Anecdotal Insights drawn from small-group and one-on-one conversations with those who once arrived as newcomers to Canada reveal a recurring sentiment: that the “calibre” and “competence” of more recent immigrants have noticeably diminished – and that public policies across all levels of government – particularly at the federal level – as well as the systems-based gaps and loopholes that have emerged as a result, are contributing to this perceived decline.
This perception has evolved into a form of informal psychological gatekeeping, in which “older” immigrants assess and critique new arrivals against the admission thresholds and benchmarks they themselves had to meet. The validity of these perceptions was weighed against empirical evidence, policy literature, and reliable data – sometimes supported by the research, and at other times contradicted or nuanced by it. Whether these perceptions stem from facts, lived experience, ongoing affordability challenges, economic unease writ large, receding public trust in government institutions, or social media echo chambers – amplified by both misinformation and disinformation – remains a salient and more difficult question to answer.
Over the past six months, I made a deliberate effort to actively listen to and reflect on the viewpoints of immigrants in my community – specifically, those who arrived in Canada between the as official federal policy in the 1970s and the election of former Prime Minister Justin Trudeau in 2015. With my Bangladeshi roots, I had the opportunity to engage predominantly with Bangladeshi-Canadians, as well as with other diasporic members from South Asia. These individuals mostly arrived as international students or economic migrants and are now firmly established as working professionals or entrepreneurs. Many of them have become parents and even grandparents, fulfilled their dream of purchasing a suburban home, and are often more connected to the pace and pulse of Canadian life than to the countries they left behind.
“Instigate” may not be the right word, but I strategically nudged family, friends, and peers – men and women, boys and girls – from immigrant backgrounds to speak frankly. These conversations unfolded during Eid dinners, Bengali New Year gatherings, in a WhatsApp group for the cricket team I play with, during park excursions, and around the time of 䲹Բ岹’s most recent federal election. Some took place in small group settings, others were one-on-one, and they occurred both face-to-face and through messaging apps. In total, approximately 50 individuals were engaged. While the tone and setting varied, the conversations were consistently guided by three thematic areas.
Interviewees were asked how their views on the immigration system had changed since their arrival. They were also prompted to reflect on the expanded use of humanitarian pathways, particularly those available to refugees and asylum claimants. Finally, they were encouraged to share perspectives on what federal immigration policy should prioritize going forward. These were not standardized survey questions and were not always posed verbatim, but they served as a flexible framework to steer discussion and allow for comparability across conversations.
The goal was to draw out immigrant views on immigration at a time when anxieties around the system are growing and an increasing number of immigrants themselves are , embracing anti-newcomer rhetoric. The people I spoke with were not only reflecting on their past – they were evaluating a system they once navigated and in which they are now invested as established residents. It should surprise no one that they were opinionated on the subject.
Humanitarian and International Student Pathways Emerge as Points of Contention
Several themes arose from these conversations. Foremost among them was the perception that the “character” and “quality” of immigrants coming to Canada from different parts of the world – particularly from South Asia – have worsened in recent years, a view that visibly angered many of these “older” newcomers, if one were to describe them that way. A majority of those I spoke to expressed concern that a subset of recent arrivals are “misusing” and “exploiting” 䲹Բ岹’s liberalised humanitarian pathways – mainly the asylum and refugee streams – to bypass regulated immigration processes. In doing so, they are seen as adding more fiscal pressure to already strained social safety nets.
The suggestion was that once a humanitarian claim is submitted to the relevant authorities, the lengthy delay caused by judicial backlogs – including preliminary assessments, hearings, appeals, and final decisions – allows claimants to work, settle, and eventually become permanent residents and citizens, even if they may not have qualified through standard immigration channels. In some cases, the inability to secure employment renders them fully dependent on government assistance – reinforcing the perception that they are “freeloaders.” The idea, as expressed, was that some are being unfairly “rewarded” for not following the “proper” route and for avoiding intense vetting.
