Dancing the ol' Taiwanese Government Shuffle on dual nationality until we all die

 

I don't always use Wikimedia Commons for cover photos, but sometimes you just need an old lady dancing

It's no secret that once we decided Taiwan was our permanent home, we truly meant permanent. We intend to work, build lives, retire and die here just as millions of Taiwanese do, despite not being citizens. For people like us, dual nationality just makes sense. I've talked about this extensively before, and I'll summarize my case again below. 

But first, let's talk about the preliminary comments from Taiwan's Ministry of the Interior (MoI) on Crossroads Taiwan's petition to amend the nationality law and end the country's double standard on who can and cannot obtain a second nationality.

Those comments (translated by me) are a big fat pile o' nothing: 

 

Wu Hsin-te, Chief of the Nationality Administration Section of the Department of Household Affairs of the Ministry of Interior, said "Those with special distinctions and senior professionals can obtain dual nationality. This year's amendment allows senior professionals, who originally had to wait three years before they can apply for this period of residence, to do so in two years.”

Okay Mr. Wu, but that's not very helpful for those of us who are professionals and are skilled in our fields, but do not meet the frankly insane requirements in all but a few fields to be officially deemed "senior" or "special" professionals deserving of a path to dual nationality. 

In education, you have to be a professor. There is an exception for those who've published in "high impact journals" but this is a bit of a joke: who has the time or support to do that without the funding and access provided by universities? I have a Master's and I train Taiwanese teachers in exactly what they need to meet a specific government goal -- Bilingual by 2030 -- which happened to be the brainchild of President Lai Ching-te. I also help Taiwan's businesspeople better engage with international counterparts. I have been a teacher for two decades.

Yet I don't qualify. I'm not "special" or "senior" enough. 

I'd say that I "should" qualify (and I do feel that I do, without shame), but the entire notion of a class system of Deserving Foreigners vs. Garbage Foreigners is ridiculous. It should not exist at all. More on that below, too. 

 

The Ministry of the Interior emphasized that the country has a single nationality system...

 

This is false. Taiwanese can have more than one nationality, and so can the foreigners they deem to be not garbage. The MoI should not lie like this. 

...and the Nationality Law was just revised in May.

So? Revise it again. I don't care what you just did. Fix your problem, don't say it's half-fixed like that's sufficient.

Except for senior professionals such as senior engineers, or clergy and other distinguished persons who have contributed to Taiwan, they do not need to give up their citizenship, they can get ID cards.

Okay, so Taiwan doesn't have a "single nationality" policy. Why lie? 

What I want to know regarding this "single nationality policy" is why they think the double standard is acceptable. Most countries have the same law for everyone, naturalized or born. Either one can have multiple nationalities, or one can't. It's actually fairly rare to allow that privilege for born citizens, the descendants of ROC citizens abroad, and a very few Special Magic Foreigners but no one else. A few countries do this -- South Korea comes to mind -- but most don't. 

The US, for example, doesn't recognize other nationalities their citizens may have, but won't end their citizenship over it (most countries that allow multiple nationalities have such a policy). In fact, a few Americans who don't have ROC/Taiwanese heritage have obtained Taiwanese nationality without renouncing US citizenship.

Japan, on the other hand, has the same rule for everyone regardless of how you became Japanese: you can only be Japanese. If you're caught with another nationality, you either have to give it up or lose Japanese citizenship.

Besides, they think people like me and thousands of others who do work every day that do contribute to the economy, tax revenues and in other ways don't "contribute to Taiwan"?  My training Taiwanese teachers and helping Taiwanese business leaders do their jobs isn't "contributing to Taiwan"? 

Thanks. 

 

The revised law also solves the problem of the status of children born in illegal households. Stateless children can apply for naturalization with the assistance of social welfare agencies and guardians. 

 

That's great. Cool. But it doesn't really help the other mmigrants who have made their lives here but don't have the tools they need to retire in the country they call home. So it's a good start, but completely insufficient. 

Needless to say, it's disappointing. It's a nothingburger. 

And it underscores the completely bonkers caste system of Deserving vs. Garbage. I know there's an argument out there that Taiwan has the right to determine who gets access to dual nationality based on the talent it wants to attract. 

This is a stupid thing to think. 

First, the immigrants Taiwan needs the most are the blue-collar workers, mostly from Southeast Asia, who keep the factories and fishing boats running and take care of the grandparents. The Taiwanese government surely knows this, but doesn't tend to admit it. Without them, the economy would grind to a halt. 

Besides, having "the right" to do something (which Taiwan unarguably has) doesn't mean it's the right thing to do. 

I think what I do matters. I do believe I contribute in my way. However, if I left, Taiwan would survive. I'm white collar, but I am absolutely not as critical to Taiwan's core economic interests as the group who gets paid the least and treated the worst. The group that isn't even under discussion as having a path to dual nationality, even within Crossroads' campaign. 

Unfortunately, Crossroads' strategy is realistic: if the public can see that people like me deserve a path to dual nationality, it should be then a little easier to convince them that  similar path for blue-collar workers won't flood the country with job-takers, and most who come here to work eventually leave, anyway. Those of us who want to stay, including among blue-collar workers, are a smallish slice of the total foreign population.

With people who have ancestors who were ROC citizens having fairly easy access, despite the fact that their families may have no other connection to Taiwan, it's easy to see that Taiwan's preference is still based more on race and politics than actually "attracting the talent" Taiwan needs. The caste system is thus:

1.) People with Chinese (ROC) ancestry, under the assumption that this will make one "loyal" to Taiwan.

How? I cannot say. Loyalty isn't a genetic or race-based trait. I'm not against such people having that right, but can we just admit that it's also just an ethnic preference, like most jus sanguinis citizenship paths? 

2.) Relatively wealthy Westerners, most likely envisioned as "white people" in most Taiwanese government minds, even though not all Westerns are white, and Chinese spouses. 

In fact, Chinese spouses might be in the first group. It's debatable. 

3.) Regular Westerners (like me). White still probably preferred, because racism.

4.) Southeast Asian blue collar workers and most foreign spouses.


So please, please, do not tell me it's about "attracting talent". It's not. Taiwan needs the fourth group the most. But while I'm being hyperbolic when I say I'm considered garbage (I'm more like very nice recycling?), this crucial group is actually treated like garbage. It's not right.

It's all politics and discrimination. An absolute clownshow. Don't even pretend otherwise.

There is an optimistic reading of these comments, however. The Taiwanese government tends not to show its hand even if changes are being considered. It simply won't admit as much until the change is official. 

Take the economic subsidies. When Ma Ying-jeou's government handed out cash, permanent residents were excluded unless they had a local spouse. When we inquired, we were treated rather rudely. The subsidies were for "taxpayers". I am a taxpayer, but was told that being a taxpayer is not sufficient to get the benefits of...being a taxpayer. 

The government lackey who had the absolute stones to say that with a straight face has my eternal emnity. 

But then the COVID vouchers and NT$6,000 tax payback were rolled out under Tsai Ing-wen, and after a brief back-and-forth, permanent residents were included. This is certainly due in part to a different attitude toward foreign residents from different administrations -- Ma's people streamlined some processes for us, but at the end of the day, would never actually consider us part of the fabric of Taiwanese society. 

But it also means that a general attitude shift was afoot. We were rebuffed, but then the system changed.

It's an oft-made observation that the Taiwanese government does things in baby steps. Evolving nationality laws are part of that, and I have it on good authority that Tsai Ing-wen understood the need for them to change. Eventually, someday, Taiwan will probably relinquish the double standard, just as it's slowly fixing its mess in not making marriage equality truly equal. 

And I love Taiwan because here, things do tend to get better.

Here's the thing, though: it's too damn slow. Yes, I want this for Taiwan's own wellbeing -- immigrants are vital to its future. I want it for new generations of immigrants who move to Taiwan. 

But damn it, I also want it for me. And at the pace the government is moving, the change that will make it possible for me to truly call Taiwan home won't come until I'm too old to benefit, or long dead. 

What good is dual nationality, which would make it more possible for us to own a home where we can grow old in Taiwan, if we're 70 when it happens? Who buys their first home at 70? Who can? I'm not angry that it's a step-by-step process. I am very angry that it's going so slowly that I have less and less hope of seeing it in my lifetime. This doesn't just matter in general, it matters specifically to me. 

The only thing that does give me hope is that groups like Crossroads are making an effort. When civic groups get involved, it tends to speed up the pace of change. 

