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Something unusual is happening in Hollywood. George Clooney just became French. Ellen DeGeneres moved to England's Cotswolds and isn't coming back. Richard Gere sold his Connecticut estate and relocated to Spain. Rosie O'Donnell moved to Ireland in January 2025 and is pursuing Irish citizenship through her grandparents. Jimmy Kimmel quietly secured Italian citizenship as a backup plan.
These aren't isolated decisions. They represent a growing pattern among America's entertainment elite, one that reveals uncomfortable truths about American culture, privacy laws, taxation, and what happens when fame becomes unbearable.
Nearly 5,000 Americans renounced their citizenship in 2024, according to IRS records published in the Federal Register. That represents a 48% increase from 2023 and marks the third-highest annual total on record. The only years with higher numbers were 2020, which saw 6,705 renunciations, and 2016, when 5,409 people gave up their American passports.
The timing isn't coincidental. The surge in third quarter 2024 alone accounted for 2,123 renunciations, the highest quarterly figure since late 2016. That quarter spanned July through September, the months leading up to the presidential election.
But here's what most people don't understand. Those 2024 numbers reflect decisions made 12 to 18 months earlier. The IRS publishes expatriation data with significant delays due to administrative processing. David Lesperance, founder of international tax firm Lesperance & Associates, explains that many decisions trail even longer when expatriates trigger legal extensions for filing their final U.S. returns.
This means the real wave is likely still building. Decisions made after Trump's November 2024 election victory won't appear in official statistics until 2026 at the earliest.
The celebrity exodus includes names that span generations and political perspectives. Eva Longoria now splits time between Spain and Mexico, though she clarified her move was primarily for work rather than politics. Josh Hartnett has lived in England's Hampshire countryside for years with his British wife, telling the Guardian he didn't want to be "swallowed up" by Hollywood.
Lily Collins and her husband relocated to Copenhagen in 2023 after honeymooning there. Antonio Banderas traded Los Angeles for Surrey, England. Tina Turner became a Swiss citizen in 2013, years before her death. Lindsay Lohan left for Dubai back in 2014, praising the privacy she found there.
The pattern extends beyond actors. Film director James Cameron moved to New Zealand. Robin Wright rents a home on the English coast with her partner. Gabriel Macht, who played Harvey Specter on Suits, confirmed his family settled somewhere in Europe in early 2025.
Some moves are explicitly political. Courtney Love, living in London since 2016, described Trump's presidency as "frightening" and confirmed she's pursuing British citizenship. America Ferrera reportedly moved to the UK with her family after Trump's 2024 victory, though she maintains she'll keep a U.S. presence for activism work.
Others cite different reasons entirely. Many simply want privacy, slower lifestyles, better schools for their children, or escape from America's celebrity-obsessed culture.
George Clooney's French citizenship application reveals something crucial that other countries figured out decades ago. France has robust privacy protections that make it illegal to photograph someone in a private place or publish pictures of celebrities in public spaces unless directly related to their public roles.
The deterrent system actually works. When paparazzi attempt to photograph celebrities during personal time, security teams photograph the photographers. Those images go to attorneys who inform media outlets that civil damages will be pursued if unauthorized photos appear. This practice, documented in legal journals, has largely stopped paparazzi from pursuing celebrities during private moments in France.
Compare that to America or the UK, where photographing public figures in public spaces remains largely permissible under free press protections. American law weighs press freedom more heavily than individual privacy in these scenarios, creating an environment where celebrity children grow up constantly aware they're being watched, photographed, and judged.
Clooney told Esquire in October 2025 he was worried about raising his twins in Los Angeles, in Hollywood's culture. He didn't want them walking around worried about paparazzi or being compared to other famous children. France, he said, largely doesn't care about fame.
That assessment isn't romanticized naivety. It reflects genuine legal and cultural differences. French privacy laws mean his eight-year-old twins can attend school, visit shops, or play outdoors without generating tabloid content. That simply isn't possible in California.
While celebrities cite privacy and politics, thousands of regular Americans abroad face a different crisis. The United States is one of only two countries in the world, alongside Eritrea, that taxes citizens on worldwide income regardless of where they live. This citizenship-based taxation system creates crushing burdens for Americans working overseas.
