Is ‘gaming the system’ in Mexico still a good economic solution for US citizens?

Mexico has always been a popular destination with foreign migrants. Indeed, Americans make up the largest immigrant group in the country. It’s easy to see what attracts people here: a vibrant culture, gorgeous natural landscapes, delicious food. And, really, that’s only a fraction of the praises we typically sing.

But there’s another major reason as well, one that I’ve heard said over and over: “I just couldn’t afford to live in the U.S. anymore.”

Generations of US economic refugees in Mexico

I’ve most often heard this phrase from retirees. Whereas their monthly Social Security checks would have them living in virtual poverty in the United States, depending on where they are in Mexico, that money stretches just fine.

But retirees aren’t the only ones who have moved to Mexico at least partly as economic refugees. Increasingly, younger people and families with kids have taken the plunge and moved here. This is often couched in the language of “a more relaxed way of life,” or “slowing down and being able to spend time with my kids.” 

The only way you can have a more relaxed way of life, of course, is if you don’t have to work 60 hours a week just to put food on the table.

Economically, there are two major types of permanent and semipermanent immigrants from the north in Mexico.

There are retirees who mostly made their money at a time when a hard worker could, with reasonable effort, get the basics needed to live, plus some. In addition to working hard, labor laws were strong, and jobs with benefits and pensions were the norm. They mostly went to college when you could cover college payments with summer-job wages at McDonald’s. Housing was affordable, and buying a home was a reasonable expectation. This was especially true for college-educated people, but also true for many who’d simply “worked their way up” in their respective industries since high school.

At least until retirement age, the system worked for many the way it was supposed to.

As a result, those who wanted to were able to “cash out” upon retirement in the U.S. It’s a great deal: Proceeds from U.S. home sales can go quite far to buy or build in Mexico, and savings, pensions and Social Security stretch quite a bit further here than they do in the U.S. Though Mexican prices have been rising, just like they have in the rest of the world, things like healthcare and food are wildly inexpensive by comparison. And, of course, for many other noneconomic reasons, Mexico makes for the perfect retirement place.

I don’t begrudge these folks. They worked hard and are now enjoying the fruits of their labor in retirement, which is how it should be. I do think, however, that they should be able to enjoy retirement just as much in their home countries.

Alas, save for the wealthiest, the U.S. specifically is becoming less affordable by the minute. Thankfully, Mexico is a beautiful, affordable safety net for some well-deserved relaxing.

‘Gaming the system’ is decreasingly an option

But for my own generation of immigrants — younger people, some with families and kids —things are different, and getting different-er, fast. The willingness to work hard has not gone away. The education and skill level, if anything, have increased. But we’re in the unfortunate position of being workers during a time when “working hard” is simply not enough. 

Everyone can control how hard they work. Precious few can control how much they’re charged for basic things like housing. Everyone can apply for jobs they qualify for. No one can force someone to hire them. Another thing we can’t do? Oblige wages to keep up with the cost of living or inflation.

So, as many people my age have discovered, working online and living in Mexico offers a lovely reprieve. Time with your kids. Being able to afford going out to eat. Going to the doctor when you need to without waiting for months, only for insurance to later decide you don’t need the treatment after all, and now you have the choice of either buying it out of pocket or paying your rent.

But you can only “game the system” as long as the system stays stable. And this is not a time of great stability, my friends.

For many younger professional immigrants, including myself, the ability to work online was a godsend. While it hasn’t allowed me to purchase anything extravagant like a house, it has allowed me to comfortably pay rent and raise a kid, which is a lot more than plenty of workers in my home country can say. And while I personally would live in Mexico anyway, many others came, in part, because of this ability to earn good money relative to the cost of living.

This has generated some friction locally, especially given all the media hype about “digital nomads” during the pandemic. This is understandable. After all, if I were a Mexican just as educated and skilled as my U.S. counterpart, I’d feel resentful of the fact that, because of where I was born, my earning potential was roughly a fourth of theirs, thanks to their access to the U.S. job market. Add to that the norm becoming 100-peso lattes and inaccessible rents thanks to these newcomers and I’d be downright furious. At least they’ve got their families here for support.

But this temporary fix for the unaffordable U.S. economy is, I fear, coming to a close. Those online jobs? Suddenly, they’re not so easy to get, and the economic uncertainty brought on in part by all-over-the-place tariffs means that plenty of companies aren’t eager to do much hiring. Throw AI into the mix, and the situation gets trickier still.

Speaking of AI, it’s become the new bottom in the “race to the bottom” for companies looking to save on labor. AI predictably came for the translation jobs I used to make a living at, and it’s only a matter of time before it comes for what I’m doing now. Some AI experts predict that within only a few years, virtually all jobs that are done “in front of a computer” — that is, white-collar jobs — will be easily done by AI alone.

Whether in the U.S. or Mexico, this is bad news in a system where one must either already have money or earn money in order to get life’s necessities. The disadvantage that U.S. immigrants to Mexico have to Mexicans here, though, is the lack of family support systems that Mexicans rely on.

About a week ago, I was feeling very depressed. The prospect of a promised job contract seemed suddenly shaky, and I was worried, again, the way one might be while standing on a rock in the middle of a river and seeing the other rocks you might hop on to reach land sinking.

But then I went to a café, where I joined our small “foreigners breakfast” group. And it reminded me: I’m not alone. 

We’re not alone, fellow migrants. We can create new systems for ourselves; humans have certainly done it before. We can band together, and we can support each other.

You know, like Mexicans do.