Why do I care so much? As a permanent resident, don't I have access to pension plans, labor insurance and health insurance? 

Yes, but it's not really sufficient. Leaving aside the more abstract desire to vote -- to have a civic voice and representation in the country I call home and would fight for  -- it matters for practical reasons as well. 

After building careers here and contributing to the country through our labor (we hope, anyway), access to the tools we'd need to retire here matter. Permanent residency is usually sufficient, but it does not give us access to everything we'd need to feasibly retire in Taiwan.

Home health aide and long-term care subsidies are out of reach. Although legally foreign residents can buy property in Taiwan, actually getting approved for a mortgage can be a challenge. If approved, we're likely to be asked for an infeasibly large deposit (I frequently hear 40%) and frankly insane interest rates. Programs to ease the burden for first-time homeowners? Once again out of reach. 

And yet, where are we supposed to live when we're old? Landlords don't like to rent to the elderly, but we don't have local family to take us in. 

Why don't we just renounce?

We have obligations in our country of birth that are not easily discharged, such as aging relatives. Post-renunciation resumption of citizenship is not a feasible option for Americans. As above, most other countries have the same rule for born and naturalized citizens, so we resent the double standard. 

More importantly, however, if we renounce, what are we supposed to do when our aging parents might need our care? We're not rich, we can't pay full-time health aides. We can't go back temporarily to be caretakers and not work as well. We just don't have that financial flexibility. 

I thought that Taiwan cared about family responsibility. Filial piety and all that. What is this if not the definition of filial piety, and yet Taiwan doesn't seem to value it at all when it comes from a foreigner. Does it only matter when the aging parents are Taiwanese?

Usually, we love that Taiwan is not like "most other countries". Life here is good. In this particular way, however, Taiwan diverges from the norm and for a country seeking to attract "foreign talent", it's a big fat problem.

The Newest Taiwanese

A long and unclear path

As the November elections neared, the social media posts piled up. Things like "Can't wait to vote for the first time in Taiwan!" and "Voting in my first Taiwanese election!"

A few years ago, I didn't know many dual citizens who were not born Taiwanese, and of them not a single one who could vote. As the shadows grew long on 2022, however, it became clear that something had shifted. Changes to the laws surrounding dual nationality enacted in 2017 were starting to bear some modest fruit: a small but significant minority of people I know were posting last month about how excited they were to vote in a Taiwanese election for the first time.

I was genuinely happy for them, in that friendly envious way that bears no ill will. To me, they represented small dots of light: these friends, for example, don't all come from the same background. Some work in business, some are academics, some in tech, and some do work for the government. Most have indeed acquired dual nationality, although one chose to renounce their original citizenship. Before 2017, there was essentially no path to dual nationality if one had no Taiwanese heritage. Post-naturalization, one could petition to regain their original citizenship, but not all countries grant it (the United States certainly doesn't). Or, finding Jesus and building a life as a missionary was always an option: perhaps as a nonagenarian the government might bestow the honor.

Now, anyone deemed a "foreign senior professional" -- a classification that differs from Gold Card-eligible "foreign special professionals" -- has a pathway to becoming Taiwanese. The eligibility requirements remain restrictive -- perhaps unfairly so -- but at least there is a path.

I thought, with the election well behind us, that it would be interesting to talk to some of these newest citizens about what it was like to acquire citizenship, what challenges they faced and how it felt to vote. Some agreed to have their real names published; others asked to remain anonymous.

Participating in Democracy

The first thing that jumped out from everyone I talked to was a passion for participating in the democratic process. Ben Homnick, formerly a vice president at a technology company in Taiwan, summarized it well: "I think it finally hit home," he said, "when I was walking back from the voting booth, and I realized that I finally have the ability to participate in the political process of the place that I’ve been calling home for more than ten years. Whether or not I agree with the outcome of the election, at least I have some measurable amount of responsibility for what those outcomes are."

Kerim Friedman, a professor at National Donghwa University, said he found personal meaning in voting for the first time. "For me, voting is kind of an important civic ritual," he said. "I’ve watched Taiwan, I came here for the first time in 1991 right after it had just democratized, so watching Taiwan’s transition to democracy has been a major part of my life intellectually and personally, having been here observing it."

"I was in tears," said Uma, who gave up her original nationality. (Uma is a pseudonym; she preferred to remain anonymous.) "I left [my native country] when I was a kid, I've never actually been back during elections." Uma's country of origin doesn't allow absentee voting. "I've always wanted to be part of the democratic process."

Jerome Keating, voting for his first time in Taiwan put it this way, "If you believe in democracy, and care for the place where you live, you want to be part of the process." 

Some voting experiences were more neutral. Another friend, "Ted" (a pseudonym), works in the tech industry. He said he expected voting to "feel like a triumphant rite of passage." But when actually going through with it, he described the process as "largely confusing and empty. Despite spending many hours preparing, there was much that was novel. There were a lot of assumptions they didn't explain -- I didn't realize you couldn't take anything into the booth with you and I didn't realize the city council was FTPT [first past the post] with a multi-member district. The ballot doesn't list party affiliation...even though I prepared, I didn't know the numbers of my candidates, and was a bit lost without the parties [as there was no guide allowed in the voting booth]."

Uma agreed. Although she speaks Mandarin, she believes that "Taiwan needs to have more information for people who don’t speak Chinese. People didn’t know how many council people to vote for, and I wasn’t the only one. I asked how many people to vote for, and they said just one. And I was glad I asked that question."

Friedman described the process as "remarkably quick." He said, "You take all these papers and stamp them and put them in the boxes. I was surprised, I’ve voted in the states. It’s also often in schools in New York City, but I’ve always had to wait on line. There was no line at all, it was just in and out." 

Friedman had no issue as a foreigner voting for the first time. "I twas all very cute and they stamped me, as I was at the counter and they were stamping me, the two women were speaking Chinese and I heard something about foreigners but they were all nice and polite and it was very quick."

Homnick and Uma also described the process as very fast. Uma added that with more and more foreigners gaining the right to vote, election workers didn't appear to be very surprised by her presence. There are guides -- Uma mentioned that there's a guide outside the booths that describes what is a valid or invalid vote, and the boxes where you place the various ballots are all color-coded, and there are people around to tell you what to do. Before the election, all eligible voters receive a newspaper-like bundle describing the candidates, with a picture, party affiliation and space for each to extol their platforms. The same paper is also displayed at the polling place.

However, that doesn't necessarily mean the process will be clear to dual nationals. "One Taiwanese guy tore his up, he was on the news. Two new immigrants form Hong Kong they brought theirs out. They were brought to the police station," Uma said.

Despite some of these issues, the overall feeling was jubilant. "In the US we’re so used to doing this. But inTaiwan [if you can't vote], you feel like you’re a passenger. You’re watching the election with your friends on election night, you’re kind of passive about it. Actually having some skin in the game, it feels different," Homnick observed. 

"I was definitely elated to put my vote in," Keating added.

Becoming 'The Newest Taiwanese'

The actual process of getting Taiwanese citizenship and emotions around acquiring it seemed to influence how these new citizens felt about participating in the 2022 election. 

Ted said he "didn't expect citizenship would change" how he felt or how his life worked. "I just wanted to belong. Boy, was I wrong. I feel like a totally different person. The US has fully become 'the old country'," he said. 

One example is his attitude toward US policies. "I noticed that it made me way more ambivalent," he continued. "I wouldn't say my US politics have changed. I like Millenial socialism in theory, but find actual Millenial socialists a bit much. But it just takes up way less headspace than it used to."

For Ted, the most important change has been his ability to open businesses and protect his partner. "We are unable to marry as his home country doesn't recognize same-sex marriage, so instead of having a marriage, I have a business that sponsors his ARC."

Uma, who gave up her original nationality, said she felt like she was "betraying" her native land, and wished she'd perhaps waited longer to see if she qualified under the new regulations. "We did it because my daughter was graduating from school, and she was going to go to the Netherlands for college. She had a logical argument, she wanted to get Taiwanese nationality so she could travel around Europe freely, and didn’t want to go through the visa process," she said. (Uma's original nationality doesn't usually qualify for visas on arrival). "[My daughter] was under 20, and in Taiwan that’s considered not an adult, so one parent needed to do it with her. So I did it."

Homnick described the process as "bittersweet", pointing out that it feels like only a small step in the right direction.

