Snippet
Character
Comment
Leading
Trauma
3 min read

Could I strike a deal after a public humiliation?

How to come back from setback after setback.

Jean is a consultant working with financial and Christian organisations. She also writes and broadcasts.

President Zelensky speaks and a caption reads ' on the economic partnership with the United States.
The art of the deal.
x.com/ZelenskyyUa

‘USA and Ukraine sign a minerals deal.’  

Two months ago, this headline looked impossible. The world watched in horror as President Zelensky was mistreated in the Oval Office and then appeared to be booted out of the White House before scheduled negotiations for the deal could begin. Zelensky left Washington having been publicly humiliated by the most powerful leader in the world.  

Whether he was blindsided, underprepared, badly briefed, misguided, disrespected, the victim of bullying or some combination of all of the above, the stakes for both him and Ukraine were as high as it could possibly get.  

These sort of political bust-ups if they happen, happen behind the scenes. But this was in the open, on air, for all the world to see. Not only then but it is available to view online in perpetuality.   

Now for just one minute, put yourself in President Zelensky’s shoes, what would be your next move? Me, I am probably going to cry, check my socials, go to sleep and say I am going home. I am done for the day. So many thoughts would be going through my mind. In all honesty, I would probably be going through all the stages of grief!  

Denial – ‘I can’t believe that just happened. Did they really just throw us out?’  

Anger – ‘What was J.D. Vance doing? Why did they gang up on me? I thought we were allies. I am not coming back here ever again.’ 

Bargaining – ‘Let’s get them on the phone. Does anyone have a contact we can reach out to? Can someone try to call the Secretary of State, Marco Rubio on private number?’ 

Depression – ‘What have I done? I have made things infinitely worse for my people and our country. Will we ever win this war? Will I be responsible for the surrender and end of Ukraine? Maybe I should resign and we hold elections?’ 

Acceptance – ‘It has happened now. No use crying over spilt milk.’ 

At this point I would say, ‘I am going to bed. Let’s start again in the morning’ (I think you can see why I am not a political leader).  

When I put myself in President Zelensky’s shoes and I think back to that day in February, (putting the war itself aside) and contrast it with his recent meeting with President Trump at Pope Francis’ funeral alongside the minerals deal, I am reminded of old wisdom found in an old book - the Bible.  

'Even if good people fall seven times, they will get back up.' 

Public humiliation, shame, disappointment and failure are often times when we give up and disqualify ourselves. Rather than view it as a moment in time, we tend to claim our failure, mistake or mishap as part of our identity. This often causes us to walk away from good opportunities and hold ourselves to an unattainable standard. My Christian faith teaches me to place my identity not in anything I do but in what Jesus Christ did for me when he died on the cross for my mistakes. Jesus like Zelensky, faced public humiliation and shame. He is the ultimate example of how I ought to respond in the face of opposition. Jesus did not respond to his accusers and remained focus on his mission to save not just a one nation but an entirely broken world.   Every so often I need to be reminded of this.  

Very few of us, if any of us, will ever face the level of public humiliation or as high stakes as President Zelensky did on that day (even if it feels otherwise). Things will go wrong, we will make mistakes, people will cause us embarrassment, but it will only be for a moment in time. This new minerals deal is a reminder that things can and will get better. Our mistakes or bad circumstances do not define us, we can and will recover if we are able to get up and try again. 

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Article
Comment
Migration
Politics
Romance
5 min read

Families like mine are impossible now, thanks to the idol that is the net migration target

Politician priests are making pointless sacrifices on the altar of numbers

Joel Pierce is the administrator of Christ's College, University of Aberdeen. He has recently published his first book.

A Border Force officer wears body armour with Immigration Enforcement written on the back
UK Border Force.

Let me tell you a love story. Eighteen years ago, in a time before politicians had taken to immolating their values on the altar of the semiannual net migration totals, I fell for the pretty Scottish bridesmaid at my sister’s wedding. The romance presented some challenges for an American like me, but none that were insurmountable. She found a year-long internship near me in Seattle and, just before she returned home, I popped the question.  

The process of applying for a UK visa was just another bit of the tedious logistics of an overseas move, the kind of thing a romantic comedy skips over with a ‘One Year Later’ movie subtitle so that it can end with a joyous wedding ceilidh in a picturesque Scottish locale. Our first few years together in Edinburgh were lean ones. Having takeaway coffee more than once a week felt like a scandalously indulgent luxury. Even so, I was able to progress seamlessly from my marriage visa to indefinite leave to remain, to citizenship.   

