Is "Economic Migration" Just Colonialism By Another Name?

Pretending to be a NYTimes Ethicist who is also an Emigrant to Panama

When wealthy Northerners retire to the Global South, they bring more than just their euros and dollars - they bring power dynamics that deserve closer examination.

I see many older Northern Europeans retiring to countries like Portugal or Morocco. And I know that some Americans are doing the same in Latin America. Is it fair to enjoy a different country's sun and cheaper living in retirement, or is this a new, sweet form of colonialism? — Taimaz Szirniks

The New York Times Building in New York City, NY. Photo by Ismael Nafría on Unsplash

Let’s pretend I am the New York Times Ethicist (a girl does dream!) who happens to also be living in yet another new country in her adulthood.

Here’s what I would reply:

Thank you for your thoughtful question, Taimaz. As someone who has made the journey from Trinidad & Tobago to the United States and now to Panama, I bring one perspective to this discussion about Northern Europeans and Americans retiring to countries with lower costs of living. Professor Appiah, himself an immigrant to the United States from Ghana via the United Kingdom, brings another valuable perspective to this conversation.

While Professor Appiah is technically correct that individual retirees aren't engaging in "colonialism" in its historical definition, I believe we need to examine this phenomenon through a more nuanced lens that acknowledges power dynamics, privilege, and impact.

In my first relocation - as a young, educated, black woman engineer who was legally offered employment in the United States post-University, no-one accused me of any of these things... in fact, I was celebrated as an example of American meritocracy and diversity. The difference is telling: when people from the Global South move north, we're expected to integrate, excel, contribute economically, and adapt to the dominant culture. Our migration is scrutinized, regulated, and often framed as a privilege we must earn. Yet when those from wealthy nations move south, their presence is rarely questioned in the same way - highlighting the uneven power relationships that persist across borders.

It's worth noting that both groups - retirees heading south and workers moving north - typically follow legal immigration processes and are "welcomed" under official policy. However, the social reception and expectations differ dramatically. Nations design their immigration systems based on what they perceive as beneficial to their societies.

The United States' H-1B visa system, for instance, prioritizes highly skilled workers in specific sectors where talent is needed, while Panama's approach protects certain professions for Panamanians only, reserving careers like law, medicine, and engineering for citizens.

These protectionist approaches reflect an important truth: countries have both the right and responsibility to ensure migration benefits their own citizens. The challenge is balancing this with human mobility and opportunity. When carefully managed, migration brings tremendous benefits through diversity of thought, innovation, and cultural exchange. My own experience as an engineer in the U.S. manufacturing and healthcare sectors demonstrated how multicultural teams often develop more creative solutions to complex problems.

This professional protectionism creates an important distinction: expatriates moving to countries like Panama typically bring their own investment or retirement income to support their resettlement and daily living expenses. Since many foreign professionals cannot legally work in protected sectors, these immigrants aren't competing directly for local jobs but instead injecting external capital into the economy. This arrangement is deliberately designed by host countries to maximize economic benefit while minimizing competition with citizens. Residency visas often require proof of substantial income or assets precisely to ensure expatriates contribute financially without becoming a burden on local systems. This financial self-sufficiency is a significant contrast to labor migration, where the economic equation revolves around employment opportunities.

I should acknowledge that I too live in what might be described as an expat bubble in Panama City - a reality that gives me firsthand insight into the complexities I'm describing. Yet, living in a metropolitan area means all the bubbles naturally collide in ways that can be productive. When I visit the dentist, hire a Spanish language instructor, order food from the local fonda restaurant, or enjoy an evening walk on the malecón and buy helado de pipa or fresh squeezed juice from the sidewalk vendors, I am keeping my time, attention, intention and dollars inside the local economy. These interactions represent important economic bridges between communities that might otherwise remain separate.

However, I've also observed how expatriate communities can still create parallel societies despite these everyday exchanges. When primarily white, wealthy retirees from the Global North move en masse to countries in the Global South, they bring with them not just their euros and dollars, but also their cultural expectations, consumption patterns, and often unconscious attitudes of superiority (for example, leading with "hello" in English vs attempting to greet others in the local language). This creates what I would call "economic enclaves" that can replicate colonial dynamics, even without formal political control.

In Panama, some expat communities concentrate wealth in ways that drive up (or impede the regular market activity of) local housing costs while the economic benefits remain unevenly distributed. While service jobs are created, the more fundamental question is whether these arrangements address or exacerbate existing inequalities. When housing becomes unaffordable for local teachers, nurses, and small business owners while luxury developments proliferate, we risk deepening wealth disparities rather than creating inclusive prosperity.

What makes this particularly troubling is that many of these retirement destinations were former colonies whose economies were deliberately structured to benefit external powers, or at the very least the "white or white-presenting" families who gained wealth and power during colonial periods and maintained their privileged positions in the generations after independence. Today's economic disparities between North and South aren't natural occurrences - they're the legacy of centuries of extraction and exploitation. This historical context matters when we consider contemporary migration patterns.

So while individuals like myself and other expatriates may have good intentions and make positive contributions to local economies, we're still participating in systems with complex power dynamics.

Being a "good neighbor" requires more than just economic transactions. It demands awareness of historical context and a commitment to genuine reciprocity.

Here are the ways that expatriates like myself can do better:

1. Learn the local language, culture and history, particularly understanding how colonialism shaped your chosen country

2. Even if you live in an expat bubble, endeavor to dine, shop, work and invest in integrated neighborhoods rather than restricting yourself to those expat enclaves. In doing so, you support local businesses and community initiatives

3. Advocate for policies that benefit the entire community, not just property owners, private school families, car owners (or insert another characteristic of privilege) here. Recognize your privilege and use it to amplify local voices rather than dominating spaces

4. Observe, listen, ask questions, but save the proselytizing about how things "could be better…" or "could be done differently…" for your partner or blog or family back home.

   Sharing those opinions, especially as someone without tenure or roots in the culture, comes off as presumptuous and potentially disrespectful to locals who have navigated these complexities their entire lives.

   While we may have valuable outside perspectives, there's wisdom in humility and listening before or without prescribing solutions.

   Trust me, you do not win friends by criticizing another person’s country, culture or way of life.

   The question isn't simply whether it's "fair" to enjoy another country's sun and perceived savings, but whether your presence contributes to a more equitable future or reinforces historical patterns of inequality. The answer lies not in abstract moral principles but in how we choose to engage with the communities we join.

---

Read the Original Exchange

For those interested in reading Professor Appiah's original column that prompted my response, I've created a 🎁 gift link from my own personal NYTimes subscription account - that allows non-subscribers to access the full article from The New York Times: Read "Is It Colonialism When Europeans Retire in Cheaper Countries?" by Kwame Anthony Appiah.

The original NYTimes piece offers valuable insights, and I hope this additional perspective from someone who has also lived the complexities of migration across multiple cultural contexts enriches the conversation Professor Appiah has started.

---

About the Author

Ven Sí Puedes | Come If You Can

: I am a Black woman who moved from Trinidad & Tobago to the USA nearly 30 years ago, who is now sharing insights from my personal experiences with international relocation and cultural adaptation moving from the USA to Panama.

---

This post is free, but if you enjoyed it and would like to support our writing, please do:

• 💛 Like our post

• 📝 Reply with a comment

• 🔁 Restack this post (+ add a note!)

• 🎟️ Become a paid subscriber

And your support helps more people considering this journey discover our experience.

xo Ven Sí Puedes | Come If You Can and

Real Talk Panama | Expat Life

---