"In some ways it’s the culmination of 13 years in Taiwan and calling this country my own," he observed. "On the other hand, it’s often a publicity stunt. There's always a press release, and they make the giant ID card. It's like, 'hey look how international we are', without always being super international. And I think it’s great personally, obviously there are benefits to having an ID. But does it really serve the purpose of paving the way for more acceptance of dual citizenship? I think it probably does — any sort of cracks in the long-time policies of excluding most immigrants from citizenship are probably a good thing, even if it’s just getting visibility to starting a conversation."

Ted did not experience the publicity 'circus', however. There was no press release and after some thought, he declined to be interviewed by the media.

Friedman also pointed out the narrowness of the path to dual nationality, but added that there is a logical explanation for it. 

"I’d like to see Taiwan become more multicultural," he said. "The vast majority of foreigners in Taiwan are Southeast Asian workers. So if Taiwan did open [dual nationality to more people], they would be the main beneficiaries. If Taiwan were to shift to becoming more of a Southeast Asian country, and more of an immigrant country the way the US and Europe are more immigrant countries....wherever that’s happened, it’s sparked anti-immigrant backlash mostly sparked by false information and false ideas about who immigrants are and their impact on the economy. Most studies show that immigrants are actually good for the economy and don’t cause rises in crime. But you know Taiwan’s media landscape...and you can imagine how that’s going to be spun by the media."

He went on to emphasize that much of this backlash is sparked by political and media disinformation. "Fearmongering from some politicians and the media are going to be a challenge. So I don’t blame the government for being a little cautious."

In terms of the difficulty of actually acquiring dual nationality, experiences varied quite a bit. All encountered challenges, though some, such as Friedman, found the process smoother than others. Some found the challenges, including significant ones, to be less than expected. Others encountered more difficulties than they'd anticipated. The only universal was that no one's journey was entirely without obstacles.

For Homnick, the whole process took about a year and included an initial rejection. "I applied thinking that I had been a vice president with a tech company for awhile, I’d done some open source projects that had to do with TW as well.  I figure that would be enough...the first time I actually got rejected. They were pretty good about giving feedback, they said, 'we felt you didn’t have enough contributions to Taiwan.' It was good of the committee to give me the feedback, even though I think the standards are ridiculous. So I went back, got a bunch more recommendation letters, and really focused my application on contributions to Taiwan." 

He added that some fields seem to provide easier paths to dual nationality than others. Academia in particular, he said, "seems to be one of the reliable ways to get through the committee. You have to be an associate professor, and if you have that you are pretty much greenlit." 

Ted had a more difficult time of it than either Homnick or Friedman, calling the process an "unparalleled chore." He applied through the Ministry of Science and Technology, and submitted his tech portfolio as proof of contributions to Taiwan. He also noted that one has to have Mandarin language proficiency. 

"[For] the second phase review, my local HRO (Household Registration Office) demanded 39 separate documents, including an FBI background check translated into Chinese, verified by TECRO, and then again by the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, then notarized, then translated, then notarized again," Ted recounted.  The local office rejected the translation twice...after giving them all that, they said that I wasn't qualified. It took the intervention of my new employer, lawyers, the Ministry of Science and Technology and the National Development Council to convince the HRO to forward the application." 

However, he states that he's not resentful about the process. "I actually thought it would be worse," he quipped. 

Uma also faced challenges as a new citizen. Receiving citizenship doesn't necessarily grant all the rights of citizenship immediately, as she found out to her detriment. 

She said, "There’s a lot of paperwork you need to give up your own nationality. After that, it’s better if you don’t travel for a period, maybe a year. You just have a passport but it does not show your ID card [because] you don’t have a household registration. So you don’t have the visa-free entry to anywhere in that year. If you have to travel, you have to wait two years to get your household registration. So we didn’t travel for that year, and I lost a lot of job opportunities by staying. After one year we got the national ID the household registration and everything, the works. [Since then] it's just been like a Taiwanese citizen [for me]."

While Homnick noted that gathering paperwork was the most time-consuming part of the process, Friedman emphasized that it comes in two steps, and one is smoother than the other. 

"The first step is to get approved as a special foreign professional," he said. "Once that comes through you are allowed to apply for citizenship without having to give up your passport. That’s fairly simple and straightforward. The first part is occupation specific, and each occupation has their own procedures.

As a professor, I go through the Ministry of Education....The fact that you’ve already been given tenure is proof that you’re a special foreign professional. For a filmmaker, unless you’ve won an Academy Award or something. Some of these professions are made for it, like basketball players, or if you have a Plum Blossom APRC [which] is already proof that you are a special foreign professional. There are certain disciplines where it’s much easier to do it than others."

"It’s a little arbitrary," he continued. "But if you happen to be lucky enough to fit into one of these slots — priest, basketball player…then it’s not that hard. Usually if people have problems, it’s because their institutions weren’t supportive of them. I think as time goes on, more and more institutions [will be] willing to do the process."

Uma agreed, saying that "I used to think you have to be 90 years old and build 90 churches to get citizenship, and that’s too hard. Even now they’re not very realistic. Even now, people who’ve really contributed and who really deserve it are falling through the cracks. It’s getting better, Taiwan is like that." 

Homnick added that it seemed as though someone who didn't have specific institutional backing would need to "win a Nobel Prize" to qualify.

Who's a Foreigner? Who Isn't?

Everyone had something to say about how Taiwan regarded them in the context of being newly, officially local, both in general and in the context of last month's election. Most didn't cite ongoing discrimination, however, it bears mentioning that of the people I interviewed, only one was a person of color. 

Friedman said that when he went to vote, "the two women were speaking Chinese and I heard something about foreigners but they were all nice and polite," and that more than voting itself, talking to others about becoming a citizen might have some kind of impact. "But it's hard to know," he admitted. He also noted that he talks about how perceptions of him as an "American Taiwanese" are likely to be quite different than Taiwanese who gain US citizenship and become "Taiwanese Americans". 

In line with Friedman's earlier point that it would benefit Taiwan to be more multicultural, Homnick noted that while he does have neighbors who will sometimes complain or assume the "foreigner" is at fault, the doormen of this building will stand up for him, especially now that he is a citizen. "They'll stand up when people say 'waiguoren'," he said, "they'll say 'he's not a foreigner!'" 

"It's going to take awhile to get over that stuff. Having people who break conceptions of what a Taiwanese person looks like are probably good in the long run. And I think that’s really in the benefit of Taiwan in the long run as well. You look at China which has tried so hard to become this ethnonationalist state, anything Taiwan can do to set themselves apart from that is a good thing." 

Uma described her experience when voting: "I think there are more and more foreign faces with ID cards now, so they’re not that surprised. First they said, 'do you have an ID?' I said yes. I had my ID in hand so they understood I was a citizen."

"I no longer care if people mislabel me as a foreigner, or try to speak English when Chinese would be easier...I have nothing more to prove, but seeing my partner face so much discrimination is heartbreaking. As a foreigner, I always felt like citizens had so much untapped power, but now as a citizen I feel this kind of surreal helplessness. I'm safe, but I cannot extend that safety to others," Ted added.

Homnick also noted discrimination against Southeast Asian immigrants in Taiwan, citing a bulletin in his building requiring families to sequester any domestic workers in their apartments during the pandemic, and not let them leave. "That's definitely illegal," he clarified. "I said, 'if you don't take this down I'm calling the police." (The notice was taken down.) 

While voting and being part of the political process is the most meaningful benefit Homnick says he's derived, the one he feels on a daily basis is having a regular Taiwan identity card. "The biggest quality of life improvement is having the number that works on websites, he said. "Which is funny because they said they were going to solve this issue by standardizing the ID numbers, but their solution didn't fix anything!"

Homnick also noted that access to government subsidies and other services is a major benefit, but that he's never tried to get something like a mortgage. "Some things haven’t changed," he added. "I still get called laowai, waiguoren, people still ask for an ARC. I went to Chunghwa Telecom to renew a contract and they still wanted to see an ARC, and I needed to explain that I don’t have [one]. There’s still some discrimination by banks. It’s more about being born outside of Taiwan."


The November Election

One thing struck me as I talked to this group of new Taiwanese with many divergent experiences: the extent to which they agreed on the November election. 

"Politically, I have way less patience for the KMT than I used to. I was never a tankie, but I was educated by them and felt they had good points on some issues [such as nuclear power]. But I'm not willing to entertain them because I don't trust them to handle China, and if they don't get that through their heads, the party and country will suffer. The Communists might not allow me to leave the way a foreigner could," Ted observed.

