Classic example of activist academic arguments, conflating previous race-based criteria with more objective age, language and education criteria, assuming that refusals are all unjustified, that international students were the focus of anger rather than the Liberal government.
And any public conversation will of course need to address the very real pressures on housing, healthcare and infrastructure that immigration-based population growth has exacerbated.
It is striking that so many immigration researchers did not anticipate or warn about the impact of the excessive growth in temporary and permanent residents. Some reflection is in order, rather than making these weak, and in some cases, false arguments:
In 2023, Canada marked the 100th anniversary of the Chinese Exclusion Act, a law that explicitly banned nearly all Chinese immigrants for nearly a quarter century. Many see it as a black mark in Canadian history because it deliberately targeted and expelled the very Chinese labourers who had done the dangerous, back-breaking work of building the Canadian Pacific Railway, only to be cast aside once their labour was no longer needed.
The centenary was a moment of reflection. But since then, Canada has become more restrictive, not less. Rising immigration refusal rates, while not racially explicit, are carrying the pattern of exclusion forward.
Recent data shows that applicants across almost all permanent and temporary resident categories, skilled workers, international students, grandparents and refugees, are facing more rejections. Immigration officials and political leaders point to policy integrity, institutional capacity and shifting targets. But these procedural justifications obscure a more unsettling truth: our immigration system is shifting from openness toward restriction, prioritizing exclusion over welcome.
As a migration scholar as well as an immigrant myself, I know that exclusion doesn’t always arrive with bold legal declarations. It often hides in plain sight, through administrative hurdles, opaque rules, and decisions that are hard to explain but easy to feel.
One clear example we have all experienced collectively across Canada is the demonization of international students. In the past two years, federal policy changes dramatically capped their numbers, blamed them for historical housing and health care shortages and limited their ability to stay.
This framing fuelled hateful online commentary, targeted in-person violent hate crimes and attacks, and even anti-immigrant posters, such as one spotted near a college in Toronto’s Roncesvalles neighbourhood that used multiculturalism to justify xenophobia.
Another example is a spike in Express Entry rejections for permanent residency when applicants declare an “nonaccompanying” spouse. This tactic, once common and legal, is now treated by officers as a sign of dishonesty, triggering procedural fairness letters or outright refusal. This shift is not in the law but in how rules are interpreted and enforced.
The numbers tell a broader story. In just two years, rejection rates for all temporary resident categories have increased 10 to 27 per cent. For example, rejection rates for student permits rose to 65 per cent from 41 per cent and work permits for spouses to study and work rose to 52 per cent from 25 per cent. While visitor visas rose to 50 per cent from 39 per cent.
Then there are the persistent disparities in approval rates for applicants from the Global South. African students, in particular, have long faced disproportionate rejection. Parliamentary testimony revealed that French-speaking African students can face refusal rates as high as 80 to 83 per cent, among the highest of any group, often because officers doubt their “intent” to return home after studying.
A 2024 MPOWER Financing report found that fewer than half of African student visa applications are approved, with rates dropping to 22 per cent for some Francophone African countries. Earlier analyses of IRCC data by the Canadian Association of Professional Immigration Consultants showed that from 205 to 2020, Nigeria’s approval rate was 12 per cent. These decisions, couched in bureaucratic language, reproduce long-standing patterns of racial and regional bias, sending a powerful message about who is seen as credible future Canadians, and who is not.
To be clear, today’s policies are not the same as the 1923 Chinese Exclusion Act, which was explicit, racist, and devastating for Chinese Canadian families. But we would be naïve to think that exclusion only happens when written in black and white legislation.
As Catherine Clement’s recent book ”The Paper Trail to the 1923 Chinese Exclusion Act” shows, policy is not just about law, it’s about how it’s felt, lived, and remembered. Her work documents how exclusion operated through bureaucratic delays, suspicion, and silence, separating families for lifetimes and squandering human potential.
What we are seeing today is different, but still worth naming: a shift toward discretion-based refusal, especially for applicants from racialized countries and communities. When exclusion becomes procedural, it becomes harder to see, challenge or measure.
Immigration, at its best, is a promise: that those who qualify will be treated fairly, and that our system reflect our values. My own family benefited from that promise and was able to live the Canadian dream. But rising rejection rates, unclear standards, and a lack of transparency undermine that promise. If we want to preserve the integrity of our immigration system, we must first preserve its fairness.
That starts with publishing disaggregated refusal statistics, improving officer training, clarifying communication with applicants, and creating accountability mechanisms when discretion oversteps reason. Above all, it requires a public conversation that resists easy answers and considers the human cost of policy shifts.
We tell ourselves that we’ve moved past the kind of exclusion Catherine Clement documents so powerfully. But history doesn’t just live in museums, it echoes in policy, in silence, and in the decisions we choose not to question.
We still have time to course correct. But it will take political courage, public awareness, and a willingness to look critically at what our systems are doing, not just what they claim to do. Canada must resist creeping exclusion and remain a place of opportunity, or Gold Mountain (金山) the Chinese nickname for Canada.
Multicultural Meanderings 