A South Asian perspective on migration politics, student confidence and the long-term value of Australian international education.
For the past decade, much of my work has involved Australian international education across South Asia. That means I tend to hear Australian policy announcements twice: first as they are presented in Australia, and then again through the questions they create among students, parents and education agents in Nepal, India, Bangladesh, Sri Lanka and neighbouring markets.
The second conversation is often more revealing. A parent does not ask me what Australia’s ideal net overseas migration figure should be. They ask whether Australia is still a reliable place to send their son or daughter. A student does not begin with the federal budget. They ask whether the degree will be respected, whether they will be safe, whether they can manage the cost, and whether there will be a fair opportunity to gain professional experience after graduation.
That is why the current migration debate deserves more than a numerical analysis. Labor is working towards Net Overseas Migration (NOM) of 245,000 in 2026–27 and 225,000 in 2027–28. The Coalition has proposed 100,000 in 2028–29 and 2029–30 before moving to 130,000 and 160,000. One Nation has proposed three years of net-negative migration and a reduction of more than 750,000 temporary visas. These are materially different political programs, but international students have become a prominent part of the argument about how Australia should reduce migration.
A student is not a migration unit
Consider the decision from the other side of the world. An 18- or 19-year-old may be leaving home for the first time. Their parents may have spent years saving, may be using family assets, and may be committing to several years of tuition and living costs in a foreign currency. The student is moving thousands of kilometres away into a different academic system, labour market, rental market and culture.
There is ambition in that decision, but also vulnerability. Parents are not simply purchasing a course. They are placing considerable trust in a country and its institutions. For that reason, predictability matters almost as much as rankings or marketing.
The question I hear more often now is not simply, “Is Australia good?” It is, “Will the rules change again after my child arrives?” That is a very different question, and it should concern everyone who wants Australia to remain a first-choice education destination.
Australia has built something valuable
International education was worth almost A$55 billion to the Australian economy in 2025, according to the Department of Education using Australian Bureau of Statistics data. Of that, A$24.4 billion was tuition fees and A$30.4 billion was spending on other goods and services. This matters because the economic footprint of a student extends well beyond a campus.
But I do not think A$55 billion should be the main reason Australia values international students. If the argument begins and ends with export income, we make the same mistake as those who see students only as migration numbers: we reduce young people to a balance-sheet item.
The deeper value is accumulated over decades. A graduate who returns to Nepal, India, Bangladesh, Indonesia or Vietnam may later lead a company, work in government, build a professional practice, invest, trade with Australia or send the next generation to study there. Those relationships are difficult to price, but they are part of Australia’s economic diplomacy and soft power.
Housing pressure is real. So is the need for proportion
International students use housing and infrastructure. Any serious argument must acknowledge that. A larger population creates additional demand, and governments are entitled to align migration with the country’s capacity to accommodate people.
What deserves challenge is the leap from ‘students contribute to demand’ to treating students as a central explanation for a structural housing problem. International students did not design Australia’s planning system, determine land release, set construction capacity, decide infrastructure investment or create the long-term shortage of housing supply.
Reducing migration can reduce some demand. It does not, by itself, build a dwelling, train a tradesperson or reform a planning system. Australia needs to be able to discuss migration management and housing reform at the same time without pretending one substitutes for the other.
The post-study question is being oversimplified
The same problem appears in discussion of graduate visas. Wanting a period of professional experience after an Australian qualification is not the same as demanding permanent residency.
If a 22-year-old completes an Australian degree in IT, nursing, engineering, teaching, business or social work and hopes to spend a limited period gaining relevant work experience, that is a rational extension of education. The student may later return home with an Australian qualification, Australian professional references and a much stronger career profile.
Australia can set boundaries around that opportunity. It can impose English, age and qualification requirements, target areas of need, prevent indefinite movement between temporary visas and require people to depart if they do not qualify for another visa. None of that requires pretending that every graduate who wants work experience is trying to settle permanently.
The Coalition’s October 2026 plan illustrates how significant this debate has become. It proposes abolishing the Temporary Graduate visa for most graduates, retaining transitional visas for specified groups including PhD graduates, health and education students and students at regional universities, while reducing the projected Temporary Graduate visa stock from 271,200 to 10,000 by 2031–32. Whatever one’s view of the policy, that scale of change would inevitably affect how prospective students evaluate Australia.
Australia is competing for confidence, not just enrolments
International students have alternatives. That point is sometimes missing from domestic migration debates. A student discouraged from Australia does not necessarily stop wanting an international education; they may simply choose another destination.
New Zealand is openly pursuing growth. Its International Education Going for Growth Plan aims to double the value of international education from NZ$3.6 billion in 2024 to NZ$7.2 billion by 2034. From November 2025, eligible students were also allowed to work up to 25 hours a week during study, up from 20.
