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Washington never misses a chance to promise “fairness” while tightening its grip on the financial system. For more than a decade, regulators and central bankers have stretched their authority far beyond the original intent of the law, distorting markets, punishing savers, and concentrating economic power in the hands of bureaucrats. 

The latest example is the Consumer Financial Protection Bureau’s Section 1033 rule, which marks a new front in Washington’s quiet campaign to nationalize financial data under the guise of “consumer empowerment.”

Section 1033 was intended to help consumers access their financial information. In practice, the Biden-era CFPB twisted it into a sweeping mandate that forces banks, credit unions, and fintech companies to share customer data with third parties, regardless of cost, security, or consent. Regulators call this “data portability.” But it’s really data coercion, forced transfer of private information directed by the government. 

By compelling institutions to open their systems to outside actors, the CFPB is creating massive cybersecurity risks and legal uncertainty. Once that data leaves a secure bank environment, who’s responsible if it’s hacked or sold? The agency doesn’t say, because it doesn’t have to. It operates as a mostly unaccountable branch of government funded by the Federal Reserve.

This new rule fits a pattern that stretches across administrations of both parties. 

The Federal Reserve has spent years manipulating the economy through its own version of central planning. Its balance sheet exploded from about $4 trillion before the COVID lockdowns to nearly $9 trillion at the peak, and even after years of “tightening,” it still sits around $6.6 trillion, roughly 20 percent of US GDP. That extraordinary expansion, coupled with record federal deficits, monetized Washington’s overspending and triggered the inflation surge Americans are still feeling today. 

The Fed’s interventions distorted credit markets, inflated asset prices, and fueled the illusion that easy money could substitute for productivity. The result has been slower growth, declining real wages, and a public that no longer trusts the dollar — or the institutions that manage it.

At the same time, agencies such as the Federal Deposit Insurance Corporation have extended open-ended guarantees to ever-larger deposits up to $250,000, signaling to financial institutions that risk doesn’t really matter because taxpayers will always clean up the mess. The more Washington insulates these institutions from market discipline, the more reckless behavior it encourages. That’s not consumer protection; that’s moral hazard on a national scale.

The CFPB’s Section 1033 rule compounds that problem by politicizing access to financial data. It hands Washington the ability to dictate not only how money moves but also how information about money moves. 

Once regulators can decide which companies may access data and on what terms, they effectively control the competitive landscape of American finance. This is industrial policy in digital disguise. And it’s already spilling into state politics, where legislators are introducing new caps on credit card interest rates, limits on interchange fees, and other well-intentioned but destructive interventions. Each of these measures increases costs for consumers, reduces credit access for the poor, and consolidates power among the largest incumbents who can afford the compliance burden. If this sounds like central planning, that’s because it is. 

A handful of bureaucrats now wield more influence over the financial system than the millions of Americans who depend on it. The Fed’s technocrats decide the cost of money. The CFPB dictates how data may flow. The FDIC guarantees risks that private firms should bear. And Congress keeps spending as if none of it matters, driving the national debt above $37 trillion and pushing annual interest payments past $1.1 trillion — a sum larger than the defense budget. These are not isolated mistakes. They are symptoms of a government that has grown far beyond its competence.

The path forward begins with humility and a return to first principles. The Fed should stop acting as an unelected economic czar and start shrinking its balance sheet toward historical norms, or possibly back to six percent of GDP, where it was before the Great Financial Crisis. Congress should reassert its oversight role and restore a rules-based monetary framework that ties money growth to economic fundamentals, not political convenience. The CFPB should be dismantled or at least stripped of its unilateral authority, with legitimate fraud enforcement consolidated under accountable agencies. Most importantly, Washington must end its obsession with managing markets and start trusting them again.

America’s prosperity was built on sound money, competition, and personal responsibility — not on bureaucratic control. If we want a financial system that works for everyone, we must end the centralization of both money and data. Section 1033 isn’t just another bad rule; it’s a warning sign of how far we’ve drifted from a truly free economy. The stakes are simple: either Americans control their financial future, or Washington does. It’s time to choose the former.