None of this would be possible if we were young twentysomethings in love today. We would fail every test of what the Home Office now considers to be acceptable romance.  

During our first year of marriage, the stipend my wife received while training for ministry would have been well short of the £18,600 income threshold introduced in 2012 for a sponsoring spouse, let alone the £29,000 required now. While we did have some savings, they were nowhere near the £88,500 now needed to waive the income requirement, and, in any case, would have been substantially drained by the £5,000 in fees and health surcharges that a two-and-half-year spouse visa now costs. It is little wonder Brits who have found love abroad, even ones in a substantially better financial and professional position than we were then, are now finding it impossible to move back to the UK.  

What is the cause of these new barriers? A hint can be found in the title of a recent Guardian article about recommendations for a slight relaxation of the income threshold to between £23,000 to £25,000. ‘Lowering UK’s income requirement for family visas ‘would increase net migration’, the piece was headlined. When even the most left wing major daily in Britain can’t report on the possibility of things being marginally easier for Brits who have the temerity to love a non-citizen, without framing it in terms of net migration, it’s a sign that we have all fallen captive to this singular statistic.  

Net migration is a number created by humans and yet it has come to play the role of an angry god which demands sacrifices every time it is reported. The right of working class people to marry a non-citizen spouse, the economic viability of our universities, and the proper staffing of the NHS are all victims its politician-priests have offered up in hopes that they would satiate its hunger. Net zero maybe next. 

There is no particular reason to think totting up the total number of people who arrived in the UK with the intention of staying here for a year and then subtracting the total number who left with the intention of staying abroad for a similar duration is a particularly meaningful exercise. It conflates people like me, who came here with every intention to settle and start a family, with students coming for a one-year master’s, doctors filling vital roles in NHS with children try to stay with with a migrant parent and Afghan refugees seeking long-term sanctuary with oil workers serving time in Aberdeen before moving on to Calgary or Brunei.  

The dominance of this statistic in our discourse has warped our moral discernments. 

There are perfectly legitimate reasons to think carefully about how much of each form of migration to allow, but when they are all grouped together under this single measure a peculiar logic sets in. Want to do the right thing by welcoming refugees from Ukraine and Hong Kong? Well, then, we’ll have to offset that with restricting visas for overseas students and throwing our higher education sector into chaos. Need more highly skilled programmers working in banks in London? Well, maybe we can balance that by demanding care workers abandon their kids if they want to look after someone in Nottingham. There is no reason to weigh the needs of these different sectors against each other, and yet the logic of this statistic demands that we do. 

The Bible has a word for human-made things which take on their own singular, violent logic. It calls them idols. While that word may conjure images of golden calves, the accusation which biblical writers consistently make against idolaters, that their idols blind them to what is really important and numbs their critical thinking, applies equally well when the idol is a statistic. The dominance of this statistic in our discourse has warped our moral discernments. It has made us unable to say what should be said without glancing nervously at its imposing shadow. It causes us to say things that should never be said and not notice how absurd they are. 

Instead, we should be able to celebrate that hundreds of thousands of people want to come to study at our universities (the vast majority of whom return home after finishing their studies)  and, hopefully, someday also be able to celebrate when hundreds of thousands of refugees are able to return to a peaceful and liberated Ukraine without having to calculate that the former will raise and the latter lower our totals. We should be able to welcome easing of income restrictions on spouse visas without noting that it will lead to a marginal increase in net migration. We should be able to see that sending an eight- and eleven-year-old back to Brazil without their parents is not, in the words of a Home Office official, “a degree of disruption in family life” which is “proportionate to the legitimate aim of maintaining effective immigration control”, but rather a gross violation of human decency. 

Migrants are not just numbers on a balance sheet. The diversity of our lives, what we give to the UK, what we receive in return, cannot be summed up in a single annual figure. And yet every six months, as the figure comes out, politicians express disappointment and announce measures to put that little bit of extra pressure on us, so that maybe a few more of us who can leave will. In the process they are sacrificing to this idol not just the peace of mind and the economic well-being of many migrants, but also much of the vitality of the nation as a whole. The Bible has a solution for idols. They are only fit to be melted down, destroyed, and forgotten. It is time to consider giving this one a similar treatment. 

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If you enjoy Seen & Unseen, would you consider making a gift towards our work?
 
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