ANALYSIS: An extra $570 — Trump’s tax on the American Dream

Maxime Marquette

2026-06-24 13:09:51

From Form N-400 to the Request for Reconsideration: Everything Is Getting More Expensive

Form N-400, the Application for Naturalization, is at the heart of the U.S. naturalization process. Under the current rule established in 2024, filing it costs $760 in paper format and $710 online. The DHS proposal would raise these amounts to $1,330 and $1,280, respectively. That’s a nominal increase of $570 for the paper application—exactly the figure that gives this article its title.

But the increase doesn’t stop there. Form N-336—the form that allows an applicant whose citizenship application has been denied to request a reconsideration hearing—would see its fees rise from $830 to $1,475 for the paper version (an increase of $645, or 77.7%) and from $780 to $1,425 for the online version. In other words, even the avenue for appealing an unjust denial is becoming financially prohibitive for low-income families.

Historical Context: Naturalization Fees Have a Long Political History

In 2016, it cost $595 to file a naturalization application. In 2024, under the Biden administration, the fees were raised to $760 for paper applications and $710 for online applications—the first substantial increase in nearly a decade. At the time, these figures were presented as a compromise between the need to fund the agency and the goal of civic inclusion. The 2026 proposal breaks with this balancing act.

For a qualified immigrant who came on a work visa, waited years to obtain permanent residency, and then another five years before becoming eligible for naturalization, the accumulation of fees represents a considerable burden. We’re talking about an individual who has followed every rule, paid their taxes, and contributed to the economy—and who is now being presented with an additional bill of $570 for the final step.

I have to say it: the math here isn’t neutral. A 75% increase in two years cannot be justified by administrative costs. It’s justified by a desire to screen people out. This is no longer an administrative fee—it’s a creditworthiness test disguised as a procedure.

The elimination of exemptions: the hardest blow to the most vulnerable

Exemptions Designed to Promote Inclusion, Now Eliminated

Until now, the system provided two financial safety nets for low-income applicants. The first was a full fee waiver for individuals whose family income did not exceed 150% of the federal poverty line, or who received public assistance such as Medicaid or food stamps (SNAP). The second was a reduced fee of $380 for those whose family income fell between 150% and 400% of the poverty line—which, in 2026, would apply to a single-person household earning up to approximately $62,600 per year.

The Trump administration’s proposal would eliminate both of these provisions. The only exception that would remain applies to active-duty military personnel and veterans applying under Sections 328 or 329 of the Immigration and Nationality Act. For everyone else, the flat fee would be $1,330, with no possibility of a reduction or waiver, regardless of the applicant’s financial situation.

Who, specifically, will be affected?

According to historical USCIS data cited by immigrant rights groups, nearly 40% of naturalization applicants took advantage of the fee waiver or reduced fee before the latest regulatory changes. This figure represents hundreds of thousands of people—essential workers, caregivers, farmworkers, cooks, technicians—who have built their lives in the United States and for whom the only barrier to citizenship is financial.

Doug Rand, a former senior USCIS official under the Biden administration, called the rationale behind this proposal suspect: “The only credible explanation for raising citizenship fees in isolation is that Trump 2.0 is eager to create even more undue obstacles for legal immigrants.” ” This quote, published by CBS News on June 22, 2026, is all the more striking because it comes from an insider—someone who knows the inner workings of the system.

When you eliminate exemptions for the poor, you’re not making immigration policy. You’re making class policy. It is the most vulnerable—those who have the most to gain from citizenship and the least ability to afford it—who are punished first. I don’t think it’s possible to frame this any other way.

The DHS's official justification: procurement costs and enhanced vetting

The Budget Argument: USCIS Is Self-Funded

The Department of Homeland Security defends its proposal with a seemingly solid argument: USCIS does not receive funding from the general federal budget. It must cover its own operating costs through fees collected from applicants. “The purpose of the proposed rule is to periodically adjust fees to recover the full cost of adjudication,” DHS stated in a press release issued on June 22, 2026.

