English lessons shouldn’t be an immigration test – why the UK’s new policy risks deepening exclusion
What happens when learning English stops being a bridge into society and starts to feel like a test of belonging you can fail?
That is the question raised by the the UK government’s proposed new immigration policy, which would raise English-language requirements for most visa routes, with the aim of improving integration and workforce readiness.
This represents an increase in emphasis on language proficiency. Applicants would have to demonstrate higher proficiency in speaking, reading, writing and listening. There would be stricter testing standards and fewer exemptions, aligning immigration with strong communication skills for employment and community participation.
Ministers say the proposed policies will promote “integration” and “opportunity”. But it risks doing the opposite, by turning English for speakers of other languages (Esol) into a tool of surveillance rather than inclusion.
We are part of the Coalition for Language Education, a network of academics, teachers and organisations. The group argues that the proposed policy treats the ability to speak English less as a means of empowerment and more as a mechanism of immigration control.
By tying long-term residence and citizenship to staged progress in learning English, the policy reframes language not as a shared public good, but as a condition of acceptance. In effect, English becomes a kind of border.
Language shapes how we live together. It’s how people build relationships, find work, take part in communities and participate in democracy. But it can also be used to divide and exclude.
For non-native speakers, learning English has long been about helping people navigate everyday life, express themselves and feel at home. The government’s proposals, however, position English proficiency as a test of belonging – something to be proved, measured and monitored.
A decade-long test of worthiness
Under the plan, migrants seeking settlement or citizenship would be required to show staged progress in English, moving from basic to upper-intermediate levels over a ten-year period. Language attainment would be linked to a points-based system that also tracks employment and civic participation.
Language acquisition, however, is not linear. Progress is shaped by trauma, health, caring responsibilities, work patterns and previous education. For refugees and others who have experienced displacement or interrupted schooling, the expectation of steady, testable improvement can be unrealistic and punitive.
Reducing these complex learning journeys to tick-box benchmarks turns learning English into a compliance exercise. Linguistic ability becomes confused with effort, morality and even loyalty. Passing tests is seen as proof of trying hard, so failure implies laziness. Fluency becomes linked to being a “good” or “deserving” migrant. High proficiency signals commitment to national identity, while lower ability is framed as resistance.
This is not just a UK issue either. Around the world, language education has increasingly been tied to immigration control. What is new with this proposal is how openly English is framed as something to be audited.
In the UK, attendance, test results and progression targets risk becoming data points used to monitor behaviour, rather than tools to support learning. Teachers are pushed to prioritise performance indicators over dialogue, confidence-building and community connection.
When language becomes a tool of control, it reshapes citizenship itself, testing people against a narrow linguistic ideal and eroding democratic values. Equality, fairness, inclusion and participation erode when language becomes a gatekeeping tool. Narrow linguistic standards exclude diverse speakers, denying equal access to citizenship and civic rights.
A policy detached from reality
Beyond its ideology, the proposed policy also fails on practical grounds. Esol provision across the UK is already underfunded and uneven. Community and voluntary providers, who support many of the most marginalised learners, are expected to deliver high-stakes outcomes with limited resources.
But there are no commitments to teacher training, pay, or access for women, refugees, or rural learners. There is little recognition of the barriers many learners face, including trauma, caring responsibilities or lack of access to childcare and transport. Nor is there any serious engagement with trauma-informed or learner-centred teaching approaches. Instead, the policy doubles down on a technocratic model that values what can be measured over what actually matters in the classroom.
Language should help people connect, not police their right to stay. Integration cannot be engineered through fear of failure or threat of exclusion. It grows when education is welcoming, well resourced and rooted in respect.
Linguistic diversity is not a problem to be solved. It is a public resource that enriches communities and strengthens democracy. Teaching English works best when it builds on what learners already know, rather than treating their languages as obstacles to overcome.
Instead of tethering language learning to immigration enforcement, the government should invest in trauma-informed, learner-centred provision that meets learners’ needs. Assessment, too, needs rethinking. It should prioritise real-world communication and participation, not abstract benchmarks that silence voices.
Most importantly, integration must be understood as a two-way process. Host communities have as much to learn as newcomers.
If the government believes in empowerment, then education should amplify voices, not diminish them. Language policy should open doors, not lock them.
By replacing the language of rights and participation – teaching English not just for jobs, but to empower migrants to understand, claim and exercise their rights and engage in civic life – with conditional belonging, the proposed policy risks reinforcing inequality rather than reducing it. Presenting linguistic mastery as proof of national worth corrodes the democratic values language education should uphold.
Language should unite, not divide. When the English language is turned into an instrument of control, the very medium through which democracy operates is weakened. The task ahead is not to “restore control” over language, but to restore trust – in learners, in teachers and in the power of linguistic diversity to bring people together.
Declan Flanagan is affiliated with NATECLA.
Mike Chick is affiliated with the Welsh Refugee Council.