On March 12, 2026, the United States Trade Representative launched Section 301 investigations into 60 of its largest trading partners — Canada, China, the European Union, Mexico, the United Kingdom, and dozens more — to determine whether they have failed to ban imports produced with forced labour. The announcement was framed as a moral stand against exploitation. It may be the most revealing act of selective outrage in recent trade history. Because the country pointing the finger has never turned it on itself.
60 Countries in the Dock — One Missing
US Trade Representative Jamieson Greer framed the investigations in blunt terms: foreign governments have "failed to impose and effectively enforce measures banning goods produced with forced labour," and that failure "burdens or restricts US commerce." The list of targets spans every region of the globe — from geopolitical rivals like China and Russia to close allies such as Canada, Australia, and Norway. The message was unmistakable: no one gets a pass.
Except, of course, the United States itself.
Forced labour is not a distant problem that arrives at American ports in foreign shipping containers. It is embedded in American fields, slaughterhouses, detention centres, and prison facilities — generating billions of dollars in goods and services that move through supply chains and, in some cases, across borders. Any serious reckoning with forced labour in global trade must eventually confront what is happening on American soil. Washington has shown no appetite for that conversation.
The Prison Workforce Behind the Supply Chain
Nearly 2 million people are incarcerated in the United States, and roughly three-quarters of them are required to work. Across federal and state prison systems, incarcerated workers generate an estimated 11 billion US dollars in goods and services each year — everything from agricultural products and auto parts to textiles and electronics components. The wages they receive for this labour are often a few cents to a few dollars per day. Refusing to work is rarely a neutral choice: prisoners who decline assignments can face solitary confinement, loss of parole eligibility, transfer to more dangerous facilities, or denial of basic necessities.
Under any standard application of the International Labour Organization's forced labour indicators — which the ILO updated in 2025 to sharpen the definition of coercion, deception, and abuse of vulnerability — this arrangement is difficult to distinguish from forced labour. Workers cannot meaningfully withhold consent when the consequence of refusal is punishment and prolonged incarceration. Goods produced in this system enter domestic supply chains and, in documented cases, cross into export markets — including markets that Washington has placed under Section 301 scrutiny for their own forced labour practices.
Detention Centres and the Fiction of Voluntary Work
The picture inside immigration detention is no less troubling. Across more than 200 Immigration and Customs Enforcement detention facilities — many operated by private corporations like GEO Group and CoreCivic, which collectively receive over 1.2 billion US dollars annually from ICE — migrants awaiting immigration proceedings are drawn into so-called voluntary work programmes. Detainees clean, cook, and maintain facilities for stipends as low as one dollar per day.
Advocates and former detainees have consistently described conditions in which the word "voluntary" is a legal fiction. Workers who decline face isolation, loss of privileges, or denial of basic goods. ICE detainee numbers surged more than 30 percent above late-2024 levels as the current administration expanded detention capacity, meaning this system is growing — not shrinking — at the very moment Washington is lecturing 60 other governments about forced labour in their supply chains.
Fields, Slaughterhouses, and the Guestworker Trap
Beyond the carceral system, forced labour in the United States extends into the open economy — into the fields, processing plants, and worksites that produce the food Americans eat and the goods they consume. The H-2A and H-2B visa programmes bring hundreds of thousands of temporary workers into the country each year for agricultural and non-agricultural seasonal jobs. On paper, these are legal employment pathways. In practice, a structural design that ties workers to a single employer creates the conditions for systematic exploitation.
A 2025 report by Business and Human Rights Resource Centre found that the United States accounted for the highest number of tracked cases of migrant worker abuse globally in 2024 — 94 documented cases — with 49 percent of them involving farmworkers. Employer-tied visas, the report noted, exacerbated migrants' risk of abuse by making workers dependent on their employer's approval to change jobs, and enabled companies to push migrants into undocumented status through wrongful dismissal or failure to renew visas. Workers who complained faced intimidation, deportation threats, and dismissal.
Documented abuses in the guestworker system include illegal recruitment fees that leave workers in debt bondage before they even arrive, confiscated passports and identity documents, failure to reimburse visa and travel costs, unsafe housing, and wages that fall below what was promised in recruitment materials. In one high-profile case, a South Carolina labour contractor was convicted and ordered to pay over 500,000 US dollars in restitution for exploiting H-2A agricultural workers. In another, hundreds of Indian H-2B workers recruited after Hurricane Katrina were lured with promises of green cards and decent housing, then found themselves living in overcrowded camps, trapped by debt to recruiters, and threatened when they tried to organize.