The idea that asylum seekers are deliberately taking advantage of 䲹Բ岹’s immigration system often stems from what people can visibly observe – especially the fact that many claimants remain in the country for extended periods while their . However, this perception overstates the reality. These long wait times are by administrative delays and backlogs in the refugee determination system, taken by the claimants themselves. Although some people assume that asylum seekers receive generous government support during this time, multiple independent studies have shown that their access to public services is . Most for long-term benefits and face obstacles to employment, healthcare, and housing. In practice, many on low-wage or informal work while waiting for a decision. Public frustration is understandable, but it misattributes system-level delays to individual intent, underpinning a narrative that is not supported by reliable data.
Another common theme focused on one of 䲹Բ岹’s major economic drivers: its post-secondary education system. The concern was not directed at those attending universities, but rather at the of private colleges, especially in Ontario – often referred to as “” or “”. Some of these institutions have appeared to function more as immigration loopholes than as credible centres of learning. Enrolment is often superficial. Attendance is inconsistent. Legal status is maintained through technicalities.
These concerns were voiced across a range of communities – not only Bangladeshis but also immigrants from India, Pakistan, and Sri Lanka. These concerns were consistent with from the Office of the Auditor General of Ontario. The Auditor General’s 2024 value-for-money audit of Ontario’s international student system identified oversight gaps in how public-private college partnerships operate. It flagged the growing use of international enrolment streams to facilitate immigration access rather than meet educational standards and noted weak regulatory controls over third-party recruiters and minimal in-person instruction in some institutions.
The discomfort was not rooted in resentment – it stemmed from a belief that the rules are being altered or sidelined in real time, and that the integrity of a system once seen as needs-based and reasonable is now in question. Most of those expressing this view had followed formal immigration streams – such as Express Entry and provincial nomination programmes – to secure permanent residency and citizenship. They had waited patiently, learned or improved their English or French, paid tuition in the case of international students, worked according to government-defined requirements, submitted paperwork, completed the full process, and ultimately became citizens – a milestone they celebrated. Now they worry that the infrastructure they placed their faith in is not functioning as it should. What I encountered was not hostility – it was unease. The concern was not with immigration itself but with the kind and socio-economic “value “of new arrivals and the robustness of the systems meant to manage them.
I pushed back – offering statistics and context. Many sectors of the economy – whether by design or by default – on immigrant labour in roles that are difficult, poorly compensated, and often undervalued. Sectors such as retail, food services and delivery, personal support work, ride-sharing, taxi operations, and construction are among the most visibly . Labour shortages in these sectors are acute. Statistics 䲹Բ岹’s confirmed that even as overall vacancies decline, frontline roles in health care, accommodation and food services, and trades remain unfilled at rates well above the pan-Canadian average. Employers are not just struggling to hire – they are unable to retain domestic workers in these roles over time, which has left immigrant labour as the of workforce stability.
Some feared that newer immigrants were “taking jobs” from Canadians. The reality is more sobering – these are not jobs being taken. They are jobs others, including Canadian-born workers, are to fill to the extent required – resulting in many newcomers, who are overqualified for lower-skilled work, ending up in such roles instead of the higher-skilled positions they are academically or professionally trained for. More than anything, that reflects 䲹Բ岹’s inability – or incapacity – to adequately promote, train, recruit, and retain domestic labour in certain sectors, especially within the country’s primary and secondary industries.
䲹Բ岹’s compounds the challenge, as do the shifting labour preferences of younger generations – particularly Gen Z – regarding the nature of work they are willing to pursue. This generational shift has contributed to ongoing shortages in sectors like long-term care, food services, and manufacturing, as a of Canadian workers aged 18 to 29 found most young people actively avoid jobs involving physical labour, rigid schedules, or limited advancement – even when those jobs offer stable income and benefits.
Assimilation Becomes a Proxy for Worth in Intra-Immigrant Hierarchies
There was also heated and never-ending debate among the interviewees I spoke to about whom Canada chooses to accept. Some questioned why Canada had taken in “so many” Ukrainians while “so few” from Gaza. Few knew how many had actually arrived through specialised humanitarian streams – whether from Ukraine or Gaza. Others dismissed such distinctions entirely, arguing it made no difference whether the claimants were from Ukraine, Gaza, or another crisis-affected country like Sudan – Canada should halt admitting people from war-torn societies altogether. These views overlooked 䲹Բ岹’s , which require, at a minimum, that all asylum, refugee, or humanitarian claims – writ large – be processed fully, fairly, and transparently.
