# The Case Against Aliens: Immigration Law and Language Through a Cosmic Perspective **A visiting scholar reflects on the power that words have to exclude people from certain categories of belonging, while reminding us that we are all, ultimately, members of the same celestial home.** September 02, 2025 D. Ouellet ![Solo astronaut in space above the Earth.](/sites/g/files/omnuum8931/files/2025-09/NASA-EarthAstronaut-S84-27031~large16x9.jpg) Astronaut Bruce McCandless II, 41-B mission specialist on the Space Shuttle Challenger, hovers above Earth in the first untethered space walk (February 7, 1984). *Credit:* [*NASA, S84-27031*](https://images.nasa.gov/details/S84-27031)> *You develop an instant global consciousness, a people orientation, an intense dissatisfaction with the state of the world, and a compulsion to do something about it. From out there on the Moon, international politics look so petty. You want to grab a politician by the scruff of the neck and drag him a quarter of a million miles out and say, “Look at that, you son of a bitch.” —Edgar D. Mitchell, Apollo 14 astronaut* *—*in *Starry Messenger: Cosmic Perspectives on Civilization* by Neil deGrasse Tyson The Alien Enemies Act, adopted in 1798 as part of the Alien and Sedition Acts, granted the US President broad authority to detain or deport males above the age of fourteen from a nation at war with the United States. Though rarely invoked in past decades, the statute remained on the books and has now been thrust back into legal and public discourse. Its symbolic and legal legacies are central to renewed debates over immigration, security, and individual rights. In light of these renewed discussions, a question arises: what, exactly, is an alien and why is this terminology used in immigration law? The term *alien* carries several meanings, referring both to extraterrestrial beings from outer space and the legal classification of immigrants as foreign or other. Under the US Immigration and Nationality Act (INA), an alien is defined as “any person not a citizen or national of the United States” (INA §101(a)(3)). Etymologically, the word derives from the Latin *alienus*, meaning “belonging to another” or “foreign.” While it may appear clinical or neutral, its linguistic root evokes estrangement—ultimately suggesting otherness in our collective consciousness. In fact, the notion of an alien as a legal outsider has deep historical roots, going back to the Alien Act of 1705, which declared Scottish nationals in England to be aliens—restricting property inheritance and imposing trade embargoes on Scottish goods. This early use of *alien* to delineate legal exclusion laid the groundwork for later codifications in countries of the Commonwealth and the US, which similarly defined noncitizens through a framework of legal and economic separation. The linguistic overlap also reveals deeper cultural assumptions about belonging, identity, and exclusion, connecting cosmic curiosity with earthly prejudice. This essay explores the use of the word *alien* today, and why adopting a “cosmic perspective”—taking a step back and looking at the bigger picture from the angle of outer space—might, in fact, help us reframe how we perceive human migration and our legal systems, encouraging greater empathy and inclusivity. In recent years, there has been a push to gradually shift away from the word *alien* in official documents and policy language and replaced in some state legislation by terms like “noncitizen” or “foreign national,” which are considered more accurate, reflecting a growing recognition that language shapes legal and social realities. In this context, the word *alien* does more than provide a label for a legal category. It acts to reinforce a narrative of existential threat: bodies that do not belong, that are fundamentally unlike us, that cannot be trusted. The presence and continued use of this label in current immigration discourse is, arguably, not merely semantic; it is ideological. It encodes a perception of the noncitizen not as an individual who simply moved from another country, but as fundamentally unknowable, untrustworthy, and, importantly, unworthy of rights. Far from being passive descriptors, terms like *alien* actively shape the contours of law and policy—they influence legal status, impact public perception, evoke emotional response, and mold political discourse. In this way, legal language functions not only as a tool of classification but also as an instrument of power—defining boundaries of belonging. ## From Words to Worlds ![UFO landing pad with flags perched on top and surrounded by