“Nothing is so permanent as a temporary government program.” Those words from “Tyranny of the Status Quo” by Milton and Rose Friedman were true before they were memorialized in 1984.
The capacity of government to forget why it does something has been around as long as governments have existed.
In “Politics,” Aristotle said, “Revolutions are brought about not by the obvious injustices, but by the neglect of the original purpose for which institutions were framed.”
That short-term measures tend to become resistant to repeal isn’t new. The Athenians turned temporary powers — like ostracism and the first documented property tax — into routine political tools. The Romans watched temporary dictatorships evolve into dynastic tyranny. The Israelites demanded a king for their security, only to trade freedom for bureaucracy. As Friedman observed — and Scripture foresaw — governments rarely let go of programs once implemented.
Our forefathers were aware of the calcification of temporary relief into permanent burdens. Article 1, Section 35 of the North Carolina Constitution provides the course correction to this classic case of unintended consequences in government: “A frequent recurrence to fundamental principles is absolutely necessary to preserve the blessings of liberty.” This language was installed in our state constitution in 1776 and has survived subsequent iterations.
The evolution of a short-term positive policy decision into a long-term negative is one problematic variation on this theme. Another more damaging form is the failed policy initiative that is too profitable to quit.
Humans are going to human, and capitalists are going to capitalize. I am both, so don’t confuse my point of fact with criticism.
When I worked in state government at a regulating agency, I never once met with a company or industry group asking for less government regulation. Ultimately, after companies navigate the labyrinth of regulations surrounding a particular issue, they see their difficult path as a barrier to entry for others. I don’t fault these companies for that attitude any more than I would fault my child for asking for a second dessert. But that does not mean “we the people” should allow failed programs, excessive red tape and government inefficiency to persist.
Recently, EPA Administrator Lee Zeldin announced his intention to fix the much-despised “stop-start” technology now ubiquitous in passenger vehicles. “Start/stop technology: where your car dies at every red light so companies get a climate participation trophy,” said Zeldin. “EPA approved it, and everyone hates it, so we’re fixing it.” The EPA gives automakers “off-cycle credits” for lowering CO2 emissions, but only if the start/stop system is default “on” at startup. The EPA did not require this technology; it was incentivized by EPA credits. An agency spokesperson recently told the New York Post the technology has not shown clear reductions in emissions tests.
While this change might seem trivial, it will have a ripple effect. Few would suggest car manufacturers would retain this technology at its current scale without the EPA credits or consumer demand. Ultimately, several groups will not support Zeldin’s change: companies that make the technology and government employees who administer the program — rational behavior by both groups toward self-preservation.
This is exactly the kind of course correction we should welcome. Not because we want more pollution or dislike businesses or people having jobs, but because we still believe it’s possible to prune back well-intended policies that no longer serve their purpose — or never did. Zeldin’s move should serve as a model: identify a deadweight program, remove the distorted incentive, and let the market respond accordingly. Allowing car owners to turn the system off and have the selection remain (similar to your radio staying on the last channel or your thermostat setting staying between engine starts) could be a simple fix.
We should also be asking similar questions about other government programs that have direct or indirect incentives. The House version of President Donald Trump’s Big Beautiful Bill takes aim at the runaway student loan system, which the Federal Reserve Bank of New York said in 2017 had driven tuition increases as much as 60 cents per dollar. There will be millions of people against change. Many derive their paycheck from a college or university. We could ask the same question about the expansion of scholarships for K-12 students. Will these programs ultimately drive tuition up at private schools? You can bet people who profit from private schools will not mind that.
This is what “a frequent recurrence to fundamental principles” looks like in practice. It’s not about nostalgia or ideology — it’s about returning to the reason we govern at all: to secure liberty, not entrench inefficiency, profits or positions.
The start/stop saga is symbolic of a broader truth. If we cannot summon the will to repeal a minor regulatory artifact few people want and fewer defend on the merits, what hope do we have of confronting the weightier failures with higher inertia?
We must summon the courage to say, “This isn’t working,” and move decisively to end the mistake.
Neal Robbins is publisher of North State Journal and lives in Asheboro.
