Paris Gourtsoyannis: UK should see migration differently

A preserved segment of the Berlin Wall. Most Berliners still recall the elation of being able to cross that barrier when it finally fell. Picture: Getty Images

Some cities wear their history lightly. Berlin isn’t one of them. The streets of the German capital still bear witness to more than seventy years of its painful past. A generation on from reunification and there is scaffolding around every corner as the city works to reclaiming its scars.

Austere former Nazi ministries are being gutted and repurposed. The 500-year-old Hohenzollern palace, bombed out in the war and bulldozed by the East German regime, is rising again as the home of a new national museum.

Most prominently of all, the 100 metre-wide ‘death strip’ of no-man’s land that divided Berlin is still being filled in with corporate headquarters, apartment blocks and concert halls.

Memorials to the past are not discreet and tasteful, but heart-stoppingly abrupt. Where the Gestapo headquarters once stood, an empty lot hosts a chilling outdoor exhibit documenting the descent into Nazi terror. Next to the Reichstag, crosses bear the names of those shot dead trying to escape over the wall to freedom.

Most Berliners still remember their cars being scoured at border checkpoints and East German soldiers guarding underground platforms, as trains from the west flash past without stopping, are still recent. Most can also remember the elation of finally being able to cross that barrier freely and without danger - among them a young chemist called Angela Merkel.

The reason this matters is that for many in Germany, and across large parts of Europe, that freedom has a deeper significance than it might have to the crowds of British tourists I joined in Berlin over Easter weekend.

When Theresa May unveiled her blueprint for Brexit, it had an admirable realism and respect at its heart. She accepted that the EU wouldn’t compromise on its core values, so if Britain refused to accept the free movement of people and no longer wanted to submit to the jurisdiction of European courts, then there was no use asking.

Since then, however, ministers have repeatedly betrayed fundamental misunderstandings about Europe that raise questions about the success of the UK’s future outside the EU.

The latest of these comes in the shape of plans for a so-called ‘barista visa’ to ensure that high-street coffee shops and restaurants continue to enjoy a flow of migrant labour after Brexit.

With low unemployment and few British youngsters interested in waiting tables, hospitality is one of several industries issuing dire warnings about its future workforce, so the assumptions being made by the government are cause for concern.

Ministers are reportedly considering expanding the Youth Mobility Scheme, currently open to citizens of a handful of countries including Canada, Australia and New Zealand. It isn’t limited to coffee shop workers, although applicants have to be between 18 and 30, so it is used by a relatively small number of people at the start of their working lives. Just 42,000 used it last year.

Applicants must have savings worth £1,890 to apply, and must pay another £235 to do so. Successful applicants also have to pay a surcharge for access to the NHS, and crucially are denied benefits. The term is strictly inflexible - once the two years are up, they cannot be extended.

Everything about it reduces migration to the fulfillment of an economic need. There’s little scope for career advancement, you can’t settle, you can’t have a relationship, you can’t start any meaningful course of study, and if you don’t like your job or your employer exploits you, you’ll most likely have to go home because you aren’t entitled to support from the state despite the taxes you’ll pay.

For European youth used to the possibility of building life across borders rather than simply selling their labour, it doesn’t sound that appealing. The other problem with the plan is its focus. There is a popular assumption that the UK needs European citizens from poorer EU countries to pick its fruit, unblock its drains and pour its coffee.

The more important question is what will happen to the EU citizens who are right now designing its software, building its mobile apps and websites, and working in its research laboratories.

It’s true that the largest cohorts of EEA workers in the UK do low-skilled or manual jobs, but overall, research shows that on average EU workers are better educated than their British peers, and fill a wide range of roles in professional occupations.

Those workers are better paid and more mobile than their fellow nationals working at the coffee stand in the office atrium. They make up a smaller proportion of the workforce but play a far more important role in the UK economy, and one that will be much harder to fill after Brexit. And yet no-one is offering a solution for them - because it will be far more difficult to design one. The UK government’s preferred option of a sector-by-sector opt-in to free movement was rejected by Donald Tusk.

If the UK won’t make an effort to keep them, European governments would be happy to welcome their most talented citizens home. Speaking to journalists last week, the Polish ambassador to the UK said his government was actively seeking to lure entrepreneurs home with promises of business support and reduced bureaucracy. Polish ministers are now making monthly visits to London to consult with businesses and get their views. While these aren’t being described as poaching expeditions, the subtext is clear.

As others including the New Statesman’s Stephen Bush have noted, the government’s plans lay bare conflicting objectives as it tries to both attract and repel migrants after Brexit. It can’t do both, and on a net basis a barista visa will probably only achieve the latter. Ministers will need to see migration less as the movement of beans on a counting board, and more as the fulfilment of human potential, if it wants to ensure a healthy workforce after Brexit.