REPORT: 75% Increase in USCIS Fees — America Is Closing the Door on Poor Immigrants

Maxime Marquette

2026-06-26 22:15:18

A Safety Net Torn Away

Fee waivers were not an act of generosity. They were the result of decades of public policy based on a simple observation: naturalization benefits society just as much as it does the individual. An integrated citizen pays higher taxes, votes, participates in civic life, and gets involved in their community. Successive administrations, both Republican and Democratic, had maintained access mechanisms for low-income immigrants. The Biden administration, in its 2024 rule, had codified and expanded these criteria. The DHS proposal under the Trump administration directly reverses this progress.

Currently, an immigrant can obtain a full waiver by proving one of these three conditions: insufficient income, receipt of public benefits, or proven financial hardship. Under the proposed system, none of these three avenues would remain open for N-400 and N-336 forms. Immigration attorney Rosanna Berardi, based in Buffalo, New York, put it bluntly to ABC7: “This proposal is entirely consistent with the broader message of the Trump administration, which aims to make legal immigration more difficult, more expensive, and less accessible—not just illegal immigration.”

Form N-336: When the Appeal Becomes Inaccessible

Form N-336, less well-known to the general public, is the appeal process available to those whose naturalization applications have been denied. It allows applicants to challenge the denial before an immigration officer. Currently priced at $830 for the paper version, the fee would rise to $1,475—a 78% increase. For a household whose application has already been rejected—often for questionable administrative reasons—paying more than $1,400 for the right to defend themselves is a formidable obstacle. The right to appeal exists in theory. In practice, it becomes a privilege reserved for those who can afford it.

Attorney Berardi summed up the overall effect in a statement that I find strikingly accurate: “When you simultaneously raise fees, eliminate waivers, and add new layers of scrutiny—such as neighborhood checks and an expanded ‘good moral character’ review—you’re not streamlining a system. You’re building walls on the inside. ” Walls on the inside—for those who are already legally on the inside.

The phrase “walls on the inside” struck me. It says something essential about this administration: it’s not just the physical border that’s being reinforced. It’s the path to full citizenship that’s littered with financial obstacles. A legal permanent resident for five years, who has done everything right, finds himself trapped not by his record but by his bank balance.

The rulemaking process: a rule not yet set in stone

How a Proposed Rulemaking Works

To be clear: the proposal published on June 22, 2026, in the Federal Register under RIN 1615-AD08 is not yet law. It is a Notice of Proposed Rulemaking (NPRM)—a proposal that must go through the U.S. regulatory process before taking effect. This process includes a 60-day public comment period—ending on August 24, 2026—during which individuals, organizations, attorneys, and elected officials may submit formal comments. DHS is legally required to give meaningful consideration to these comments before issuing the final rule.

After the comment period closes, the agency may modify, amend, or withdraw its proposal. The final rule, if published, generally takes effect 30 to 60 days after its publication. Throughout this period, the current fees—$760 for paper applications and $710 for online applications—remain in effect. No effective date has been confirmed. This procedural timeline is not a guaranteed safeguard, but it is a window of opportunity—and immigrant rights groups have already announced that they intend to use it.

Precedents: A Recurring Regulatory Battle

This is not the first time the Trump administration has attempted to drastically increase naturalization fees and eliminate fee waivers. In November 2019, during its first term, a similar proposal was published, suggesting an increase in fees from $640 to $1,170. It sparked a wave of reactions: more than 80 members of Congress signed a letter of opposition, and groups such as the Catholic Legal Immigration Network (CLINIC) and the Immigrant Legal Resource Center (ILRC) filed lawsuits. In December 2019, a federal judge in Northern California granted a preliminary injunction blocking the changes to the fee waivers. The cycle begins anew in 2026, with even higher amounts.

The law firm Fragomen, which specializes in corporate immigration law, notes in its June 22, 2026, analysis that the review process by the Office of Information and Regulatory Affairs (OIRA) had been initiated as early as April 27, 2026, indicating that this proposal had been carefully prepared. The “Economically Significant” designation assigned to the regulation confirms that the government itself recognizes the measure’s major financial impact on the public.