trees.](/sites/g/files/omnuum8931/files/styles/hwp_1_1__720x720_scale/public/2025-09/UFO-LandingPad-AlbertaCA.jpg?itok=G7ELqzaX) UFO Landing Pad was built in Canada during the Cold War (1967) by the Canadian Ministry of Defence. A nearby plaque states: “Republic of St. Paul (Stargate Alpha): The area under the World's First U.F.O. Landing Pad was designated international by the Town of St. Paul as a symbol of our faith that mankind will maintain the outer universe free from national wars and strife. That future travel in space will be safe for all inter galactic beings. All visitors from Earth or otherwise are welcome to this territory and to the Town of St. Paul.” *Credit:* [*Municipal website of St. Paul, Alberta, Canada*](https://www.stpaul.ca/visitors/ufo-landing-pad) The word *alien*, therefore, acts as both a classifier and a cognitive shortcut. It renders complex human beings as data points on a form, stripping them of story, history, or humanity. Scholars of performativity theory in the fields of linguistics and philosophy, like [J. L. Austin](https://archive.org/details/HowToDoThingsWithWordsAUSTIN), laid the groundwork for understanding how language not only communicates but acts. The idea behind performativity, in fact, is to underscore how human actions and expressions actively shape and perpetuate realities. In the immigration context, this means that terms like *alien* are not just descriptors; when used as labels they are actions that define inclusion and exclusion. For example, border restrictions, document checks, visa issuance processes, immigration procedures, and paperwork are all part of the performative rituals that determine who is rendered visible or invisible. The perceived desirability of different categories of individuals is reflected in the levels of bureaucracy and the obstacles a given individual encounters during these processes. Through these actions, the State defines who is welcomed and who isn’t, reinforcing narratives of national identity—citizenship as well as risk. As such, these terms are often associated with otherness, criminality, and security, especially under laws like the Alien Enemies Act, which still carries relevance today in court battles about executive power and immigration enforcement. Thus, within the immigration and border context, performativity helps us understand borders not only as physical demarcations but as sites of continuous enactment that reinforce concepts of sovereignty, identity, and the shaping of “[imagined communities](https://archive.org/details/imaginedcommunit0000ande_s3v6)” that delineate insiders from outsiders, or, more pointedly, as foreign invaders. ![Earth as seen from space.](/sites/g/files/omnuum8931/files/styles/hwp_1_1__720x720_scale/public/2025-09/NASA-Earth-as15-91-12343~large.jpg?itok=EEy8iEwJ) View of Earth photographed by Apollo 15 on voyage to the Moon. *Credit:* [*NASA, AS15-91-12343*](https://images.nasa.gov/details/as15-91-12343)## Terminology as Infrastructure Much like a border wall or biometric scanner, legal and bureaucratic terminology forms part of the infrastructure that regulates movement, constructs identities, and enforces divisions. Thus, terminology is a technology of governance—a tool used to expand or constrain the scope of belonging. Building on performativity theory, it becomes crucial to also consider how identity itself is not a static essence but a relational phenomenon. As [Mireille Hildebrandt](https://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=3081776) argues, our identities are fundamentally shaped by how we are addressed—by institutions, by technology, and by one another. This second-person perspective precedes our self-understanding, meaning that the language used by legal systems does not just reflect identity, but participates in constructing it. In this, terms like *alien* affect not only immigration outcomes but processes. Those seeking protection from war and harm in their countries are expected to narrate their trauma in terms that conform to a specific legal and linguistic logic rather than lived experience and cultural difference. And so, often language barriers are not solely linguistic—they are conceptual. To be heard, one must “translate” their existence into the very terms—like *alien*—that mark them as outsiders. Stories transformed into sterile legalese. Applicants need to fill out countless forms and tick all the right boxes. Minor errors can have drastic consequences. Pain, injury, and trauma become statistics and bureaucracy. Access to a lawyer is not guaranteed, and often difficult. While removing the term *alien* would not, on its own, change substantive