The ethics of migration in the long run

Abstract

In the contemporary ethics of immigration, the “conventional view” is often assumed to be restrictionist: the claim that states have a moral right to control immigration. But has this view always been considered “conventional”? A review of major political theories on human mobility and political power, from the 16th to the18th century, suggests not. The restrictionist view on immigration was far from being the “conventional view.” Instead, freedom of movement was supported across a wide range of political theories, both rights-based and consequentialist. During the 16th–17th centuries, denying innocent people their freedom of movement was seen as an injustice, an unjustified hostility, and therefore a potential justification for retaliating with war. In the 17th–18th centuries, sovereigns were commonly advised to attract immigrants and discourage emigration. Consequentialist arguments drawn from mercantilism, physiocracy, and classical economics often favoured liberal mobility policies. The rediscovery of this intellectual history challenges the assumption that immigration control is the natural or default starting point for normative debate. It demonstrates both that restrictionism is a historically contingent and relatively recent position, and that freedom of movement is a topic that has been strikingly neglected in contemporary political theory.

Introduction

The contemporary ethics of immigration is often described as divided between two camps (Bader, 2005; Fine, 2013; Seglow, 2005; Song, 2018). The first camp supports a moral right for states or peoples to restrict immigration. The second disagrees and advocates greater freedom of movement for individuals. Yet there are reasons to doubt that the debate is well-balanced (Dumitru, 2023). Both camps regard the first view as the natural starting point for the debate. Even prominent critics, such as Carens (2013), describe it as more “realist” and call it the “conventional moral view.”

The question raised here is whether the first view, which assigns states a moral right to restrict immigration, is “conventional.” There are at least three meanings of the phrase “conventional view,” depending on whether the emphasis is on the people, the duration, or the mode of holding a view. Thus, a view can be said to be “conventional” because it is (i) what is commonly believed by most ordinary people (common wisdom); (ii) what stands the test of time (a classical or traditional view); (iii) what is not eccentric, but rather a standard or a taken for granted view (default position).

In which sense is the view that states should have a moral right to restrict immigration “conventional”? The first one can be set aside here because whether a view is widespread amongst the ordinary people is a sociological question the answer of which varies over time and across the groups surveyed. Instead, the focus will be on the second and third meanings of a “conventional view”: is the view that states have a moral right to restrict immigration a “traditional view” or a “default position”?

To answer this question, this article surveys the main schools of modern political thought on human mobility and political power. Contemporary ethicists of migration seldom turn to the history of ideas but calling a moral view “conventional” may lead one to believe that the view is classical and has always been held. When this is not the case, such misunderstandings should be avoided, prompting ethicists to ask why what they now see as the conventional moral view departs so sharply from what generations of thinkers regarded as just.

In this article, the analysis is centred on modern political thought from the 16th to the 18th centuries. Beginning in the 16th century is appropriate for two reasons. First, the arguments at that time frequently appealed to biblical, secular and classical authorities. Therefore, focusing on this period reveals how “conventional views” were grounded in a much older tradition than modern political thought. Second, relevant writings multiplied considerably after the invention of printing (c. 1450) and the discovery of the “New World” (1492), providing a more reliable picture of what was conventional.

Based on this review, this article shows that the idea that states have a moral right to restrict immigration was neither a “traditional view” nor the “default position.” On the contrary, freedom of movement was supported by a considerable number of political theories. During the 16th–17th centuries, the “default position,” from which scholars often elaborated or qualified their own position was the view that denying innocent people their freedom of movement could justify retaliating with war. During the 17th–18th centuries, freedom of movement became the conclusion, more than the premise, of arguments. While the “default position” was that sovereigns should encourage immigration and discourage emigration, the policies recommended most often led to liberal solutions.

This article aims not only to rectify the image that contemporary political theorists of migration have of their own field, but also to offer the first in-depth analysis of arguments concerning freedom of movement. Unlike other fundamental freedoms (e.g. freedom of expression or of association), no treatise of political ideas has yet been devoted to this topic. Its contemporary neglect contrasts with the diversity of arguments advanced in the past in favour of free movement.

The article is divided into two parts. The first explores rights-based views, elaborated during the 16th–17th centuries and showing why the right to free movement had long been a basic principle of the law of nations. The second examines consequentialist conceptions, articulated during the 17th–18th centuries, such as mercantilism, physiocracy, and classical economics. While the default position, during this period, was to encourage immigration and discourage emigration, the conclusion of their arguments was often to increase freedom, including freedom of movement. The concluding section briefly discusses why history of ideas is important for contemporary political theorists, including conservatives.

Rights-based views

In the 16th and 17th centuries, two debates contributing to the foundation of the Law of Nations argued that freedom of movement is a fundamental right. The first, initiated by Francisco de Vitoria (1483–1546) and elaborated by other members of the Salamanca School, concerns the right to travel and settle in the New World. The second debate, launched by Hugo Grotius (1583–1645), concerned the question of “freedom of the seas.” A third debate concerned the right to leave the country without permission.

What is common to these debates is that (i) freedom of movement is often the “default position” that was to be justified, qualified or criticised; (ii) to this effect, most thinkers start with arguments from authority, quoting from ancient sources; (iii) for many of them, but not all, the fundamental status of free movement lies in the fact that it was derived from natural law, but also that its violation was a moral justification for waging war.

Before reviewing the modern debates, we will briefly show the main principles they derived from the ancient sources.

The classics’ classics

Most modern thinkers begin by quoting ancient sources, mainly of three kinds: biblical texts, secular writings and elements of the law of nations. These sources converge in arguing that it is unjust to deny innocent foreigners freedom of passage or residence. Three reasons often support this argument: unjust treatment of innocent people is (i) evidence of “barbarism”; (ii) a hostile attitude that justifies responding with war; (iii) a violation of a natural right existing from “the beginning of the world.”