This cycle—propose, block in court, resubmit—has become the Trump administration’s standard operating procedure on immigration. Each cycle lasts for months. And during those months, eligible immigrants hesitate, delay their applications, and miss their window of opportunity. The deterrent effect is real even when the rule is not yet in effect. This may be the most effective objective of all.

The “full-cost, beneficiary-pays” model: a principle, not just a calculation

The Ideological Shift Claimed by DHS

At the heart of the proposed regulation lies an explicit doctrinal statement. The DHS states in black and white: “DHS no longer believes naturalization benefit requests should get lower fees at the potential expense of other immigration benefits.” Direct translation: The administration considers that previous administrations—including those of Obama and Biden—were wrong to encourage naturalization through fees that were lower than the actual costs. The idea that citizenship is a public good worthy of encouragement is explicitly rejected. This is not a budgetary reform. It is a philosophical revision.

The regulation cites Executive Order (E.O.) 14161—titled “Protecting the United States From Foreign Terrorists and Other National Security and Public Safety Threats”—signed by Trump in January 2025, which directs the Department of Homeland Security (DHS) to “vet and screen to the fullest extent possible all foreign nationals already on U.S. soil.” The cost of these enhanced checks—background checks, interviews, “good moral character” assessments, and social media screenings—is now fully passed on to applicants. Immigrants no longer pay only for their own applications; they are funding the surveillance apparatus that scrutinizes them.

The DHS Argument Regarding Ineligible Applicants

DHS puts forward an additional argument to justify the elimination of fee waivers: according to the proposal, “free or low fees may encourage foreign nationals who know or suspect they are ineligible… to file an application anyway.” ” This is a security argument disguised as a fiscal one. It assumes that fee waivers attract fraudulent applications. No data published in the regulation supports this claim. Former DHS official Adam Klein, co-founder of Globali.ai, responded to this argument in Newsweek: “The fundamental question is not whether USCIS should recoup its costs, but whether the country wants to impose additional financial barriers on legal permanent residents who aspire to become Americans.”

Klein also points to a troubling lack of clarity in the proposal: “What remains unclear is what applicants will receive in return. For many, the perception could be that they are paying significantly more while receiving less in terms of accessibility and customer service.” In other words, the additional money will primarily fund increased oversight—not improved service. Immigrants pay more to be treated with greater suspicion.

The argument about fraudulent applications leaves me perplexed. If ineligible individuals submit applications solely because the fee is low, this suggests that the problem lies in the verification criteria—not in the fee itself. Tightening controls while making those who wish to become citizens bear the full cost is a circular logic that deserves to be publicly challenged.

The actual figures: Who will actually be excluded?

400% of the poverty line: what that really means

To understand who will lose their coverage with the elimination of the reduced rate of $380 for households below 400% of the federal poverty line, we need to translate this figure into actual income. For the year 2026, the federal poverty line for a single person is approximately $15,650 per year. The 400% threshold therefore corresponds to about $62,600 per year for a single person. For a family of four, the poverty line is about $32,150—meaning an annual income of $128,600 at 400%. These households are not poor in the absolute sense. Many are lower-middle-class workers, service sector employees, nursing assistants, security guards, and restaurant cooks—immigrants who work, pay their taxes, and until now had access to the reduced rate.

With the proposed elimination, these households will go from the reduced fee of $380 directly to the full fee of $1,330. For a household earning $50,000 a year with two children, paying $1,330 in non-refundable administrative fees—with no guarantee of success—is a considerable financial risk. If the application is denied and an appeal must be filed using Form N-336 at a cost of $1,475, the total cost for a single naturalization process can easily exceed $2,800.

Hundreds of Thousands of Potential Applicants Each Year

The DHS itself acknowledges in regulatory documents that the proposal could affect hundreds of thousands of lawful permanent residents each year. According to the Ellis legal newsletter, which analyzed the proposal as soon as it was published, there are several hundred thousand naturalization applications filed annually in the United States. The proportion of applicants who previously benefited from fee waivers or reduced fees is not specified in the proposed regulation, but historical data from USCIS indicates that approximately 40% of naturalization applicants had, in the past, received fee waivers during certain periods of high demand.