The Foreign Account Tax Compliance Act, enacted in 2010, requires all U.S. citizens to file annual tax returns declaring worldwide income and report all foreign bank accounts, investments, and pensions. Many foreign banks refuse to serve American clients because FATCA compliance is so complex and costly. Americans abroad often can't open basic checking accounts in their countries of residence.
Consider Fabien Lehagre's story. Born in the U.S. to an American mother and French father, he left America at 18 months old and never returned. He doesn't speak English. He's lived his entire life in France. Yet in 2014, his French bank informed him he might be a "potential tax evader" because he'd never filed U.S. tax returns. He didn't even know he had a Social Security number.
Lehagre founded the Association of Accidental Americans to lobby for residence-based taxation instead of citizenship-based taxation. He refuses to pay the $2,350 fee to renounce citizenship he never wanted in the first place.
Stories like his are common. According to research from Greenback Tax Services, 49% of U.S. expats plan to or are seriously considering renouncing citizenship. That represents a 63% jump from 30% in 2024. The primary driver? Politics for about 60% of respondents, with the remaining 40% citing financial reporting burdens.
Here's my take. This exodus, both celebrity and civilian, exposes fundamental disconnects in American policy and culture.
First, the privacy issue. That George Clooney needs to become French to give his children normal childhoods reflects poorly on American society. We've normalized stalking children because their parents are famous. We've decided that public curiosity and press freedom matter more than letting eight-year-olds attend school without photographers following them.
France found a balance. Germany has similar protections. Multiple European countries prioritized children's welfare over media access. America refuses to, hiding behind First Amendment absolutism while ignoring the psychological harm caused to kids who never asked for public attention.
Second, the tax situation borders on absurd. Taxing citizens who don't live in America, who don't use American services, who built entire lives elsewhere, serves no legitimate purpose beyond revenue extraction. It doesn't promote fairness. It doesn't fund services those citizens receive. It just punishes people for being born American or having American parents.
The system is particularly cruel to accidental Americans like Lehagre. Imagine discovering in your thirties that a country you've never lived in considers you a tax evader. Imagine facing thousands of dollars in fees just to formally disconnect from citizenship you never knew you had.
Third, the political dimension matters more than celebrities admit publicly. When 63% of expats say the 2024 election outcome reinforced their decision to stay abroad, that's not just partisan disappointment. It reflects genuine fear about America's direction, concerns about safety, worries about rights being rolled back, and frustration with political dysfunction.
Celebrities have resources to act on those concerns. Regular Americans don't. But the sentiment driving Ellen DeGeneres to England or Rosie O'Donnell to Ireland exists among millions who can't afford to leave. The celebrity moves simply make visible what many feel privately.
Critics will say these departures represent disloyalty or lack of patriotism. That's simplistic and misses the point entirely.
Most people renouncing citizenship aren't rejecting American identity. They're making pragmatic decisions in response to systems that don't serve them. Long-term expats who already hold other nationalities, who've built lives overseas, who've raised families abroad, face impossible choices between maintaining ties to a country that treats them as cash machines or cutting those ties completely.
For celebrities, the calculation involves different variables but similar pressure. Stay in America and watch your children grow up hounded by paparazzi, compared constantly to other famous kids, denied normal childhoods. Or leave for countries with saner privacy laws, better work-life balance, stronger social safety nets, and cultures that don't worship celebrity quite so intensely.
That's not lack of patriotism. That's rational parenting.
What's Coming Next
Several trends suggest this exodus will accelerate rather than slow.
First, administrative backlogs. U.S. embassies and consulates strictly limit renunciation appointments. Some locations report waiting times of several months or even years just to schedule an initial meeting. Immigration analysts estimate the global queue for renunciation now exceeds 30,000 people. If that backlog clears, official numbers will spike dramatically.
Second, political instability. Whether you support or oppose Trump's administration, nobody disputes that America feels politically volatile right now. Wealthy individuals and celebrities increasingly view second citizenships as insurance policies against uncertain futures. Lesperance notes many clients aren't necessarily leaving but establishing "backup plans" they can activate if conditions deteriorate further.
Third, awareness. More Americans now understand that second citizenship is achievable, not just for celebrities but for regular people. Citizenship by descent programs let people claim Irish, Italian, Polish, or other nationalities through grandparents. Citizenship by investment programs in Caribbean countries, Portugal, and Malta offer paths for wealthy applicants. As knowledge spreads, more people will pursue these options.
