By Bear Howard —
Part one: The Deportation Fantasy: Why America Can’t Arrest Its Way Out of Immigration
Sedona, AZ — In 2025, the United States stands on the cusp of one of the most ambitious—and in many ways absurd—law enforcement undertakings in its modern history. The stated goal of some in power is simple in theory, yet staggering in practice: to identify, arrest, detain, adjudicate, and deport millions of undocumented immigrants already living and working in the country.
On the surface, it’s pitched as a clean, decisive solution—a single sweep of the broom to “restore order.” But beneath that political slogan lies a logistical monster, one so enormous that even the most authoritarian states of the 20th century would raise an eyebrow. When we unpack the real numbers—the agents, detention beds, courtrooms, lawyers, transportation, and costs—the scale is mind-bending. When we add the human consequences, the economic fallout, and the likelihood of unrest, it starts to look less like an enforcement plan and more like a blueprint for national self-harm.
The Math That Doesn’t Work
Estimates put the number of undocumented immigrants in the U.S. between 10.5 and 11 million. To remove even half that number in a short period would require an operational footprint far larger than ICE’s current size. As of 2025, ICE employs roughly 6,000 Enforcement and Removal Operations (ERO) officers. To reach mass-deportation levels—say, 1 million removals a year—those numbers would need to multiply several times over. Even doubling to 12,000 agents would be insufficient given the vast geography, the necessity of surveillance, and the manpower needed for raids, transport, and paperwork.
Where would these agents come from? Recruitment at that scale would take years, pulling from an already strained pool of law enforcement professionals. And unlike local police, immigration officers require specialized training in federal law, asylum protocols, and evidence handling—assuming we even keep those protocols intact.
Detention: The Bed Space Problem
At peak capacity, ICE detention centers can hold around 34,000 people at a time. Let’s imagine that capacity doubles or triples through a flurry of new construction and contracted private facilities. Even then, mass operations would still bottleneck, with tens of thousands waiting for beds after arrest. Detention isn’t a revolving door—cases can take months, sometimes years, to resolve. That means people languish in custody, clogging the system and ballooning costs.
And speaking of costs: ICE already spends billions annually on detention. The average per-detainee cost is roughly $150–$200 a day. Multiply that by hundreds of thousands of detainees at any given time and you’re talking tens of billions per year, not counting capital expenditures for new facilities. These aren’t short-term motel stays; they’re sprawling compounds with 24/7 security, medical care, food service, and legal access.
The Legal Backlog from Hell
Immigration court backlogs are already a national embarrassment—over 3 million cases are pending as of 2025, with average wait times measured in years. Mass arrests would be like pouring gasoline on that fire. To process millions of additional cases, the U.S. would need to hire thousands of new immigration judges, clerks, and interpreters.
And here’s where it gets even more fantastical: due process. Even in the streamlined, often-criticized system of immigration courts, every individual has some right to make a case—be it for asylum, cancellation of removal, or other relief. That means lawyers, evidence, and hearings. The government would have to either (1) hire enough legal professionals to handle the caseload, which would cost billions, or (2) gut due process protections, opening the door to constitutional challenges that could tie up deportations in federal courts for decades.
Civil Unrest: The Untold Cost
America is not 1930s Germany, nor Stalin’s USSR. But forcibly removing millions of people—many of whom have lived here for years, have U.S.-citizen children, and are deeply embedded in communities—would inevitably provoke fierce resistance.
In neighborhoods across the country, the sight of militarized ICE raids would spark not only fear but also organized pushback. Religious congregations, sanctuary networks, advocacy groups, and even sympathetic local governments would resist. We could see mass protests, work stoppages, and acts of civil disobedience on a scale not seen in decades. In some places, the line between civil resistance and violent confrontation could blur. The human cost—in broken families, traumatized children, and frayed community trust—would echo for generations.
The Economic Self-Sabotage
Here’s the cruel irony: the U.S. economy is already facing a demographic cliff. Birth rates are below replacement levels, and labor shortages plague industries from agriculture to construction to elder care. Immigrants—documented or otherwise—are the stopgap keeping some of these sectors alive.
Removing millions of workers would send shockwaves through the economy. Crops would rot in the fields. Small businesses would shutter. Prices for goods and services would rise. And without a surge in native-born workers—an impossibility given current population trends—entire regions would feel the economic strain.
So the very same America that would be pouring tens of billions into detention and deportation would simultaneously be throttling its own productivity and growth. And in a cruel twist, once labor shortages hit, the same policymakers pushing mass removal would likely be forced to pivot toward new guest-worker programs—essentially re-importing the labor they just expelled, but under more exploitative conditions.
The Political and Moral Fallout
Globally, America’s reputation would take a hit from which it might not recover for a generation. This is the country that lectures others about human rights, the rule of law, and the dignity of the individual. Images of mass roundups, overcrowded detention centers, and children torn from parents would erase decades of moral capital.
Domestically, mass deportation would deepen polarization. For some Americans, the sight of buses filled with deportees would be a vindication of promises kept. For others, it would be the breaking point—a sign that the United States had crossed from constitutional republic into something darker, a place where fear is a governing tool.
Why This Isn’t Just About Immigration
Mass deportation isn’t simply a bad policy idea; it’s a stress test for democracy itself. It demands that Americans answer some uncomfortable questions:
- How far are we willing to go in using state power against individuals who are not violent criminals?
- Do we accept the erosion of due process if it serves a political goal?
- What precedent do we set for the next group that falls out of political favor?
If the machinery of mass detention and removal is built, it won’t vanish when immigration politics shift. It will remain, available to future administrations for whatever purpose they deem “necessary.” That’s the real historical echo we should fear—because the SS and KGB didn’t spring up overnight. They grew from institutions whose original missions seemed, at first, more limited.
The Smarter Path Forward
If the real concern is border security and orderly immigration, then the answer is not mass expulsion—it’s rational, sustainable policy. That means streamlining legal immigration pathways, investing in asylum processing, targeting true security threats, and building a labor system that acknowledges economic realities.
It means remembering that immigration enforcement is not a zero-sum game between “law and order” and “open borders.” The U.S. can have secure borders without descending into the logic of roundups and mass detention.
In the end, the question is not whether America can attempt a mass deportation. With enough money, manpower, and cruelty, it could. The question is whether America can remain America if it tries.
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