The agency also maintains that the new vetting procedures mandated by the Trump administration’s executive orders—including social media checks, expanded interviews, and the resumption of “neighborhood checks” (inquiries with applicants’ neighbors and colleagues)—substantially increase the cost of processing each case. According to DHS, the current fees established under the previous administration “do not cover the cost of the checks required under President Trump’s executive orders.”

The Flaw in the Argument: A 75% Increase Disproportionate to Actual Costs

Legal experts and immigration attorneys have pointed out that the cost argument does not hold up to scrutiny. If the current fee of $760 does not cover processing costs, why such a massive increase—and why target naturalization exclusively rather than all types of applications? Fragomen, a law firm specializing in global immigration, noted in its June 22, 2026, analysis that the proposed increases range from 75% to 83% depending on the filing method—a disparity that far exceeds any ordinary inflationary justification.

Rosanna Berardi, an immigration attorney based in Buffalo, New York, summed up the fundamental inconsistency in a statement to ABC News: “When you simultaneously raise fees, eliminate waivers, and add new layers of vetting such as ‘neighborhood checks’ and an expanded ‘good moral character’ review, you’re not streamlining a system. You’re building walls on the inside.”

I have searched long and hard for a charitable interpretation of this budget argument. I cannot find one. An agency that increases its own processing costs through additional procedures—and then uses those extra costs to justify raising fees for applicants—creates a troubling circularity. It’s as if a mechanic were to add unnecessary checks to your car and then use that to justify a higher bill.

The Political Context: Naturalization in the Crosshairs of Trump 2.0

Executive Orders That Profoundly Change the Naturalization Process

The proposed fee increase is not an isolated measure. It is part of a series of decisions by the Trump administration aimed at tightening and restricting access to U.S. citizenship. From the start of his second term, executive orders have broadened the criteria allowing USCIS to deny or delay a naturalization application. The “good moral character” standard—long applied in a relatively predictable manner—has been reinterpreted more aggressively.

The administration has also revived dormant practices such as “neighborhood checks,” in which federal agents interview the neighbors, employers, and colleagues of citizenship applicants. This practice, which had been abandoned for decades because it was perceived as intrusive and unreliable, has been presented as a tool for “enhanced vetting.” Combined with systematic social media checks, it creates an environment of uncertainty for all naturalization applicants.

Denaturalization as a Political Tool

At the same time, the Trump administration has intensified its denaturalization efforts—that is, the revocation of citizenship already granted to individuals accused of fraud during their application process. While this legal procedure is not new, its acceleration under Trump 2.0 sends a clear message: U.S. citizenship is now presented as revocable, even years after it has been granted. This represents a profound paradigm shift in the relationship between the state and naturalized citizens.

Bloomberg Law reported on June 22, 2026, that this new fee proposal comes precisely within this context—with the administration seeking to revoke the citizenship of certain naturalized citizens accused of fraud. The simultaneity of these moves—making access more difficult and costly on the one hand, and challenging existing citizenship on the other—paints a coherent and troubling picture.

What strikes me most about this logic is that it treats citizenship no longer as an achievement—the reward for successful integration—but as a potential threat to be managed. When a state begins to view its own future citizens with suspicion by default, something fundamental has fractured in the social contract.

Reactions from civil society and the legal community

Immigration Lawyers Are Universally Critical

The reaction from the specialized legal community was immediate and unequivocal. As soon as the proposal was published on June 22, 2026, immigration law firms such as Fragomen and Erickson Immigration Group released detailed analyses highlighting the scope of the changes. These firms notably pointed out that the increase for low-income applicants would be even more devastating: for those who had previously benefited from the reduced fee of $380, the new proposal would represent a 250% increase—jumping directly to $1,330 with no intermediate options.

In its analysis, Erickson Immigration Group noted that USCIS had already revised its fees in 2024, raising naturalization fees from $640 to $760—the first substantial increase in nearly a decade. Less than two years later, a further 75% increase is being applied to this already revised base. The pace of these increases is unprecedented in the recent history of USCIS.