Homnick is similarly worried. "I am a lot more wary of China," he said. "I don’t think I’ll ever go back to China. I think the national security law probably applies to me now. Even if it doesn’t, it’s not worth taking the risk. What if they start arbitrarily detaining Taiwan citizens? What happens to citizens if there is some kind of conflict?"

"I didn't have a lot invested in who was elected to the city council," Friedman said. "but I really cared a lot about the referendum [to lower the voting age to 18], and I’m very upset about that. I didn’t expect it to win. I was for it [but] I was shocked by now disinterested and now unmotivated people were to make sure that it passed...for me, it seemed an important measure in terms of Taiwanese democracy. And it’s again something I’ve talked about with my students. I have had students who said they thought they weren’t mature enough to vote. I showed them a map of how in other countries, 16 or 17 year olds might [have voting rights].  'Do you really think you’re less mature?'"

He continued, "Then they started thinking, maybe you have a point. Even young people seem to buy into [the attitude that they shouldn't be voting.] I found that very depressing, I think it’s important for young people to become civically engaged and start participating in the process. Politics shouldn’t be left to just old people either."

Homnick agreed, saying he was "disappointed but not surprised" regarding the election results. "I feel like I don’t have a good understanding of why people vote the way they do. I’m not sure I have a good understanding in the US either. I don’t see why anyone with Chiang in their name is still relevant these days. [My girlfriend said] her friends said they voted for him because he's handsome, or their parents told them to. [But] if you want to pick the most handsome candidate, you have the right to. No matter how I feel about it, it’s your choice. I was disappointed about the referendum on voting age. A lot of the justifications for people voting against that: '18 year olds are not mature enough to make decisions like that.' Well they’re not going to be if you treat them like children!"

Friedman tended to agree regarding the election of Chiang Wan-an as Taipei mayor. "It's hard for me to know how much of a factor it played, it's obvious that Wan-an is cashing in on the Chiang name, which is weird that that would have resonance for people. One argument is 'well, they didn't really vote for him for that reason', [but] the fact that he chose that name didn't hurt him either. It's like in the Philippines with the Marcos family getting re-elected. The parallels are interesting."

"I’m really sad the referendum thing didn’t go through," Uma concurred. "The voting age should be 18. They’re saying there wasn’t proper education about it. There might have been some misinformation as well. People were saying that older people thought that people aged 18-20 could also run for elections as a candidate, and older people didn’t like that, so they voted against it."

Not everyone expressed a specific opinion on candidates, but Uma offered one perspective: "Chen had a town hall for foreigners, when he started [campaigning], when he first announced, and I got to go. And I interacted with him and…I watched him for 900 days. I was very excited to have the possibility of being mayor. So that was quite sad." 

In the end, Friedman and Uma offered up perspectives that perhaps summarized the feeling of participating in a democratic process as citizens rather than foreign residents. 

Although Friedman described voting as "a little anticlimactic", he didn't mean it in a negative way. "For democracy to be kind of boring is a good thing," he said. 

In fact, Friedman pointed to social movements as another vital part of civic engagement and the democratic process. "When the Sunflower movement happened, the students we had comment to university were very politicized. Since [then], that faded into the background, young people seemed less politically involved. It’s interesting, because my general feeling is that the quality of education is improving in Taiwan, and the quality of college students is improving, [but they seem] less politicized...Wage justice, environmental justice -- there are some, but broadly speaking people tend to be more focused on their personal career. Social movements invigorate people and get people involved in politics."

"Because when we say Taiwan is a beacon for democracy in Asia, it’s like the front line against an autocratic country," Uma concluded. "I feel like I’m part of it. And I’m not sure whether it excites me or scares me. Family back home, [ask] 'aren’t you scared of living in Taiwan?" Because the media really hypes up the whole China thing, [such as] when Pelosi came and [China's military drills]. I said no...it’s just like part of our daily lives. It’s something we’re used to...Taiwan is upholding this light of democracy,  and Taiwan is dealing with that on a daily basis. Being part of the voting processes [and] making sure they don’t sell Taiwan out to China is an important part of that." 

Permanent residency for foreign blue-collar workers: the good, the bad and the political

Migrante Taiwan at the 2017 Labor Day protest -- note that they're asking for home care workers to be covered under the Labor Standards Act, not permanent residency

The Ministry of Labor recently announced a path -- if you can call it that -- for foreign blue-collar workers to gain permanent residency. This has been a long time in the making: the ministry has been talking about this since at least 2015, and lawmakers have been discussing it for at least a year. 

I initially called the announcement "fantastic news", but honestly, it's only fantastic in that the gate to even begin a journey to permanent residency has been firmly shut to foreign blue-collar workers until now. On ICRT Donovan Smith said the door has been opened just slightly, more as a signal than as an actual practical policy to help such workers gain permanent residency. I'd put it similarly: the new rules provide a gatekeeper who will unlock the gate for a lucky few who can answer his riddles three. 

In other words, the rules are so Byzantine and unachievable that they will apply to approximately zero people. Under the new guidelines, foreign blue collar labor can apply for permanent residency after five years if they have an Associate's degree or some sort of technical or professional certification, along with earning a minimum monthly salary that is about NT$3,000/month above the average for such jobs.

By the end of that, there's an even higher minimum salary requirement (about NT$50,000/month) which approaches what many white-collar workers make in Taiwan -- including foreign white-collar labor. I'm not sure if that requirement is for both pathways.

Even Taiwanese with university degrees might not get entry-level offers much higher than that, so it's deluded to think employers, who recruit foreign labor for blue-collar work through the deeply corrupt brokerage system, are going to do so.

Another option is to work for 6 years in the same industry and be classified as "intermediate skilled workers", which then kicks off a 5-year wait for a total of 11 years. 

Such a salary is unattainable by most blue-collar workers, foreign and Taiwanese alike and creates other hurdles: it's not uncommon to come to Taiwan with a job in, say, fishing, and then switch categories to factory work. Some fields pay better than others, and while all are exploitative toward foreign labor to a degree, some are worse than others (fishing is among the worst, though domestic work, often done by women, is rife with abuse -- including, occasionally, sexual assault.) In other words, some workers change industries to make more money or find work they prefer. Others do so to escape exploitative or abusive situations.

Forcing workers to choose between changing industries and having their time in Taiwan count toward permanent residency is cruel, in a system which is already far too cruel. Not that it matters much, as almost nobody will qualify under the current requirements. 

What's more, it's rather discordant to give foreign blue-collar workers a path to permanent residency -- however impossible actually attaining it may be -- but still not include many them in the Labor Standards Act. That's right -- foreign home care workers are still not covered unless they're from Thailand, because the Thai government requires it. Workers in other industries are, but it's extremely common for employers to simply, well, ignore that.

For more of an idea of what life in Taiwan is like for foreign blue-collar labor, I highly recommend reading Joe Henley's Migrante. 

And before I get into this further, I suggest listening to Donovan Smith and Sean Su on ICRT's Taiwan This Week. They cover the issue nicely, and I will recap what they've pointed out below. 

But first, it's important to point out what foreign workers themselves seem to be saying about this. It comes up about a third of the way through in the 2/18/22 episode, Putting Medigen on the Map. I don't speak Tagalog, Cebuano or any of the Bisayan languages but the commentary is pretty clear in translation. So what are they saying about it?

Many say that the change doesn't mean much until salaries increase so that more people will benefit from or at least qualify for the new pathway. Some say their pay is as low as NT$17,000 a month -- how would they ever reach the minimum threshold? Several say that it would have been a better move to first include domestic/home workers in the Labor Standards Act, an issue which has been strongly campaigned for by migrant worker groups for some time. 

Some call it "useless" -- "just work [in Taiwan], save some money and go home. It's hard to care for old people anyway." One person joked that they hoped to qualify in 20 years. Others straight-up call it "false hope" or "tiring."

"It's like passing through the eye of a needle," one comment read. "You'll still suffer, there are a lot of countries [to work in], just apply to another one." In fact, many pointed out that this is why more workers go to Hong Kong (although foreign workers are just as exploited in Hong Kong, the pay is usually better) or other countries in Asia. 

"Just extend the number of years we can stay, we don't need permanent residency," one person said. Many had something to say about the low salaries on offer in Taiwan.

It goes on like this -- a debate on the same page about including home care workers in the Labor Standards Act got hundreds of replies (with no disagreement I could find). The permanent residency announcements did not even reach 50 comments each, and I struggled to find a single person unequivocally supporting the move. Not everyone on these threads was dismissive of the idea, but almost nobody thought it would be a real possibility for them or actually address the issues they face.

