Deporting democracy, importing authoritarian logic

As tensions between Washington and Caracas intensify, over 250,000 Venezuelans living legally in the United States are set to lose their Temporary Protected Status (TPS), a temporary immigration status that allows individuals from certain countries to live and work in the United States if their home country is considered unsafe. 

Secretary of Homeland Security Kristi Noem has framed keeping these Venezuelans in the country as “contrary to national interest.” In reality, revoking TPS is not sound policy; it is bad economics aligned with worse ethics. This policy does nothing to help the American public. It does, however, endanger thousands of people who fled an erratic authoritarian regime and lays bare the overwhelming hypocrisy coming from Washington.  

The core issue is clear: Venezuelan TPS holders followed the rules, paid taxes, and built lives here. Their sudden vulnerability is not natural or inevitable—it’s government-manufactured insecurity for people who did everything right. Turning law-abiding families into targets of coercive, anti-democratic policy is not enforcement or in the “national interest.” It’s a gross failure of governance. 

The Trump administration has repeatedly painted Venezuelan TPS holders as criminals. This was the impetus behind a mass deportation of Venezuelan migrants to a maximum-security prison in El Salvador—CECOT. DHS records, however, tell a very different story. Research does too. Time and again research finds that immigrants are less likely to engage in criminal behavior than native-born citizens.  

This reveals the stark mismatch between rhetoric and reality. The narrative of criminality was used to justify a policy that targets individuals who, in fact, pose no threat under U.S. law. 

The immediate effect of this rollback in TPS is devastating for the everyday stability these families have built. Venezuelan TPS holders are rooted in their neighborhoods — they pay rent, attend school events, coach sports teams, and contribute to local organizations. Ending TPS doesn’t just adjust an immigration category; it unravels integration and leaves schools, employers, and communities scrambling to fill the gaps. 

For these families, the shift is not a gradual change — it’s a shock. People who lived under legal status for years can suddenly face job loss, detention, or deportation. Children who have spent most their lives in the United States watch their futures become uncertain in a matter of days. This instability does not emerge from economic or social pressures. It is manufactured from above, imposed on families who built their lives according to the rules the government set. 

What makes this decision even harder to justify is its democratic contradiction. The United States has spent years condemning Venezuela’s authoritarian abuses—its sham elections, political repression, and economic collapse. TPS was created precisely to protect people fleeing such regimes. Yet, by stripping legal status from those who escaped that system, Washington recreates the very logic it critiques, exposing civilians to state power they had every reason to fear. 

You cannot champion democracy abroad while destabilizing the lives of people who fled anti-democratic rule. Even the threat of detention, coerced departure, or deportation to Venezuela’s political conditions carries real human consequences. It does not strengthen American credibility; it weakens it. A nation that claims to defend freedom should not treat people escaping authoritarianism as disposable. 

So, what can be done differently? 

If the government is aiming for stability and enhancing national interest, revoking TPS achieves the opposite. Removing legal workers from the economy strains community institutions and exposes families to the political conditions the U.S. condemns with no measurable benefit to Americans. A policy meant to project strength ends up manufacturing domestic insecurity. 

Real strength starts with predictability. Extending TPS for Venezuelans, creating a reliable path to citizenship, and protecting long-settled families from political whiplash would strengthen markets, communities, and America’s democratic credibility. Regional diplomacy is most effective when the U.S. isn’t simultaneously putting vulnerable people at risk. 

A policy built on fear treats human beings as a political problem when they are fundamentally part of the solution. The logic of democracy doesn’t stop at the border—it applies to how we treat those who seek refuge at it.

Patrik S. Ward is an economics student at the University of Tampa and member of the Adam Smith Society.   

Abigail R. Hall is a Senior Fellow at the Independent Institute in Oakland, California and an Associate Professor of Economics at the University of Tampa.  

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