The Future of UK Immigration Policy: Party Plans and Political Risks

With immigration rarely out of the news, political leaders will be using Party Conference season to demonstrate why their policies will deliver. Yet how workable are these policies in practice, and how much have they been shaped by electioneering and the desire to gain political ground? In this article, our director Christopher Desira examines the detail behind the rhetoric. 

Immigration is once again at the centre of British politics. Few issues cut across economics, identity, society, and governance with such force, and few are debated with such intensity. Immigration has shaped elections, collapsed flagship policies, and redrawn party lines. The numbers tell one story, yet the political narratives tell another. Symbolism is trumping scale: the image of boats in the Channel commands disproportionate attention, eclipsing the far larger and more complex movement of students, workers, and family.

The 2024 general election reset the debate but did not resolve it. Labour, having promised to restore order and credibility, is now testing whether a blend of managerial competence and tighter rules can satisfy a sceptical public. The Conservatives, in opposition, continue to push deterrence-first rhetoric despite the failures of their own record in office. The Liberal Democrats and Greens argue for more liberal frameworks, while parties in Scotland and Wales connect immigration to questions of sovereignty and economy. Reform UK, though without governing responsibility, has shifted the tone of debate beyond the right, making hard-line promises that are resonant, but practically unworkable.

On 10 September, Sky News hosted a live immigration debate that brought together Labour, Conservative, Liberal Democrat and Reform voices. Each, in their own way, acknowledged that immigration provides benefits, yet all insisted the system requires tighter control. Their differences were mostly in language rather than policy. Reform’s contribution stood out only for its inflammatory rhetoric: talk of Britain being “overrun”, of borders “out of control”, and insinuations of people seeking asylum as threats. It was politics by fear, that went broadly unchallenged.

The debate did not move the conversation forward. Instead, it underscored the stalemate in Britain’s politics of migration: consensus on control, little honesty about need, and precious few willing to set a higher standard.

Beyond the flags, Party conference season now begins as the stage where each party will seek to harden its message, reassure its base, and set the tone for the year ahead. This article examines those evolving roadmaps. It sets party promises against the realities of statistics and public opinion, probing their deliverability, coherence, and political impact. It asks not only whether these policies can work, but whether they are shaping the national conversation as Britain heads into another cycle of political contests and electoral calculation.

At the weekend I was speaking to one of my closest friends, and the conversation turned to immigration. We have polar views on the subject, which makes for spirited debates. He was surprised to learn that the number of people detained and returned from the UK is increasing each year and questioned why this is rarely discussed. His reaction reflects a broader truth: the numbers themselves often play a small role in shaping public perceptions. What dominates instead are the images and narratives, and the sense of “control lost”, even when these represent only a slice of the bigger picture.

The latest estimates put net migration at around 431,000 in 2024, down from the highs of 2022–23 but still above the levels seen a decade ago. Much of this is driven by students and workers on pre-approved legal routes, where chronic shortages and the end of European free movement have created reliance on overseas recruitment. As one care home manager put it to me recently: “Without overseas staff, half my shifts would go unfilled.” This reality rarely features in the headlines or from the mouths of most political leaders, even though it underpins the daily functioning of vital services.

By contrast, people seeking asylum make up a relatively small share of total arrivals, yet they dominate the political conversation. Small boat crossings illustrate this distortion. In 2024, irregular arrivals across the Channel accounted for only a fraction of overall migration, but images became the defining political symbol. For some voters, the boats stand as shorthand for control. Successive governments have therefore poured political capital into deterrence policies, even though their effect on overall migration figures is marginal.

The fiscal story tells another side of the equation. Fiscal forecasts suggest that migration tends to contribute positively to the UK’s public finances, especially when migrants are of working age, employed, and paying taxes. The benefits are not universal – some may contribute less to the short term and retirement – but, overall, the data show that migration, properly managed, is an asset to the economy. Yet this is often overshadowed by more tangible local concerns about housing, schools, and GP surgeries. It is easier to picture a crowded GP waiting room than to imagine the invisible boost to the Treasury’s coffers that inward investors and people with global talent provide.

This gap between numbers and narratives, often ignoring non-fiscal benefits such as culture, values, and art, is the backdrop against which all parties now craft their policies. Labour points to reductions in the backlog but will ultimately be judged on Channel crossings. The Conservatives cling to Rwanda despite its marginal impact on arrivals. Reform UK calls for an immigration “freeze”, even though most arrivals fill essential jobs. Smaller parties argue for safe routes and humane systems, but these rarely cut through against the dominant concern of “control”.

In short, the numbers show migration is high but stable; asylum is significant but not dominant; small boats are symbolic rather than systemic; and the fiscal contribution is broadly positive. Yet in politics, perception carries more weight than statistics. It is Labour, as the party of government, that has the greatest opportunity, and responsibility, to shift this debate.

