Age of Emancipations,” these bondspersons survived, celebrated, and sometimes resisted.
In July 1866 Rachel Robins and Virgil Harrell married. After centuries of commoditized kinship, my grandmother’s grandfather celebrated citizenship by claiming kin. But emancipated people had a freedom vision that exceeded liberal ideology. As in other post-emancipation societies, many wanted land to become smallholders. They elected John Gair and other Black politicians. At great personal cost, they organized, voted, and armed to defend themselves against vigilante forces. But this couple and others learned the limits of liberal inclusion. Emancipation and enfranchisement set a new stage for an old conflict between people who believed in the power of democracy and those committed to white power over all else.
Chapter 4 considers how race and racism were presented in post-war television and film. Much of this chapter focuses on blacking-up practices on television, the success of The Black and White Minstrel Show with white audiences, and its defence by white producers, audiences and the press, when Black audiences in Britain protested against it in 1967 through the Campaign Against Racial Discrimination (CARD). It also traces the post-war life of the empire film content discussed in Chapter 2, when these films were consistently broadcast on both the BBC and ITV before the watershed and at ‘family viewing times’. The chapter also examines the broader enduring popularity of blacking-up practices on screen in the post-war period.