A 2025 Economic Policy Institute analysis of the H-2B programme found that certified H-2B wages are legally undercutting national wage standards across major occupational categories — meaning the programme is not just vulnerable to abuse, it is structurally designed to suppress wages for both migrant and domestic workers alike.
Children on the Slaughterhouse Floor
The exploitation of vulnerable workers in the U.S. food system is not limited to adults. In January 2025, two of the largest meat processing companies in the United States — Perdue Farms and JBS USA — agreed to pay a combined $ 8 million following Department of Labor findings that both companies had employed migrant children in hazardous overnight cleaning jobs in slaughterhouses. JBS, the nation's leading meatpacker, agreed to a 4-million-dollar settlement that included restitution to affected individuals and communities.
These settlements came at the end of the Biden administration. The companies involved are multinationals with export operations that reach into many of the same markets Washington is now investigating under Section 301. The irony is precise: the U.S. is threatening trade penalties against countries that fail to block goods made with forced or exploited labour, while its own meatpacking industry was, until very recently, operating with child labour in conditions a federal agency deemed unlawful.
Fear as a Management Tool
The current administration's aggressive immigration enforcement has added a new and particularly dangerous dimension to labour exploitation in the United States. ICE worksite raids — which expanded dramatically in 2025 — have created a climate of fear across agriculture, meatpacking, food processing, and construction. When workers are afraid that raising a complaint will result in deportation rather than redress, exploitation thrives.
The Business and Human Rights Resource Centre's 2025 data noted a sharp and unprecedented rise in cases where migrant workers were arrested or deported while simultaneously experiencing labour rights violations at the hands of their employers. Workers became more isolated, working conditions declined, and employers gained greater leverage precisely because enforcement was pointed at workers rather than at the companies exploiting them. The National Human Trafficking Hotline received reports of 11,999 potential human trafficking cases in 2024, referencing nearly 22,000 potential victims — figures that reflect the surface of a much larger problem that fear and precarity keep submerged.
Agriculture Secretary Brooke Rollins declared in 2025 that the U.S. farm workforce would soon be entirely American. Yet the Department of Labor simultaneously introduced H-2A rule changes that, by its own admission, are likely to push domestic farmworkers out of the sector — creating conditions for deeper reliance on temporary migrant workers, precisely the population most vulnerable to exploitation. The administration is engineering the conditions for forced labour while simultaneously prosecuting other countries for tolerating it.
The Standard Washington Won't Apply to Itself
The United States is not wrong to push for stronger global enforcement against forced labour. The ILO's indicators are clear, the moral case is compelling, and the economic distortion created when forced labour undercuts production costs is real. Section 301 is a legitimate trade instrument, and there are genuine abuses in the supply chains of many of the 60 economies now under investigation.
But legitimacy requires consistency. When USTR Representative Greer says that American workers and firms "have been forced to compete against foreign producers who may have an artificial cost advantage gained from the scourge of forced labour," he is describing exactly what happens when American companies use prison labour at cents per hour, guestworkers trapped by debt and employer-tied visas, undocumented migrants silenced by deportation threats, or migrant children cleaning slaughterhouses at night. Each of those arrangements confers a cost advantage. Each of them involves a workforce that cannot meaningfully refuse. Each of them would fail the ILO's own forced labour test.
The real measure of Washington's commitment to ending forced labour is not the length of its investigation list. It is whether the standard it applies to Bangladesh and Brazil is one it is willing to apply to Alabama and Arizona.
Until that happens, these Section 301 investigations will function as they always have: as trade pressure dressed in the language of human rights, selectively deployed against competitors and allies alike, while the most structurally embedded abuses at home remain invisible — not because they are hidden, but because no one in power has any interest in finding them.
Previously on The Collective Brief:
If Jesus Were Alive Today, They Would Call Him a Communist
Three Tyrants and a War: Don’t Let Trump and Netanyahu’s Attack on Iran Fool You
The Deportation Lie: How Trump Turned Immigrants into a Detention Economy
— The Collective Brief | March 2026 | Hamilton, Ontario, Canada
