As a former refugee who has lived for over three years under the temporary protection visa (TPV) regime under the John Howard government, I know first hand the enormous suffering and anguish it causes. I am also positive that they do not work as deterrent, which is why I question the government's announcement that, using its discretionary powers, it would prevent the 33,000 asylum seekers already in Australia from ever achieving permanent residency.

TPVs did not have an impact on my decision to come over 13 years ago, nor did it influence the 11,000 asylum seekers who arrived between 1999 and 2007 (of which 90% subsequently became accepted as refugees). The numbers of asylum seekers coming by boat have significantly fallen not because of TPVs, but because of the implementation of offshore processing centres in Nauru and Papua New Guinea; last October, Tony Abbott claimed that boat arrivals were down 90%. Even anecdotally, according to my own community contacts, asylum seekers would now rather stop in Indonesia than come by boat. None of them mention TPVs being a deterrent.

Adopting TPVs is bad policy for four reasons:

• It encourage families to get on boats. Let's not forget that most of the 353 men, women and children on board the SIEV X that sank in 2001 had family members living with TPVs in Australia. As they were not allowed to join their loved ones under a legal family reunion program, they had no option other than take a risky journey by boat, often with tragic consequences.

• It actively harms asylum seekers. Numerous studies have shown that TPVs had a negative impact on refugees' mental health: they are living in a permanent limbo, not being able to plan their future, and continuously fear being forcefully returned to their country of origin.

• It reduces community integration. TPV holders will not have access to federally settlement services afforded to those who arrive by air. They are left to rely on government support and their community for help, rather than being able to find a job in order to rebuild a life independently. This also has a long term affect in their ability to learn the language, or connect with wider society.

• It is hugely expensive. The current TPV policy, if implemented, is different than the previous one. It denies permanent protection to TPV holders forever, meaning their visa will be renewed every three years if they're still eligible. It costs millions of dollar to review the ten of thousands of asylum seekers currently in the system.

As to what TPV holders are entitled to – very little. Provisions for access to education under the new TPV scheme are currently unclear, which is extremely alarming. Australia would greatly benefit from refugees' hard work and their thirst for education. Just last week, a daughter of an Afghan former TPV holder in Adelaide, Gulima Eshagali, made to the top her class to study law next year.

Professor Graeme Hugo, who conducted research on behalf of department of immigration, concluded in his 2011 report that refugee and humanitarian entrants, despite traumatic experience, make a significant and unique contribution to the Australian community. So why do we want to make it even more difficult for them to integrate and strive?

If you're thinking Australia's treatment is too generous, consider this: I recently met Mohammad (not his real name), an asylum seeker on a bridging visa. He came to a community-based organisation I work for asking for charity because he could not afford $40 to bring his wife from the hospital after she had given birth three days before.

On the day of his wife's delivery, he could not afford to take her to the hospital by taxi or ambulance. He stayed with his wife, who was in pain, while she waited at the bus stop. He told me "I had no option. I did not have money to pay for a taxi. I was told by my case worker that I am not eligible for free ambulance because I have a bridging visa. The ambulance would charge $600, and I had only $20." He added, "I don’t feel good asking for charity. If I was allowed to work, I would. I have three skills: I'm a painter, a carpenter and a welder."

The government may deny permanent protection to asylum seekers, but people like Mohammad still hope for a different outcome. He gave an English name to his newborn son, telling me that the name "should not look different and be easy to pronounce, because my son was born here and could stay here".

The Australian government may want to fulfil an election promise, but they don’t realise this is hurting asylum seekers like Mohammad. To punish thousands of asylum seekers for political gain is morally wrong.