First, it was suggested that the refusal of a new arrival had been condemned as “barbaric” since Antiquity. The Latin poet Virgil (70–19 B.C.) was often quoted as an illustration. In Aeneid, Aeneas’ companions, surprised by the refusal to land, express their incomprehension: “What race of men is this? What land is so barbaric as to allow this custom, that we’re denied the hospitality of the sands?” (Virgil: i: 657–694). Strabo is also quoted for saying that barbarians usually lack hospitality (Gentili, 1598 [2012]: I: XIX).

Second, it was assumed that denying inoffensive foreigners freedom of passage or residence is not only unjust but also hostile behaviour. Aeneas’ companions, facing the refusal to land, concluded that it would trigger a war: “They stir up war, and prevent us setting foot on dry land. If you despise the human race and mortal weapons, still trust that the gods remember right and wrong” (Virgil: I: 657–694).

Could hostile behaviour in denying passage justify retaliatory war then? Augustine (354–430) commented on a biblical story about how the people of Israel being refused harmless passage responded by waging war and conquering the cities of the Amorites. Interpreting this excerpt from the Book of Numbers, Augustine implies that war could be just: “It is indeed worth noting how just wars were waged. For innocent passage was denied, which by the most equitable law of human society ought to have been open. But to fulfil his promises, God helped the Israelites, to whom it was proper to give the land of the Amorites.” ¹ (Augustin: IV, 44)

Finally, the freedom to travel and settle abroad is considered, along with the right to trade, to be a fundamental principle of the law of nations (jus gentium). The forerunner of international law, the law of nations comprises general principles inherited from Roman and canonical law, which should govern human relations throughout the world.

One way to argue that freedom to move and of trade derives from the natural law was to show its primordial status, going back to the “beginning of the world.” Both secular and religious sources are used to defend this idea. For instance, Seneca (1–65) is quoted as referring to the times when people “did not surround their cities with walls—the land was one grand highway, open to all; and the enjoyment of all things was within the reach of and common to everyone” (Seneca: Act II).

Most authors use religious sources to evoke the beginning of the world. Francisco de Vitoria combined an argument from the biblical times “it was permissible from the beginning of the world (when everything was in common) for anyone to set forth and travel wheresoever he would” with a rational argument about present times. He claimed that “this was not taken away by the division of property [between nations], for it was never the intention of peoples to destroy by that division the reciprocity and common user which prevailed among men” (Vitoria, 1539 [1917]: III: Proof 2).

To sum up, ancient sources, both religious and secular, were used to describe freedom of movement as the conventional view in the sense that it stands the test of time.

Salamanca school

In the 16th century, Francisco de Vitoria argued that human beings have a natural right to travel and settle abroad. His lecture De Indis (1539) was occasioned by the question of whether the children of unbelievers in the “New World” may be baptised against their parents’ wishes. But Vitoria was rather troubled by the news of the massacres perpetrated by the Spaniards in these regions and sought to answer the broader question of what Spaniards and Indians were entitled to.

Vitoria maintained that the Indians were the legitimate owners of their lands, thus opposing both the Papacy’s and the Spanish crown’s claims at the time. But he argued that territorial sovereignty (of the Indians) in no way implies a right to refuse the arrival and settlement of foreigners (Spaniards). This would not have been just. Vitoria, who is regarded as one of the founders of modern international law, thought that the law of nations took precedence over the sovereigns’ decision: “the law of nations does not have the force merely of pacts or agreements between men” rather the “whole world, which is in a sense a commonwealth, has the power to enact laws which are just and convenient to all men; and these make up the law of nations” (Vitoria, 1528 [1991]: III, § 21).

It would have been unjust to deny the right to travel and to sojourn because its foundation was on the right of the “natural society and communication” (Vitoria, 1539 [1917]: III, Proof 1). According to Vitoria, “friendship among people exists by natural law and it is against nature to shun the society of harmless folk” (Vitoria, 1539 [1917]: III, Proof 8).

The only limits of free movement are derived from a non-harm principle: for while it is “inhumane to treat visitors and foreigners badly without some special cause, (. . .) the case would be different if the foreigners were to misbehave” (Vitoria, 1539 [1917]: III, Proof 1). Conversely, the right to free movement has a correlative duty not to prohibit arrival and residence in a territory: “it would not be lawful for the French to prevent the Spanish from traveling or even from living in France, or vice versa, provided this in no way enured to their hurt and the visitors did no injury”(Vitoria, 1539 [1917]: III, Proof 4).

What should be done in case of harm? Vitoria remains silent on this question insofar as he did not explicitly analyse this case. He was aware of the misdeed and confessed to being terrified by the assassination of the Inca king. Bartolomé de Las Casas (1484-1566), among others, meticulously documented the massacres, exploitation, and pillaging perpetrated by the Spaniards in the “destruction of the Indies” (Las Casas, 1552 [2004]).

Can the harm perpetrated justify limiting the rights of newcomers to immigrate? One might speculate that Vitoria would answer in the negative because the injustice is committed by individuals: the newcomers are not guilty of the misdeeds of other Spaniards. Yet, do the Indians have the right to anticipate that similar atrocities could happen again and to limit immigration?

Vitoria’s disciples did not respond to this question by denying the importance of the freedom to travel. Instead, they refocused the debate on the quality of “traveller.” Melchor Cano (1509–1560), Vitoria’s successor at Salamanca, suggested that “the Spaniards did not enter as travellers, but as invaders - unless we call Alexander a traveller” (Cano, 1546 [1982]: 579).

Alonso de la Vera Cruz (1507–1584) thought that in some cases, the Indians could deny the Spaniards entry. Writing from the University of Mexico, he argued that “if the inhabitants of the New World, unarmed, seeing the Spanish soldiers armed and robust, perhaps feared that they were not coming to make a journey, but to explore, strip and dominate,” then if, taking their precautions, the Indians did not let them in, they would not be committing an injustice (Vera Cruz, 1554 [2007]).