The 2024 general election reset the terms of the immigration debate, but it did not immediately dominate the national conversation. Public concern was focused more on the cost of living, the NHS, and housing. Immigration remained present but less urgent, with the Rwanda scheme shelved and small boats momentarily less visible.

By summer 2025, the debate had re-emerged. Rising Channel crossings and relentless messaging from Reform UK pulled immigration back into headlines, even as many voters still prioritised other issues. Reform’s focus ensured Labour and the Conservatives were dragged onto terrain they might have preferred to avoid.

Labour, initially keen to lead with competence on the economy and services, has been forced to the forefront on immigration. Its White Paper, the UK–France returns treaty, and the Border Security, Asylum and Immigration Bill were framed as proof of control, but also show a reactive rather than proactive stance.

It remains unclear whether immigration is truly a defining electoral issue, or whether its prominence is amplified by Reform’s framing and media fixation. Polling shows it among the top three public concerns, but usually behind the economy and NHS. The risk for Labour is over-correcting, talking tough when voters may be more concerned with wages, rents, and waiting lists.

Labour entered office pledging to restore credibility after “years of Conservative failure”. Its manifesto struck an awkward balance: presenting Britain as a welcoming nation while offering few explicitly pro-migration policies. Instead, it centred on control, scrapping Rwanda, creating a Border Security Command, and establishing a Returns and Enforcement Unit to fast-track removals and negotiate returns deals.

Since the election, Labour has translated this agenda into a series of reforms anchored in its May 2025 White Paper, framed around “restoring control”. Key measures include:

• repealing the Rwanda Act and disapplying parts of the Illegal Migration Act; 
• reporting an 18% fall in the asylum backlog;
• ratifying a UK–France “one-in, one-out” treaty in August 2025;
• introducing a Border Security, Asylum and Immigration Bill with £100 million in extra enforcement funding, 300 new NCA agents, powers to seize phones from small-boat arrivals, and a statutory 24-week asylum appeals deadline;
• delaying refugee family reunion applications and reforming family migration, including changes to Article 8 of the ECHR; and
• expanding the “deport now, appeal later” framework to 23 countries.

On accommodation, Labour has pledged to end hotel use, replacing hotels with dispersal housing and mass sites. These expansions have been controversial, with warnings of unsuitability and inadequate local resources.

Legal migration has also been tightened. Skilled Worker salary thresholds were raised from £38,700 to £41,700, and family and human rights routes are now under review. Most controversially, refugee family reunion applications were suspended, with expected income and language requirements plus a two-year wait, a move Labour defended as necessary to deter irregular migration, but which refugee groups warned would push vulnerable families towards people smugglers.

The sudden replacement of Yvette Cooper with Shabana Mahmood as Home Secretary, alongside a wider reshuffle of the immigration ministerial team, shows how politically charged this agenda has become. The move followed growing criticism that the Government was not moving ‘hard enough, fast enough’ to deliver on its immigration promises.

Mahmood’s appointment sends a deliberate signal. She is the first Muslim woman to hold the role, and her background allows Labour to project both toughness and compassion. It is a strategy reminiscent of Conservative governments that elevated Priti Patel and Suella Braverman to similar positions, in part to neutralise criticism of harsh policies and the early signals point clearly towards this. The proposals for a national digital identity scheme suggest new enforcement tools, and stringent routes to settlement lengthen precariousness. If the debate and the political pressure from Reform and others, continues to drag parties further to the right, what other “surprises” might follow.

What we do know, Labour’s strategy is two-pronged: prove managerial competence while visibly tightening rules. Yet it risks losing the political narrative; it will never out-right the right. Progress on appeals, removals, and accommodation may matter less than whether Channel crossings decline in the public eye. Politically, the stakes are high: if Labour can show falling arrivals and visible hotel closures by 2027, it consolidates its position; if not, it risks ceding ground to both the Conservatives and Reform UK.

The Conservatives entered the 2024 election doubling down on deterrence. Their manifesto promised routine Rwanda flights, six-month asylum processing, and an end to hotel use. They also proposed a statutory cap on migration with year-on-year reductions, bilateral returns deals, stricter health checks, higher surcharges or compulsory insurance, and removal of student discounts on the Immigration Health Surcharge.

In office, these goals repeatedly failed, fuelling scepticism and pushing voters toward Reform UK. In opposition, the party has recalibrated its tone but not its core message. It continues to press for a statutory migration cap covering work, study, and family visas, opposes Labour’s repeal of the Rwanda Act, and clings to its “stop the boats” mantra. On asylum, it has suggested tightening safe country definitions, expanding fast-track removal processes, and extending detention powers.