That brings me back to the good, the bad and the political. 

As Donovan pointed out on ICRT, this is how the Taiwanese government operates when it comes to foreigners. They open up the door a sliver, and it's not particularly helpful -- but the door is then open, so the next move is a little easier to make because it's building on something that came before. Eventually, the regulations reach the point where something useful is actually provided to the foreigners in question.

The same thing happened with white collar labor: first it was difficult to even get a visa to teach English in Taiwan. Then, work visas were possible but permanent residency wasn't for all but a select few. Now, permanent residency is fairly easy and the process streamlined, and for certain people it can be gained in just three years instead of the usual five. With dual citizenship, the door remained firmly closed but all for a few aging missionaries. Then it opened a slice, just a few years ago, and helps very few people (though I know someone who obtained citizenship that way). It certainly doesn't help me: the job I would need as an educator in my field to qualify for dual nationality does not meaningfully exist in Taiwan. 

This could be for political reasons: Sean noted that an entire community tried to kick out its Southeast Asian residents. Years ago, I passed a protest on the bus, where people were waving signs saying "foreign labor go home" in Mandarin, and I knew they weren't talking about people like me. In my neighborhood, I had a few confrontations over racist signage that admonished people not to litter in big-font Indonesian, and then an itty bitty Mandarin translation. Of course, my Indonesian neighbors generally don't litter. I'm often up late enough to see who does -- Taiwanese teenagers. 

In other words, there might be opposition from enough voters to matter if these changes happened quickly. Few are likely to notice if it's done slowly. 

It could also be for legislative reasons. I once asked Freddy Lim about immigration -- many of the people who worked on the documentary about him are foreigners living in Taiwan who want dual nationality. He indicated support for the idea, but pointed out that a lot of more conservative legislators don't. So, change comes slowly because if huge steps are taken all at once, a backlash would be far more likely -- however unfair it may be.

My experience as a white professional in Taiwan differs profoundly from a blue-collar Southeast Asian immigrant here. But the legislative mindset seems to follow some of the same slow-moving currents -- although the benefits always come to people like me far earlier, and certainly that's unfair. 

The point is, it's not necessarily wrong to do it this way. There are reasons why it happens. And I understand that the government makes these rules because they think they're doing what's best for Taiwan. I don't agree that they are -- Taiwan benefits from immigration and it knows it -- but that's what they believe. 

However, I tend to think of these things at the human level. 

The result is that such processes take decades. Decades mean a generation or more. That means eventually the rules might change and the gates might open. Eventually the riddles three will become the riddle one, and some time after that that riddle will be fairly easy to answer. But in that canyon of time, one or more generations of immigrants to Taiwan will never be able to benefit from a fairer system. They'll grow old and die, choose to leave or be forced to leave before it can help them.

The turnover is likely much higher for the foreign blue-collar community. They're limited to 12-14 years in Taiwan unless they get permanent residency (still unlikely), switch to a white-collar job (possible for some, but also unlikely) or marry someone who can give them residency (reasonably common). 

By the time the wheels of political change turn far enough to meaningfully help foreign workers, the ones currently here will already be gone. I know it's not common for governments to consider it from that perspective, but perhaps they should. 

And perhaps they should ask the actual foreigners these new rules would affect, and see what they really want. I bet they'll find the answer is better labor conditions, higher salaries, the ability to stay longer (perhaps forever, but perhaps not) and to include home workers in the Labor Standards Act. Perhaps some would want a path to permanent residency too: I don't know, I can't speak for them. But anyone can read the commentary -- it's not hard.

All of those are possible, but they have immediate consequences and will receive immediate backlash from employers and brokers alike. How dare you force us to stop abusing people and apply the law to every worker! If we didn't exploit workers, our business might be somewhat less profitable! Do you think I got this Mercedes Benz by paying workers fairly? 

This would also help Taiwan. Despite the sluggish legislative response to these long-standing issues, they must know foreign blue-collar labor is vital to the country, that other Asian countries offer better pay at the very least, and that the human rights record for treatment of Southeast Asian workers in Taiwan is abysmal, tarnishing Taiwan's reputation as a whole. They must know, as Donovan and Sean pointed out on ICRT, that if they were serious about the New Southbound Policy that these would be the obvious moves to make.

Still -- that is what the Ministry of Labor would do if it actually wanted to help foreign blue collar workers. It would ask them what they need and want, and then...y'know, do that.

Recent immigration reforms in Taiwan are a mixed bag

Stop. 

The cabinet has just approved a new draft amendment that would relax requirements for foreign professionals coming to Taiwan, including those enrolled in postgraduate programs in Taiwan.

As an immigrant myself, it makes sense to be generally in favor of streamlined immigration requirements. But I’m ambivalent about this. 

On their face, the relaxed rules are fine. I don’t see any good reason to make foreigners wait six months for National Health Insurance coverage if they’re committed to being here for at least a year, and it’s smart to encourage talent cultivated by Taiwan — graduate students at Taiwanese universities — to stay here. 

The enhanced tax incentives, immediate NHI coverage and shortened permanent residency eligibility period apply to “foreign special professionals” — that magic, golden class of foreigners who glitter all the more in comparison to everyone else, who is apparently garbage.

I'm not at all sure that these are the issues that would tip a "special" professional towards coming to Taiwan if they had doubts, with the possible exception of the NHI coverage, as health care is likely a major consideration when making such decisions.

I’m also concerned that these changes target the wrong issues and add yet another layer of elitism to already stratified regulations. While the government has moved quickly on “foreign special professionals”, they neither invest in the foreigners who are already here and committed to Taiwan, nor do they address the horrific human rights abuses and poor working conditions endured by foreign blue-collar workers, most of whom come from Southeast Asia.  

The amendment would also relax requirements for foreign teachers coming to teach subject classes at schools for the children of foreign professionals. Frankly, I do think some  requirements for working in Taiwanese schools can reasonably be relaxed — ask me for examples if you care. However, the lack of specificity in the announcement is jarring: what requirements will change, exactly? The students are children of foreign professionals, who all presumably speak English already, how does this do anything to support the Bilingual by 2030 plan? 

A friend of mine has been having trouble in one such “bilingual school for the children of foreign professionals”, dealing with teachers who create unprofessional materials including a “textbook” that consisted of printed-out Wikipedia pages. Such schools need more professional teaching expertise, not less.

The original draft called for graduates of “Top 500” universities to be allowed to work in Taiwan without the requisite 2 years’ related experience or a Master’s degree. However, that clause was dropped.

That’s a shame, as I supported it. Though I have no idea how “top 500” would be determined (most ranking systems are questionable), it would ensure that prospective immigrants won’t feel they need to teach English to come here. I am in favor of any regulatory change that reduces the non-serious people in my field. If they’re better at doing something else and don’t want to be in a classroom, let them, and leave teaching to people who actively choose it — even if they require training and experience, as I once did. 

So, it’s disappointing that the most promising clause in the amendment was dropped. What’s left is...okay. I’m not against it, but I’m not impressed.

As someone who went through the 5-year wait for her APRC, I have no particular desire to force that on newcomers. And yet from my experience, a five-year wait is an entirely reasonable requirement, especially now that it’s easier to change jobs. I suppose it's a positive change for those with graduate degrees from Taiwanese universities, however: student visas don't count towards the permanent residency clock, but Taiwan would be wise to incentivize such people to stay.

I have no opinion on tax incentives, but it sure feels like offering more benefits to the already-privileged. And everyone should have faster access to NHI, not just Special Magic Wizard Foreigners. 

I can’t help but compare this to the very minor recent improvement to working conditions for foreign blue-collar workers. Starting this month, most of these workers are now being provided with work documents in their native languages as well as Mandarin, rather than Mandarin only. 

That’s great, but frankly, I’m shocked that that wasn’t already the case (and embarrassed that I hadn’t realized it wasn’t)! How did take until the Year of Our Good Lord Baby Jesus in Goddamn Heaven Twenty-Twenty-Fucking-One to make this happen? Seriously?! 

It’s disheartening that the government can move so swiftly to accommodate the already-privileged, but can’t seem to get basic human rights sorted out for the vast majority of immigrants to Taiwan.

