In the popular imagination, the “Western world” (from the United States and Canada to the cobbled cities of Europe) has long stood as the ideal playground for global travellers. But beneath the glossy surface of open borders, cultural curiosity and the promise of carefree exploration, a quiet but unmistakable shift is underway. Though anti-immigrant sentiment in the West has been strengthening in recent years, even tourists may now feel a difference. Increasingly, even tourists, not just immigrants or long-term residents or students, are finding that the gates of the West are opening less easily, and that once inside, the experience is often shaped by new restrictions, rising costs and local resentment.
America's new gatekeeping rules can apply to tourists too
The US has always applied a detailed vetting process to immigrants, but the recent directive from the State Department marks a new chapter, one that blurs the line between immigrant scrutiny and tourist oversight. The new rules require visa officers to consider an applicant’s health when evaluating whether they might become a “public charge,” or a future burden on the state. On paper, this might sound like a routine administrative update. In practice, it opens the door to deeply subjective judgments about an applicant’s fitness.
Health checks have long been part of the immigration process. Applicants for US visas and green cards must undergo medical examinations by approved physicians to screen for communicable diseases such as tuberculosis and to verify vaccination records. What’s new is the expansion of what counts as a potential health risk. The latest directive allows consular officers to consider a broader range of chronic and non-communicable conditions and to make subjective judgments.
By explicitly citing conditions such as obesity, a non-communicable and globally widespread health issue, the directive takes health norms to an extreme. The American visa process will no longer be merely about whether travellers pose a security or epidemiological or economic risk, but whether their potential health problems make them undesirable. Even though this rule is expected to apply mainly to immigrant visas, the language technically extends to all categories, including tourist (B-1/B-2) and student (F-1) visas. This means that, in theory, even a tourist could be turned away for medical reasons such as obesity.
This is not an isolated bureaucratic adjustment but a reflection of a larger political climate where the boundary between visitor and potentially burdensome immigrant has blurred.
Canada tightens visitor norms
Across the northern border, Canada, often perceived as more welcoming and predictable than its southern neighbour, is undergoing its own transformation. Immigration, Refugees and Citizenship Canada (IRCC) recently introduced new operational guidelines empowering officers to cancel temporary resident documents, including visitor visas, study permits, work permits, and electronic travel authorisations, if a holder fails to meet ongoing eligibility or admissibility requirements.
The measure, announced on November 4, 2025, gives the Canadian government unprecedented discretion to revoke permissions already granted. A tourist or student who falls out of compliance, even inadvertently, could suddenly find himself without legal standing. Although the policy is aimed as a technical safeguard to maintain system integrity, it also injects a new layer of uncertainty into the experience of visiting Canada.
This tightening reflects a broader shift in Canadian immigration and border management. Once known for its liberal visa policies and warm rhetoric toward newcomers, Canada is now balancing that openness with concerns about overstays, irregular work and the strain of population growth on housing and healthcare systems. The result is a more conditional form of hospitality, where a visa is less an invitation and more a licence that can be revoked with subjective judgment.
Europe too is getting tired of tourists
While North America’s barriers for visitors are administrative and legal, Europe’s are cultural and environmental. The problem here is not the fear of foreigners staying forever but that too many come too often, and all at once. From Venice’s day-tripper fees to Amsterdam’s caps on hotel capacity, European cities have begun placing explicit limits on how many visitors they can handle. In Greece, the Acropolis now admits visitors by timed slots. In Spain, regions like Catalonia are raising tourist taxes and banning new holiday rentals. In France, small islands like Île-de-Bréhat have introduced daily quotas to protect fragile ecosystems.
Unlike the American and Canadian approaches, these European measures are not framed as protectionist. They are environmental, social and cultural in justification. Yet the message to travellers is unmistakable -- the welcome is no longer certain. Visitors are to come on the host’s terms, for limited durations, and preferably in smaller numbers. The age of unfettered mass tourism when cruise ships could disgorge thousands into a medieval town is being reined in by both public pressure and political will.
At the heart of Europe’s restrictions lies the growing resentment of local residents, many of whom feel that tourism has eroded the livability of their cities. The charm that attracts millions of visitors each year - narrow alleys, historic quarters tranquil plazas - has, paradoxically, been destroyed by their presence. What used to be “welcome to our city” is increasingly replaced by “please, not so many of you.”
The sheer number of tourists in some destinations has created conflict between locals and visitors. Cruises, buses, planes and rental cars are making cities more crowded and polluted. Golf courses and swimming pools compete with other industries and local residents for water, contributing to shortages in drought-stricken areas. The growth of platforms, such as AirBnB, which facilitate private rentals of residential properties, has driven up rents. Graffiti demanding “Tourists go home” is daubed on walls across Mediterranean cities. In recent months, anti-tourism protests have broken out in Tenerife and Barcelona in Spain, Venice in Italy and in Lisbon in Portugal, Bloomberg has reported. In Greece, workers protested against the industry's long hours and low wages, while people in Athens’ Koukaki district protested increasing rental prices with graffiti reading: “Airbnb everywhere, neighbors nowhere.”
You are welcome in the West, but on terms and conditions
Taken together, these developments point to a profound transformation in how Western societies perceive mobility. For decades, travel to the West symbolised the best and the smoothest tourist experience. Now, there is a climate of control and caution. In the US and Canada, the trend is bureaucratic with new gatekeeping norms. In Europe, it is social and cultural. But the result is the same. The tourist is no longer a neutral guest but a potential problem to be managed. Even for travellers who meet every requirement and pay every tax, the experience of Western tourism is changing. The extra paperwork, higher costs and subtle hostility from some locals are beginning to challenge the long-standing tourists expectations.
