Canada's Migration Strategy: Model for Australia

Australia's migration debate is at fever pitch, with both the government and One Nation announcing policies on the subject in the past week.

Author

  • Alan Gamlen

    Professor and Director of the Migration Hub, School of Regulation and Global Governance, Australian National University

In the case of the latter, commentators have drawn parallels between Pauline Hanson's approach and immigration policy in Canada, albeit with big caveats .

The Canadian example has been mentioned by politicians numerous times as a case study for what Australia should be doing. Those politicians, however, would have been disappointed by the government's migration policy, as there was little Canadian influence to be seen.

What exactly is Canada doing to manage migration, and what lessons does its experiment have for Australia?

Looking in the wrong places

Much of Australia's migration policy discussion focuses on the wrong number: net overseas migration, or NOM.

It's a useful statistic. It measures migrant arrivals minus departures, giving us a rough measure of how migration changes the population.

But that does not make NOM a good policy target . It combines the movements of Australians, New Zealanders, permanent migrants and many different kinds of temporary migrants. And because it is the difference between two large flows (arrivals and departures), it can change dramatically when their timing gets out of sync.

That is exactly what happened after COVID. Border closures suppressed both arrivals and departures. When borders reopened, arrivals recovered first. Departures took longer. The result was an extraordinary post-pandemic " migration splash " across the rich world: NOM surged and then fell as arrivals and departures gradually realigned.

Trying to manage the migrant population by targeting volatile NOM flows is a bit like trying to fill a bath to the right level by precisely controlling the tap, without looking at how much water is in the tub.

So what's Canada doing?

Canada has begun to reverse that logic.

Its temporary resident population grew extraordinarily quickly after COVID, reaching about 7.6% of the total population at its 2024 peak.

The government responded by making the size of the temporary population itself a policy target. It now wants non-permanent residents to make up less than 5% of the population by the end of 2027.

That has required substantial changes. Canada has planned for 385,000 new temporary arrivals in 2026 and 370,000 in each of the following two years. International student flows have fallen particularly sharply. Permanent migration, meanwhile, is being held at 380,000 a year.

But Canada is not simply "cutting immigration". It has changed the logic of migration planning. Instead of managing temporary migration as a series of flows across the border, it is managing the size of the temporary population already living in the country.

It's doing this by reducing new temporary arrivals, tightening pathways that prolong temporary status, relying on more departures as visas expire, and moving some temporary residents into permanent status - levers Australia can control, too.

And in Canada, the temporary migrant stock is falling: from a peak of about 3.15 million in October 2024 to around 2.56 million by April this year .

What are the consequences?

This approach has both promise and pitfalls.

Slower population growth is reportedly helping to push down asking rents in several major Canadian cities.

But it is also weakening demand for new housing, which can discourage construction . Canada's experiment therefore suggests that reducing population pressure can buy time, but cannot substitute for building more homes.

There are economic trade-offs, too. Canada's Parliamentary Budget Office found that an earlier version of the plan would reduce aggregate Gross Domestic Product (GDP), because Canada would have fewer workers and consumers. But GDP per person would be higher, and wages modestly higher.

So far, fears of widespread worker shortages have not materialised. Canada currently has around three unemployed people for every job vacancy. And it has managed to retain temporary workers in shortage areas, such as health care, construction and the food processing industry, as well as in some rural regions .

Public attitudes are also interesting. The proportion of Canadians saying immigration was too high rose from 22% in early 2023 to 54% in late 2024, before falling to 47% a year later. Over roughly the same period, the share saying the government was on the wrong track in managing immigration also fell.

That does not prove the policy restored public confidence. But it suggests confidence depends not only on the migration level itself, but also on whether governments appear able to manage it.

There is another reason to focus on the stock of migrants already in the country.

Temporary migrants are temporary in law, but not necessarily in their effects on society. They work, rent homes, pay taxes, use infrastructure, form relationships and become part of communities. Many remain for years while moving through successive temporary visas.

Yet their legal status remains conditional. That creates practical and ethical problems. How should governments plan for people officially considered temporary, but living in the country for years? How does temporary status increase vulnerability to exploitation? And how can people be expected to identify with and belong to a society in which they are effectively living on borrowed time?

For countries such as Australia and Canada - which have historically seen themselves as countries where migrants settle, not just pass through - this raises an even bigger question: what proportion of the population should live for extended periods in temporary status? A stock target at least forces us to answer it.

What's in a number?

But why 5%? There is no obvious reason why 5% is the right number. When Canada first announced the target, the government explicitly described it as a " starting point ", to be refined through consultation rather than derived from any demonstrated economic or demographic optimum.

Australia should decide what level makes sense here. Part of that exercise is technical. Different temporary population levels have consequences for labour supply, economic growth, housing, infrastructure and government finances.

But economic modelling cannot answer the whole question. Do we want to be more like the United Arab Emirates, where more than 70% of the population are temporary migrants? Or more like Japan, where the share is closer to 2%?

Australia will fall somewhere between these extremes. But we need a level-headed national debate about what scale of temporariness best reflects our values. That is not simply an economic question.

The key is to choose the number openly and rigorously, rather than let it emerge by accident from separate visa settings.

Then comes the second question: how do we keep the temporary population near that level?

The maths is simple. The temporary population stabilises when temporary net migration roughly matches the number of temporary residents becoming permanent.

Government, therefore, needs to control the main levers: how many temporary migrants enter, how long they can stay, whether departures occur when visas expire, and how many people move from temporary to permanent status.

It's not too late

Australia can already do these things. We simply have not tried to use them together to manage the temporary population as a whole.

Canada increasingly is. Its temporary and permanent migration plans are now explicitly connected, and it is accelerating permanent residence for up to 33,000 temporary workers already in the country.

Australia could build on that approach. Despite already unveiling its migration plan, the government can still set a target range for the temporary population. It then needs to monitor it closely and keep temporary migration broadly stable. That would reverse the current cart-before-horse approach to migration planning.

Canada has given us a live migration policy experiment. It's not too late for Australia to learn from it.

The Conversation

Alan Gamlen receives funding from the Australian Research Council.

/Courtesy of The Conversation. This material from the originating organization/author(s) might be of the point-in-time nature, and edited for clarity, style and length. Mirage.News does not take institutional positions or sides, and all views, positions, and conclusions expressed herein are solely those of the author(s).