rights, it could signal a shift in how the law frames and understands noncitizens. Symbolic shifts in terminology can set the groundwork for better policies and more substantive legal reforms. ## Emerging Technologies ![Astronauts working on the Hubble Space Telescope in space, with Earth in the background.](/sites/g/files/omnuum8931/files/styles/hwp_1_1__720x720_scale/public/2025-09/NASA-Hubble-sts082-310-017-large.jpg?itok=dDqHWddT) The Hubble Space Telescope is in Space Shuttle Discovery's cargo bay being serviced by Astronaut Steven L. Smith and backdropped against a view of Australia (February 15, 1997). The white tube/arm contraption that is seen there is known as the Canadarm and is one of the best-known contributions by Canada to space technology. *Credit:* [*NASA, STS082-310-017*](https://images.nasa.gov/details/sts082-310-017)Semantics become increasingly significant as the field of migration governance increasingly integrates automated systems, such as predictive analytics used in visa fraud detection and biometric matching at borders. Ethnographic field research by scholars like [Petra Molnar](https://www.petramolnar.com/the-walls-have-eyes) continues to raise multiple concerns with these emerging technologies used in border management, especially AI-driven surveillance systems, facial recognition, and predictive analytics. A new [report](https://4550e59a-fc64-489f-b30f-da89b2699576.filesusr.com/ugd/329ca7_7828acaf7d934272899cb70195db8229.pdf) by the [International AI Governance Lab](https://wcesta4.wixsite.com/mysite) further highlights that global coordination is essential to ensure AI development aligns with social and human welfare, and this is particularly relevant as these technologies are increasingly deployed in sensitive areas like migration governance. As such, terminology becomes even more urgent in this context. Automated systems require data to be clean, consistent, and standardized but human migration experiences are rarely so tidy. They are inherently messy, emotional, and culturally diverse. For example, in some systems, predictive algorithms are used to assess the likelihood that a visa applicant will overstay or pose a security risk. These models rely on past data—data that often include outdated legal categories like *alien*. When such terminology is embedded into machine learning inputs, the system learns to associate *alien* with risk, otherness, or undesirability—without understanding the term’s historical baggage or what some refer to as [power shadows](https://mitsloan.mit.edu/ideas-made-to-matter/unmasking-bias-facial-recognition-algorithms). The algorithm does not ask whether the label is fair, harmful, or dehumanizing. It simply replicates the logic it has been fed. In this way, outdated language becomes encoded into digital infrastructure, not because machines are biased, but because these assumptions are built into the code or the vocabulary that continues to guide the architecture of our decision making more generally. As we build increasingly powerful technological tools, we—the humans—must also develop reflexive mechanisms to examine the words we use and the meanings we encode. And so, this further raises the need for something akin to semantic accountability and a practice of scrutinizing the language embedded in our digital systems. If legal systems are now partially digital, then the ethics that underpin them must be linguistically accurate. Failing to incorporate this linguistic examination risks perpetuating through automation the human biases that these systems, in theory, endeavor to dismantle. To truly reframe the language of law and migration, we must also reframe the imagination that sustains it. This shift in perspective invites us to look beyond terrestrial boundaries and consider the view from space. ## Cosmic Perspective, Human Stakes ![Hundreds of galaxies seen from a distance in space.](/sites/g/files/omnuum8931/files/2025-09/RubinObservatory-CosmicTreasureChest-publication.jpg) “The Cosmic Treasure Chest” // This single image captures over ten million galaxies, offering an extraordinary glimpse into the vastness of our universe. The image was released as part of the first imagery captured by the new The Vera C. Rubin Observatory in Cerro Pachón, Chile, as part of an international collaboration enabled by The Association of Universities for Research in Astronomy (AURA) which aims to create and share universal access to world-class facilities. *Credit:* [*RubinObs/NOIRLab/SLAC/NSF/DOE/AUR*](https://noirlab.edu/public/images/noirlab2521a/)From space, the borders that separate nations disappear. Carl Sagan famously