Canada has tightened international student numbers substantially, so it should not be presented as an unrestricted alternative. Yet its 2026 framework also exempts master’s and doctoral students at public designated learning institutions from the provincial or territorial attestation letter requirement, explicitly linking that exemption to attracting talent and supporting growth and innovation.
The United Kingdom is tightening too. Its Graduate visa falls from two years to 18 months for applications made from 1 January 2027, while doctoral graduates retain three years. The important point is not that any competitor has found a perfect model. They have not. It is that every policy choice sends a signal to a highly mobile group of young people who compare destinations before committing their time and family resources.
Australia is already seeing contraction
There is another fact worth putting beside the political rhetoric. In the year to June 2026, 687,810 international students studied in Australia, seven per cent fewer than in the same period of 2025. New student numbers were down eight per cent. Higher education was still growing modestly, but other sectors declined, particularly ELICOS.
At the same time, the Australian government has kept the 2027 National Planning Level at 295,000 new overseas student commencements. Study Australia explicitly says the NPL is not a cap on student numbers; it informs prioritisation of offshore student visa processing.
Those details matter because the international education system is more complicated than the political shorthand sometimes suggests. The sector is already adjusting, and different parts of it are moving in different directions.
Where policy becomes a human question
Governments must be able to change migration policy. No responsible provider or education agent should promise an international student permanent residency. Australia is entitled to change its rules when national circumstances change.
But the existence of that legal power does not remove the obligation to think about people who made major life decisions under an earlier framework. There is a meaningful difference between telling a prospective student, before they commit, what the rules will be and fundamentally changing the environment for someone who has already spent years studying under a different set of expectations.
This is where a policy can have inhumane consequences even when its stated objective is legitimate. A change written as a line in a policy document can alter the future of a 22-year-old who has already spent years and substantial family resources building an Australian education.
That does not mean policies can never change. It means transition arrangements, reasonable notice, grandfathering where appropriate and clear communication are not administrative luxuries. They are part of humane and credible policymaking.
Integrity should be precise
Australia has had genuine integrity problems in international education. Those problems should not be minimised. Providers that deliver poor-quality education, agents involved in fraud and applicants using false documents damage students, reputable institutions and Australia’s international reputation.
The answer should be stronger and more intelligent enforcement: remove bad providers, act against dishonest agents, refuse fraudulent applications, enforce academic and attendance requirements, stop artificial course hopping and investigate organised abuse.
But integrity policy works best when it identifies misconduct rather than assuming an entire student population is the problem. Genuine students should not become collateral damage in the effort to fix behaviour they did not engage in.
The decision is made around a family table
Countries rarely lose an education market in a single announcement. They lose it slowly: one family changes its mind, one successful student advises a younger cousin to go elsewhere, one agent becomes less confident recommending Australia, and one cohort of high-quality students starts looking at another destination first.
Australia’s success was built through the reverse process. A graduate returned home with a good experience. A sibling followed. Then a cousin. Parents spoke to other parents. Education agents saw successful outcomes. Trust accumulated over years.
That network effect can also run backwards.
This is why I believe Australia should look beyond the next NOM target. It should ask what kind of international education system it wants in 10 or 20 years. Australia can control migration, enforce integrity, remove bad operators and protect housing capacity while still treating genuine students with dignity and reasonable predictability.
An Australian education is not a promise of permanent residency. Students and their families need to understand that clearly. But there should be a reciprocal principle: if a genuine student chooses Australia, follows the law, invests years in an Australian qualification and meets the requirements placed on them, that student should be treated fairly and not casually turned into a symbol of problems they did not create.
The real competition is not only for enrolments. It is for the confidence of a family deciding whether Australia deserves their trust.
Conclusion
I keep coming back to the same image: a family sitting around a table in Kathmandu, Delhi, Dhaka, Colombo, Manila, Hanoi or Jakarta, deciding where a young person should spend the next four years of their life.
Australia’s competitors are at that table too.
The student is listening to what Australia says. The parents are listening. Education agents are listening. And they are not separating education policy from migration rhetoric as neatly as policymakers sometimes do.
Australia has every right to protect the integrity of its borders and education system. It should do so firmly. But it should also protect something that took decades to build: the belief, across our region, that Australia is a serious, welcoming and dependable place to be educated.
Once that confidence is damaged, lowering a migration number may prove much easier than rebuilding the trust that was lost.
Mukesh Dhamala
Mukesh Dhamala is a promoter of international education based in Nepal. For the past 10 years, he has been actively advocating for Australian education across South Asia and working closely with students, families, education agents and education providers. His commentary focuses on the long-term sustainability of international education, student confidence, education integrity and the relationship between Australian policy and student decision-making in South Asian markets.