Former official Adam Klein clearly articulated the systemic issue: “This proposal marks a significant shift in the financial implications of acquiring U.S. citizenship. Although USCIS operates primarily on fees and must recover its operational costs, significantly increasing naturalization fees threatens to make citizenship less attainable for those with limited financial means.” ” He also noted that, historically, naturalization has been viewed as a public policy goal because citizens generally experience improved economic mobility, civic engagement, and long-term integration.

When I read these figures, I think of the tens of thousands of families who had planned to naturalize in the coming year. People who have saved up $400 or $600, who have their applications ready, who have passed the civics test. And who now have to rethink their plans—or give up. This isn’t a statistical abstraction. It’s a life choice that’s been put on hold, perhaps indefinitely.

The Impact on the Most Vulnerable Communities

Immigrants Who Work, Pay Taxes, and Are Excluded

The groups that benefited most from fee waivers and reduced fees are precisely those that the U.S. economy relies on heavily: agricultural workers, hospitality and restaurant workers, home health aides and caregivers, and construction and maintenance workers. These categories of workers are legal, documented, and have been permanent residents for years. They often obtained their green cards through family-based or humanitarian programs, not through skilled employment channels. Their incomes are stable but modest. For them, $1,330 represents several weeks—or even a month—of take-home pay.

The elimination of fee waivers does not affect skilled immigrants who are on a path to citizenship through H-1B visas or highly skilled employment pathways. These applicants, whose annual salaries frequently exceed $100,000, can absorb the increase without major difficulty. The proposal therefore creates a wealth-based selection effect: naturalization becomes more easily accessible to those who need it least financially, and more difficult for those for whom naturalization would have the greatest transformative impact on their lives.

Legal Aid Organizations Under Pressure

The impact is not limited to individuals. Nonprofit organizations specializing in legal aid for low-income immigrants—Catholic legal clinics, community service centers, and legal aid societies—are seeing their mission fundamentally complicated. These organizations helped thousands of applicants prepare their fee waiver applications, document their financial situations, and fill out forms. If fee waivers disappear, part of their role disappears with them—but not the demand. Organizations like the Catholic Legal Immigration Network (CLINIC) had already fought similar proposals in 2019, arguing that the new rules would have “significant consequences” for access to citizenship for tens of thousands of low-income individuals each year.

According to historical research by Stanford University’s Immigration Policy Lab cited during the 2019 regulatory battle, restrictions similar to fee waivers could reduce the number of naturalization applications filed annually by about 10 percent. Based on several hundred thousand applications per year, this represents tens of thousands of people pushed out of the system—every year the rule is in effect.

What strikes me about this issue is the surgical precision of the exclusion. It doesn’t prevent just anyone from becoming a naturalized citizen. It specifically prevents those with low or lower-middle incomes—those who represent the majority of immigrants and who are the most eager to become full-fledged Americans. The policy is targeted—and the targeting is social.

Reactions from legal experts and immigration attorneys

A Consensus of Concern Within the Profession

Reactions from the legal community specializing in immigration law have been nearly unanimous in their critical assessment of the proposal. Attorney Rosanna Berardi provided ABC7 with a particularly clear two-part analysis. Part One: Ideological Consistency — “It’s entirely consistent with the broader message of the Trump administration.” ” Second point: the systemic effect — “You’re building walls on the inside.” This interpretation frames the proposal not as a technical cost-recovery measure, but as a deliberate policy decision aimed at discouraging applications.

In its June 22, 2026, analysis, the Erickson Immigration Group emphasized that the proposal represents one of the largest fee increases in USCIS’s recent history. It notes that DHS could, following the comment period, “adjust fee levels based on stakeholder feedback, modify implementation timelines, or incorporate additional policy changes.” This procedural reminder is not merely a formality: in previous regulatory battles, public and legal pressure has indeed led to modifications.

Signals from academia and think tanks

Fragomen, a global leader in corporate immigration law, published a technical analysis of the proposal as early as June 22, 2026, documenting in particular the most striking fact that the mainstream media has often failed to mention: for applicants currently eligible for the reduced fee of $380, the proposed increase is not 75% but 250%. This figure radically changes the political interpretation of the measure. It is not a uniform 75% increase. It is a 75% increase for the wealthiest applicants and a 250% increase for the most vulnerable.