Immigrant advocacy groups on high alert

Long-standing immigrant rights organizations such as the American Immigration Council have highlighted the disproportionate impact of eliminating fee waivers on the most vulnerable populations. In a broader historical context, these same organizations successfully fought, during Trump’s first term in 2020, a similar proposal to raise naturalization fees to $1,170 while eliminating fee waivers—a measure ultimately blocked by a federal court in California.

The question today is whether such legal opposition will be possible again. The judicial landscape of 2026 is very different from that of 2020: the Supreme Court and many federal appellate courts have been profoundly reshaped during Trump’s two terms, making any legal challenge more uncertain.

I vividly remember the legal battles of 2020 against Trump’s first attempt to do the same thing. Those legal victories had seemed decisive at the time. Today, with a reconfigured judiciary, I am no longer as confident that the same legal challenges will produce the same results. That is where the real difference between 2020 and 2026 lies.

The 60-day public comment period: a space for democratic resistance

How does the public comment process work?

Under U.S. administrative law, any proposed regulation published in the Federal Register must undergo a public comment period before it can be finalized. The standard duration is 60 days—exactly what was allotted for this proposal. During this period, anyone—an individual, organization, business, or local government—can submit formal comments that the agency is legally required to review and address before issuing a final rule.

This mechanism is not merely a formality. Regulatory proposals have been withdrawn, modified, or substantially amended following massive waves of public comment. In 2019–2020, during the first similar attempt under the Trump administration, the process generated tens of thousands of comments opposing the proposal—pressure that, along with legal challenges, helped block the final rule.

A practical tool, but insufficient on its own

Immigration attorneys and advocacy groups are already calling on their clients and supporters to actively participate in the comment period. Fragomen explicitly noted in its analysis that the agency is “required to give serious consideration” to public comments, but that there is no minimum or maximum timeframe for the review phase. In theory, USCIS could issue an expedited final rule as soon as the 60-day period ends.

The practical reality is that this administration has demonstrated a willingness to push forward its immigration priorities quickly, relying on legal justifications that are sometimes questionable. The 60-day comment period is a genuine democratic space—but it is not enough on its own. It must be accompanied by preemptive litigation, congressional pressure, and sustained public mobilization.

I believe in the democratic process—I truly do. But I would be dishonest if I didn’t say that a 60-day comment period against an administration that has clearly announced its intentions, within a reconfigured legal landscape, is an asymmetrical battle. We must participate—and participate en masse—while recognizing that this single lever will likely not be enough.

The Actual Economic Impact on Immigrant Communities

When $570 Represents Several Weeks of Work

To understand the real impact of this increase, it must be viewed within the specific economic context of the affected populations. A worker earning the U.S. federal minimum wage—currently set at $7.25 per hour, unchanged since 2009—earns approximately $1,160 gross per month working full-time. The additional $570 therefore represents nearly three weeks’ worth of gross pay for this worker.

Even in states where the minimum wage is higher, the amount remains significant. In many immigrant households eligible for naturalization—dual-income families where both adults work in service, food service, or caregiving jobs—the choice between paying $1,330 for a citizenship application and covering a month’s rent, childcare, or food expenses can be agonizing. This is not an abstraction. It is the reality for millions of legal permanent residents in the United States.

The Ripple Effects: Delays, Abandonment, Increased Vulnerability

Immigration experts have identified several predictable ripple effects if the rule is finalized as is. The first is the indefinite postponement of naturalization applications: eligible immigrants will simply wait until they have saved the necessary amount—which can take months or years on a modest income. In the meantime, they remain permanent residents, without the right to vote, and are more vulnerable to future changes in immigration policy.

