Despite calling itself a nation based on human rights, Taiwan continues to let migrant workers remain subject to the pressures of debt, precarity and fear in the workplace. This is not the institutional progress we expect; it is a distortion of our values.
These so-called “ghost workers,” sidelined to the fringes of society, are evidence of what Taiwan still finds to be an uncomfortable reality: Despite being critical to our factories, care systems and daily life, migrant workers pay a much higher price than local workers in accessing basic labor rights, including lodging appeals, resignations and accessing financial relief.
Recent reports have once again illustrated how many migrants, after paying brokerage fees and being saddled with debt, are forced to remain in exploitative situations, working overtime, and dealing with occupational injuries or poor conditions. The question is not whether Taiwan has laws to address this; it is whether the laws are being upheld to protect workers’ rights.
For many of the workers, quitting would mean losing their income while remaining in debt, putting even more pressure on their household finances. For most, this is not a realistic option.
Taiwan needs to reassess how narrowly it thinks about forced labor. It does not only occur in the most extreme fringe cases, but more often comes as institutionally packaged controls: debt burdens, document confiscations, resignation restrictions, abuses of power and costly repercussions for those who file for appeals. The same story is playing out across industry and administrative lines for migrants from a range of countries. This can no longer be dismissed as a handful of isolated cases; root institutional design flaws must finally be acknowledged.
The situation for migrant domestic workers and in-home caregivers must also not be ignored. Taiwan’s long-term care system is under serious strain and families are feeling the pressure, but that cannot be grounds for the flattening of worker protections. It is difficult to exercise oversight for workforces that operate inside private homes in the first place; add to this ill-defined working hours, insufficient breaks and fear about asking for help and the risks only multiply.
Deficiencies in the long-term care sector must be addressed from within, rather than outsourcing their costs to marginalized labor.
The direction for reform is clear:
First, recruitment fees and associated costs can no longer be passed on to workers, and a mechanism to trace, audit and offer compensation for these charges should be established.
Second, the rights of migrant workers to change employers should receive full implementation and protections to ensure that they can leave exploitative situations safely.
Third, mistreated workers who file appeals must be supported in post with resettlement, legal support and transfer options.
Fourth, reforms to migrant domestic worker protections must have a clear timeline; they cannot be put off indefinitely because of in-home care’s unique circumstances. Taiwan’s issue is not that the law is not clear, but that institutions are not working to properly protect the rights and dignity of underprivileged people.
If we use migrant workers to plug labor shortages and then deny them the ability to escape exploitation, it is not just migrant rights under threat, but the very quality of rule of law which Taiwan prides itself on.
Democracy is no slogan, and its bench test is whether society’s most vulnerable people can exercise their basic rights.
Steve Ho is a retired engineer.
Translated by Gilda Knox Streader
KMT Chairwoman Cheng Li-wun’s (鄭麗文) recent visit to Beijing and her upcoming visit to Washington will serve as a high-level test of her diplomatic mettle. In Beijing, Cheng was received with symbolic gestures, a warm reception, and high-level access. In Washington, she will receive far less pomp and far sharper questions about the KMT’s vision for the future of Taiwan. Her challenge will be to persuade Washington that the KMT’s engagement with China can coexist with strong deterrence. Cheng’s April 7-12 visit to mainland China coincided with an intense period of conflict in Iran. Despite the strategic significance of Cheng’s trip,
The closure of the Strait of Hormuz has sent the vast Asian chemicals industry into a tailspin. Deprived of the likes of Qatari natural gas and Saudi Arabian oil, the region’s fertilizer and plastics plants are slowing production or even shutting down. Everywhere except China, that is. In petrochemicals, China is unique. As well as a traditional industry that uses oil and gas as feedstock, it has parallel output that relies on its abundant domestic coal. Unsurprisingly, India and other regional powers want to copy and paste the Chinese method. This would not be easy — or climate friendly. The
History might remember 2026, not 2022, as the year artificial intelligence (AI) truly changed everything. ChatGPT’s launch was a product moment. What is happening now is an anthropological moment: AI is no longer merely answering questions. It is now taking initiative and learning from others to get things done, behaving less like software and more like a colleague. The economic consequence is the rise of the one-person company — a structure anticipated in the 2024 book The Choices Amid Great Changes, which I coauthored. The real target of AI is not labor. It is hierarchy. When AI sharply reduces the cost
US President Donald Trump recently repeated his claim that “Taiwan stole America’s chip industry,” reigniting public debate on the issue. As a former Taiwanese minister of economic affairs and an entrepreneur deeply involved in semiconductor supply chain development, I feel a responsibility to clarify this misunderstanding. From the perspective of global industrial evolution and the economic principle of comparative advantage, such a statement appears overly simplistic and risks obscuring the essence of the issue. The rise of Taiwan’s semiconductor industry was not built on “replacing America,” but rather emerged as a result of countries pursuing different development paths within the