Among think tanks, the Center for Immigration Studies (CIS), which supports restricting immigration, had previously argued in its analyses for the “beneficiary-pays” principle as a way to ensure that USCIS does not operate at a deficit. This position, which was marginal under Democratic administrations, is now the official doctrine of the DHS. The political divide on this issue is clear, and both sides hold incompatible philosophical positions on the role of the state in the integration of legal immigrants.

I am in favor of strong, orderly, rule-abiding legal immigration. And that is precisely why this proposal worries me: it does not target undocumented immigrants. It penalizes people who have done exactly what they were told to do. Those who waited, followed the procedures, and paid their taxes. Punishing their loyalty with a bill they cannot afford is an aberration.

Security rationale as a budgetary pretext

Citation of the 2025 Executive Orders

The proposed regulation justifies the fee increase in part by citing the cost of new vetting procedures mandated by the executive orders signed by Trump in January 2025. Executive Order 14161 requires DHS to implement “maximum” oversight of all foreign nationals present on U.S. soil. In practice, this means: enhanced background checks, social media screenings, additional interviews, and a broader assessment of “good moral character.” All of these steps come at a cost. And DHS has chosen to pass this cost entirely onto the applicants.

There is a circular logic at play here that deserves to be pointed out. The administration unilaterally decides to strengthen screening procedures as part of a security policy that it itself has enacted. Then it decides that the cost of these enhanced vetting measures must be borne by the immigrants who are subject to them. It is as if a government decided to build a wall around a prison and then sent the bill to the inmates. What is at stake here is not administrative efficiency, but the question of who pays for a security policy chosen by a political majority.

USCIS, an agency funded solely by fees

An important point of context: unlike other federal agencies, USCIS is funded almost exclusively by filing fees. It does not receive budgetary appropriations from U.S. taxpayers’ taxes for its day-to-day operations. This funding model, which has been in place for decades, is regularly cited by the agency to justify its fee increases. The 2026 proposal explicitly cites the need for USCIS to “recover the full cost of providing all these services,” pursuant to section 286(m) of the Immigration and Nationality Act.

This legal framework is real. But it does not require the elimination of fee waivers or reduced fees. It requires cost recovery at the agency’s overall level, not necessarily at the level of each individual applicant. Previous administrations had resolved this issue by practicing a form of cross-subsidization: the high fees paid by employers for skilled worker visas (H-1B, etc.) partially funded the maintenance of affordable fees for naturalization. The Trump administration has chosen to end this internal solidarity.

The fact that USCIS is funded by fees is often presented as an unavoidable constraint. But it is a political choice, not a law of nature. Other Western democracies fund their civic integration services through the general government budget. The choice not to do so in the United States is a decision that is renewed with each budget cycle. And this decision has consequences that vary greatly depending on income.

The broader context: the rise in immigration costs in 2025–2026

The Post-OBBBA Regulatory Wave

The proposed increase in naturalization fees is part of a broader trend of rising immigration costs since Trump signed the “One Big Beautiful Bill Act” (OBBBA, Public Law 119-21) on July 4, 2025. This law introduced or increased several non-waivable fees: a minimum $100 asylum application fee (a first in U.S. history), an annual fee for asylum seekers for the duration of their case processing, and a new $24 entry fee for Form I-94. These amounts, initially set by law, were indexed to inflation for subsequent fiscal years.

In March 2026, USCIS had already increased the premium processing fees for skilled worker visas, reflecting inflation for the 2023–2025 period. In May 2026, DHS also proposed raising the fee for Form I-246 (application for suspension of removal) from $155 to $755—a 387% increase. The 75% increase in naturalization fees is therefore part of a broader trend aimed at making immigrants—including the most vulnerable—pay for the cost of the bureaucracy that processes their cases. And sometimes deports them.