The second effect is that a significant portion of eligible individuals will simply abandon the process altogether. Studies conducted during previous attempts to raise fees indicate that a substantial increase in fees, combined with the elimination of fee waivers, directly results in a decline in the naturalization rate among the lowest income brackets. This is precisely what U.S. administrations have historically sought to avoid—and what the Trump administration now explicitly acknowledges.

There is a bitter irony in the fact that a country that still defines itself, in its rhetoric, as the “nation of immigrants” is systematically making the final act of that integration—becoming a citizen, voting, participating fully—financially out of reach for its most economically disadvantaged members. The America I admire is the one that overcomes this contradiction, not the one that exacerbates it.

International Comparison: How Much Does Citizenship Cost Elsewhere?

Naturalization Fees in Other Western Democracies

To put the U.S. proposal in a comparative context, it is instructive to examine the cost of naturalization in other major democracies. In Canada, the application fee for citizenship is 630 Canadian dollars (approximately 460 U.S. dollars in 2026) for adults—and 100 Canadian dollars for minors. In France, naturalization by decree is free. In the United Kingdom, the fees are substantial—around 1,330 British pounds—but are accompanied by a system of fee waivers for those facing financial hardship.

This overview shows that the United States is not alone in charging naturalization fees, but that the combination of a massive increase and the elimination of any access mechanism for the most disadvantaged sets it apart from the practices of most of its democratic allies. The military exemption that remains in place—laudable in itself—paradoxically reinforces this observation: citizenship remains accessible to those serving in the armed forces, but becomes prohibitively expensive for other low-income workers.

The Role of Naturalization in the American Democratic Project

Since the founding of the American Republic, naturalization has been viewed not as a routine administrative service, but as a foundational civic act. For this reason, successive administrations—both Republican and Democratic—have kept naturalization fees below the actual cost of processing—an implicit subsidy justified by the democratic value of civic integration. The DHS itself acknowledges this fact in its proposal, noting that previous administrations maintained reduced fees to “encourage naturalization”—before clarifying that the current administration “no longer believes that naturalization applications should benefit from reduced fees at the potential expense of other immigration benefits.”

This wording is strikingly clear. It does not hide the shift in philosophy. It affirms it. Citizenship is no longer presented as a priority to be encouraged—it is a transaction like any other, the price of which must cover the costs, without favoritism.

What deeply troubles me about this official DHS statement is its very candor. There is no pretense of improving the system. It states clearly: the policy of encouraging naturalization is over. This kind of ideological honesty is rare—and precisely for that reason, it demands a response with the same clarity.

The Role of Social Media and Digital Vetting in the Cost Equation

New screening measures that affect the actual cost of processing

One of the justifications put forward by DHS to explain the need for a fee increase concerns the new layers of vetting imposed by Trump’s executive orders. Among these, the systematic monitoring of naturalization applicants’ social media accounts has taken on increasing importance since 2017. During his second term, this practice was formalized and expanded: USCIS agents are now required to review public—and in some cases, non-public—profiles on platforms such as Facebook, X (formerly Twitter), Instagram, and TikTok.

This digital aspect of vetting is particularly concerning to legal experts. On the one hand, it introduces a significant degree of subjectivity into the adjudication process—personal posts, shares of political articles, or old comments can be interpreted as evidence of a lack of “good moral character.” ” On the other hand, these checks come at a real cost in terms of time and human resources for the agency—which, paradoxically, makes it a partially valid argument in justifying the fees, even if the marginal cost per case remains difficult to quantify publicly.

“Neighborhood checks”: the return of a practice from the past

The reinstatement of neighborhood checks is perhaps the least publicized but most symbolically significant aspect of the new naturalization process. Federal agents questioning the neighbors, employers, and coworkers of a citizenship applicant: this is a practice that evokes the 1950s—the Red Scare, FBI surveillance—more than it does a 21st-century administrative procedure. CBS News reported on June 22, 2026, that this practice had been “resumed after a long period of dormancy.”