Polling pressure is shaping its stance. Reform has drawn support from former Conservative voters, particularly on immigration and law-and-order. The Tories’ strategy is to position themselves as the “authentic” voice on reducing numbers, while accusing Labour of copying their ideas without the will to deliver. Yet the dilemma persists: why vote for “Farage-lite” when the full-fat option exists? Their refusal to commit to leaving the ECHR, instead hinting at trimming its jurisdiction, risks leaving their right flank unsatisfied.

The Conservatives, having built much of their politics around reducing migration, now find themselves in opposition to a Government implementing measures they themselves avoided. Their stance remains rhetorically hardline, but their credibility is undermined by years of record net migration under their watch and their lack of a coherent alternative beyond criticism.

The Liberal Democrats have positioned themselves as the most detailed liberal alternative. Their manifesto promised to scrap the Rwanda and Illegal Migration Acts, create international safe and legal routes, and introduce a humanitarian visa to allow people to travel lawfully and safely in order to seek asylum. They pledged to resettle unaccompanied child refugees, reunite families, improve LGBT+ asylum claims, and lift the work ban after three months. On other migration routes, they proposed a merit-based visa system tied to workforce planning, reintroducing care visas, expanding youth mobility schemes to the EU, automatic settled status for EU citizens, and expanded access to legal aid. 

Since the election, the Lib Dems have sought to push Labour further, forcing a Commons vote on the right to work for people seeking asylum. Their approach resonates in devolved contexts where leaders call for higher migration to offset depopulation. Their challenge is visibility: while their stance is more open than that of the main parties, they struggle to cut through in a debate dominated by Labour, the Conservatives, and Reform.

The Greens remain the most radical voice on immigration. Their manifesto pledged to dismantle the Home Office’s immigration functions, replace them with a Department of Migration, scrap hostile environment policies, introduce safe and legal routes for asylum, and abolish income thresholds for families. They called for abolishing detention, ending No Recourse to Public Funds (NRPF), and restoring the right to work for people seeking asylum. Under newly-elected leader Zack Polanski, they have sharpened these messages, arguing for more visible, unapologetic, honest leadershipto counter the rising politics of fear.

For the SNP, immigration is inseparable from independence. It argues that Scotland’s demographic future depends on higher migration than UK-wide rules allow. Since the election, SNP MPs have backed a bill to devolve immigration powers and have criticised Labour’s Skilled Worker threshold increases as particularly damaging for rural and island communities. At conference, the SNP will frame immigration explicitly as a sovereignty issue.

Plaid Cymru has embedded its “Nation of Sanctuary” vision at the heart of its approach, linking immigration to broader rights and community values. Like the SNP, its policy ambitions are shaped by devolution, and while its stance is progressive, it carries little weight in UK-wide policymaking.

Reform UK has placed immigration at the centre of its identity, presenting a visually accessible manifesto with uncompromising policies. It called for freezing “non-essential” immigration, barring small boat arrivals from asylum, leaving the ECHR, detaining and removing irregular entrants, deporting foreign offenders immediately after prison, and stripping citizenship from serious offenders. It also pledged tighter student rules and 20% higher National Insurance charges for employers hiring foreign workers.

Since the election, Reform has pursued this hard line. It dismissed Labour’s UK–France treaty as “gesture politics” while suggesting that the Royal Navy can freely enter French waters to block boat crossings, and criticised Skilled Worker reforms as insufficient. Its flagship “Operation Restoring Justice” proposed detaining and deporting 600,000 people, before rowing back on plans to remove women and children after backlash. The plan is legally and financially unworkable, but the rhetoric resonates with voters frustrated with the mainstream parties.

Reform UK continues to shape the debate disproportionately to its size, setting the tone on numbers and enforcement. Its influence is visible in both Labour and Conservative rhetoric. Yet the party offers little by way of workable policy, seemingly preferring provocation over practical solutions.

Most recently, Nigel Farage announced that a Reform government would revoke indefinite leave to remain. The idea is neither workable nor credible, and the backlash was immediate, forcing the party to start carving out exceptions, such as excluding EU citizens. It is unlikely ever to survive contact with the electorate. But the danger lies not in Reform governing, but in dragging the entire debate further into extremes.

While Kier Starmer recently condemned Reform’s proposals to scrap settlement as racist and immoral, the realities of Labour’s proposed settlement policies still risk echoing Reform’s rhetoric in softened form, with an emphasis on “we’ll manage better”. This is already visible in proposals for a national, digital-only identity scheme. If framed primarily as an enforcement tool, such a scheme would replicate the failures of the hostile environment, embedding suspicion and bureaucracy. Digital-only systems, such as the eVisa, have already faced data errors, outages, and complexities of access, leaving people unable to prove their rights.