Fourth, proposed legislation could force mass renunciations. Senator Bernie Moreno introduced the Exclusive Citizenship Act of 2025 in December, which would require U.S. citizens to owe "sole and exclusive allegiance" to America. If passed, this could force millions of dual citizens to choose between nationalities.
Constitutional scholars note the bill likely violates the Fourteenth Amendment and precedents like Afroyim v. Rusk, which held citizens cannot be stripped of citizenship without consent. But even the proposal creates uncertainty that drives people to act preemptively.
The celebrity angle makes for interesting headlines. George Clooney becomes French, Ellen moves to England, whatever. But treating this as tabloid fodder misses the deeper significance.
When America's most successful, wealthy, and connected citizens decide living elsewhere offers better quality of life, that's a referendum on American exceptionalism. When thousands of regular Americans abroad choose to sever ties rather than navigate Byzantine tax compliance, that's a policy failure. When parents fear raising children in Hollywood culture so intensely they become citizens of other countries, that's a cultural problem.
America has always prided itself on being the place people dream of moving to, not fleeing from. The idea that America offers the best opportunities, the most freedom, the highest quality of life has underpinned national identity for generations.
That narrative is crumbling. Not for everyone, certainly. America still attracts enormous immigration, still generates incredible wealth, still dominates global culture. But for a growing segment, including successful Americans who could live anywhere, America increasingly looks like the wrong choice.
The celebrity exodus makes that visible. Josh Hartnett saying people in New York or Los Angeles only want to talk about careers, while nobody in Hampshire cares about his fame, illustrates cultural differences Americans rarely confront. Clooney describing his French farm as offering the best chance at normalcy reveals how abnormal American celebrity culture has become.
None of this is inevitable. Other countries figured out how to balance press freedom with privacy protections. Other developed nations use residence-based rather than citizenship-based taxation. Other societies created spaces where even famous people can live relatively normal lives.
America could pass privacy laws protecting celebrity children from paparazzi harassment. California has attempted this repeatedly. Bills keep failing, usually opposed by media organizations citing First Amendment concerns. But France proves it's possible to protect children without destroying press freedom. The choice is political will, not constitutional impossibility.
America could switch to residence-based taxation, ending the practice of pursuing citizens who live overseas. Organizations like Americans Abroad lobby for this constantly. The policy change would eliminate most renunciations driven by tax compliance burdens. It would also align America with virtually every other developed nation. But it would reduce federal revenue, making reform politically difficult even though the amount collected from expats is relatively small compared to overall tax receipts.
America could create more humane processes for people seeking to renounce citizenship, particularly accidental Americans who never chose citizenship in the first place. Eliminating the $2,350 fee, streamlining appointments, and creating special provisions for people with minimal U.S. ties would address many complaints.
These changes won't happen quickly if at all. The political will doesn't exist. Media companies fight privacy protections. The IRS wants every dollar it can extract from citizens abroad. Bureaucracy resists streamlining.
So the exodus continues. More celebrities will quietly secure second citizenships. More regular Americans abroad will reluctantly renounce. More wealthy families will establish backup plans in countries with saner laws and calmer politics.
This story isn't really about celebrities. It's about what American citizenship means in 2025, what it costs, what it provides, and whether those trade-offs still make sense.
For George Clooney, French citizenship offers privacy laws that let his children be children. For Fabien Lehagre, renouncing American citizenship he never wanted would cost thousands of dollars he refuses to pay on principle. For the nearly 5,000 people who gave up U.S. passports in 2024, the calculation varied but reached the same conclusion: American citizenship had become more burden than benefit.
That should concern everyone, regardless of political affiliation. When successful Americans choose to leave, when regular Americans abroad feel forced to renounce, when families decide other countries offer better lives, America has lost something essential.
The celebrity moves just make it visible. They're symptoms, not causes. The real story is what drove them there. Until America addresses those underlying issues, privacy laws that prioritize sensationalism over children's welfare, tax policies that punish citizens for living overseas, political dysfunction that makes people fear their country's future, the exodus will continue.
And we'll keep writing articles about which celebrities moved where, treating it as gossip rather than recognizing it for what it really is: a warning sign about American decline that we're too distracted to heed.
Related Reads: France Just Proved America Values Entertainment Over Children's Wellbeing