The idea that it is unjust to deny foreigners freedom of movement was not only about the explorers’ right to travel to the New World. Domingo de Soto (1494–1560) supported the right of poor foreigners to free movement. Soto (1545 [2013]) criticised the Poor Laws that had just been passed in Europe, which gave cities responsibility for addressing poverty, while prohibiting the poor from begging and travelling.

Soto makes five arguments for the free movement of poor foreigners. First, no one can be banished from a place if they have done nothing wrong, because “according to natural law and the law of nations, everyone has the freedom to come and go as he pleases, as long as he is not an enemy and does not cause harm” (Soto, 1545: 39). Second, the right to subsistence implies a right to leave one’s native lands; therefore, any law prohibiting the poor from asking for alms elsewhere is condemnable unless it obliges the inhabitants of those lands to effectively support all their poor (a requirement in line with the Gospel but which cannot, according to Soto, be imposed by law). Third, in a Christian world, inequality (between people, bishoprics, cities or kingdoms) calls for redistribution without discrimination: “not only is the whole kingdom obliged to feed its poor, but the poor of one kingdom have the right to ask for alms in the name of God in another, if they are truly poor” (Soto, 1545: 40). Fourth, the reasons for travelling are manifold and do not need to be justified: “no more reasons should be asked of the poor than of the rich for the fact that they are travelling outside their native land” (Soto, 1545: 40). Fifth, meeting the poor foreigners is an opportunity to respect to a universal norm: “if hospitality is so recommended to us by natural and divine law, with whom can we Christians put it into practice if not with poor foreigners?” (Soto, 1545: 41).

To sum up, the freedom to travel and settle was supported by most members of the School of Salamanca, as contemporary scholars, such as Salamanca (2019) and Lemos (2025) have shown. Some of them have famously linked the ius gentium to colonial ambitions (Anghie, 1996), but the principle of freedom of movement was, in fact, frequently applied to intra-European questions.

Freedom of the seas

The idea that free movement is an essential principle of the law of nations was elaborated by Hugo Grotius (1583–1645). Grotius is regarded as a founder of modern natural law, especially for his treatise The Law of War and Peace (1625), but his first notable contribution was to the Law of the Sea. His book Mare liberum (1609) was originally a chapter in the unpublished treatise De jure prædæ.

Nowadays, debates on freedom of the seas might seem irrelevant to the ethics of migration which focuses more on settlement than on movement. However, these debates shed light on how the principle of free movement was used to limit the expansion of conflicting sovereignties.

In Mare liberum, Grotius rejects the Portuguese claims to appropriate the sea (to sovereignty, so to speak) that were legitimised by papal bulls and treaties with the Spanish. But how exactly could sovereignty be acquired: by donation, by the consent of neighbours or by discovery? Grotius’ answer is that none of these reasons justify appropriating the sea.

The fundamental role of freedom of movement is recognised at the beginning of Mare liberum: “We will lay this certain rule of the law of nations (which they call primary) as the foundation, the reason whereof is clear and immutable: that it is lawful for any nation to go to any other and to trade with it.” (Grotius, 1609 [2004]: Ch. 1). This view is reminiscent of Vitoria’s concept of the “right of natural society and communication” from whom Grotius also quotes the idea that violating the right to go and trade is one of the just causes of war. Later on, Grotius will reaffirm the freedom to leave one’s country, mentioning some rare exceptions (Grotius, 1625 [1925]: II, V, XXIV, 253–254).

Yet, free movement is not only the “default view”: Grotius further develops at least three arguments to support freedom of seas. First, an argument by analogy with free passage over land: “on the land, which is given both to nations and every particular man in property, a quiet and harmless passage can justly be denied to no men of any nation, no more than drink out of a river” (Grotius, 1609 [2004]: Ch. 5). Second, the argument from the sea as “pure public good,” as 20th century economists call it: goods whose consumption is both non-exclusive and non-rivalrous (Musgrave, 1969). A forerunner of this concept, Grotius argues that the sea cannot be occupied or bordered so as to exclude others (non-excludable), while an extra ship does not reduce the space for others (non-rivalry). But while contemporary economists argue that pure public goods require control, Grotius infers that nature commands the sea not to be owned. A good profitable to the receivers and not offensive to the giver should be shared as these are “duties that the philosophers will have performed not only to strangers but also to the unthankful”(Grotius, 1609 [2004]: Ch. 5). Thirdly, the argument of inalienability: a (papal) donation which would violate people’s natural rights is illegitimate “if with one word it should exclude so many people, irreproachable, uncondemned and harmless” (Grotius, 1609 [2004]: Ch. 7). Unlike Vitoria who thought free movement is compatible with sovereignty, Grotius suggested that only global public ownership is.

Although published anonymously, Mare Liberum generated a heated debate in which conceptual distinctions were intertwined economic interests. The first to react was the Scottish jurist William Wellwood (1590–1622), who argued that Grotius was misleading: the freedom to navigate was not disputed although it did not imply the freedom to fish. There was no freedom to fish because fish is not a non-rival resource, since it can be “exhausted and wasted,” according to Welwod (1613: Ch. 27), who also advocated a royalty on the seas.

The Portuguese jurist Séraphin de Freitas (1570–1633) who argued that the sea could be appropriated, made a conceptual distinction between three kinds of freedom of movement: the right to simple passage, to arrival due to extreme necessity and to travel. He agreed that freedom of passage was a right that foreigners could take up with arms if they were refused, and that extreme necessity prohibited the prince from refusing hospitality. But Freitas believed that the right to travel was not absolute because “any state is free to forbid its ports, trade and habitation to foreigners, if it considers them too powerful” (Freitas, 1624 [1882]: 29). For him, the prince had to justify his decision, especially if it concerned resident foreigners, but freedom to arrive and settle should not be absolute. Freitas argued that the seas belong to the Portuguese on the grounds of papal donation and discovery; hence, the Dutch do not have a right to sail. He refuted the objection of the sea as a non-exclusive public good, arguing that what can be occupied is not the sea, but the bed of the sea. Analogously, the air belongs to the owner of the land: “from this comes the right to raise our buildings to the heavens’ and ‘from this also comes that it is not permitted to enter the lands of others to breathe the good air” (Freitas, 1624 [1882]: 196).