By contrast, if designed as a genuine physical identifier, consolidating other aspects of life verifications such as driving licences, immigration status, and National Insurance into one secure card, such a system has the potential to reduce discrimination, uncertainty, and bureaucracy. It could particularly benefit EU citizens, who have long demanded physical proof of their status.

This is the choice Labour faces. It can mirror Reform’s narrative of control, or it can use moments like these to denounce cruelty and impracticality, and step decisively into the pro-migrant space with policies rooted in inclusion, clarity, and honesty.

The immigration debate is not static. Public opinion, polling dynamics, and the credibility of delivery all shape how the issue will evolve in the year ahead. Polling consistently shows immigration among the top issues of concern, alongside the NHS and the economy. But what voters mean by “immigration” is often narrower: for many, it is shorthand for Channel crossings, visible pressure on local services, and a solution to economic decline.

Labour’s reduction in the asylum backlog and its UK–France treaty will matter little unless boat arrivals fall. For the Conservatives, credibility is the obstacle: having failed to deliver Rwanda, they now find their rhetoric undercut by their own record. Reform UK has the advantage of being untested; its uncompromising stance resonates with frustrated voters, even if unworkable and unpalatable in practice. The smaller parties remain distinctive, but risk marginalisation in a debate still shaped by control and deterrence.

In the next 12 months, Labour’s risks and opportunities are clearest. Its new Border Security Bill and appeals reforms give it tools to claim competence, but unless small boat arrivals fall and hotels close, its credibility will remain fragile. The Conservatives will attack Labour as adopting Tory policies without conviction, while Reform will dismiss Labour’s reforms as “gesture politics”, and the smaller parties will criticise Labour for sacrificing fairness and rights to reinforce deterrence.

Labour’s greatest weakness is what it does not say. Nowhere in its narrative does it openly acknowledge that Britain needs immigration, in health and care, in universities, in sustaining growth, tax revenues, culture, and community. By framing the debate only in terms of control and reduction, Labour fights on ground where Reform UK will always outbid it, while Jeremy Corbyn’s new party outmanoeuvres it. Unless Labour is willing to change the story, to argue that migration is necessary, beneficial, and manageable, it risks being trapped in a contest it cannot win.

The risk is that this cycle produces only escalating rhetoric, not workable policy. If every election becomes a contest to sound tougher than the last, immigration turns into a permanent wedge issue, with space for nuance, compassion, or pragmatism squeezed out.

Breaking out of that cycle requires structural change on multiple fronts. Spain’s recent immigration reforms offer a compelling alternative model: in November 2024, Spain approved comprehensive reforms seeking to regularise approximately 300,000 undocumented immigrants annually until 2027, explicitly employing migration as a development strategy to sustain economic growth, rather than focusing on deterrence. While Britain pours resources into symbolic boat-stopping policies, Spain has created legal pathways, improved integration support, and strengthened migrant workers’ rights, acknowledging economic reality rather than fighting it.

For the UK, similar structural reforms would require more safe and legal routes for people seeking asylum, honest workforce planning that acknowledges where Britain needs migration, and regional flexibility recognising different demographic needs. Politically, proportional representation would force coalition-building rather than immigration bidding wars, while mandatory voting would bring disengaged voters into play. Together, these reforms, structural, electoral, and policy, would create space for immigration to be managed as a governance question rather than a permanent culture war battleground.

Immigration in the UK remains a debate defined less by numbers than by narratives. Net migration figures, asylum statistics, and fiscal contributions tell one story: a country that needs migrants to staff its health service, support its economy, and balance its demographics, while managing a relatively small but highly politicised asylum caseload. Yet the politics tell another story, one dominated by Channel crossings, hotels, and promises of deterrence.

Each party has carved out its own roadmap. Labour emphasises managerial competence while tightening rules, though it risks fighting on terrain where Reform will always outbid it. The Conservatives remain committed to deterrence despite delivery failures. Reform, unconstrained by governing responsibility, continues to shift the centre of gravity rightward with uncompromising and dangerous rhetoric. Liberal Democrats and Greens advocate humane alternatives but struggle to make them sound electorally viable. The SNP and Plaid embed immigration in constitutional projects.

What unites them all is a failure to articulate openly that Britain needs immigration, that immigration sustains hospitals and care homes, drives economic growth, creates families, communities, opportunities, and carries with it international and historical obligations to protect others. Without that honesty, expressed consistently and clearly, the danger is clear: an endless cycle of escalation leading to violence. 

The UK is at a crossroads. If it continues down the path of symbolic deterrence, it risks sliding towards a Trump-style politics of division and hostility. If it chooses honesty, pragmatism, and structural reform, it could begin to move immigration out of the culture war and into the realm of compassion and responsible governance. The numbers demand nothing less, and the future of political stability may depend on it.