I Was an Asylum Officer. This Is What I’m Seeing Now From the Outside

I rarely write from this perspective, but it feels necessary today.

Before I was an immigration attorney, I served as an asylum officer under both the Obama and Trump administrations. I worked in what is known as the affirmative asylum process, which means I interviewed individuals who voluntarily applied for asylum with USCIS rather than those already in removal proceedings before an immigration judge.

That distinction matters.

Affirmative asylum was designed to be non adversarial. As officers, we were not prosecutors. We were not there to win. We were trained to elicit testimony, assess credibility, and determine whether someone met the legal standard for protection. The goal was truth finding, not opposition.

I no longer have an inside track. I am on the outside now, representing clients. However, from where I sit, some things are noticeably different and not in subtle ways.

I used to take pride in the respect I had for DHS because I had been on the other side. I understood the pressures, the training, the responsibility. I defended the system often. Now the signs are not just noticeable. They are glowering and dangerous.

To be clear, these are observations from the outside. I do not claim to know current internal USCIS policy, but patterns matter. These patterns are deeply concerning.

The Disappearance of Non-Adversarial Attitudes

In training, the phrase “non-adversarial “was drilled into us constantly. We were taught not to take sides, not to act as a prosecutor, and not to approach interviews with suspicion as a starting point. Our job was to find the truth, not to challenge the applicant at every turn.

Over the years, I maintained strong relationships with asylum offices across the country. There was mutual respect between officers and advocates. Even when we disagreed, there was professionalism.

Recently, I have noticed a shift.

Of course, there are some asylum officers who have been nothing but professional and lovely to work with, but there is a growing tone of hostility overall, not just toward attorneys but toward applicants themselves. Interactions that were once neutral now feel adversarial. Requests are met with resistance and basic professional courtesy feels inconsistent. That shift alone changes everything about how these cases are experienced.

The End of the One Reschedule Safety Net

There used to be an understanding that life happens. Medical emergencies, childcare crises, interpreter issues. As officers, we knew that if something legitimate came up, a reschedule was possible. Typically one, sometimes more depending on the circumstances.

Now, that safety net appears to be gone.

From what I am seeing, even requesting a reschedule can trigger a referral to immigration court. Emergencies are not being accommodated in the way they once were. What used to be a procedural adjustment is now treated as a substantive failure. For an affirmative asylum case, a referral is not neutral. It can be devastating.

The practical effect is chilling. Clients are forced to proceed unprepared or face immediate consequences.

Referrals Without Interviews

This is one of the most alarming developments.

We are increasingly seeing referrals to immigration court without an interview ever taking place. Reasons I have encountered include a translator being deemed unfit, minor technical errors in the application, or administrative issues that previously would have been corrected or addressed. Once my client was marked as a “no show” because the asylum officer had an issue with their monitor.

Historically, the interview was the heart of the process. It was where credibility was assessed, facts were clarified, and protection claims were fully explored. Now, it appears that in some cases, the interview is being bypassed entirely.

When that happens, the system is no longer functioning as designed.

Shifting Evidence Standards Without Guidance

When I was trained, we were taught that an I 589 and credible testimony alone can be sufficient to meet the burden of proof. Corroborating evidence was important, but not always required, especially given the realities asylum seekers face.

Now, evidence must be submitted fourteen days in advance and the definition of sufficient evidence appears to be shifting. What I am seeing are cases with strong testimony being treated as insufficient without extensive documentation, increasing expectations without transparency, and a quiet raising of the evidentiary bar.

The rules are changing, but the instructions are not.

Constant Policy Changes Without Transparency

One of the most difficult aspects right now is the lack of consistency.

We are learning about policy changes through individual officers, office specific practices, and word of mouth among practitioners. There does not appear to be uniform implementation across asylum offices, consistent written guidance, or timely communication to those of us representing applicants. Even more concerning, these changes seem to be happening week to week.

You cannot have a fair system if the rules are constantly shifting without notice.

Lowering the Barrier to Entry for Asylum Officers

I want to be careful here, because I worked alongside truly incredible people at DHS.

When I was hired, I was a Presidential Management Fellow, I was a lawyer, and I had a strong background in immigration law. And still, I felt imposter syndrome because the people around me were deeply knowledgeable, rigorously trained, and committed to getting it right. After being hired, I spent five months at FLETC, away from friends and family, doing nothing but studying asylum law, learning interviewing techniques, understanding country conditions, and practicing decision writing.

It was intense. It was necessary.

Recently, I saw a job posting indicating that a college degree is no longer required for this role. That is not a small change. This is a position that requires legal analysis, trauma informed interviewing, and life or death decision making. If the training and qualifications are being reduced, that has consequences not just for the system but for the people whose lives depend on it.

Final Thoughts

I want to be clear about something: I know there are still incredible people at DHS. I worked alongside them. People who cared deeply about fairness, lost sleep over difficult decisions, and took the responsibility seriously.

RAIO was always meant to be a humanitarian branch.

We were trained to protect the integrity of the system while also protecting the most vulnerable people seeking refuge. Those two goals were not in conflict. They were the mission. However, from where I stand now, representing clients on the outside, I am struggling to see that same balance. What I am seeing instead is a system that feels more rigid, less transparent, and increasingly adversarial.

And that should concern all of us.

Because asylum law was never meant to be easy. But it was always meant to be fair.