The Question We Aren’t Asking About South Africa’s Immigration Crisis

South Africa’s immigration debate has become increasingly polarised. Depending on who you ask, foreigners are either filling gaps in the labour market or taking opportunities that should belong to South Africans. Some argue that employers favour migrant workers because they are willing to work for lower wages. Others believe they simply do the work that many locals are unwilling to do. Governments are criticised for weak immigration enforcement, employers for exploiting vulnerable workers, and migrants for placing additional pressure on an already strained economy.

These are important conversations and they deserve thoughtful engagement. Yet I cannot help wondering whether, in the midst of all the noise, we are overlooking a far more fundamental question.

Every societal problem presents us with two choices.

We can react to what we see, or we can seek to understand the invisible forces that produced it. The current immigration debate is no different. While most conversations focus on who is getting the job, far fewer ask why that outcome occurred in the first place. Yet it is only by perceiving reality accurately that we can begin to solve it.

Before we are employers or employees, before we are South African or Zimbabwean, before we are documented or undocumented, before we are skilled or unskilled, we are first and foremost human beings. And human beings, regardless of nationality or background, make decisions in remarkably predictable ways.

Every human being is driven by needs and wants. Some are tangible: food, shelter, sanitation, healthcare, physical safety and financial security. Others are intangible: belonging, love, respect, purpose, emotional security and healthy relationships. Abraham Maslow described these as human needs, but long before psychologists attempted to explain them, they were already quietly directing human behaviour.

This is where I believe we often lose sight of what is really happening.

The labour market is not simply a collection of jobs. It is a human system. Employers and employees participate in an ongoing exchange of value. Individuals offer their time, skills, knowledge and character in exchange for compensation, and that compensation enables them to satisfy their human needs and wants. Money, therefore, is not wealth itself. It is merely a medium of exchange. It is evidence that someone, somewhere, perceived value in what another person was able to provide.

This brings us to a principle often referred to as the Law of Compensation. Whether one views it as an economic principle, a universal law or simply an observation of how markets behave, its implications remain remarkably consistent. The amount of money an individual earns tends to be directly proportional to three things: the need for what they do, their ability to do it, and the difficulty there is in replacing them. Like gravity, the principle continues to operate whether we acknowledge it or not.

Viewed through this lens, the immigration debate begins to look rather different.

The fact that many foreign nationals have established themselves within South Africa’s labour market suggests that employers have perceived value in what they offer. This observation does not diminish the real concerns surrounding unlawful immigration, labour exploitation or the responsibility of the state to enforce immigration and employment laws. Those are legitimate policy matters that require serious attention.

However, even while those broader societal conversations continue, another reality exists alongside them. Employers make decisions based on perceived value. Understanding what creates that perception may be just as important as debating immigration policy itself.

Many migrants arrive in South Africa with very little. For some, returning home is not a viable option because economic collapse, political instability or conflict have left them with few alternatives. Failure is simply too costly. As a result, many become extraordinarily resourceful. They identify opportunities others overlook. They accept work that others decline. They persevere through uncertainty because survival demands it.

In The To Be Human Journal, I describe this as the Burn the Boats Principle. When retreat is no longer an option, human beings often discover resilience, creativity and determination they never knew they possessed.

Some may argue that there are many South Africans who are equally willing to perform these jobs. I have no doubt that this is true. The more important question, however, may not be whether people are prepared to do the work, but how they do it.

Technical ability is only one dimension of employability.

The labour market quietly rewards another set of qualities that rarely appear on a Critical Skills List. Punctuality. Reliability. Honesty. Trustworthiness. Loyalty. Respectful communication. Emotional maturity. A willingness to learn. The ability to solve problems without constant supervision. These are often referred to as “soft skills,” yet there is nothing soft about their impact. They build trust, strengthen relationships and reduce uncertainty for employers. In many cases, they become the very reason one individual is chosen over another.

Perhaps it is no coincidence that these same qualities are also the foundations of healthy families, thriving communities and effective leadership. We often separate professional success from personal character, yet in reality the two are deeply interconnected.

This brings to mind what Albert E. N. Gray described as the Common Denominator of Success: successful people develop the habit of doing the things unsuccessful people are unwilling to do. Not because they necessarily enjoy those things, but because they recognise their importance. Often, those habits are less about extraordinary talent and more about extraordinary consistency.

And this is where the conversation changes.

Up until now, we have been talking about migrants, employers and government. Yet if the principles we have explored are true, there is another person who belongs in this conversation.

Me.

It is easy to analyse the behaviour of others. It is far more difficult to examine ourselves. Yet personal transformation has always begun there.

Governments must govern wisely. Employers must act ethically. Immigration laws should be enforced fairly and consistently. These responsibilities matter and should not be ignored. But none of them remove my own responsibility to become increasingly valuable within the labour market.

The masculine perspective rightly asks how we strengthen our institutions, uphold the law and protect the integrity of our economy. The feminine perspective invites us to understand the human needs, motivations and relationships that drive behaviour in the first place. We need both. One without the other leaves us reacting to symptoms instead of addressing causes.

Perhaps this is the deeper invitation hidden within South Africa’s immigration debate. Rather than asking only how we change the system, we might also ask how we change ourselves. Because regardless of what government does tomorrow, the individual who consistently develops valuable skills, cultivates trustworthy character and solves meaningful human problems will always be in a stronger position than the one who does not.

So perhaps the question we have not been asking is the most important one of all.

If every foreign worker disappeared from South Africa tomorrow, would I honestly possess the qualities that would make an employer choose me over everyone else?

If not, perhaps the greatest opportunity before me is not changing someone else’s behaviour, but transforming my own.