On Monday, September 22, 2025, Nigel Farage and Reform UK thrust the country’s immigration debate into a new and contentious chapter, unveiling a plan to abolish Indefinite Leave to Remain (ILR)—the status that has, for decades, provided permanent residency and a sense of stability to hundreds of thousands of non-citizens living in Britain. The proposal, which would force migrants to reapply for a visa every five years under stricter criteria, has ignited fierce discussion across the political spectrum, raising profound legal, economic, and ethical questions about the nation’s future.
At its core, Reform UK’s proposal seeks to end the pathway that currently allows non-British citizens—after five years of lawful residence and work—to settle permanently in the UK. According to Yahoo News UK, the new system would replace ILR with a renewable five-year visa, requiring applicants to meet higher salary thresholds and stronger English proficiency standards. Further, the right to claim welfare benefits would be removed, and those seeking UK citizenship would need to renounce any other citizenships.
In a press conference, Farage pledged that existing ILR holders would not be grandfathered in; they too would have to reapply under the new regime, facing the same hurdles as new arrivals. The period required to qualify for citizenship would also be extended to seven years, up from the current six. "Those on EU settled status will not have it withdrawn, but a Reform government will stop them accessing welfare in this country. That’s what renegotiating means. British people will no longer fund a food bank for the world," said Zia Yusuf, Reform UK’s head of policy, on X, clarifying the party’s intent to renegotiate welfare access for EU citizens as well.
Reform UK claims these sweeping changes would stem the tide of migration, curtail welfare spending, and put Britain on a more selective footing. The party has cited savings of up to £230–234 billion, based on the assumption that 800,000 people will be eligible for ILR in the coming years. However, this figure is hotly disputed. The Centre for Policy Studies, which produced the original estimate, has since disavowed its report, noting that fiscal data definitions have changed. Farage, undeterred, argued that the £230 billion figure was "without a doubt too low," suggesting the real number of would-be ILR applicants could be much higher. Yet Chancellor Rachel Reeves dismissed Reform’s numbers as "simple gimmicks" with "no basis in reality," echoing a wider skepticism among economists and migration experts.
The practical consequences of scrapping ILR would be far-reaching. As IBTimes reports, the proposals could directly impact hundreds of thousands of people—current ILR holders, migrants on track for settlement, and their families. Key sectors such as healthcare, social care, hospitality, and construction, which rely heavily on migrant labour, could face acute labour shortages. Employers warn that sharp restrictions could disrupt essential services and drive up business costs, with the NHS and care homes particularly vulnerable.
Legal experts also anticipate a wave of challenges. Removing ILR from those who already hold it raises questions about treaty obligations, citizenship law, and human rights—especially for dual nationals, long-term residents, and those who arrived as children. Recent government guidance restricting citizenship for refugees arriving via irregular routes is already being contested in the courts, and similar legal battles are likely if the new proposals move forward.
On the ground, the impact would extend well beyond legal status. As New Statesman observes, losing ILR could affect migrants’ ability to remortgage homes, access credit, or make long-term life decisions. Families who have built their lives in Britain could be left in limbo, facing the uncertainty of repeated visa renewals and the risk of being uprooted. The administrative burden of processing countless reapplications, appeals, and legal disputes could also undermine any projected fiscal savings, placing new strains on the Home Office and the courts.
But the debate goes deeper than numbers and bureaucracy. Reform UK frames the policy as a response to mass migration—particularly the so-called "Boriswave" of arrivals under Boris Johnson’s governments—and its perceived effects on welfare spending and social cohesion. Public frustration with migration has boiled over in recent months, with protests, political movements like Operation Raise the Colours, and rallies led by figures such as Tommy Robinson. These sentiments have given Reform UK political traction, but critics warn that the party’s approach risks oversimplifying complex realities.
Many argue that abolishing ILR would undermine the very foundations of integration and trust. ILR was designed as a balance: it grants permanent residence to those who have demonstrated a long-term commitment to the UK, allowing them to work, study, access the NHS, and bring family members, while still maintaining a distinction from full citizenship. Children born in the UK to ILR holders automatically become British citizens, and after a year with ILR, residents can apply for citizenship themselves. By turning settlement into a provisional, transactional status, critics say, Reform’s proposal could create a class of semi-permanent outsiders—people who live in Britain for decades, contribute to society, but never feel fully accepted or secure.
Ethical concerns abound. Supporters of the plan argue that stricter criteria ensure that citizenship is earned, not automatic, and that welfare should be reserved for UK nationals. Detractors counter that such measures risk sowing division, destabilising communities, and repeating the mistakes of past injustices—such as the Windrush scandal, which saw long-settled residents wrongly denied rights and threatened with deportation. "No one wants to risk repeating Windrush-style injustices, yet that danger is real," notes New Statesman.
There’s also the question of what it means to belong. The UK’s migration system has always balanced control with fairness, recognizing that integration and stability benefit everyone. Dismantling ILR, critics argue, does little to address the underlying drivers of migration—such as visa allocation, recruitment policy, or asylum intake—and instead weakens the very mechanism that helps newcomers become part of British society. Alternative measures, like raising salary thresholds or limiting dependents, could reduce numbers without dismantling the pathway to settlement.
For now, the proposals remain just that—proposals. They are not yet law, and any move to implement them would require prolonged public debate, legislative wrangling, and likely judicial scrutiny. But for the hundreds of thousands who have made Britain their home, and for the communities and sectors that depend on their contributions, the stakes could hardly be higher. As the country weighs the future of its immigration system, the debate over ILR has become a flashpoint—testing not just policy, but the values of fairness, stability, and belonging that underpin British society.
