The experiences of people seeking safety in the UK are increasingly shaped by a climate of exclusion. We regularly support individuals who are turned away from basic services: a council homelessness team dismissing pleas by saying, “British people are also homeless,” a foodbank refusing help because it does not “give food to asylum seekers,” and a newly recognised refugee warned their Universal Credit could be stopped unless they found work immediately. These interactions reflect a wider pattern: a deliberately hostile environment where access to shelter, food and benefits is made conditional, and where asylum and belonging are constantly questioned. This atmosphere is fuelled by political rhetoric and the rise of far-right narratives, which together make everyday survival harder for already vulnerable people.
The government’s recent proposals introduce an earned settlement model that could force people to wait decades before obtaining permanent status. The phrase earned settlement is being used to justify long waits — in some cases up to thirty years — and to attach conditions such as records of employment, voluntary contribution, or assessments of “character and conduct.” Framing secure status as something that must be proven rather than granted undermines the idea that those who flee persecution have an intrinsic right to safety. Prolonged temporary status compounds instability: financial exclusion, restricted rights, and the constant fear that safety can be withdrawn make it far more difficult for people to rebuild their lives, form ties, or integrate into communities.
How the changes disproportionately harm LGBTQIA+ people
For LGBTQIA+ refugees and people seeking asylum, the stakes are especially high. We support clients like Sam, a trans man from the Middle East who fled after being threatened if he did not reverse his transition, and Jalal, a gay man from Pakistan who received death threats from family members when his sexuality was discovered. The proposed criteria that take account of past immigration “non-compliance” or perceived lapses could punish survivors who overstayed visas out of fear, or who lacked access to accurate information about claiming protection on the basis of sexual orientation or gender identity. The label of “character and conduct” risks criminalising survival strategies and penalising legitimate claims, even when decisions are later overturned through judicial review or new evidence.
Healthcare, debt and further penalties
Another harmful component is the proposal to factor in NHS debt when deciding who is eligible for settlement. Many people seeking safety are barred from work while their claims are processed and therefore have little means to avoid accruing medical debt after accessing essential care. Penalising people for seeking treatment is both unjust and counterproductive: it creates barriers to health for those who urgently need it and deters others from accessing services. LGBTQIA+ people already face specific barriers to healthcare; adding immigration consequences to medical needs risks worsening both public health and human dignity.
Wider social costs and the false politics of division
These policy choices do not just affect individuals; they reshape communities. By demanding that migrants “prove” their worth through unpaid labour or long-term uncertainty, the state reduces people to economic calculators rather than recognising them as neighbours and contributors. This plays into a deliberate strategy of pitting communities against one another, distracting from real structural failures such as unaffordable housing, rising poverty and widening inequality. It also weakens social cohesion: when people live under chronic insecurity, they cannot invest in the relationships and institutions that make towns and cities resilient.
What a rights-based alternative would look like
A different approach would restore dignity and practicality to immigration policy. Immediate steps include scrapping punitive earned settlement thresholds, removing NHS debt as a bar to status, and lifting bans that stop people from working while their claims are decided. A humane system would prioritise safety, allow lawful employment, and create clear, rapid routes to permanent status for those fleeing harm. It would also recognize the specific needs of LGBTQIA+ claimants with specialist support, trauma-informed services and safer accommodation options. These are not indulgences; they are necessary measures to enable people to recover, contribute and belong.
Solidarity and practical action
Resistance to damaging policy requires collective effort. Across the country many people have shown kindness and practical help to refugees and migrants; organising that goodwill into political pressure is vital. Support can take many forms: campaigning to protect rights, backing specialist organisations, and challenging discriminatory local practices that deny basic services. Groups like Rainbow Migration provide tailored legal and emotional support — learn more at rainbowmigration.org.uk. Ultimately, defending the right to settlement is about choosing whether we want a society that protects people who seek safety or one that locks them into perpetual insecurity. We must come together to ensure the former prevails.