For immigrants, the psychological impact of this surveillance is very real. Knowing that their neighbors might be questioned about them, that their online posts are being scrutinized, that USCIS is actively looking for reasons to doubt their “good moral character”—all of this contributes to creating a climate of intimidation around a process that should, on the contrary, be a celebration of successful integration.

I struggle to reconcile the image of America that I champion—open, dynamic, and attractive to the best talent and the bravest souls from around the world—with that of a federal agent knocking on neighbors’ doors to ask questions about the citizenship applicant next door. This is not the country that has inspired the world for two centuries. It is a caricature of national security that betrays its own founding values.

Legal Immigration in Trump's Overall Immigration Strategy

Beyond Illegal Immigration: The Tightening of Legal Immigration

The Trump administration has structured its messaging around a clear distinction between legal immigration—presented as acceptable or even desirable—and illegal immigration—presented as a threat to be combated. However, a close examination of actual policies shows that legal immigration has also been gradually tightened during both terms. Processing times for work visas have increased. Eligibility criteria have been tightened. The number of visas granted in certain categories has decreased. And now, naturalization fees are jumping by 75%.

Rosanna Berardi, the attorney quoted by ABC News, articulated this paradox clearly: “This is entirely consistent with the Trump administration’s broader message: to make legal immigration more difficult, more expensive, and less accessible—not just illegal immigration.” ” This interpretation is corroborated by the trajectory of policies observed since January 2025: at every stage of the legal immigrant’s journey, new barriers have been added.

The U.S. Economy Faces the Paradox of Legal Immigration

The fundamental paradox of this policy is that it directly conflicts with the needs of the U.S. economy. In a country facing a structural labor shortage in many sectors—health care, agriculture, technology, and services—restricting access to citizenship for legal immigrants already in the country slows their full economic integration. U.S. citizens have access to more jobs, higher levels of job security, government contracts, and career opportunities than permanent residents alone.

Economists have long documented that naturalization leads to a measurable increase in immigrants’ wages and productivity—which benefits the economy as a whole. Making naturalization more difficult and more expensive does not result in fewer immigrants; it results in immigrants who are less well-integrated, less productive, and less civically engaged. This is a real economic cost to the country—one that is invisible in USCIS budget discussions but clearly evident in macroeconomic data.

Trump is often effective on economic issues—I readily concede that. But in this case, immigration policy is in direct conflict with his own economic goals. Wanting a strong and dynamic economy while making the integration of legal workers longer and more expensive is an inconsistency I cannot ignore. The United States cannot afford to deprive itself of its most motivated future citizens.

Historical Precedents: The Failed Attempts of 2020

2020: When a Similar Rule Was Blocked by the Courts

The June 2026 proposal is not without precedent. In August 2020, during Trump’s first term, USCIS issued a final rule that would have raised naturalization fees from $640 to $1,170—an 83% increase—while eliminating fee waivers for nearly all applicants. The rule was set to take effect on October 2, 2020. A federal court in Northern California blocked it three days before it was to take effect, granting a preliminary injunction on the grounds that the administration had not provided sufficient data to justify the increase and had not considered the impact on low-income populations.

This decision highlighted a central legal vulnerability of such proposals: the obligation for federal agencies to demonstrate the rationality of their regulatory decisions and to consider their impacts on different populations. The question for 2026 is whether this same vulnerability can be exploited again—in a very different judicial context.

2026: A Reconfigured Judicial Landscape

During Trump’s two terms in office, the U.S. federal judiciary underwent a profound transformation. With three appointments to the Supreme Court and hundreds of appointments to the courts of appeals and district courts, federal courts have shifted toward a more deferential interpretation of administrative law with respect to the executive branch. The Chevron doctrine—which required courts to defer to agencies’ regulatory interpretations—has been weakened by recent Supreme Court decisions, but the net result for challenges to immigration rules remains uncertain.

Organizations such as the American Immigration Council have indicated that they are closely examining the proposal to identify grounds for a potential legal challenge. But even in the most militant circles of immigration law, pessimism is palpable. The legal battle of 2026 will be tougher than that of 2020. It is not impossible—but it is by no means a foregone conclusion.

