U.S. government to collect biometric data not only from immigrants but from U.S. citizens

In early November, the U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services (USCIS) published a proposed rule in the Federal Register that would dramatically expand the government’s authority to gather and store biometric data. The modern immigration system already asks for fingerprints and photos.

But this proposal would take it much further, authorizing the collection of DNA, iris and retinal scans, palm prints, voice patterns, and even handwriting signatures from nearly anyone connected to an immigration petition.

The scope is staggering. Under the proposal, there is no age limit and no citizenship exemption. A U.S. citizen sponsoring a spouse, a green-card holder filing for a parent, a business executive signing immigration paperwork for an employee—all could be required to submit biometric data.

Children under 14, previously exempt from routine collection, would no longer be spared. Even the owners and managers of EB-5 regional centers—who are themselves often American citizens—would be subject to continuous identity monitoring.

The government’s argument is familiar: enhanced verification, fraud prevention, national security, and child-trafficking deterrence. DHS says repeat biometric checks are necessary to ensure that an individual’s identity is consistent throughout the years-long immigration journey, all the way until naturalization.

In other words, the system would shift from episodic screening to continuous vetting, a model in which a person’s biometrics can be re-analyzed and cross-checked across databases at any time.

But the implications reach far beyond fraud prevention. For the first time, the federal government would collect—and permanently store—DNA profiles not only from non-citizens but also from U.S. citizens who merely support a relative’s immigration application.

Previously, DNA was used sparingly and destroyed after verification. Under the new proposal, the information could be retained indefinitely and shared with DHS components or law-enforcement agencies whenever deemed “necessary.”
Critics say this crosses a line. Immigrant-rights organizations warn that the policy represents a slow but deliberate shift toward a surveillance state.

Once collected, biometric data cannot be “forgotten.” Its storage creates the potential for future uses that extend beyond immigration: criminal investigations, intelligence queries, or yet-to-be-imagined databases. What begins as an identity-verification tool can grow into a platform for tracking whole categories of people.

The proposal’s breadth also raises questions of proportionality. Why should a U.S. citizen filing paperwork for a foreign-born spouse be forced to surrender their DNA? Why should a 7-year-old child entering the country for the first time be scanned, cataloged, and stored in a database that may follow them for life?

The government insists these measures are necessary to strengthen national security. Yet national security rhetoric has historically been used to justify policies that later proved unnecessary, overreaching, or discriminatory.

There are also practical concerns. USCIS estimates that more than 1.12 million additional people per year will be required to provide biometrics, at a cost of roughly $2.31 billion over the next decade. Immigration attorneys warn that collecting, processing, and storing such volumes of biometric data could slow down an already backlogged system.

Employers fear new requirements will complicate hiring and increase compliance costs. And technical experts note that large biometric databases carry cybersecurity risks—breaches involving fingerprints or DNA are far more devastating than stolen passwords, because biometrics cannot be changed.

This is not the first time the idea has surfaced. The Trump administration pursued similar authority during its first term, proposing to expand biometrics well beyond fingerprints. At the time, civil-rights groups denounced the plan as a step toward building a massive identity-tracking apparatus.

After intense public and legal pushback, the Biden administration quietly withdrew the proposal. Now, with little fanfare and even less public awareness, the policy has returned—this time under a different political environment, but with the same foundational questions about liberty, oversight, and power.

Supporters argue that the world has changed, and immigration systems must evolve to address transnational crime, trafficking networks, and identity fraud. That is true. But the issue is not whether biometrics should be used—they already are. The real debate is how far the government should reach into the personal biological data of not only immigrants but American citizens and children who happen to be connected to the immigration system.

Every democracy must balance security with individual rights. The government has a legitimate interest in verifying identities and preventing fraud. But a policy that treats millions of people—citizens included—as perpetual subjects of biometric monitoring risks tipping that balance in favor of a permanent surveillance infrastructure.

Before this proposal becomes policy, Americans should ask themselves a simple question:
How much of our biological identity should the government be allowed to own?

Public comments remain open through January 2. It is a rare opportunity to speak before the rules of the immigration system—and the boundaries of personal privacy—are rewritten for a generation.

By Mooyoung Lee  [lee.mooyoung@koreadaily.com]