The treatment of illegalized migrants in Western liberal states has been often characterized by a duality of compassion and repression. Within this dyad, repression is said to be applied with the right hand of the state by the police, border control, refugee status determination units, etc., and compassion with its left hand by social workers, medical staff, as well as civil society organizations and humanitarian agencies. Drawing on the toil of deportation caseworkers in the Netherlands, this article argues that compassion is prevalent not only among those who show benevolence and support illegalized migrants but also among many who work on the repressive side of the divide. However, expressions of compassion by deportation caseworkers do not seem to mitigate an otherwise repressive bureaucratic work. Instead, compassion often helps caseworkers to furnish a comfort zone in which emotions can be discharged and from which caseworkers neutralize potentially disruptive affective dynamics by experiencing them as intrinsic to the law they implement. Compassion not only fails to produce vertical commonality with deportable migrants in vulnerable positions; it also willfully fosters the self-image of civil servants as humane and sensitive actors as they effectively implement controversial state policies.

Despite its ongoing federal illegality, marijuana production has become a licit, or socially accepted, feature of northern California's real estate market. As such, marijuana is a key component of land values and the laundering of "illegal" wealth into legitimate circulation. By following land transaction practices, relations, and instruments, this article shows how formally equal property transactions become substantively unequal in light of the "il/legal" dynamics of marijuana land use. As marijuana becomes licit, prohibitionist policies have enabled the capture of ground rent by landed interests from the marijuana industry at a time when the price of marijuana is declining (in part due to its increasing licitness). The resulting "drug war nexus," a state-land-finance complex, is becoming a key, if obscured, component within marijuana's contemporary political economy.