They also revealed the extent to which geopolitics – particularly unresolved conflicts in regions of origin – can subtly influence how immigrants perceive one another. Canada prides itself on being a mosaic. Diverse communities live here in relative harmony. Yet beneath that surface coexistence lies a complex layering of political memory, ethnic identity, and historical experience. Diaspora groups often carry with them not just cultural traditions, but also divergent perspectives informed by past conflicts.
The tensions pro-separatist Punjabi and nationalist Indian communities, or the public divides pro-Israeli and pro-Palestinian demonstrators, zero in on how global divisions can spill into domestic conversations. These geopolitical inheritances do not always result in overt antagonism, but they do influence how different diasporic groups interpret immigration priorities – and, at times, how they assess who belongs and under what terms. This selective gatekeeping reflects what scholars describe as – wherein diaspora groups engage Canadian institutional channels, such as federal refugee sponsorship programs, municipal commemorations, or nonprofit partnerships, to advance agendas linked to their countries of origin, often operating independently of mainstream integration institutions.
Conversations often circled back to Indians. Brampton in Ontario and Surrey in British Columbia were mentioned repeatedly – and generally in a negative light. Speeding, theft, and a sense that the rule of law was deteriorating in these communities came up frequently, with particular emphasis on the perceived rise in lawlessness and criminality. This perception was partly supported by actual increases in certain crime categories – including vehicle theft and assaults, which have risen noticeably in and in recent years compared to pre-pandemic levels – but more often, interviewees cited informal indicators like disregard for traffic rules, overcrowded housing, or non-English signage as signs that civic order was fraying.
Tim Hortons surfaced repeatedly – not as a commercial brand, but as a cultural flashpoint. For some, the visible concentration of South Asian immigrant workers at these outlets symbolized a perceived shift in the character of public-facing integration. What was once imagined as a neutral civic space – where linguistic fluency and cultural familiarity served as unspoken norms – now appeared, to some, as a site where those expectations were receding. The concern was not with cultural expression itself, but with the sense that entities once seen as shared reference points of “Canadian identity” were becoming fragmented, giving way to a more segmented experience of belonging.
Some expressed irritation at outlets where English is rarely spoken or where Bollywood music plays from the kitchen. Complaints also surfaced about noisy weddings, busy street festivals, and obvious “nonconformity.” Even some Indian immigrants voiced concern that their image was being diluted by certain members of their own diaspora. What struck me most was not the criticism, but who was making it: immigrants themselves, often from the same age group and region, drawing lines between those they see as deserving and those they do not. It did not come across as racism per se. It sounded more like a claim to societal status.
What I observed was a form of gatekeeping based on assimilation. Immigrants who had done well were now using their success to set boundaries, distancing themselves from newer arrivals. Social identity theory offers a helpful explanation. As social psychologist Michael Hogg outlines in his on social identity theory, individuals protect their group status by drawing symbolic boundaries – particularly when their inclusion in the broader societal group feels partial or precarious. People identify with groups, find value in that belonging, and defend it from perceived . Immigrants who see themselves as “model citizens” often treat what they perceive as less assimilated newcomers, even from similar backgrounds, as risks to their own social standing. The same applies to cultural acceptance. Those who feel partially included in “Canadian society” sometimes turn around and judge others in order to prove they belong.
This anxiety is sharpened by feelings of insecurity. People who have experienced even slight upward mobility fear that their gains are fragile. They worry that a new wave of migrants will damage their place in society or that they will be associated with newcomers whose behaviour is seen as problematic. They attempt to set themselves apart, to draw protective lines. Sociologists Alejandro Portes and Min Zhou have observed similar patterns in their on segmented assimilation, where immigrants who have experienced upward mobility may seek to establish social distance from more recently arrived community members, in part to protect their perceived integration and societal position. In a climate that rewards grievance, these fears go beyond the emotional. They have political consequences. Immigration debates today have moved beyond insiders versus outsiders. They also divide immigrants from one another – by how they arrived, how well they speak, and how easily they fit in.