The author of Mare clausum (1635), John Selden (1584–1654) argued that Great Britain should be sovereign over all the surrounding seas. Reiterating the arguments in favour of free movement, he saw no incompatibility between the freedom and the appropriation of the seas: “what has this to do with the dominion of the thing through which merchants and foreigners must pass?” (Selden, 1635: Ch. 20). For Selden, it was enough for sovereigns not to prohibit free passage without legitimate reason: they would do so because such a prohibition would lead to war.

Selden borrows a reason to oppose free passage from Alberico Gentili (1552–1608). Commenting on the biblical excerpt about the Amorites mentioned above, Gentili held that fear could constitute a reason for prohibiting passage. For Selden, fear might be subjective, but the number of ships could make fear more justified: “it would not be lawful for either party to sail (. . .) with such a number of ships or men-of-war as to give rise to fear and jealousy” except with prior authorisation or in an emergency (Selden, 1635: Ch. 20).

Arguments aimed at restricting sovereignty on the grounds of freedom of movement – this “primary” rule of the law of nations, according to Grotius – do not only apply to the seas. They concern roads, rivers and other infrastructures which are seen as “artery of the mankind,” as Scholz (2020) has shown.

Thus, the German philosopher Johann Jacob Müller (1650–1716) argued that “the royal roads are public by the natural law and the law of nations,” and “they cannot but be, by the consent of all humanity, excluded from ownership in perpetuity and made open to all for common use” (Müller, 1693: VI). In his dissertation On the law of transit through another’s territory (1693), he adapted Grotius’ arguments about pure public goods. On the one hand, because roads are traversing the entire globe (totum terrarum orbem emetientes), they are “almost infinite and incomprehensible” (infinitæ quasi & incomprehensibiles) so that no people can border them “or arrogate some right and exclude others from the common use” (Müller, 1693: VI). On the other hand, the principle of “Inoffensive Utility” affirms a moral duty to share with others whatever is useful to them and harmless to oneself, following the maxim what is for you is for another as well (Quod tibi, hoc alteri) (Müller, 1693: X). This is the case of the duties to grant the rights of sojourning (concedere jus morandi), residing (habitandi), and occupying deserted places (occupandi loca deserta) because they are useful to the recipients and, according to Müller, inoffensive to anyone (non molesta sunt).

To sum up, free movement was the “default position” in the debate around Mare liberum. The debate did not concern only mobility across the sea. Rather, it involved the extent to which the primacy of freedom of movement could limit claims to sovereignty, appropriation, and exclusion.

Freedom to leave one’s country

Which of the two positions was the “conventional view”: the right of states to restrict immigration or freedom of movement? The evidence shows that restricting immigration was far from being the default position. Yet it remains uncertain that freedom of movement was the (sole) background principle. The reason is that a common question addressed in early modern thought was the right to leave one’s country without permission. Does this imply that permission, rather than freedom, was the default view?

The right to leave one’s country had been enshrined in in the Magna Carta Libertatum (1215). This foundational text of English constitutional law sought to limit sovereign power by protecting individual freedoms. Two articles concerned freedom of movement. Article 41 granted “all merchants” the right to depart, enter, reside, and travel over the country. Article 42 established a “lawful” right “for every man” to leave and return to the country freely. Both articles included wartime exceptions, while the latter conditioned departure on “saving allegiance” to the king.

The right to leave was omitted from the substantially reduced 1216 reissue, but the “allegiance” condition is revealing. Its origin lies in the late 11th century, when two popes coexisted. In 1097, the king had prevented Archbishop Anselm of Canterbury from travelling to Rome, asserting exclusive authority to recognise the pope. This episode is important because it highlights how a conflict between two sovereignties – religious and territorial – was won by the king. The Constitutions of Clarendon (1164) codified the king’s prerogative, expressly prohibiting clerics from leaving the country without royal permission. Magna Carta (1215) repealed that restriction, enshrining a general right of departure and return – conditioned, however, on loyalty to the crown.

These qualifications occupy jurisconsults for centuries. During the period under consideration here, Edward Coke (1552–1634) was one of the most influential English jurists. In his commentary on the Magna Carta, he disaggregated merchants’ free movement into seven rights: to enter, leave, travel, reside, buy, and sell, together with the freedom from “evil tolls.” He aimed to subordinate any restrictions to the authority of statute, not royal prerogative: merchants could travel without licence, free from arbitrary impositions, and restrained only by Act of Parliament. Even in wartime, merchants from a hostile sovereign were to be protected unless English merchants were known to suffer mistreatment in the enemy’s country (Coke, 1642 [1797]: XXX, 57–60).

While later reissues of Magna Carta granted merchants the greatest freedom of movement, everyone’s right to leave the country remained unprotected and subject to restrictions. Coke (1644 [1809]) reminds that the clergy faced strictest limitations and had to provide a surety before leaving. The laity enjoyed freedom according to their supposed duties: nobility needed royal permission, whereas ordinary people could travel without licence. Exit was bounded by royal prerogative – the king could recall subjects residing abroad – while reciprocity in wartime and a right of sanctuary between allied kingdoms (akin to modern asylum) tempered this power.

Unlike Coke, who does not view free movement as a “default position” (though he grounds it in “ancient law and custom”), his contemporary Richard Zouche (1590–1661) does. Zouche authored a treaty of jus inter gentes thus anticipating what Bentham later called “international” law. There, Zouche asks whether a citizen may leave his country without permission and answers affirmatively on natural law grounds. Citing Tryphonius and Ciceron, he defends “the free power of determining one’s own state,” closely following the answer given in The Law of War and Peace by Grotius (1625 [1925]: II, v, xxiv, 253–254). Restrictions are justified in exceptional cases: large-scale departures, individual debts, or imminent siege. Beyond such circumstances, “peoples agree to the free departure of citizens” (Zouche, 1650 [1911]: II, ii, §12, 68).