The Parallel Denaturalization Campaign

What the general public has not sufficiently put into perspective is that this increase in naturalization fees is occurring simultaneously with an intensification of denaturalization campaigns. In December 2025, The New York Times revealed that internal USCIS directives ordered regional offices to “submit 100 denaturalization cases per month” to the Immigration Investigations Division for fiscal year 2026. Denaturalization—the revocation of U.S. citizenship—is a rare, regulated process subject to a high standard of proof. But the combination of an increase in denaturalization cases and a rise in naturalization fees paints a coherent picture: making access to citizenship more difficult and more expensive, while making existing citizenship less permanent for some.

The Trump administration’s immigration policy during its second term is not monolithic. It combines elements of legitimate security measures—enhanced background checks, the fight against document fraud—with elements that are more akin to a systematic effort to discourage legal immigration among low-income individuals. Historian Mae Ngai, cited in several academic analyses, had already noted that the United States has historically alternated between periods of openness and restriction, but that restrictions have rarely targeted the economic status of legal applicants so directly.

I recognize the legitimacy of strengthening immigration controls. But when we’re talking about mass denaturalization on the one hand and a drastic increase in application fees on the other, we’re no longer talking about administrative rigor. We’re talking about a political vision of who deserves to be American. And that vision deeply troubles me, even though I understand some of the legitimate frustrations on which it is based.

Responses from the Field: Lawyers, Advocates, and Communities

The 60-Day Window as a Battleground

The public comment period, open through August 24, 2026, is viewed by immigrant advocacy organizations as a strategic opportunity. Historically, NPRMs (notices of proposed rulemaking) that have received a significant volume of critical public comments have sometimes been amended or withdrawn. In 2019–2020, a similar proposal received tens of thousands of negative comments, including coordinated letters from legal clinics, universities, religious organizations, and members of Congress. The combination of regulatory pressure and legal challenges ultimately blocked the most draconian changes.

In 2026, organizations such as the Catholic Legal Immigration Network, the Immigrant Legal Resource Center, CASA, and others are already preparing coordinated comments. Several specialized law firms have set up information pages for their clients, urging them to take action before August 24. The mobilization also includes Democratic elected officials, some of whom have already begun drafting public statements of opposition. Senators and mayors from certain major U.S. cities with large immigrant populations have also signaled their intention to weigh in during the comment period.

Potential Legal Challenges

If the rule is finalized without substantial changes, legal challenges are highly likely. In 2019–2020, a preliminary injunction was granted by the U.S. District Court for the Northern District of California on the grounds of a probable violation of the Administrative Procedure Act (APA)—the law governing the federal regulatory process. Advocacy groups could raise similar arguments in 2026. Other avenues could include arguments based on Equal Protection, contending that the elimination of fee waivers effectively discriminates against low-income immigrants in terms of access to a fundamental right.

CASA and Public Citizen had already demonstrated their ability to secure swift injunctions during regulatory battles in 2024–2025 over other USCIS fees. A repeat of this type of litigation is almost inevitable if DHS finalizes the rule without major changes. But each round of litigation takes time. And in the meantime, the uncertainty itself discourages legitimate applicants from filing their applications, creating what some legal scholars call the “chilling effect”—the deterrence of exercising a right due to the threat of its cost or complexity.

I have a certain respect for U.S. judicial institutions when they resist the excesses of the executive branch. But I am weary of seeing this cycle repeat itself: an administration proposes something extreme, organizations file lawsuits, the courts partially block it, and the administration reintroduces it in a slightly modified form. Meanwhile, hundreds of thousands of people live in uncertainty. This is not a dignified way to govern a state governed by the rule of law.

The Trump Administration's Position: Between Budgetary Rationality and Political Signaling

What the DHS Officially Says

DHS provided Newsweek with an official two-part justification. Part one: financial necessity. A spokesperson stated that the changes “are part of a regular review of fees” and that the current fee structure “does not cover all costs associated with processing applications.” Second point: political priority. The agency emphasizes that naturalization is “the most significant immigration benefit” available to immigrants, and that this level of importance justifies a thorough—and therefore costly—processing.

The agency also defends its decision to eliminate fee waivers, asserting that this will improve efficiency and minimize abuse of the system. It maintains that applications for naturalization will remain stable despite the increase, as this is an “inelastic benefit” that applicants will seek to obtain despite the higher costs. It is a bold—even cynical—economic calculation: if people want to become citizens, they will find the money. This reasoning deliberately ignores the fact that some will not be able to afford it, and that these are precisely the people whose lives naturalization would have transformed the most.