Many of the loudest voices now expressing concern were themselves beneficiaries of the very “openness” they now question. Their success was aided, in part, by the “generosity” of 䲹Բ岹’s overall immigration architecture – but equally by the country’s need for their labour, skills, and demographic contribution. Their discomfort, however, is not without basis. It points to public policy systems under significant stress. The perception – one supported by recent data showing population growth by record immigration and housing completions far short of affordability targets – is that in major cities, population growth is outpacing the expansion of affordable housing, health-care access, and essential public infrastructure.
Public concern is now evident in polling conducted by Immigration, Refugees, and Citizenship Canada in 2025, that 54 percent of Canadians believe immigration levels are too high – often citing broader system pressures, such as housing shortages, health-care wait times, and infrastructure strain, as justification. Public trust in government institutions is . Waitlists for a range of public services are . Service levels are .
Support among immigrants for stricter international student regulations is also growing. A recent , found that two-thirds of immigrant respondents – especially those who have lived in Canada for more than six years – now back tougher rules. This shift marks a from earlier decades, when immigrants in the Greater Toronto Area were far more likely to support pro-immigration policies and vote for the Liberal or New Democratic Party. Today, however, immigrant voters in the region are increasingly aligning with right-leaning positions, according to a by the University of Toronto’s School of Cities.
Public Policy Systems Are Under Strain but They Have Certainly Not Collapsed
A disproportionate majority of immigrants – whether international students, economic migrants, or asylum seekers – contribute far more to Canada than they make use of in government-funded services. This is evident in linked administrative datasets that track public program access across immigration categories. For example, Immigration, Refugees, and Citizenship 䲹Բ岹’s found that fewer than one in five newcomers in the economic stream accessed formal settlement services in their year of arrival – a figure that challenges common assumptions about overuse and dependency.
On the other hand, in 2022, international students approximately $37.3 billion into the Canadian economy, supported over 361,000 jobs, and generated $7.4 billion in tax revenue, and contributed 1.2 percent of 䲹Բ岹’s gross domestic product. While precise comparisons are limited, these figures strongly suggest that, on a per capita basis, international students contribute much more to the country than they draw from government-funded services. Immigration is not the crisis. Rather, it is the bedrock via which Canada continues to function as a . Still, in moments of pressure, facts struggle to compete with fiction. The crisis lies in mismanagement and in a shared failure to confront “bad actors” through public policy instruments and regulatory levers.
When conversations shifted to concerns about abuse of the immigration system – whether through asylum claims or international education pathways – I eventually offered a point that many came to accept. The primary issue is not the migrant seeking safety or opportunity. The concern rests with the – immigration consultants, education agents, and recruitment firms – some of whom profit from selling . A subset of “bad actors” from these groups operate both in Canada and in countries of origin – from Bangladesh to India – persuading vulnerable families and ambitious young people to part with life savings in pursuit of a future that often bears little resemblance to the hefty promises made. These are the true exploiters, not the individuals boarding the planes. And once those newcomers arrive, they are frequently unsupported and left to navigate an intimidating environment on their own.
This dynamic is not limited to a single immigration stream. It is now documented across all three primary entry pathways into Canada: the economic class (including temporary foreign worker permits and pathways to permanent residency), the student visa system, and the humanitarian stream for asylum seekers. The identified consistent concerns across these pathways. In the economic stream, employer-specific work permits were found to increase the risk of exploitation and limit worker mobility. In the student stream, the report highlighted the role of education agents who operate without regulation and often provide misleading or incomplete information to prospective students. In the asylum stream, members of the committee noted that unauthorized or “ghost consultants” continue to advise claimants without legal authority, undermining the integrity of the system.