John Locke (1632–1704) goes further and makes any political authority dependent on freedom of movement. In his Second Treatise of Government, Locke (1689 [1887]), distinguishes express from tacit consent. Since “every man [is] naturally free” (§119), subjection to earthly power requires consent. Express consent – “entering into any society” – is unambiguous and binds one perpetually (§119, §121). But ordinary political obligation arises from tacit consent, which Locke defines by the territorial “possession or enjoyment,” even by “travelling freely on the highway” (§119). Because jurisdiction is over land, tacit consent to obey the land’s laws begins and ends with territorial presence as everyone remains “at liberty to go and incorporate himself into any other commonwealth” (§121). Exit is therefore not a marginal liberty but the necessary condition that justifies political obligation.

To sum up, in the 17th century the right to leave one’s country was grounded either in “ancient law and custom” or in the natural freedom to come and go. A century later, political economists continued debating both the right and its qualifications. By the late 18th century, freedom of movement – including the right to emigrate, immigrate, expatriate oneself – had been enshrined in declarations of rights or constitutions adopted in various American or European states. Yet, despite valuable contributions (e.g. Adinaro, 1973; Dumitru, 2026; McAdam, 2011; Scholz, 2020; Smith-Drelich, 2024; Whelan, 1981) a comprehensive history of freedom of movement has yet to be written.

Consequences-based views

While many jurisconsults and natural law theorists took freedom of travel and trade as a premise for their rights-based arguments, political economists provided a new perspective on human mobility. Serving princes rather than a “universal republic,” mercantilists assumed that wealth lay in possessing gold and a large population. Their doctrine was criticised by the economists called “classics,” such as Smith (1776: Book IV), from whom it inherited the initially pejorative name of “mercantilism.”

Mercantilists and their critics introduced a consequentialist view of human mobility. Unlike deontological theories, which set limits on political action based on rights, duties or principles, consequentialist ethics evaluates policies according to whether they produce beneficial consequences.

Mercantilism

As mercantilists equated wealth with possessing gold and a large population, they had two main kinds of policies recommendations. On trade, they advised to increase the quantity of gold by reducing imports and increasing exports. On population, mercantilists sought measures to increase the birth rate, but also to encourage immigration and discourage emigration.

To encourage immigration, two main measures are recommended: more favourable laws for foreigners than for natives, as well as policies of (general) naturalisation.

The first measure is mentioned by Jean Bodin (1530–1596). In The Six Books of the Republic (1575), he distinguishes between two situations. When a country was short of people, foreigners had to be attracted by granting them privileges or laws that were more favourable than those applicable to the native population. Bodin gave the example of the tax-exempt Swiss in France or the situation of foreigners in Florence, of whom the Florentines were so jealous that they asked the duke to recognise them as foreigners. The second situation is that of sufficiently populated countries which should only grant foreigners “the laws of humanity” and advantages equal to those of the natives. However, Bodin believed, as did others, that “if the laws of a Republic are equitable and gentle, if personal freedom and the freedom of trade are respected, that country will populate itself; foreigners will flock there without privileges, if the climate does not put them off” (Bodin, 1575 [1755]: Book I, Ch. XI).

The second measure to attract foreigners was naturalisation, especially “general naturalisation” of entire groups. In Great Britain’s political debates of 17th–18th centuries, such groups included Protestants and Jews refugees. Mercantilists who famously pleaded for general naturalisation included Josiah Child and Charles Davenant.

For Josiah Child (1630–1699), naturalisation was the conventional view: it was “so generally owned and assented to, by all degrees of men amongst us” that “an Act of Naturalization of Strangers would tend to the advancement of trade and increase of the value of the lands” (Child, 1689: Ch. VII, 122) that he did not need to defend it. He then devoted his argument to convincing those who doubted that naturalisation should be extended to Jews. Although they competed with English merchants, Child maintained that this contributed to the good of the kingdom. Reminding that other governments “allow them not only perfect Liberty and Security but give them the privilege of making laws among themselves,” he argued that a regime of tolerance would attract them to settle for generations. He advocated two “principles of nature”: firstly, “all men are alike” and secondly, “fear is the cause of hatred and hatred of separation from, as well as evil deed to, the government” (Child, 1689: 125). Distinguishing “between a bare connivance in matters of religion, & a toleration by law,” Child advised fixing populations and making them “quiet and peaceable-minded” by giving legal guarantees, for if “the laws in force are against men, they think the sword hangs over their heads (though the execution is only suspended)” (Child, 1689: 126).

Although John Locke is not a mercantilist, he shared some mercantilist views (e.g. on money, on population). More importantly here, he also developed consequentialist arguments in favour of “naturalisation (. . .) the shortest and easiest way of increasing your people” (Locke, 1693 [1997]: 322). The conventional view for him was that population constituted both the strength (“too visible to need proof”) and the wealth of countries. Maintaining that wealth does not lie in territory, but in trade, he argued that in both of trade’s sectors, manufacture, and transportation, to have “plenty of hands is what contributes most.” Locke considered several objections to naturalisation, which he rejected. First, naturalisation does not bring in idle people rather than artisans: he believed that the laws to provide for the poor may make people idle, but that foreigners may be excluded from them. Second, there are never enough people: “no country can by the accession of strangers grow too full of people” since they bring wealth with them. But if economic conditions are too bad, they won’t come. Third, foreigners do not take jobs from locals because “nobody will leave his neighbour to use a foreigner” unless “they work cheaper or better.” Fourth, while language may be an obstacle, it will be overcome by the second generation. Fifth, foreigners do not increase the numbers of the poor: if by poor is meant those who have only their labour to support themselves, they are not a burden but create wealth.

