When I first arrived in Silicon Valley in 1991, I did so on an H-1B visa. The program was brand new at the time, created to ensure that highly skilled professionals could move quickly into positions where American companies faced genuine gaps in expertise. My own case reflected that original vision perfectly. The U.S. firm that acquired my UK employer needed continuity and leadership in managing the transition of products and markets. I was the senior person left standing after the American parent stripped away the British management team, and my experience as product manager made me indispensable.
The process worked with remarkable speed, and the offer was more than fair. A $75,000 salary in 1991, equivalent to nearly $180,000 today, was a clear acknowledgment of the skills and responsibilities I brought with me. The system was designed to secure talent, not to undercut wages, and for me it delivered exactly what was promised: a career-defining opportunity and a way for an American company to gain the expertise it needed to thrive.

But what worked so well for me in 1991 has, over the decades, drifted far from that original intent. The H-1B program was meant to bring the best and brightest from abroad to fill roles that were difficult to source domestically. Instead, it has increasingly become a pipeline for large outsourcing firms that import entry-level workers at far lower wages than their American counterparts. Where the original standard was senior-level knowledge and proven skill, many visas now go to contractors whose roles could often be filled within the domestic labor pool.
This misuse creates what one former U.S. immigration official has called a “split personality disorder” for the program. Roughly half the visas still go to companies that genuinely need high-level specialists and can offer long-term careers, but the other half are captured by consulting firms whose business model depends on renting out lower-cost workers. That shift undermines both American workers, who see wages suppressed, and skilled foreign professionals, who are often treated as interchangeable resources rather than valued contributors.
The lottery system has further distorted the program. Once a simple way to fairly distribute a limited number of visas, it has been gamed by firms flooding the system with multiple applications. The recent drop in lottery bids, after the government cracked down on such practices, revealed just how much abuse had taken hold.
If the H-1B visa is to remain credible, it needs to return to its original purpose: rewarding specialized knowledge, proven expertise, and long-term commitment. Proposals to allocate visas based on wage levels rather than random chance would be a step in the right direction. They would align the system once again with its founding principle: bringing in the kind of high-value, hard-to-replace professionals that the U.S. economy truly needs.
My own journey in 1991 demonstrates the potential of the H-1B program when it is used as intended. It was a bridge for talent, a tool for competitiveness, and a life-changing opportunity. But unless it is reformed, the program risks being remembered not for what it enabled, but for how it was exploited.