On Sunday, October 26, Argentine President Javier Milei’s party, La Libertad Avanza, won big in the country’s legislative elections. In the lower house, the Chamber of Deputies, it won 50.4 percent of the available seats on a plurality — 40.7 percent — of the vote. In the upper house, the Senate, it won thirteen of 27 available seats for a net gain of six.    

Many doubted such an outcome a month ago when, according to Polymarket, the party’s odds of winning most seats fell to a low of 52.5 percent, down from 89.5 percent on August 19. Argentina was, then, in the grip of one of its perennial economic crises, with the peso falling and bond yields rising. The fate of Milei’s bid to right the country’s economy by balancing the budget with deep spending cuts — which, as Noah Smith noted in July, had eliminated the budget deficit and brought inflation down from a monthly rate of 25 percent to 2.4 percent — hung in the balance.  

The proximate cause of Argentina’s latest economic crisis occurred on September 7, when, with Milei’s sister embroiled in a corruption scandal, Alianza La Libertad Avanza suffered a heavy electoral defeat at the hands of the center-left Fuerza Patria. “Markets panicked,” The Economist reported, “worried that this signaled the end of popular support for his reforms, and the potential return of spendthrift Peronists. A sharp peso sell-off began, while investors ditched Argentine bonds.” 

While Argentina is not alone in feeling the fiscal pain of rising bond yields, few countries nowadays worry very much about their exchange rates. But Argentina is different.   

The Necessity and Peril of Foreign Currency Borrowing  

The ultimate cause of Argentina’s crisis is its long history of fiscal and monetary mismanagement. It has defaulted on its international sovereign debt nine times, three of those in the past two decades, and suffered repeated bouts of high inflation. As a result, nobody will lend pesos to its government at a remotely affordable interest rate because they either might not get repaid at all (a hard default) or be repaid in currency which is worth much less than when they loaned it (a soft default).   

So, to borrow the pesos it needs to finance its operations, the Argentine government first borrows dollars which it then exchanges for those pesos. But a government which borrows dollars must be able to repay dollars. So how does a government which borrows in a currency it doesn’t issue — which isn’t a “monetary sovereign” — get that currency? It has two sources. 

Taxation is the first. The Argentine government could impose taxes on its population payable in dollars, but that merely transfers the problem of getting those dollars in the first place from the government to the taxpayers. To do so, those taxpayers would need to sell more to the United States (or anyone else who is willing to transact with them in dollars) than they buy from it. In short, Argentina would have to run a current-account surplus, something it has done only rarely in recent years.   

Borrowing is the second. Here, however, the Argentine government is effectively buying dollars with pesos, and this is why the exchange rate — the peso price of dollars — matters. In April, 1,000 pesos bought you 93 cents; on September 21, it bought you just 68 cents. Milei’s government needed more pesos to buy the same amount of dollars, and this, as The Economist noted, raised the familiar specter of money printing and inflation, with the consequent flight from pesos and peso denominated debt, like Argentine government bonds, and the resulting fall in the currency and rise in bond yields.  

The Folly of Fixed Exchange Rates  

To protect themselves from such a situation, the Argentine government has tried to fix the exchange rate, but there are limits to this.   

If the peso rises against the dollar, the Argentine central bank, as the issuer of pesos, can print them in unlimited quantity, using them to buy dollars, pushing the relative price of pesos down and the relative price of dollars up.  

It is a very different situation when the peso is falling against the dollar. Then, the Argentine central bank must push the price of the dollar down relative to pesos by selling dollars for pesos, pushing the relative price of those pesos up. But the Argentine central bank only has access to a certain number of dollars so there are limits to how far it can pursue this policy. This is the great asymmetry at the heart of currency pegs like Argentina’s; as the British discovered in 1992, it is easy to weaken a relatively strong currency, but not to strengthen a relatively weak one.   

In the run-up to the election, Argentina blew through its dollar reserves attempting to defend the peso’s peg. When it ran out of ammo, President Trump stepped in. However helpful, depending on the president is not a macroeconomic strategy for the long term.  

The Prospects for Argentina    

Milei aims to get Argentina’s borrowing under control so that it is less vulnerable to swings in the exchange rate. The country’s electorate gave him a vote of confidence this Sunday. Unlike voters in other countries, they might have felt a level of economic pain which has led them to acknowledge the need for Milei’s medicine.   