The economist Charles Davenant (1656–1714) reaffirmed the opinion “very warmly contended for by many good patriots” that an act of general naturalisation would increase the population “very fast” and repair the loss caused by the war (Davenant, 1699: 27). However, he expressed hesitation about the possibility that certain foreigners, who “may be spies, and who may have interests opposed to those of England,” be accepted “in the important business of sending members to Parliament.” As a Member of Parliament himself, Davenant believed that this disadvantage disappears for the second generation. He recommended attracting foreigners except for the military: “it must be composed of labouring men, artificers, merchants, and other rich men, and not of foreign soldiers: since such fright and drive away from a nation more people than their troops can well consist of.” The reason was that “men abound most where there is most freedom” and Davenant though that “foreign soldiers are dangerous to liberty” (Davenant, 1699: 28).

Unlike Davenant, William Petty (1623–1687) praised the Dutch policy of recruiting foreign soldiers. While showing that “a small country and a few people can be equivalent in wealth and strength to a far greater people and territory,” Petty mentions in passing that a country hiring foreign soldiers increases its population: it saves the lives of natives who work for better paid occupations, the children of solders are naturalised and remain in the country, “whilst new Strangers are admitted ad infinitum”(Petty, 1676 [1690]: 31). Petty compares this policy with the laws of naturalisation which in Ireland “had little effect to bring in Aliens,” in the absence of “the pay of Soldiers, or some other advantage amounting to maintenance.” He doubted that naturalisation could attract foreigners: “as if Men could be charmed to transplant themselves from their own Native, into a Foreign Country merely by words, and for the bare leave of being called by a new Name” (Petty, 1676 [1690]: 31).

As mercantilists equated population with wealth, they sought to discourage emigration – yet consistently recommended liberal institutions.

Charles Davenant believed that population size varies with freedom: “nothing can more contribute to the rendering of England populous and strong than to have liberty upon a right footing and our legal constitution firmly preserved.” Conversely, constitutional instability and a renunciation of rights would lead to a visible and rapid decrease in population because, in his view “liberty encourages procreation, and not only keeps our own inhabitants among us, but invites strangers to come and live under the shelter of our laws” (Davenant, 1699: 26).

Josiah Child considered religious tolerance and economic factors to reduce emigration. In a chapter dealing with “the nature of plantations and the good or evil consequences in relation to this and other kingdoms,” Child rejects the idea that colonies harm the mainland by depopulating it. He argued that some emigrants were religious refugees who, “wearied with Church censures and persecutions, were forced to quit the land of their fathers, to find out new habitation” (Child, 1689: 196). He criticised governments that aimed for religious uniformity to the point of expelling entire communities, depopulating territories and weakening the economy. As for the economic levers of emigration, Child introduces an “invisible hand” argument before Adam Smith: “if that evacuation be grown to an excess, (. . .) that decrease [of population in the mainland] would procure its own remedy; for much want of people would procure greater and greater wages, and if our laws gave encouragement, it would procure us a supply of people without the charge of breeding them” (Child, 1689: 201).

Physiocracy

Physiocrats shared mercantilist views on emigration and immigration while opposing those on wealth and trade. First, they redefined wealth arguing that a country is rich by virtue of what its inhabitants own, not just the state treasury. Second, as wealth cannot be equated with gold, the aim of trade is not to accumulate gold by increasing exports and reducing imports. Third, while population is a source of wealth, good government aims to ensure its subsistence. Hence, agricultural workers, responsible for food, are regarded as the only “productive class” while manufacturers and merchants, as a “sterile class.”

Physiocrats used both deontological and consequentialist arguments. Defending the rights to property and subsistence as natural rights, they called for a “physiocracy,” a term they coined to designate “the rule of nature” or government conforming to natural laws. They argued that true wealth comes exclusively from land, an idea that had already spread in the end of 17th century. For instance, Vauban (1633–1707) had argued that “The true Riches of a Kingdom consist in the abundance of such Goods, as are of necessary use for the Support of Men’s Lives, and which they cannot be without” (Vauban, 1710: 2).

Forerunners of liberal economic thought, the physiocrats generally recommended to increase economic freedom and reduce government interference. While the origin of the maxim “laissez-faire, laissez-passer” is attributed to several physiocrats (Prasch and Warin, 2019), none of them theorised “laissez-passer” as an individual right to free movement. The phrase was mainly used to advocate free movement of goods and money, within and between countries. This does not mean that the free movement of persons was not supported.

To facilitate immigration, Turgot (1727–1781) distinguished between three cases. For naturalised citizens, he considered providing temporary tax relief: “Any foreigner who settles in France and becomes a naturalised citizen will be exempt from tax for 10 years.” Other foreigners, “who come to settle in France to carry on a temporary trade,” can be attracted by various regulations. Finally, “for those who are attracted to France by curiosity and pleasure, they must enjoy complete freedom” (Turgot, 1775: 193).

The cofounder of physiocratic circle, Victor Riqueti Mirabeau (1715–1789), also thought that “a good government must pay particular attention to attracting foreigners to its country” (Mirabeau, 1758: 42). By “foreigners,” he understood “not only those who come to settle in the territory and bring their labour with them, but also those who travel or stay there for a while.” Hence, his policy recommendations went beyond legal reforms such as the abolition of the unequal inheritance rights (droit d’aubaine). Mirabeau believed that the development of science, arts and social values – such as politeness and meritocracy – are also likely to attract foreigners: “As long as a nation maintains the pre-eminence of merit and talent (. . .) the most distinguished youth of its neighbours will come to learn there, and everyone, even the humblest craftsmen, will want to seek instruction there” (Mirabeau, 1758: 48). He recommended building infrastructure, such as ports and roads, to open up to foreigners arguing that “fences are more against those they enclose than against those they exclude” (Mirabeau, 1758: 50). He criticised the British naturalisation policy for being “inconsistent” with both the country’s need for labour and its ambition to dominate world trade: “Spread the name of Englishman, like the Romans, over anyone who’s willing to take it on” suggested Mirabeau (1758: 131).

