People often wonder just how long a “temporary” immigrant can legally stay in Australia. For the determined stayer, the answer is generally around 15 years. And that’s if the immigrant is single.
Add marriage or a child into the mix, and a temporary immigrant’s Australian journey can be stretched out to 20 years. And until the end of the line, it’s all legal.
The first step is to enter as a language student for a one-year “foundation” course in English. Then it’s on to university, which is a three-year commitment for a bachelor’s in business.
Upon completing your undergraduate studies, you’ve earned two years on a temporary graduate visa. You’ve now racked up 6 years. But you’re just getting started.
Of course, you won’t want to go home with nothing more than an undergraduate degree; job markets in your home country are highly competitive. It’s time to apply for a master’s degree. Your master’s in management will consume another two years.
And just what kind of business will you manage? For the last 8 years, you’ve been working in a food service. It’s time to pursue your dream of opening your own restaurant.
For that, you’ll need a Certificate IV in Asian Cookery. It’s part of a well-scoped personal development plan, and an entirely legitimate strategy for securing your and your family’s economic future in your home country. The Department of Home Affairs will smile on your visa application—and give you another two years.
You’re now almost ready to return to your home country, but of course, to be profitable, your restaurant will have to serve alcohol. For that, you’ll need another two years of study to complete a Certificate IV in Hospitality.
But Home Affairs is now getting suspicious. Although your restaurant plans would indeed benefit from Certificates IV in Hospitality, Bookkeeping, Construction (someone has to build your restaurant), Leadership, Information Technology, and indeed Mental Health, it’s increasingly looking like you may be a non-genuine student.
So after 10 years in Australia, your application for a fresh visa has for the first time been denied.
But you are not deterred. Everyone in Australia (citizen or not) can request a review of almost any administrative decision to the Administrative Review Tribunal. Your review will take at least one year. You’ll be granted a bridging visa while you await an answer.
Sadly, the Tribunal is now alert to frivolous appeals like yours and confirms the decision made by Home Affairs to deny you a visa for further study. But you can’t go home now. If you do, you will be persecuted. After all, 11 years in Australia have made you politically suspect.
Naturally, you must apply for asylum in Australia. As an asylum-seeker, you will receive another bridging visa. And you’ll wait at least a year for Home Affairs to reject you.
But you won’t take that rejection sitting down. You’ll ask for a review by the Administrative Review Tribunal. Tack on another bridging visa and another year.
Finally, if you have the resources, you can appeal the Tribunal’s decision at the Federal Court. If you don’t have the resources, a publicly-funded legal assistance outfit will take your case, which will be heard in a little over a year.
Add in the spillover waiting times of each of the steps listed above (a few months here, a few months there), and you will have been in Australia for 15 years by the time your final appeal is rejected (at great public expense).
At this point, you have four options.
First, you can just refuse to leave. There are roughly 100,000 people in Australia on expired visas, and ICE does not have jurisdiction this side of Hawaii. You won’t be able to work legally, but you can run a small business or work for cash in hand. You will face occasional inconveniences, but no one will ever kick you out.
Second, if you were smart enough to have a child along the way, your child is entitled to Australian citizenship after ten years. Congratulations! You can now stay in Australia as an adult guardian of an Australian child.
Third, you can marry an Australian. Problem solved.
Fourth, if you’ve been in Australia for 15 years and have not yet achieved permanent residence, you’re doing something wrong. Onshore applicants jump to the head of the queue for permanent resident visas. As someone with a master’s degree, 15 years of work experience, and a Certificate IV in Asian Cookery, you are a valuable member of the Australian family.
Fifth and finally, your community can apply to the Minister. After all, you’ve been an active contributor to your local community for 15 years. It’s hard to imagine life in Australia without your smiling face brightening everyone’s day.
Unfortunately, you are single. If you were married (even de facto), your 15 years of temporary residence in Australia could be stretched to 25 or more. When you were in school, your spouse could have had a partner visa. Then your spouse could have gone to school while you took the partner visa. You would both have had post-study work rights.
Since you’re both so active in diaspora politics, you both could have applied for asylum—one after another. It would be foolish to apply at the same time.
None of this would be illegal (except simply refusing to leave), and all of it is understandable. Some immigrants to Australia are supporting families, or even entire villages, in very poor countries. They may also be facilitating chain migration for entire families or villages who want to improve their lot in the world.
And who can blame them? For many people from very poor countries, a ticket to Australia is a multigenerational life upgrade. They’re willing to work very hard, not only for themselves, but for their children, their children’s children, and their relatives’ children’s children. It is truly a noble tale of self-sacrifice.
But it’s a terrible immigration policy. Don’t blame the immigrants. Blame the policymakers who enticed them into a lifetime of sweat, toil, and gaming the system.
If Australia wants low-skill immigration from desperately poor countries, it should set up an honest immigration scheme to organise it. That would leave less work for immigration agents, lawyers, and activists. But it would give those hard-working rorters more of a fair go—and the rest of us a clearer conscience.