I am someone who believes deeply in the rule of law—and precisely for that reason, I am uneasy about a judicial landscape that has changed so drastically in such a short time. An independent judiciary is not an obstacle to democracy: it is one of its pillars. When it weakens, the entire structure trembles. And legal immigrants—who depend on the courts to assert their rights—feel it before anyone else.

What This Proposal Reveals About Trump's Vision of National Belonging

Citizenship as a Privilege, Not a Right to Be Encouraged

At its core, this fee proposal raises a profound philosophical question about the nature of American citizenship. In the traditional view—the one that prevailed for most of the 20th century—naturalization was presented as the culmination of an integration process that society had an interest in facilitating. A naturalized immigrant is a full-fledged citizen: they vote, they can serve in public office, and they are fully engaged in the civic life of the country.

The Trumpian vision, as expressed in this proposal, is different. Citizenship is treated as a government service that applicants must finance entirely on their own—without public subsidies, without accommodations for poverty, and without any indication that society itself has a stake in the outcome. It is a transactional, contractual vision that treats national belonging as a commodity rather than a common good.

The message sent to legal immigrants around the world

The United States has long been seen as the destination of choice for the world’s most ambitious and determined immigrants. This reputation is a considerable geostrategic asset—a form of soft power that few countries can match. When Washington sends the signal that the path to full citizenship is narrowing and becoming commodified, that message is heard far beyond U.S. borders.

In Canada, Australia, Germany, and France—countries that are actively competing to attract skilled immigrants—immigration policymakers are closely monitoring developments in the United States. Every additional barrier erected in Washington is an opportunity for its demographic competitors. In a global competition for talent, this proposal is not neutral. It signals a deliberate weakening of a competitive advantage that the United States has spent generations building.

I’ll end with a confession: I am unambiguously pro-West. I believe that liberal democracies, with all their flaws, represent the best system of political organization that humanity has produced. And it is precisely because I defend the West that I refuse to see it weakened from within. This proposal does not attack an external enemy. It erodes the credibility of a promise that America has made to itself—and to the world—for two centuries. Trump is sometimes a necessary evil. Here, he is simply a bad choice.

Conclusion: 60 days to respond, years to fix

A Window That Is Closing, Consequences That Last

The 60-day public comment period, which opened on June 23, 2026, is a real but limited opportunity. It allows civil society, attorneys, community organizations, and affected individuals to make their voices heard in the regulatory process. If this window closes amid indifference and the rule is finalized, the consequences will be long-lasting. Hundreds of thousands of legal immigrants eligible for naturalization will face a choice that the country should not impose on them: further delaying their full civic integration due to a lack of financial resources, or going into debt to pay a bureaucracy in the midst of soaring fees.

The economic and civic benefits of naturalization—documented, measured, and real—will be delayed or lost. And the message sent to prospective immigrants around the world—that the United States now prefers financially solvent candidates over deserving ones—will have long-term effects on the country’s attractiveness, its demographics, and its capacity for innovation. This is not immigration policy. It is a policy of organized decline.

Key Takeaways from This Proposal

In summary, the USCIS proposal of June 22, 2026, does four distinct and cumulative things: it increases naturalization fees by 75%, it eliminates all financial assistance for the poorest applicants, it makes the appeals process more burdensome in the event of a denial, and it is part of a broader trend toward tightening access to citizenship—including enhanced vetting, the reinstatement of neighborhood checks, and a reinterpretation of good moral character standards. Each of these measures would be cause for concern on its own. Together, they form a coherent system whose effect—and likely its intent—is to make U.S. citizenship a privilege reserved for those who can afford it.

America has been great because it has welcomed, integrated, and empowered millions of men and women who came seeking a better life. That greatness is not measured by the wallets of naturalization applicants. It is measured by the quality of the promise made—and kept—to all those who have chosen to place their faith in it.

Signed, Maxime Marquette, columnist