Yet, emigration, especially rural, was seen as bad. François Quesnay (1694–1774), who cofounded the physiocrat circle with Mirabeau, regarded the avoidance of the “misfortune of emigration” as one of the thirty General Maxims of the Economical Government in an Agricultural Kingdom. He commented on very briefly: “Let the desertion of inhabitants who would take their wealth out of kingdom be avoided” (Quesnay, 1767 [1907]: XI).

To prevent emigration, physiocrats looked to economic drivers (rather than to political values, like mercantilists). Quesnay assumed that “desertion” of rural areas was caused by high taxes and lack of subsistence. This is perhaps why he advised, in another “general maxim,” to “care more about increasing revenue than population” since a smaller but wealthier population is preferable for agricultural prosperity than a large population struggling for subsistence (Quesnay, 1767 [1907]: XXVI).

The question of how population size varies with the means of subsistence had already been addressed. Richard Cantillon (1680–1734) had suggested a positive correlation: “Men multiply like mice in a barn if they have illimited means to subsist”(Cantillon, 1730 [1755]: 110). Conversely, bad politics would cause emigration: “if the prince and the landowners use the land for purposes other than subsistence of the inhabitants (. . .) than the inhabitants will necessarily diminish in number. Some, for lack of employment, will be bound to leave the country” (Cantillon, 1730 [1755]: 96). The relation between population and subsistence will cause a heated debate after Malthus’ work.

Unlike mercantilists, physiocrats endorsed cosmopolitanism, as can be briefly illustrated by three authors. First, Mirabeau relied on natural law to argue that “all men are brothers by nature” and to defend a project of Treaty for “brotherhood between trading peoples” (Mirabeau, 1758: 117).

Second, Paul Le Mercier de la Rivière (1719–1809) argued that human society was prior to “particular societies”: “there existed only a natural, general, and tacit society; natural, because it consisted of those first rights which nature had established; general, because these duties and rights, . . . were the same for all beings of our species, and in all places where wandering men could transport themselves; tacit society, because it was established without any express agreement” (Le Mercier de la Rivière, 1767: 221).

Third, Nicolas Baudeau (1730–1792) opposed the foreigners-nationals distinction, arguing that the right criterion to differentiate between people is their “respect for property and freedoms of men of any kind” (Baudeau, 1771: 467). He therefore wondered why “even enlightened men” have convinced themselves and so many others that those who restricted their liberties are their friends and associates, while “innocent, peaceful people, who, at the other end of world, were only concerned with their own well-being without ever disturbing them, are their enemies?” (Baudeau, 1771: 470). He imagined a choice between “our planet divided into a thousand Peoples absolutely isolated, or totally occupied in harming each other” and “an entirely similar planet divided into a thousand fraternal peoples, united by the freedom and immunity of trade, who consequently stimulate and help each other” – to conclude that “for reasonable men,” the choice was obvious (Baudeau, 1771: 479–481).

Classical economics

Classical economists favoured free movement of people, goods, and capital. They opposed mercantilist views on trade and population. On trade, they agreed with physiocrats that the purpose of exchange is not to accumulate gold but to increase utility for both parties. On population, they disagreed with both mercantilists and physiocrats: they didn’t view a large population as a source of wealth, nor agricultural workers as the only “productive class.” Let us illustrate their views on labour mobility with three authors.

Adam Smith (1723–1790) relied on the “division of labour” to explain wealth. The division of tasks between workers increases productivity as it bring “the greatest improvement in the productive power of labour” (Smith, 1776 [1791]: I, i, 6). Hence, no category of workers can constitute the “only” productive class. Specialisation saved time and led to “this great increase of the quantity of work, which, in consequence of the division of labour, the same number of people are capable of performing” (Smith, 1776 [1791]: I, i, 12).

If a smaller number of people can produce more wealth than a greater number of people, can this be an argument against migration? The answer is negative. As Smith shown, the division of labour depends on the number of producers and consumers: “When the market is very small, no person can have any encouragement to dedicate himself entirely to one employment” (Smith, 1776 [1791]: I, iii, 26). Therefore, a larger population is a source of wealth insofar as it extends the division of labour.

Smith viewed the “free circulation of labour” as a “natural liberty”, maintaining that “to remove a man who has committed no misdemeanour from the parish where he chooses to reside, is an evident violation of natural liberty and justice” (Smith, 1776 [1791]: I, x, 219). Yet, his main argument for free movement is consequentialist, not deontological.

Smith argued that restricting freedom of movement was unjust because it increased inequality and poverty. In England, the Poor Laws made parishes responsible for helping the local poor. But to control who is a resident, parishes started issuing certificates of settlement granted when certain criteria of sojourn and work were met. The unintended consequence of the Poor Laws was to make residential and labour mobility difficult for the poor even when there was a need for labour in a different region. For this reason, Smith maintained that “in England, where it is often more difficult for a poor man to pass the artificial boundary of a parish than an arm of the sea or a ridge of high mountains, natural boundaries which sometimes separate very distinctly different rates of wages in other countries”(Smith, 1776 [1791]: I, x, 219). The consequence was that inequality between parishes was perpetuated.

Although Smith opposed to institutional restrictions on labour mobility, he would not have equated their removal with full wage equalisation. The reason is that he assumed human nature “inconsistent,” and when it comes to mobility, rather sedentary: “it appears evidently from experience that a man is of all sorts of luggage the most difficult to be transported” (Smith, 1776 [1791]: I, viii, 113).

Thomas Malthus (1766–1834) shared Smith’s view on both freedom of movement and on human disposition to sedentarism. But he did it for demographic, not economic, reasons. Malthus argued that the correlation between population size and subsistence was not linear, as some physiocrats assumed. What has been known as “Malthus law” maintained that population grows exponentially while food production grows arithmetically. Overpopulation would inevitably lead to lower wages and greater poverty. So, Malthus sharply disagreed with the mercantilists, who equated large population with wealth.