With this mandate, work remains to be done. “The main problem is that Argentina has a large welfare state given the size and level of development of its economy, and a highly distorted tax and transfer system that funds it,” political economist Jean-Paul Faguet told Newsweek in September. “It only manages to remain stable during good times; a bad international economy or specific international shocks throw it out of kilter and into crisis.” Sunday’s election was a positive shock, with the peso and bond prices rising and yields falling on the news. But as long as Argentina’s structural problems persist, the economy – and the country – will remain vulnerable. Its welfare state must, like that in France, for example, be brought into proportion with the economy’s ability to support it and that will mean further cuts. With Milei up for reelection in 2027, much work remains for him to do.     

New York City is celebrating the win of its most defining election in years. On November 4, voters selected their new mayor.

Zohran Mamdani, a self-described democratic socialist, surged in popularity — especially among Gen Z — on promises to freeze rent, open government-run grocery stores, eliminate bus fares, and raise the minimum wage to $30 an hour. His victory on Tuesday marks a major political shift in one of the world’s most influential cities — and it could be an ominous sign of where America is headed.

Media coverage right now is focused on whether Mamdani’s policies will actually make life in New York more affordable — and while that’s an important question, it’s not the only one we should be asking. Some — including President Trump — have labeled Mamdani a communist. Mamdani rejects the charge, insisting he’s a democratic socialist and that the two couldn’t be more different. But that raises an even more important question that few people are asking: how different is Mamdani’s “democratic socialism” from the Marxist socialism it claims to distance itself from? 

Marx’s Vs Mamdani’s Framework

In The Communist Manifesto, Karl Marx built his entire system around class conflict. He saw history as a constant struggle between the bourgeoisie — the wealthy owners of factories, land, and capital — and the proletariat, the working class who labored for them. To Marx, the capitalist was the villain: the exploiter of workers and the thief of their labor. His solution was total upheaval: abolish private property, erase class divisions, and replace capitalism with collective ownership managed by the state.

The proletariat will use its political supremacy to wrest, by degrees, all capital from the bourgeoisie, to centralize all instruments of production in the hands of the State, i.e., of the proletariat organized as the ruling class; and to increase the total of productive forces as rapidly as possible.

In other words, Marx believed the working class should use the power of the state to seize control of all production, centralizing it “in the hands of the state” — which he described as the proletariat organized as the ruling class. In theory, this meant the economy would be run “for the people.” In reality, it means the state would run everything — because the state was the people, at least in name.

Cultures that have adopted Marxist principles promise fairness, but in practice, concentrate nearly all power in the hands of government. What begins as a call to liberate workers from oppression ends with individuals stripped of both property and choice.

Mamdani’s version of socialism sounds less radical, but it flows from the same logic. He’s not calling for a violent revolution, nor the complete abolition of private ownership. Instead, he frames the “villain” differently — the greedy billionaire, the corporate landlord, the capitalist system that supposedly makes New York unaffordable. His plan is to make life “fairer” for working-class New Yorkers through rent freezes, government-run grocery stores, and higher minimum wages. But each solution leans on the same idea Marx started with: using government power to fix inequality. None of his proposals limit government power or expand individual liberty — they expand the state’s power in the name of helping the people. It may sound democratic, but the foundation is the same: more control from the top, less freedom for the individual.

What’s the Difference Between Democratic Socialism and Marx’s Socialism?

In his NBC interview, Mamdani was asked point-blank if he’s a communist. His response: “No, I am not…I call myself a democratic socialist.” Today, democratic socialists claim their version is different. The word “democratic” makes it sound safer — like it’s no longer about force, just about fairness. The idea is that instead of taking power through revolution, socialism can be voted in peacefully. But voting for socialism doesn’t make it any less socialist, nor does it promise government power will be used for good. Calling it “democratic” doesn’t change the system — it just changes how it’s introduced. The end goal is still the same: to let government, not individuals, decide what’s “fair,” and force everyone else to conform.