My message is simple: resist the temptation to view newcomers as a single, monolithic group. See them as they are – individuals with different histories, ambitions, capacities, and levels of privilege. Yes, the system is being abused by some – but the appropriate response is to hold accountable those who exploit others, not those who are being exploited. Canada knows the direction it must take: improve alignment between immigration policy and labour market needs, and institutionalise coordination between municipal, provincial, and federal governments – particularly on refugee and asylum issues. Call it a “Team Canada” approach, if we must. That alignment must account for both 䲹Բ岹’s labour market needs and its international humanitarian commitments.
As of September 2024, the Immigration and Refugee Board had 249,857 . Human rights advocates for urgent staffing increases and triage-based reforms to ensure protection decisions are delivered in a timely, rights-based manner. On immigration more broadly, Canada needs to move toward a reformed system modelled more closely on – one that matches inflows to workforce demand and, in parallel, the processing of humanitarian claims by investing in additional judicial capacity. So long as those claims are delayed, all orders of government will struggle both to support those in legitimate need and to deter those who misuse the system.
In ٰܲ’s case, its 2022–2023 Migration Program approximately 73 percent of permanent residency places to the Skill stream, reflecting a deliberate emphasis on economic migration. Australia also labour market data published by Jobs and Skills Australia to inform annual planning and occupational ceilings, aligning immigration with national workforce needs. Canada, while similarly prioritizing economic migration through its Express Entry system and , does not currently employ a real-time recalibration model that ties occupational intake directly to short-term labour market data.
Immigrants – like all Canadians – exist across a spectrum: from highly educated professionals to low-wage frontline workers, from political refugees to opportunistic actors. If Canadians allow the few – the opportunistic actors – to define the many, the country risks losing the very values that fortify it. Since its inception, Canada has never been isolationist – in spirit or in practice. And as global instability deepens, the number of humanitarian claimants to a country like Canada – given its geography and its long-standing tradition of offering sanctuary in times of crisis – will almost certainly rise.
The challenge, then, is not whether Canada can remain “open” – it must – but whether its institutions can remain sturdy and efficient enough to uphold a durable social contract between residents, and between residents and the state, that can stand the test of time. The stability referred to here is institutional. anticipates 673,650 temporary resident arrivals (including workers and students) layered on top of over 395,000 permanent residents.
Processing and support systems to be scaled to meet the projected volume of arrivals, raising the likelihood of delays for newcomers and growing skepticism about Ottawa’s ability to manage immigration effectively. 䲹Բ岹’s commitment to high immigration levels depends not only on policy intent but on the practical capacity of institutions to deliver timely and equitable services. Without corresponding investments in application processing, housing and settlement infrastructure, and coordination across different orders of governments, high intake volumes may strain the social contract. A failure to expand institutional capacity in step with admissions targets will result in uneven integration experiences and increase disparities in how immigration is understood and felt across regions and communities.
Immigration is part and parcel of the soul of this country, central to what makes it a truly special and uniquely heterogeneous place – a grand experiment that has, in large part, succeeded. Yet when public systems are under strain, they often redirect public frustration toward immigrants – fuelling calls to close domestic borders, send people back, or resort to what societies have long done in difficult times – especially during economic crises: blame the newcomer. One hopes, then, that Canadians today – and yes, “older” immigrants – can respond with greater moral clarity than societies in previous eras, resisting the to dehumanize new immigrants as scapegoats for all the major problems they face, and instead channeling criticism where it rightfully belongs.
MPP'23 is a Policy Development Officer with the City of Toronto. He is a public policy columnist with over 140 published articles in Canadian and Bangladeshi media outlets and policy publications, including The Globe and Mail, The Hill Times, Policy Options, Policy Magazine, The Line, The Daily Star, The Business Standard and The Dhaka Tribune. Aftab holds a Master of Public Policy from the Max Bell School at 91ֱ and an Honours Bachelor of Arts in Economics and International Relations from the University of Toronto. He can be reached at mir.ahmed [at] mail.mcgill.ca. The views expressed are his own and are not affiliated with any institution, organization or platform associated with him.