Trump: The Necessary Evil That Undermines the Institutions He Claims to Protect

For some in the West, Donald Trump remains a political figure whose firm stance on certain issues—border security, the balance of power with authoritarian regimes, and the rejection of blanket amnesty—addressed the legitimate frustrations of a segment of the population. These frustrations exist. They are real. But Trump’s approach to legal immigration charts a troubling course for American institutions: the use of regulatory leverage to socially reshape the body of citizenship—without parliamentary debate, through administrative channels—by specifically targeting the most vulnerable among those with the strongest claims to citizenship. This is not rigor. It is institutionalized arbitrariness.

What worries defenders of the Western rule of law is not the 75% increase in and of itself—it might be defensible in a different context. It is the accumulation of measures: rising fees, the elimination of fee waivers, campaigns to revoke citizenship, heightened monitoring of social media, and stricter “good moral character” requirements. Taken together, these elements paint a picture not of a more efficient immigration system, but of a more restrictive, more costly, and more exclusionary one—precisely for those who have made the legal choice to integrate into American society. The West needs legal and orderly immigration. It needs legal immigrants to naturalize, integrate, and participate. Placing financial barriers in their path is like sawing off the branch on which part of America’s democratic vitality rests.

I can defend Trump on his firm stance on border security, his rejection of unlimited openness, and his demand for respect for the law. But this particular proposal—I cannot defend it. It punishes people who have followed the rules. It turns citizenship into a class privilege. And in the West that I want to see survive and thrive, citizenship should never be for sale to the highest bidder—nor should it be closed off to those who cannot afford it.

What This Reveals About the American View of Integration

Two Incompatible Conceptions of National Identity

The battle over naturalization fees actually reveals a deep ideological divide over what it means to become an American. On one side is a vision that could be called “integration as an encouraged process”: American society has an interest in its legal permanent residents becoming citizens, because citizenship creates deeper civic, economic, and social ties. This vision guided U.S. policy for most of the 20th century and into the early 21st. On the other side is a meritocratic-restrictive vision: citizenship is a privilege that must be earned not only through length of residence and passing exams, but also through the financial ability to cover the administrative costs.

The DHS proposal explicitly chooses the second vision. And this choice has implications that go far beyond the debate over application fees. It says something fundamental about whom America wants to accept into its most exclusive club—full and complete citizenship. If the answer is “primarily those who can afford it,” then the ideal of democratic meritocracy—where anyone can become an American by working hard and following the rules—is deeply undermined. And countries that look to the United States as a model of successful integration would be right to ask questions.

The European Mirror

An international comparison is instructive. In France, the fee for filing a naturalization application is 55 euros. In Germany, the fee for obtaining German citizenship is 255 euros, with possible reductions for people in precarious financial situations. In Canada, the fee for applying for citizenship is 630 Canadian dollars (approximately 460 U.S. dollars), but deferral options and financial assistance are available. In all these countries, the prevailing view is that civic integration benefits society as a whole and warrants a partial collective investment. The U.S. proposal of $1,330—with no fee waivers or reduced rates—places the United States among the most expensive developed countries for naturalization—and this is a deliberate, acknowledged, and well-documented choice.

It is not without irony that the country that most readily defines itself as “a nation of immigrants” is, under the guise of fiscal management, erecting the highest barriers between its legal residents and their full national citizenship. The West, as a whole, must maintain robust legal immigration to offset its demographic deficits, fuel its economic growth, and sustain the vitality of its open societies. Every excessive financial barrier to naturalization is a tacit invitation to partial integration, civic disengagement, and a permanent limbo.

I’m not sure about everything in this matter. I don’t know if a public comment period will change anything regarding this administration’s intentions. I don’t know if the courts will intervene in time. What I do know is that when a country begins to measure the value of a future citizen by their ability to pay an administrative fee, something has broken in the social contract. And that rupture deserves to be named.