You can whine all you want about how it’s the Taiwanese government’s prerogative to “attract” certain “talent”, but the cold fact is that Taiwan needs these workers to keep the economy running way more than they need some tech bro. The fishing, the factory work, the elder care — those jobs are at the solar plexus of Taiwanese society, not whatever Craigstopher McJuggerton from Indiana will be doing here. I will freely admit that what they do is more vital to Taiwan than what I do, as well. 

It's not that I think the Splendiferous Glitter Foreigners shouldn't be welcome in Taiwan. Of course, they should -- but it's already pretty easy for them to come here. The people at risk of indentured servitude or outright slavery perhaps have more pressing concerns.

Finally, it annoys me as a long-termer that the government still seems to be unaware that there are foreign professionals who are already here, who are already committed to Taiwan, and what most of us seem to want is a realistic shot at dual nationality. 

At the risk of sounding like a big baby whinerpants, I’ve recently become aware that the path to dual nationality for someone like me is even more narrow than the existing one. For an educator, the requirement is to become an assistant professor. However, for language teaching professionals, there are essentially no such positions. The very few exceptions I’ve met merely prove the rule. Were I to get a PhD, the most I might reasonably hope to achieve in Taiwanese academia is an annually-renewed “lecturer” contract and very little access to research funding. Even that is rare: most new hires are low-paid adjuncts. The language teachers who are professors are generally Literature or Linguistics specialists who’ve been asked to teach language classes. 

So, it doesn’t matter what I do. I’ll never be a “professor” in the sense that the government requires. That job simply doesn’t meaningfully exist in Taiwan in my field. And yet, that is the requirement to apply for dual nationality. I could “publish in major international journals” (most likely without research funding), but I’ve been too busy training the teachers the government says it wants to cultivate!  

All this despite the government saying repeatedly that it wants to elevate the quality of language teaching in Taiwan, and therefore ostensibly wanting people like me as part of Bilingual by 2030. 

I’m not against these new rules. I wouldn’t even call my ambivalence “jealousy” because I’ve managed to carve out a good life here, get my APRC, and cultivate a career I’m passionate about. Hell, I went to two “Top 500” universities (whatever that means). I have NHI and neither need nor want tax incentives. It is a little depressing to see how pointless it would be to get a PhD for career-related reasons, but that’s a personal issue. 

Rather, the ambivalence stems from annoyance: the relaxed regulations aren’t a bad thing, but they don’t do much to the kinds of immigration reform Taiwan actually needs.  

Let's talk about immigration and quadruple standards (again)

An exhibit at the former Japanese Naval Guesthouse in Taipei, now an art gallery, featuring work by Taiwanese artists alongside artifacts from South and Southeast Asia.


I was recently quoted extensively in this Hong Kong Free Press article about the ongoing fight for dual nationality in Taiwan. I think overall the piece is quite good. 

The article covers some important points: even people born here to parents who don't have Chinese or Taiwanese ancestry can't get dual nationality. There is simply no pathway. Until just a few years ago that meant potentially being forced to leave the only country you've ever called home because there was no visa available. Now, that issue's been somewhat addressed by allowing such children to get permanent residency. Other streamlining has occurred, which helps, but still doesn't -- and can't -- address many key issues. 

We can't vote, usually get turned down for anything requiring a credit line, and aren't eligible for any number of benefits that will likely grow more necessary as we age (a lot of senior citizen benefits are not available to us regardless no matter how long we've paid taxes). Our ability to be fully included on the labor insurance pension plan was only recently instated, as well. 

However, there are a few things from my interview that didn't make it in, and I'd like to discuss them here.

It's been pointed out that the piece ignores the Southeast Asian community, and yes, it does. I brought up the issue of foreign blue-collar labor, not because I think I can speak for anyone, but because I was being interviewed. That segues into my first point.

Many people note the "double standard" of Taiwan's nationality laws: most countries either allow everyone or no one to have multiple nationalities. In fact, it's a quadruple standard.

People with the right ancestry can have multiple nationalities without issue. People with so-called "elite" jobs can get dual nationality. People like me can get permanent residency but not dual nationality. And treated worst of all, blue-collar foreign workers (who make up a large percentage of the Southeast Asian immigrant community) have no access to permanent residency, nor do labor and residency laws protect them adequately. 

This is both racist and classist on the part of the Taiwanese government. Although there are explanations for why the piece focused on APRC holders, it would have been good to include a section on the extra barriers that exist for most immigrants to Taiwan, with a related interview. 

My second point is related: it creates a system where your human worth is tied entirely to your job. But, as Preston points out in the article, being a good citizen is about more than what job you do, and it's a bit of a straitjacket to insist that "worthy" people must hold a narrow range of positions: 

“They’re using it as a rewards system....It’s basically a very exclusive club, but there’s more to good citizens than just being an elite member of society."

It stifles the sorts of contributions that may be good for Taiwan, but don't come with a specific title attached. 

It's also a reminder to those of us who have APRCs that consistently advocating for and supporting immigrant communities with less privilege is important. 

The truth is, even if I get a PhD someday, I don't particularly want to be a professor -- the job I would need to qualify. I think my personal contribution is more impactful as a teacher trainer, because I work with local teachers, who can then do what they think is best with their professional development in their context. 

The usual comeback to this is that "the government chose to incentivize the sort of people it wants to immigrate". Okay, but that's still a "you are only worth your job title" attitude, and in any case, the government has also been saying that it wants qualified teachers and teacher trainers for it's EMI/CLIL-based initiative to improve English language proficiency. In other words, I am exactly the sort of person they say they want. Beyond that, while the government may not say they want blue-collar labor, such labor is vital to Taiwan and they know it.

Another rejoinder I often hear is that Taiwan is a "monoculture", it's not a place where anyone from anywhere could potentially come to call themselves Taiwanese. I will leave aside the "being Taiwanese" aspect, because even if I get dual nationality someday, I don't intend to call myself that. I do think the term still has cultural connotations that just don't apply to me. 

There are two things wrong with the "monoculture" argument. First, the original citizenship law was written in China in the 1920s. It was never intended to apply to just Taiwan, and certainly wasn't tailored to or even appropriate for any concept of Taiwan as a nation. Now, the vast majority of Taiwanese either identify solely as Taiwanese, or prioritize Taiwanese identity. There is a distinct sense of a unique Taiwanese culture, heritage and history, separate from China. As Kerim noted: 

As a researcher of Taiwanese indigenous culture and languages, Friedman said there was also an ideological reason for allowing more foreigners to hold dual citizenship. “I would very much like to see Taiwan move away from the ethno-nationalistic view that citizenship in Taiwan is associated with being Chinese… I would like to see more diverse kinds of Taiwanese people.”

“I think Taiwan’s future as an independent country also depends on de-linking Taiwanese identity from ‘Chinese-ness’… So as a personal act, becoming a Taiwanese citizen myself is a step in that direction,” he said.

If descendants of the Chinese diaspora who have never even visited Taiwan, whose ancestors may have never visited either (or only stopped here briefly after leaving China in the 1940s) are eligible for "ROC" nationality -- something I don't begrudge, by the way -- then it's not about that distinct Taiwanese culture. It's about race, and specifically being 'from China'. But Taiwan doesn't identify as part of China! 

So, is being Taiwanese something separate from being Chinese, or not? If not, then why is the ancestral requirement paramount? If so, how does that square with what polls say about Taiwanese identity? 

Creating a pathway to nationality for who have built a life in Taiwan despite their ancestry can create a foundation for a nation that exists as a civic partnership rather than an ethno-state and cement a national identity distinct from China. It helps Taiwan move away from difficult, tired and frankly outdated arguments -- ethnic nationalism is so twentieth century! (Even with places like Tibet and East Turkestan, I don't think they deserve independence because they are not Han Chinese. I think they deserve it because the Chinese government treats them like crap.) 

In short, a pathway not based on bloodline contributes to a national ethos that makes sense and is consistent with the sort of country Taiwan says it wants to be. Some may fear an erosion of national identity, but out of over half a million foreign residents, only a fraction intend to stay permanently, and it's likely not all of those would go for dual nationality. In other words, those who want this pathway are already here, and for any newcomers the process would likely take around a decade: the number I hear mentioned most often is 5 years post-APRC, which itself takes at least five years. It wouldn't likely create a flood of newcomers, and I don't think Taiwanese identity is so weak that people who've stayed a decade could possibly threaten it. 