described, in [*Pale Blue Dot: A Vision of the Human Future in Space*](https://archive.org/details/palebluedot00carl), Earth as “a mote of dust suspended in a sunbeam,” a reminder that our national, ideological, and identity-based divisions are trivial when viewed from afar. Astrophysicist Neil deGrasse Tyson continues to amplify this message to this day, advocating a “cosmic perspective” as a profound shift toward humility, interconnectedness, and compassion. Tyson writes in the final chapter of his bestselling book, [*Astrophysics for People in a Hurry*](https://archive.org/details/astrophysicsforp0000tyso): “When you think of the Earth that way, it can be humbling because we think of ourselves as so important as an individual, a culture, your religion, your nation…A cosmic perspective lifts you above this and provides a point of view that is humbling but also uplifting and enlightening. What you’ll find is you can be special not for being different. You can be special for being the same. That is a shift, a complete shift in outlook, that can have a different impact on how you treat other people, the environment and your relationship to descendants who are yet to be born.” Likewise, in her recent book, [*Into the Unknown: The Quest to Understand The Mysteries of the Cosmos*](https://www.hachettebookgroup.com/titles/kelsey-johnson/into-the-unknown/9781541604360/?lens=basic-books)*,* Professor Kelsey Johnson explores the edges of scientific understanding—such as the origins of the universe, the mysteries inside black holes, and even the possibility of dimensions beyond our comprehension. Her interdisciplinary approach—blending science, philosophy, and theology—invites us to confront uncertainty not with fear, but with wonder and openness. Drawing on this perspective, she challenges us to rethink our shared place in the universe. This shift in perception has also been described by space philosopher Frank White as [the overview effect](https://archive.org/details/overvieweffectsp0000whit): a transformative cognitive experience reported by astronauts when viewing Earth from orbit. The sight of our planet as a fragile, borderless sphere floating in the void evokes a deep sense of unity, empathy, and moral responsibility. White suggests that the emerging era of renewed space enthusiasm could open this mind-expanding perspective to many more people, potentially fostering a wider cultural shift toward global solidarity and ecological stewardship. What astronauts have felt in orbit—the dissolving of artificial boundaries—can serve as a metaphor, and perhaps even a model, for how we might reimagine our systems—including, eventually, beyond the confines of our planet. ![View of Earth in space from the moon, where the bottom half of the photo is the moon's surface.](/sites/g/files/omnuum8931/files/styles/hwp_1_1__720x720_scale/public/2025-09/NASA-ApolloFromMoon-as11-44-6551-large.jpg?itok=IIJqVjqj) View from the Apollo 11 spacecraft of Earth rising above the moon's horizon (July 20, 1969). *Credit:* [*NASA, AS11-44-6551*](https://images.nasa.gov/details/as11-44-6551)However, this is not to say that we should view space as a panacea for Earth’s problems. As author Adam Becker cautions in his latest book, [*More Everything Forever*](https://www.hachettebookgroup.com/titles/adam-becker/more-everything-forever/9781541619593/)*,* an overly optimistic faith in future space and technological utopias can distract from the fact that the most pressing challenges humanity faces today are fundamentally social and political, not technological, issues that, for now, must be addressed right here on Earth—the only place in the universe we know to support life for the time being. In[ *An Astronaut’s Guide to Life on Earth*](https://chrishadfield.ca/books/an-astronauts-guide-to-life-on-earth/), Canadian astronaut Chris Hadfield reflects deeply on his time aboard the International Space Station, pointing out that it represents one of humanity’s greatest cooperative achievements, involving countries across the globe working together for science and the advancement of human knowledge. He also recalls one of the very first international space stations (which he helped build), named *Mir,* and muses on this Russian word which means both “world” and “peace.” Hadfield notes that, regrettably, no such word with this dual meaning currently exists in English. This vision of cooperative transformation is also movingly captured in recent fiction. In her 2024 Booker Prize-winning novel[ *Orbital*](https://thebookerprizes.com/the-booker-library/books/orbital), Samantha Harvey offers a lyrical and meditative portrayal