An investigation revealed an alarming surge in suicides among ICE detainees.
It is proposed, with the utmost reason, that the current administrative inefficiencies surrounding the detention of non-citizens be addressed not by the costly and emotionally taxing method of psychological intervention, but by a more streamlined protocol of preventative attrition. The committee has calculated the savings, and they are considerable.
We are told that there is an alarming surge in suicides among those held in the custody of Immigration and Customs Enforcement. This is a distressing statistic, certainly, but it is also a failure of imagination on the part of our administrators. To view these deaths as tragedies is to misunderstand the nature of the detention system, which is not a hospital, nor a prison in the traditional sense of rehabilitation, but a holding pen for human capital that has been deemed surplus to requirements. If the system is designed to detain, and the detainees are determined to leave, the friction between these two wills must result in a casualty. The question is not how to stop the casualty, but how to manage it with greater fiscal prudence and less public outcry.
Consider the case of Brayan Rayo Garzon, whose death has been cited as evidence of systemic failure. This is a misreading of the data. Mr. Garzon did not die because the system failed; he died because the system succeeded in creating an environment where life was no longer the most rational option. The state has invested heavily in the infrastructure of confinement - concrete, steel, surveillance, and bureaucratic paperwork. It has invested nothing in the infrastructure of hope. To expect a humane outcome from an inhumane design is like expecting a fish to thrive in a desert. The desert is not cruel; it is merely dry. The fish is not tragic; it is merely misplaced.
The current approach to mental health in detention centers is a drain on resources. Therapists, counselors, and crisis intervention teams are expensive. They require training, supervision, and, most inconveniently, they require time. Time is a commodity the detention system does not possess in abundance. Every hour spent listening to the despair of a detainee is an hour not spent processing paperwork, monitoring compliance, or maintaining the physical security of the facility. It is proposed, therefore, that we replace these costly interventions with a more efficient method of risk assessment.
If a detainee exhibits signs of despair, they should be identified early and moved to a specialized wing designed for “voluntary departure facilitation.” This wing would not be a suicide prevention unit, but a quiet, comfortable space where the detainee is left alone with their thoughts, free from the distractions of legal appeals, family visits, or the noise of the general population. By removing the external stimuli that might anchor a person to life, we allow the internal logic of their situation to take its natural course. If they choose to end their lives, they do so with dignity and without the expense of medical intervention. If they do not, they remain detained, but at a lower cost, as the specialized wing requires minimal staffing.
Critics may argue that this proposal is inhumane. They will say that the state has a duty of care, that it must protect the lives of those in its custody. But what is the duty of care if not the efficient management of risk? The state’s duty is to the public purse, to the rule of law, and to the orderly processing of immigration. When a detainee takes their own life, they are not dying; they are exiting the system. They are resolving the administrative burden they represent. To intervene is to prolong the suffering, both of the individual and of the taxpayer who funds their detention.
this proposal addresses the root cause of the problem: the contradiction between the promise of due process and the reality of indefinite confinement. By acknowledging that some detainees will choose death over detention, we stop pretending that the system is designed to save them. We stop lying to ourselves about the nature of the cage. The cage is not a mistake; it is the point. If the point is to hold people until they are deported, and deportation is delayed, then the holding becomes the punishment. If the punishment is too severe, the subject will reject it. This is not a bug in the system; it is a feature.
We must stop treating suicide as a moral failure of the state and start treating it as a logistical outcome. The state does not kill; it detains. The detainee does not die; they depart. By reframing the narrative, we can reduce the stigma, lower the costs, and improve the efficiency of the entire operation. The savings can be redirected to other areas of border security, where they will do more good.
It is a small price to pay for order. And if one finds this proposal monstrous, one must ask oneself why one finds it more monstrous than the alternative: a system that keeps people alive only to keep them in a state of perpetual, managed despair. The proposal does not create the horror; it merely admits it. And in an age of administrative opacity, admission is the first step toward efficiency.