America's new gatekeeping rules can apply to tourists too
The US has always applied a detailed vetting process to immigrants, but the recent directive from the State Department marks a new chapter, one that blurs the line between immigrant scrutiny and tourist oversight. The new rules require visa officers to consider an applicant’s health when evaluating whether they might become a “public charge,” or a future burden on the state. On paper, this might sound like a routine administrative update. In practice, it opens the door to deeply subjective judgments about an applicant’s fitness.
Health checks have long been part of the immigration process. Applicants for US visas and green cards must undergo medical examinations by approved physicians to screen for communicable diseases such as tuberculosis and to verify vaccination records. What’s new is the expansion of what counts as a potential health risk. The latest directive allows consular officers to consider a broader range of chronic and non-communicable conditions and to make subjective judgments.
By explicitly citing conditions such as obesity, a non-communicable and globally widespread health issue, the directive takes health norms to an extreme. The American visa process will no longer be merely about whether travellers pose a security or epidemiological or economic risk, but whether their potential health problems make them undesirable. Even though this rule is expected to apply mainly to immigrant visas, the language technically extends to all categories, including tourist (B-1/B-2) and student (F-1) visas. This means that, in theory, even a tourist could be turned away for medical reasons such as obesity.
This is not an isolated bureaucratic adjustment but a reflection of a larger political climate where the boundary between visitor and potentially burdensome immigrant has blurred.
Canada tightens visitor norms
Across the northern border, Canada, often perceived as more welcoming and predictable than its southern neighbour, is undergoing its own transformation. Immigration, Refugees and Citizenship Canada (IRCC) recently introduced new operational guidelines empowering officers to cancel temporary resident documents, including visitor visas, study permits, work permits, and electronic travel authorisations, if a holder fails to meet ongoing eligibility or admissibility requirements.
The measure, announced on November 4, 2025, gives the Canadian government unprecedented discretion to revoke permissions already granted. A tourist or student who falls out of compliance, even inadvertently, could suddenly find himself without legal standing. Although the policy is aimed as a technical safeguard to maintain system integrity, it also injects a new layer of uncertainty into the experience of visiting Canada.
This tightening reflects a broader shift in Canadian immigration and border management. Once known for its liberal visa policies and warm rhetoric toward newcomers, Canada is now balancing that openness with concerns about overstays, irregular work and the strain of population growth on housing and healthcare systems. The result is a more conditional form of hospitality, where a visa is less an invitation and more a licence that can be revoked with subjective judgment.
Europe too is getting tired of tourists
While North America’s barriers for visitors are administrative and legal, Europe’s are cultural and environmental. The problem here is not the fear of foreigners staying forever but that too many come too often, and all at once. From Venice’s day-tripper fees to Amsterdam’s caps on hotel capacity, European cities have begun placing explicit limits on how many visitors they can handle. In Greece, the Acropolis now admits visitors by timed slots. In Spain, regions like Catalonia are raising tourist taxes and banning new holiday rentals. In France, small islands like Île-de-Bréhat have introduced daily quotas to protect fragile ecosystems.
Unlike the American and Canadian approaches, these European measures are not framed as protectionist. They are environmental, social and cultural in justification. Yet the message to travellers is unmistakable -- the welcome is no longer certain. Visitors are to come on the host’s terms, for limited durations, and preferably in smaller numbers. The age of unfettered mass tourism when cruise ships could disgorge thousands into a medieval town is being reined in by both public pressure and political will.
At the heart of Europe’s restrictions lies the growing resentment of local residents, many of whom feel that tourism has eroded the livability of their cities. The charm that attracts millions of visitors each year - narrow alleys, historic quarters tranquil plazas - has, paradoxically, been destroyed by their presence. What used to be “welcome to our city” is increasingly replaced by “please, not so many of you.”
The sheer number of tourists in some destinations has created conflict between locals and visitors. Cruises, buses, planes and rental cars are making cities more crowded and polluted. Golf courses and swimming pools compete with other industries and local residents for water, contributing to shortages in drought-stricken areas. The growth of platforms, such as AirBnB, which facilitate private rentals of residential properties, has driven up rents. Graffiti demanding “Tourists go home” is daubed on walls across Mediterranean cities. In recent months, anti-tourism protests have broken out in Tenerife and Barcelona in Spain, Venice in Italy and in Lisbon in Portugal, Bloomberg has reported. In Greece, workers protested against the industry's long hours and low wages, while people in Athens’ Koukaki district protested increasing rental prices with graffiti reading: “Airbnb everywhere, neighbors nowhere.”
You are welcome in the West, but on terms and conditions
Taken together, these developments point to a profound transformation in how Western societies perceive mobility. For decades, travel to the West symbolised the best and the smoothest tourist experience. Now, there is a climate of control and caution. In the US and Canada, the trend is bureaucratic with new gatekeeping norms. In Europe, it is social and cultural. But the result is the same. The tourist is no longer a neutral guest but a potential problem to be managed. Even for travellers who meet every requirement and pay every tax, the experience of Western tourism is changing. The extra paperwork, higher costs and subtle hostility from some locals are beginning to challenge the long-standing tourists expectations.
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