DONALD TRUMP’s young administration is adept at one particular manoeuvre. Whenever the president is having a terrible time in the press, for some embarrassing statement, interview or imbroglio, the White House announces a far-reaching policy designed to stoke up his nationalist base while infuriating his opponents. In February it was the proposed ban on visitors from seven mainly Muslim countries. Last month it was the announcement on Twitter that he would not let transgender soldiers serve in the military.

In each case, the new policy tends to hurt people who can be portrayed as threatening outsiders to ordinary Americans who work hard and pay their taxes. Yesterday’s announcement to back a months-old plan to overhaul America’s immigration rules falls in the same category. If implemented, it would reward applicants with sought-after job skills who already speak English, at the expense of low-skilled workers without language skills.

This may seem perfectly sensible: after all, skilled immigrants are a good thing. But as an ongoing shortage of farm workers in California shows, unskilled immigrants are just as crucial. Equally, it is a good thing if immigrants speak English. But they need not speak it before arrival: as it is impossible to participate fully in American life without speaking English, the incentive to learn it quickly is overwhelming.

The administration’s emphasis on English skills therefore harks back to an old myth that the linguistic make-up of America, which has been an English-dominant country for a long time, is changing: that the status of English is somehow threatened, especially by Spanish, but more generally by the notion that English is no longer needed in the economy.

The myth goes something like this: today’s immigrants want to come to America to isolate themselves into communities that do not speak English. American policy tacitly encourages this by not being tough enough in requiring English. In the past, immigrants happily learned English quickly; “my grandpa came here from the old country but he refused to speak his old language; he insisted on getting by in his broken English until he was fluent.” But today’s immigrants no longer do so, as multiculturalism has replaced the melting pot.

All of this is wrong. America began as a thin band of English colonies clinging to the eastern coast, vastly outnumbered by speakers of other languages. The foreign-born percentage of the population peaked not last year—the administration likes to talk of “unprecedented” numbers—but in 1890, when the share of foreign-born residents was at an all-time high of 14.8%. This proportion has risen again after declining in the mid-20th century (it stood at 12.9% in the 2010 census). America today has multilingual big cities with their voting instructions in Korean, Chinese and Russian.

Historically, this is the norm rather than the exception: the years from 1925 to 1965, when immigration was almost completely cut off, were unusual. But those born from the 1940s to the 1960s became used to the low numbers of foreign-born residents, regarding this state as normal. That in turn supported a belief that America has always naturally belonged completely to English.

For most of its history, America was precisely the “polyglot boardinghouse” Teddy Roosevelt once worried it would become. That history has turned out very well not just for America, but for English—the most successful language in the history of the world. Along with American power, English has spread around the globe. At home, wave after wave after wave of immigrants to America have not only learned English but forgotten the languages their parents brought with them.

Rather than refusing to learn English, today’s immigrants actually abandon their first language much more readily than previous generations. German, the language spoken by the president’s ancestors, is a case in point. Germans arrived in America in big waves in the middle of the 19th century. Generations later, they were still speaking German at home; a small number were even monolingual in German despite being born in America. Only with America’s entry into the first world war did German-speakers drop their suddenly unpopular language.

Today the typical pattern is that the arriving generation speaks little English, or learns it imperfectly; the first children born in America are bilingual, but English-dominant, and their children hardly speak the heritage language. This is as true of Hispanics as it is of speakers of smaller languages—and all without a lecture from the White House.