Think about movement among U.S. states—Americans who cross state borders to visit relatives at Thanksgiving, for work opportunities, to experience Broadway or New Orleans at Mardi Gras, or to see the Grand Canyon and the redwood forests. This movement of people, irrespective of creed or class, is not generally viewed as a problem but rather as an activity that benefits both those moving and the nation. Indeed, we cast a cold eye on historical attempts to stop interstate movement—limiting travel of Black Americans, free and enslaved, or imposing state barriers to prevent entry of persons fleeing the Dust Bowl. This land was made for you and me.

Why, then, is international migration viewed as a “problem” in the Global North, and especially now in the United States? When people cross international borders to visit relatives, take a new job, experience the diverse cultures and natural wonders of the world, why do we erect walls and visa requirements? Our political discourse has developed well-worn answers: migrants fail to honor our values and traditions, speak different languages, take jobs from citizens, commit crimes. For those on the right, controlling immigration is a matter of national and cultural survival; on the left, it’s a matter of protecting domestic workers and an already overburdened welfare state.

In her bold and brilliant reflection, Lea Ypi asks for a fundamental rethinking of the terms of the debate. The real problem, she argues, is not “conflict between cultures” but “the political and economic injustices perpetrated by our globalized world.” I agree that a focus on involuntary migration helps us see the structures that are a primary cause of movement across borders—and that the very states now declaring migration a “problem” are in fact central to the cause of the migration.

But I would not want that insight to make us think that all international migration—or even most of it—is caused by political and economic injustices. Hundreds of millions of people cross international borders each year for purposes of tourism, education, and family unification. And many migrants who leave their home states do so not out of desperation but out of a desire to find improved opportunities for work, send home remittances, live nearer to loved ones—in other words, for the same reasons that Americans move among states in the United States. I assume that this kind of movement would continue in a world without the injustices that are of Ypi’s concern. The point—and this I think is consistent with Ypi’s argument—is that that kind of movement would not be seen as problematic. That is, a just world would not mean a world without migration; it would mean a world where, to use the UN’s words, migration is “a choice, not a necessity.”

Ypi notes that while global migration has increased slightly in recent years, the vast majority of the world’s population stays home (or moves within their countries of origin). Some immobility is due to rules and practices that prevent international movement (border police and passport requirements), but more often it reflects a preference of human beings to remain in their place of habitual residence—for reasons of history, family, culture, language, and the like. Ypi sees involuntary migration as evidence (or proof) of injustices harsh enough to overcome these strong ties to home. One might take this analysis one step further: positing a human right not to be displaced—or, stated more positively, a right to remain. This could provide an avenue for legal challenges to the global system that produces forced migration. This argument has had some success in domestic and regional tribunals in cases challenging state failures to take action against climate change.

What follows from Ypi’s argument that migration is a result of global forces that compel abandonment of one’s home and create an exploitable (and often rightless) class of workers, all to the advantage of those who, with power and resources, control the levers of global capitalism? Ypi suggests attacking the problem at its source—establishing cross-border solidarities that challenge practices and narratives of exclusion that divide the working class. There may be other strategies also worth pursuing to hold accountable those responsible for the harms that cause and accompany involuntary migration. For forced migration due to the effects of climate change, for example, a movement for reparations would seek remedies from states and corporations contributing to increased levels of CO2 emissions. (The Loss and Damage Fund, established at the 2022 UN Climate Change Conference, provides a start.) Or persons pushed from their homes could make demands for migration and admission to the offending states.

Both these proposals see the movement of migrants not as a “problem” but rather, as Ypi argues, as a symptom of global injustices that drive people from their homes. It is by acting to remedy those injustices—rather than by building walls—that migration can be a choice, not a necessity.