The Voices of Immigrants: Between Calculation, Hope, and Resignation

The Psychological Impact of the Announcement

Beyond the numbers and procedures, the announcement on June 22, 2026, has an immediate and tangible impact on hundreds of thousands of legal permanent residents who are closely following regulatory developments. Online community forums, Facebook support groups for immigrants, networks of diaspora associations—everywhere, the news spread quickly. The question that comes up most often is not a legal one. It is an existential one: “Can I still afford to become an American?” This question, asked in English, Spanish, Tagalog, Hindi, Haitian Creole, and Brazilian Portuguese, sums up the human impact of the proposal all on its own.

Immigration professionals have reported a significant increase in inquiries from concerned clients in the hours following the publication of the regulation. Some have expedited the preparation of their applications, hoping to file them before any potential implementation takes effect. Others asked their lawyers whether the fee waivers currently available could still be used—the answer being yes, since the proposal is not yet in effect. But the uncertainty itself is enough to paralyze families who had everything planned out. This is what administrative law specialists call the “chilling effect”—and it takes hold long before a rule goes into effect.

Lives Hanging in the Balance of an Administrative Decision

Behind every N-400 form lies a life story. These are immigrants who left their home countries with the intention of settling permanently in the United States, who have built families here, enrolled their children in American schools, voted in local school elections, joined civic organizations, and paid their municipal, state, and federal taxes. These people do not need to be ushered toward citizenship through reduced fees granted out of charity. They need the path to remain open to anyone who has met all legal requirements, regardless of the size of their wallet.

The DHS proposal makes no distinction between fraudulent immigrants and honest immigrants, between those who seek to circumvent the system and those who have scrupulously followed it for years. It distinguishes only between those who can afford to pay $1,330 and those who cannot. This distinction—purely financial and blind to all other merits—is the most unjust of barriers in a system that claims to value work, responsibility, and respect for the law. U.S. citizenship should not come with an entry fee reserved for the wealthy.

I don’t claim to know the ideal way to fund USCIS. I am not an immigration economist. But I know what I see when an administrative proposal, in a single document, erases decades of progressive integration policy and replaces the idea of an open society with that of a club where admission is paid at the counter. What I see is a step backward. And such steps backward deserve to be called by their proper name.

Conclusion: Citizenship is not a commodity

What’s Really at Stake Behind the Numbers

The DHS proposal to raise naturalization fees to $1,330—while eliminating fee waivers and the reduced rate of $380 for households earning less than 400% of the poverty line—is not just a matter of accounting. It is a matter of values. It asks: What kind of society does the United States want to be? Do they want to be a nation where the path to citizenship is open to all who meet the legal requirements, regardless of their financial situation? Or do they want to be a nation where citizenship is a reward for a certain level of prior economic prosperity? The answer to this question has consequences that extend far beyond the pages of the Federal Register.

The public comment period runs through August 24, 2026. The regulation is not final. Legal challenges are likely if the rule is finalized as is. Members of Congress have the opportunity to act. Immigrant advocacy organizations are mobilizing. But regardless of the procedural outcome, the political message sent by this proposal is already on the minds of hundreds of thousands of legal permanent residents reading the news in early summer 2026: the America you chose to join legally, by following all its rules, is raising the price of your membership. And some of you will not be able to afford it.

The Near Future: What to Watch For

In the coming weeks and months, several factors will be decisive. First, the volume and quality of public comments submitted by August 24, 2026—immigrant advocacy organizations are preparing massive submissions. Second, legislative reactions: members of Congress may attempt to include provisions protecting fee waivers in budget bills or amendments. Third, legal challenges: if DHS finalizes the rule, one or more preliminary injunctions could be sought immediately, as was the case in 2019. Fourth, trends in application filings: even before the rule takes effect, the announcement is affecting applicants’ behavior—some will expedite their applications, while others will postpone them in the hope of a reversal.

What is certain is that the debate over access to U.S. citizenship is far from over. The June 2026 proposal has reignited the debate with renewed intensity. And in this debate, the voices that are heard the least are often those that have the most to lose: those hundreds of thousands of legal, unassuming, hardworking, law-abiding immigrants who dreamed of one day voting and who, this month, learned that this dream would cost them much more than expected.

By Maxime Marquette, columnist