The second problem with the 'monoculture' argument is that historically it just isn't true. Taiwan has always been an international crossroads, and has seen waves of settlers, colonizers and immigrants, who generally weren't welcome at first (and some of whom did great damage -- and yes, I'm looking at powerful members of the KMT diaspora). Everyone with ancestral ties to China -- that is, most of the population -- is descended from settlers. More recently, intercultural families, often with a mother from Southeast Asia, are common in Taiwan. I've been too busy with work to find good data on this, but here's a 2010 article that put the number at one in ten Taiwanese children with a foreign parent, down from one in seven in the early 2000s. 

What happens to the children and grandchildren of these waves of immigrants? Honestly...they come to identify as Taiwanese. They adapt to local culture, and local culture adapts to them. 

I don't ever expect to be considered 'the same' as a local, and I doubt I could fully assimilate if I wanted to. I can't deny that my race and the privilege that comes with it as well as the culture I was born into create differences that I doubt can be fully bridged. However, this is my home. Period. 

There's one final point worth making: the 'social consensus' argument. As non-voters, we can't force the government to do anything, nor can we force the public to agree with this vision of Taiwan that includes us. 

But do we have to? Most Taiwanese who ask me if I have citizenship are shocked to learn it's not available to me without an unconscionable sacrifice (the ability to return to care for aging family in the US should I need to). I doubt most are even aware that the quadruple standard exists. How can society be against something it doesn't even realize is an issue?

I do worry that one of the issues is a willingness to consider people like me for dual nationality, but not the people who are hurt the most by the quadruple standard -- the Southeast Asian foreign worker community. That will have to be addressed in the coming years.

The government could do something about all of this. They could end these pointless calculations of 'worthiness' based on one's job. All I can say is that I hope, in my lifetime, that they do. 

Immigration and racism in Taiwan: it's not about who you are when you come, but who you become after you arrive

Silhouettes of a visitor and a foreign resident in Taiwan

Perhaps an explosive title, but hear me out. I'm going to talk mostly about Taiwan in this post, but the ideas I want to express can be applied to more or less any country (there may be a few exceptions that I'm not aware of  - but by and large this is a global problem). Otherwise, let's just jump right in.

In Taiwan, it's fairly easy for professionals to immigrate and gain permanent residency, at least compared to much of the rest of the world. If you are a professional with at least two years' experience in your field or a Master's degree in any field (which has to be a face-to-face program and in some cases, excludes part-time programs) and someone will hire you, you can come to Taiwan with few problems. If you stay for five years, you can get permanent residency. That's actually not bad by global standards. It's much harder to get a visa to work in most Western countries, and permanent residency (e.g. a green card) can take ages. Of course, some are easier than others.

But it is discriminatory - if you're from a family that is middle class or wealthy, you're more likely to have access to the education you need to get hired. You're more likely to speak an international language (such as English, though for Taiwan, Mandarin is a huge help), because you had access to that same education which probably included it. You probably also come from a worldlier 'family culture' that would have encouraged knowing such a language: families where parents and relatives speak a foreign language are more likely to have offspring who also grow up to speak that language.

So, off the bat, any sort of points-based or 'professional' based visa system is automatically classist, because mostly people born into certain social classes have the access to the education and training they need to get hired and obtain a visa in a country like Taiwan (or Australia, or the US, or...etc.)

If you come from a 'developed' country, many (or most) of which are majority-white for historical reasons that are deeply unfair, you are far more likely to be born into such a family. What is the likelihood of, say, a European being born into circumstances that would allow them these advantages, compared to, say, someone from Southeast Asia outside Singapore? A lot greater. So what are your chances of meeting visa requirements calibrated to attract 'professionals' if you already come from a developed (and therefore more likely - though not necessarily - majority white) country? Comparatively speaking, how likely are you to be able to meet those same requirements if you come from a developing country that is almost certainly not white? Anecdotal evidence does not count. "I'm white but my life was tough" does not count - that's not statistical likelihood. "I'm from Vietnam but my family was rich" is also not statistical likelihood. On average, what are your chances?

Since race intersects with class - the color line is the power line is the poverty line - and you are simply more likely to be from a privileged background if you are white - such a system also gives an unfair advantage to people who are white. There are exceptions for sure, but again, we're talking averages here.

In Taiwan's case, I simply don't care if the goal is to attract certain kinds of professionals, in part because doing so is simply inherently classist (and therefore racist) - and that is exactly how Taiwan's immigration system works, both in terms of getting visas to come here, getting permanent residency, and getting citizenship. If you qualify for a professional visa, permanent residency is fairly easy, but if you come here to study - say, you are one of the Southeast Asian students that Taiwan hopes to attract - that doesn't count, and it can be difficult to transition. If you are a blue-collar worker, there's no path at all. To be a citizen, you have to be even more 'qualified', which probably means coming from an even wealthier background, or have 'Chinese ancestry' (which is a law that's obliquely about race).

You can come here and seek a better life, but probably only if your previous life was comparatively privileged, and you can stay forever, but you're probably already really privileged if qualify just isn't a good look.

I also believe that it doesn't actually achieve Taiwan's goals. The birthrate is falling, and while I don't necessarily think "we must unceasingly increase our population so the young can support the old" is a good long-term plan - Taiwan's easily habitable areas are already densely populated and there is finite space and resources - the best way to ensure population stability is to loosen immigration requirements. A lot of these immigrants will marry and have children locally, which is a huge bonus for Taiwan. Not just  professionals: everyone.

In addition, I'm not at all convinced that the visa requirements and citizenship, plum blossom and gold card requirements actually meet Taiwan's needs. Taiwanese media routinely talks about the need to train more vocational workers, there is an oversupply of local workers for white-collar jobs (which is one reason wages are low, though not the only one), and with a low birthrate, Taiwan's labor force depends on immigration. Yes, this is true even despite the brain drain due to low wages and stressful, borderline-tyrannical office culture. And yet, it's especially true for blue-collar workers, because local vocational training is not particularly good and not highly-respected.

It would simply be smarter and truly meet Taiwan's needs, then, to relax rules for blue-collar immigrants, not just white-collar ones. So why have white collar workers been specifically prioritized? (That's a rhetorical question. The answers are racism and classism.)

And, of course, that's not even getting into what white collar workers Taiwan actually needs compared to whom it is trying to attract. With an initiative to become "bilingual by 2030", you'd think they'd want more qualified teachers and teacher trainers who can train up newly-hired local and foreign teachers, and yet for the education sector, only "associate professors", not regular teachers, qualify for dual nationality. That makes no sense at all.

And finally, it's simply the right thing to do. A place - whether that's a country, region or city - prospers when it is open to everyone seeking a better life, and the drawbacks are few. Yes, an influx of labor may cause short-term drops in wages, but those tend to recover. Yes, increased multiculturalism can cause friction, but it doesn't have to be that way, and the advantages of being exposed to people whose backgrounds and worldviews are unlike your own outweigh the drawbacks. Plus, it's a super great way to not be racist! They bring talent and creativity as well as hard work. They open businesses, get married, start families. They fill needs and niches in society. They matter, even if they don't come with a pre-fab education or specific work experience.

In other words, it's not about who you are when you come. Or it shouldn't be. It's who you become after you arrive. 

I want to insert a little story about how I came here and taught English with very few qualifications (some teaching experience in a variety of settings, from children to adults, from monolingual to multilingual, in the US and outside of it, both English and native-speaker literacy, but no formal training.) I want to talk about how the only way I got to where I am now - the person who trains people like my former self - is because of the opportunities I could only access after I got to Taiwan. I want to talk about how I could never have afforded my subsequent training and education with the low purchasing power my American existence felt like it was dooming me to. But I won't (I mean, other than the fact that I just did). I grew up with English as my first language, and standard American English at that. I'm white. I was privileged enough to be born into a family that, with some difficulty, sent me to university. I'm already privileged, so my story isn't the point.

Otherwise, if you say you support immigration to Taiwan but you only mean immigration for the already-privileged, you don't really support immigration. You support classist, and therefore racist, immigration policy. You support people who look and sound like me, but not anyone really different from you. I mean that for Taiwanese as well: yes, we are different, from different backgrounds. Yes, this might lead to some differences in worldview. But, educated Taiwanese readers who can read this in English, you and I have more in common because of our class background than either of us have in common with someone from a truly marginalized community. Especially if you are Han Taiwanese - Han privilege is absolutely a thing, and you know it.

If those other people like us are Asian - say, Hong Kongers, Singaporeans or Japanese - then they are just that much more similar to you, coming from the same region, though not the same culture and society.

Do you really want to support only people who don't seem so different - people like me - or do you really want to support Taiwan being an international society where everyone can seek a better life?