of astronauts aboard the International Space Station. The story explores how individuals from different nations come together in a fragile, floating laboratory, finding shared purpose through scientific collaboration and existential reflection. Through a fictional lens, it invites readers to imagine what it means to transcend borders and inhabit a truly collective human experience. In fact, here on Earth storytelling has always been central to human survival. In [*The Storytelling Animal*](https://archive.org/details/storytellinganim00jona), evolutionary biologist Jonathan Gottschall emphasizes that narratives were vital for our ancestors, fostering empathy, transmitting knowledge, and binding communities. Stories remind us of the human lives behind abstract laws, language, and labels—something that artists, writers, and filmmakers deeply understand. If extraterrestrial life were to visit Earth—not peacefully but with hostile intentions, as often imagined in popular blockbuster movies—would humanity unite as a species, or remain divided by nationality, language, or legal status? Sagan believed that human history reflects a gradual widening of our circles of compassion: from tribe to nation, and eventually, he hoped, to a species-wide consciousness. If we can imagine uniting against a hypothetical external threat, surely, we can also imagine embracing unity. After all, immigration, much like the exploration of outer space, is, at its heart, fundamentally about a universal aspiration for a better future that all humans hope for. ## Conclusion: Rewriting the Terms of Belonging If law is language and language is power, then we must take our words seriously. The term *alien* is not just outdated—it is linguistically inadequate. It warps popular imagination and erodes social cohesion. As legal battles will likely continue around immigration law and policy, as well as the role of technology in migration governance, we should begin by revising our vocabulary—in both the legal and everyday uses we make of language. Language is and has always been a site of struggle. But it is also a site of possibility. By changing the words we use, we can begin to change the worlds we build. ![Glowing tipi in a snowy forest clearing with aurora borealis lighting up the sky.](/sites/g/files/omnuum8931/files/styles/hwp_1_1__720x720_scale/public/2025-09/Tee%20pee%20image.png?itok=zfqMXgZ6) Human shelter beneath aurora and stars, a mesmerizing reminder of our human fragility beneath the infinite sky, Blachford Lake, Northwest Territories, Canada (March 2024). *Credit: D. Ouellet*Revisiting Sagan’s vast insights in the opening of [*Cosmos*](https://archive.org/details/cosmossa00saga), we can look back at a time and place—ancient Alexandria and its Great Library—where human knowledge thrived precisely because of its diversity and openness. The Greek term *kosmos*, meaning both “order” and “beauty,” emerged in this cosmopolitan crossroads of languages, cultures, and ideas. Alexandria’s intellectual vibrancy thrived not despite its diversity, but precisely because of it. Similarly, if we understand our societies today as “cosmopolitan,” reflecting an interconnected and ordered movement of human and cultural exchange, we can begin to reshape the terms and narratives embedded within our legal and social infrastructures. And so, perhaps this is the most important lesson of all: the path to a more humane immigration system does not begin at the border. It begins with how we speak, the stories we tell—and in this, we all can be guided, amongst other things, by a shift in perspective that reveals our shared humanity and the urgent need to rethink what it truly means to belong. Perhaps, too, learning about science, the world around us, and the universe more broadly is part of this journey. And, conceivably, it can help us all become better humans—less alien to each other, and less alienated from our common humanity. --- ## Contributor Bio D. Ouellet, a 2024–2025 Fellow in the Weatherhead Scholars Program, is an expert in refugee and immigration issues and has worked on various humanitarian emergencies, supporting refugee status determination, statelessness initiatives, and resettlement processing. *The author is deeply grateful to colleagues and peers from the Weatherhead Center and beyond who generously reviewed early and later drafts of this essay. Their thoughtful suggestions, constructive feedback, and valuable pointers to additional sources were instrumental in deepening my thinking on these issues.* See also:- [ Articles ](/media-type/articles) Share on:- [ Facebook ](#) - [ Twitter ](#) - [ Linkedin ](#)