The Truth About the Border Wall

Build the wall - where it makes sense - in high traffic zones, not remote wilderness

Donald Trump’s 2016 promise to “build the wall” was one of the most memorable slogans in modern political history. But nearly a decade later, it’s also become one of the clearest examples of how symbolic politics can metastasize into bloated, ineffective government spending.

Yes, we should build the wall - where it makes sense. High-traffic corridors with heavy cartel activity and overwhelmed Border Patrol units absolutely warrant fortified infrastructure. But pushing that logic into the remote deserts and wilderness of the American Southwest is where common sense breaks down. These aren’t hubs of illegal activity —they’re largely untraveled, rugged lands. Constructing a wall in such terrain is not only a fiscal mistake, it’s an environmental one.

The CBP has estimated that the border wall will cost approximately $6.5 million per mile. The U.S.–Mexico border is roughly 1,392 miles, so rough costs are at $9.05 billion. Even that falls below broader expense projections from $12 billion and up. In Texas alone, the Texas Facilities Commission estimates $25 million to $30 million per mile. At the high end, covering the 805-mile Texas border could cost $24.15 billion.

More staggering still: the total amount of money approved for the wall - including in the recently passed House bill known as the "One Big Beautiful Bill Act" - has now reached $46.5 billion. That equates to over $100 million per new mile, depending on how the numbers are calculated. This isn’t sound border policy, it’s budgetary absurdity, and an astonishing sum for what, in many places, has become little more than a symbolic monument.

Beyond economics, the environmental consequences are substantial. Construction in these desert landscapes will destabilize fragile geological formations, increasing the risk of rockslides, flash flooding, and fastforward long-term ecological degradation. These barriers will fracture wildlife corridors, divide animal populations, and disrupt ecosystems that have remained intact for centuries. They may even separate parental units - like bears, the critically endangered Mexican gray wolf, or the jaguar - not to mention smaller species and fragile native plants, all of which are vulnerable to habitat fragmentation.

Independent environmental assessments estimate that more than 90 federally listed or at-risk species stand to lose habitat or migratory range if wall infrastructure is extended indiscriminately across the entire border. Of course, some critics dismiss the very notion of federally protected species, viewing it as symbolic of bureaucratic overreach. But that’s a false dichotomy. Pragmatism, common sense, and a duty to protect what genuinely needs our protection should prevail.

And then there’s the issue no one talks about enough: floodlights. According to 2023 estimates, more than 1,800 high-powered stadium-style lights would be installed along certain stretches of the border wall. These aren’t ordinary fixtures - they operate at industrial scale, illuminating vast areas throughout the night. The result is an uninterrupted corridor of light pollution, cutting directly through some of North America’s most ecologically sensitive desert regions. For nocturnal wildlife, especially endangered species, this is catastrophic. Migration routes are disrupted. Breeding cycles are distorted. Entire ecosystems are thrown off rhythm. We aren’t just walling off land, we’re lighting it up like a prison yard, 1,800 times over.

And here’s the real irony: by building roads, power lines, and infrastructure into previously inaccessible stretches of desert, we may actually encourage illegal activity over time. Infrastructure invites movement. What was once impassable terrain becomes a newly opened corridor—thanks to us.

Common sense - not political performance - should guide border policy (or maybe ALL OUR POLICIES!!). We already have high-tech capabilities: satellites, sensors, and aerial surveillance that can monitor even the most remote regions with precision. We also have the National Guard and defense infrastructure to respond as needed. These tools cost less, adapt faster, and don’t leave a permanent scar on the land.

And while I’m not a defense industry expert, it seems clear that deploying new surveillance technologies along the border could serve a dual purpose: improving border control while also providing a practical training ground for systems eventually used in real-world conflict zones.

Conservatives don’t need to choose between open borders and wasteful monuments. There is a third path: serious enforcement guided by strategic thinking. The solution is not to bulldoze wilderness in service of a campaign slogan—it’s to deploy what works, where it works.

If we don’t get that balance right, the wall won’t symbolize security. It will symbolize the collapse of modern conservative judgment and fiscal responsibility. There is certainly a better way forward.