As Malthus held the exact opposite of mercantilism, did he advocated encouraging emigration and discouraging immigration?

Indeed, Malthus considered the idea of a government obligation to encourage emigration, but he ultimately favoured the idea of a government obligation to never prohibit it: “if it cannot be proved that governments are bound actively to encourage it, it is not only strikingly unjust, but in the highest degree impolitic in them to prevent it” (Malthus, 1807: 72). This echoed a debate with the mercantilists against whom Malthus argued that “there are no fears so totally ill-grounded as the fears of depopulation by emigration” (Malthus, 1807: 71).

Rather, Malthus advocated freedom of movement as an opportunity for both the government and the people. From the governmental perspective, the colonies appeared to be “a very happy circumstance for any country, to have so comfortable an asylum for its redundant population” (Malthus, 1807: II, iv, 67). Yet, for Malthus, emigration was a just “slight palliative,” a “partial and temporary expedient” to overpopulation.

From the individual perspective, the “opportunity of advantageous emigration” was sometimes not seized. Just as Smith viewed people as sedentary, Malthus assumed the existence of a “natural unwillingness of people to desert their native country” (Malthus, 1807: II, iv, 71). Malthus discussed what seems to be a public debate about personal responsibility of preferring to live in local poverty instead of emigrating. In an unusually poetic fragment, he suggested that people are not responsible for their attachment to the land and the loved ones. He describes a person’s decision to stay as an emotional dilemma between the suffering of separation and the “evil that he suffers, because he contends to bear it rather than snap these cords, which nature has wound in close and intricate folds round human heart” (Malthus, 1807: II, iv, 68). The dilemma was even worse for the poor as they could not afford to return if the separation was too difficult.

Jean-Baptiste Say (1767–1832) recommended freedom of movement, too. Yet, the French classical economist uses mercantilists arguments to support immigration. He equates a “stranger, who comes into a country to settle there, and brings his fortune along with him” with “two sources of wealth: industry and capital” (Say, 1803 [1834]: 219). He suggests that such immigrants possess “as much value, as the acquirement of a proportionate extension of territory, to say nothing of what is gained in a moral estimate, if the emigrant bring with him private virtue and attachment to the place of his adoption” (Say, 1803 [1834]: 220).

As in mercantilist arguments, Say uses the issue of migration as an occasion to plead for political freedoms. On the one hand, he suggests that persecution of religious minorities is bad and that in the revocation of the edict of Nantes, Louis XIV “had used his right hand to cut off his left.” On the other hand, coercion cannot be used to retain neither people nor their wealth. Say’s conclusion is a plea for political liberties that deserves to be quoted in full: “The best mode of retaining and attracting people is to treat them with justice and benevolence; to protect everyone in the enjoyment of the rights one regards with the highest reverence: to allow the free disposition of person and property, the liberty of coming and going, of staying, of speaking, reading, and writing in perfect security.” (Say, 1803 [1834]: 220).

To sum up, mercantilists, physiocrats and classical economists, although opposed on other issues, shared the “conventional view” of their time that states should encourage immigration. Taking the restrictionist view as the default position would have struck them as strange.

Conclusion

The article shows that the restrictionist view of immigration is not the “conventional view” in the ethics of migration, when the field is considered in longer run. This remains significant even though Carens (2013) and the thinkers who followed him understood by “conventional view” a widely held contemporary view. A long-run perspective has intrinsic value, but it also clarifies present debates.

This is especially relevant as conservatism undergoes renewed prominence. Intellectual history is therefore indispensable because, as John Kekes notes, conservatives “reflect on their history in order to understand what deserves their allegiance and what is inimical to having a good society” (Kekes, 1997: 353).

This article shows that from biblical to secular sources, classical writings suggest that innocent foreigners should have freedom of passage or residence. The rights to emigrate and immigrate were enshrined in foundational texts – from the mediaeval Magna Carta (1215) to the 18th century Articles of Confederation and several American and European constitutions and human rights declarations. The main schools of modern political thought, from the founders of international law (in the 16–17th centuries) to the pioneers of political economy (in the 17th–18th centuries), assumed or advocated freedom of movement.

The article invites contemporary political theorists to discuss principles of justice in migration beyond those that they usually examine. On the one hand, they may draw on rights-based theories from the 16th–17th centuries which treated freedom of movement as a natural liberty and the denial of passage and residence of innocent foreigners as an injustice. Using classical references, both religious and secular, principles of restorative justice suggested that such denials justify retaliatory wars. On the other hand, they may draw on consequences-based arguments from 17th to 18th centuries which, despite mercantilist drive to encourage immigration and discourage emigration, often recommended liberal solutions: from laws favourable to foreigners and general naturalisation, to political and economic freedoms.

Forgotten history can spark creativity and correct misconceptions. The question of how to encourage immigration – which occupied prominent minds and sovereign governments in the past – is never discussed by contemporary political theorists and migration scholars. Some philosophers even assume that sovereignty is necessarily linked to exclusion of immigrants. This article shows that the link is not necessary as sovereign governments once measured their strength by their ability to attract, not reject, immigrants.

Finally, it should be noted this study is necessarily incomplete. The inclusion criteria of authors sought to maximise (i) the diversity of arguments concerning freedom of movement, (ii) within a given political theory or a debate, and (iii) presented in chronological order. Consequently, major authors outside a specific theory examined for a given period are omitted. For example, since the 18th century is analysed here from the perspective of consequentialist theories, Kant is not included, although he supported the prince’s right to encourage immigration – a common idea at the time (see Kant (1797 [1996]: II, §50, 110) ² ). Many other authors – associated with the schools of thought of this period, or with those of the 19th century – have simply not been included for reasons of space.

Freedom of movement – the history of a political idea – is a research programme that goes far beyond the scope of a single article. The limits of this article are, above all, an invitation extended to other political theorists.