Taiwan is already a multicultural society - though the rate fluctuates, the number of Taiwanese children with a foreign parent has always been higher than a lot of people realize. After all, most of the time, those foreign parents are Asian, so it's hard to tell. For the past few centuries, this country has had foreign travelers, residents, colonizers and spouses interwoven into its cultural and historical fabric. Although there's a 'majority' culture, it's only a monoculture if you want to believe it is (and if you think 'monoculture' includes other foreigners if those foreigners happen to be Asian).

I see no reason why that can't be reflected in a better, more egalitarian, more welcoming and less racist immigration policy. 

Alliance for a Globally-Oriented Taiwan kicks off

If you're reading this at all, you're probably wondering what happened to me all month. Yeah, well, I'm wondering too. I've been doing a pre-Lunar New Year deep clean of our apartment as I'm not particularly busy with work. Also, the election's still got me down.

Not because my "team" "lost" (they didn't, really: the NPP is the closest thing I've got to a team I root for, and they performed better than anyone expected, including perhaps, quietly, the NPP themselves). People I don't like win elections all the time and I don't fret about it for two months.

No, what causes a sinking feeling in my heart every time I think about it is a far bigger problem: that, although it would be political suicide for the DPP to make a big deal out of it, interference from China was real, and terrifying. We can't prove how effective it was, but there sure seemed to be some effect, and if that's the case they will try it again. And again. And they very well may win. Yikes. I just...can't.

So, let's talk about something positive instead.

This past week, a group of 90-100 people, foreigners and Taiwanese, congregated in the Legislative Yuan to have a large-scale discussion meeting about how to implement the 'bilingual Taiwan' initiative (you might know it as 'English as a second official language', announced by former premier William Lai). Heading the meeting were legislators Karen Yu (余宛如) Rosalia Wu （吳思瑤）as well as National Development Council leadership, Professor Louis Chen of Global Brands Management Association, STARTBOARD and Crossroads.TW founder David Chang. The general attendees were a mix of teachers, school owners, recruiters, academics, NGO and nonprofit representatives, a few activists and some journalists.

One thing that was made clear was that the point is not to suddenly start forcing everyone to speak English, or spend their own money to go to cram school to study English, or to have all official documents in English and Mandarin (but not any other languages more native to or historically linked to Taiwan, such as indigenous languages or Taiwanese). The point is to develop Taiwan's international competitiveness by making it more accessible in English, and to increase the general public's familiarity with English, while potentially reforming the educational system to emphasize English proficiency. And over several decades, as that.

Put that way, it sounds quite reasonable.

The outcome of this meeting is the formation of the Alliance for a Globally-Oriented Taiwan, with more specific action items to be developed in the coming weeks. At minimum we're looking at advocacy, advisory status and policy proposals. While it has the potential to be another layer of talk, there's also the potential for it to be much more than that.

That two legislators and the NDC made sure the meeting took place, were there and paid attention to what foreigners were saying is already huge: I'm not sure it's ever happened before. For that reason alone it might have some real effect.

I won't spend too much time going over what was said by the leaders - that's been covered extensively in the Mandarin-language media and basically boiled down to "we're on your side", "we want to do this in a feasible way" and, of course, that the point isn't just to be bilingual, it's a push for greater internationalization.

Instead, I'll spend some time summarizing some of what came out of the contributors in the general audience.

Not everyone got a chance to speak (I did), but I was happy to hear that most opinions were dead-on (some I disagreed with mildly; there were just a few that I simply wasn't on board with). And yes, I do equate "dead on" with "I agreed with it", because in this particular field I will not hesitate to say that I know what I'm talking about.

There was a general agreement that we need to do a better job of teacher training in Taiwan, with ideas for this ranging from bringing in better-qualified teachers to building a teacher-training program in Taiwan from scratch. The latter is an idea I disagree with quite strongly: internationally-recognized and up-to-standard teaching certifications exist already, from teaching licenses/PGCE programs to CELTA/Trinity to Delta and various Master's programs. There's no need to build a program from scratch when...frankly, to mix metaphors, that wheel's already been invented.

The key is to make them more accessible in Taiwan. If you want to improve your teaching through formal training here, it's quite difficult: the government doesn't recognize programs like CELTA or Delta or any online programs; often for Master's programs (even reputable ones) there are residency requirements so a part-time student, even if they attend face-to-face, is going to have trouble. So we have to make these programs both available and recognized, potentially with a sponsorship program to make them affordable, too.

The owners of Reach To Teach, a reputable teacher recruiting company, pointed out that Taiwan has no program through which novice teachers can come here and work in schools (even as assistants), and the only way to work in a school in Taiwan is to come as a licensed teacher. Japan brings foreign teachers into public schools through JET by having them work as assistants as they are not qualified to actually teach; I'm not sure about Korea's EPIK program. What's more, in those countries novice teachers often earn more than trained teachers are offered in schools in Taiwan.

What everyone agreed on was that salaries in Taiwan being low for everyone, including locals, was going to make it hard to internationalize and attract foreign talent, and would not necessarily attract much local talent to English teaching, either. Before this can happen, pay prospects here simply have to get better.

Of course, as someone else pointed out, South Korea and Japan are not bilingual countries. Because, of course, countries where English is more widely spoken got that way through historical (typically colonial) means, but also because those countries routinely employ a large number of local teachers and don't rely on foreign ones.

That's really key, not only in terms of getting enough foreign teachers to do the job, but also cutting down a native speakerist view of English: that English is a White People thing, that White People go to Other Countries to teach Local People, who Learn It. But a country only becomes multilingual when locals are there making it happen. You can't import that kind of culture shift, nor should you.

(Obviously not every native speaker teacher is white, I'm talking about perceptions, not reality.)

There was a huge outpouring of angst, as well. That's not a criticism; I happen to agree with much of it. The notion that Taiwan needs to 'attract' more foreign talent bothered some, who pointed out quite rightly that many talented foreigners are already here, but can't get work outside of English teaching. Some stay and teach because it's all they can do; some leave because there's just no career future here and go to Singapore, South Korea, Hong Kong, back to their native countries or elsewhere.

There was also an undercurrent of dissatisfaction with the lack of readable English information on Taiwanese websites, including government websites. If Taiwan is truly going to become an English-friendly country, at the bare minimum all government websites need to be translated completely into (good) English.

Quite a bit of dissatisfaction was expressed over Taiwan's horrifying national examination system (including from me). I pointed out that research consistently shows that elementary-school language teachers in Taiwan are happy to incorporate more modern teaching methods into their practice, but  junior and senior high school teachers aren't, and the big difference is that older learners need to be prepared for the massive battery of mostly-useless and actively harmful exams that they have to take. The teachers themselves have said this quite clearly. There is simply no way for a language education program that actually results in English language proficiency to exist side-by-side with those exams.

The issue, of course, is that parents and some teachers fight viciously against any attempt to change the system. The parents think that more accurate assessment is somehow 'less objective' (not realizing that the tests their children are taking now aren't even accurate or related to real-world language use, and take away so much learning time as to actually harm their overall achievement) and some teachers are afraid they'll lose their jobs if schools suddenly start doing things differently. We need to work with both groups to advocate for change and convince them that there's nothing to be afraid of.

And, as usual, immigration is a massive issue. Those of us who want to stay forever - the well-secured roots of an international Taiwan - are concerned with how difficult it still is to obtain dual nationality or even an employment Gold Card. As a friend of mine pointed out, his employer (Academia Sinica) interprets the dual nationality requirements as stated to mean "we'll do what we need to do to get your application through when you get tenure". Imagine having to be a tenured professor at Academia Sinica before you can even approach dual nationality as an educator! Making it easier to move here and work is important for new immigrants; dual nationality is a core concern of us long-termers. Without it, internationalization can't happen, as we'll always be outsiders.

The downside of the meeting is that a lot of the issues discussed - low pay, lack of career opportunities for foreigners etc - are not easily solvable by the government. Even if they were, there's an entire legislature to convince. Two progressive legislators and the NDC are a good start, but it's not the end. There's a lot to be done and simply "this doesn't work! We can't get good jobs!" isn't something that can be specifically targeted, especially when locals are also struggling in a slow-growth economy.

The upside is that, again, it's huge that the meeting happened at all. People in government are interested, and listening, and that's more than I could say even three years ago. (And for us foreigners, is a big reason to support the Tsai administration). That's something, and we need to turn it into something real.