The business of border control: Who really profits from mass deportation plans?
Professor Nando Sigona comments on Donald Trump's mass deportation plans and examines who mass deportations actually benefit.
Professor Nando Sigona comments on Donald Trump's mass deportation plans and examines who mass deportations actually benefit.
President Donald Trump signing executive orders. Credit: The Trump White House, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons.
Donald Trump’s mass deportation promises may face significant implementation challenges, but their announcement alone has benefited a powerful industry built around immigration enforcement and spreads fear among millions of U.S. residents.
Mass deportations are easy to promise but difficult to execute. Even if ethical considerations are not a priority for Trump, his plan faces a monumental challenge: convincing other countries to accept millions of deported individuals. Such agreements often require costly trade-offs and intense diplomatic manoeuvring as we have witnessed in recent weeks following attempts to land military planes in Colombia, Brazil and Mexico.
Returning millions of people to a single country, for example Mexico, would likely destabilize its economy and political system, creating social upheaval that could jeopardize the government in power. Leaders agreeing to such terms might face electoral defeat, making them reluctant to collaborate.
As seen in similar initiatives globally, however, even failed or not fully implemented enforcement policies can serve political purposes, channelling billions of taxpayer money to private contractors while appeasing a political base. Trump’s much-talked-about wall at the border with Mexico is a case in point. For Trump, the spectacle of enforcement matters more than outcomes. In an era of short attention spans, dramatic headlines resonate louder than long-term consequences.
Beyond detention, private contractors profit from transportation, healthcare services, surveillance technology, and legal processing—creating a robust economic incentive to perpetuate and expand enforcement, irrespective of its efficacy or human impact.
The privatized immigration enforcement industry in the U.S. already consists of multibillion-dollar ventures. Companies like GEO Group and CoreCivic, which operate private detention centres, have historically seen their stock prices soar after hardline immigration announcements. These corporations spend millions on lobbying efforts to expand detention and enforcement policies, including supporting Trump’s electoral campaign - and they have already been generously rewarded for it.
Beyond detention, private contractors profit from transportation, healthcare services, surveillance technology, and legal processing—creating a robust economic incentive to perpetuate and expand enforcement, irrespective of its efficacy or human impact.
The UK’s Rwanda plan offers a cautionary example of how immigration policies can become central in the political debate despite practical failure. Despite spending over £318 million and facing persistent legal challenges, the plan resulted in no person being removed from the UK. And yet, it dominated British political discourse for over a year, serving as campaign material and distracting from other pressing issues. In fact, the Labour government just published a new Border Security, Asylum and Immigration Bill, which heavily focuses on being tough on border security.
The spectacularization of immigration enforcement, where dramatic announcements overshadow substantive results, is likely to characterize U.S. deportation efforts. Even partial implementation can achieve political objectives internally and internationally, while funnelling substantial taxpayer funds into political allies and business interests.
The European Union’s efforts to outsource migration control to neighbouring countries in North Africa and further south reveal the unintended consequences of aggressive border policies. In Niger, one of the poorer countries in the world and the higher receiver of development aid per capita, anti-smuggling laws disrupted traditional trade routes, destabilizing entire regions. Tunisia’s EU-backed anti-migration measures sparked diplomatic crises and domestic unrest. Meanwhile, Libya’s EU-supported coast guard operations led to documented human rights abuses and further regional instability.
These examples underscore a key reality: forcing neighbouring countries to accept mass deportations or implement strict border controls often triggers economic and political crises, creating conditions that fuel further migration. Latin American nations, particularly Mexico, are attempting to resist U.S. plans that risk destabilizing their economies or political systems through sudden and large population returns.
But Trump’s highly choreographed strategy leaves little room for these considerations. His deportation plans are designed primarily for domestic political gain—to justify his power grab—and for international impact, projecting a new image of the U.S. as a dominant force in the Americas.
The critical question isn’t just whether mass deportation plans can succeed but who profits from their attempts.
As the U.S. greatly expands deportation efforts, three patterns are likely to emerge: firstly, private contractors will deepen their involvement in immigration enforcement, driving up costs while limiting public accountability. The revolving door between government agencies and private companies will continue shaping policy decisions. Secondly, like the UK’s Rwanda plan, U.S. deportation policies may serve more as political tools than practical solutions. High-profile enforcement actions may satisfy supporters, even if full implementation remains unattainable. Trump will move the goalpost as he goes along. Thirdly, pressuring neighbouring countries to accept deportees will strain diplomatic relations and risk destabilizing regional economies, potentially creating new migration pressures.
Mass deportation plans have an appeal to segments of the electorate because they offer straightforward solutions to complex issues. Evaluating such proposals requires a clear understanding of their true costs—financial, humanitarian, and geopolitical.
The critical question isn’t just whether mass deportation plans can succeed but who profits from their attempts—and at what cost to taxpayers, regional stability, the economy and millions of US residents whose lives and livelihoods are jeopardise for political gains.