That same mindset carries into how Marxists and their colleagues view wealth. Democratic socialists begin with the belief that inequality itself is injustice — that the success of some must come at the expense of others. It starts with envy and entitlement disguised as fairness: the idea that those who have more should be forced to “give back” to those who have less. Beneath it lies a quiet moral assumption rooted in Marxist thought — the notion that some know better than others how much people should earn, how their money should be spent, and that government should step in to correct that “injustice.” It echoes Marx’s famous line, “From each according to his ability, to each according to his needs.” In theory, it sounds compassionate. In practice, it hands the power of deciding both ability and need to the state.

None of it is voluntary; it relies on the power of government to enforce a vision of equality that punishes success instead of encouraging opportunity. So they push for higher taxes, arguing that the state should decide who has “too much” and redistribute it. But once that line is drawn, it never stops moving. Today it’s billionaires. Tomorrow it’s millionaires. Eventually, it’s the middle class. Because government doesn’t create wealth — it can only take, until there’s nothing left to take.

Then there’s the question of government control over the means of production. Democratic socialists insist they’re different from communists because they’re not asking for the government to run everything — just the “important stuff.” Housing, healthcare, public transit… and whatever else they decide to add to that list next. But it’s fine, they argue, because these necessities shouldn’t be managed by greedy corporations in search of profit.

That’s exactly how socialism starts — small, targeted, and “reasonable.” Every socialist system begins with the promise of managing only a few “key” industries that are “too important” for the free market. That’s how it started in Venezuela. The government first nationalized the oil and steel industries, claiming state control was necessary to stabilize prices and protect workers. But over time, that “limited” control spread — first into agriculture, then banking, electricity, tourism, and transportation — until nearly every sector of the economy was under state management. What began as “helping” key industries became total control of production, and with it, the collapse of an entire nation.

Once government controls one industry, there’s nothing stopping it from reaching for another.

So while Mamdani’s version of socialism may sound softer than Marx’s, it grows from the same root. Both rest on the belief that government — not individuals or markets — should manage economic life in the name of fairness. One makes demands by force; the other asks for it by vote, but both seek unchecked control.

Mamdani’s Is Right About the Problem, Wrong About the Solution

Mamdani is right about the problem — New York has become unaffordable. But it’s not the “unfair capitalist system” that made the city expensive to live in; it’s decades of government interference that have limited supply, inflated costs, and buried productivity under layers of bureaucracy. The same policies fueled New York’s housing crisis and soaring cost of living. And now, Mamdani’s solution is to expand the very system that created the problem —  inviting even deeper government control into the very systems that caused this crisis in the first place.

Democratic Socialism vs Marx’s Communism: The Same Plant, Different Stages 

So what really separates democratic socialism from Marx’s communism? In short, it’s the same plant — just at different stages of growth. I created this diagram to help envision it: democratic socialism is the seed, socialism is the growing plant, and communism is the full-grown tree, where the state controls every part of economic life and, eventually, people’s choices.

When Mamdani says he’s not a communist, he may genuinely believe that. But the ideology he’s promoting comes from the same soil Marx planted in 175 years ago — the belief that government control can ‘fix’ what free people built. What Mamdani calls “democratic socialism” isn’t a rejection of what Marx built; it’s this generation’s version of it. It’s communism with training wheels — rebranded for today’s youth.

Politicians like Mamdani get away with selling socialism because they’re not trying to overthrow capitalism overnight — they say they’re trying to reform it. They replace free exchange with state intervention one policy at a time, until the line between “helping” and “owning” disappears. Mamdani might not be Marx reborn, but his ideas come from the same place — and if history has taught us anything, it’s that the outcome doesn’t change just because the packaging looks friendlier. And the outcome always has a body count.

So as New Yorkers celebrate Mamdani’s win, I hope they — and the rest of America — pay attention. Because what happens here won’t just shape one city’s future. It will reveal how much longer we’re willing to flirt with the same ideology that has destroyed freedom everywhere it’s been tried.

As I write this, a mother somewhere in Detroit just swiped her EBT card at a grocery store, trying to buy food for her children. She was denied, forcing her to leave the food at the cashier as her kids looked on, hungry and wondering why they’re not able to carry the food out of the store tonight. She and 42 million other Americans are facing this dilemma because Congress hasn’t passed a budget. While politicians point fingers at one another, families are starting to wonder how they’ll put food on the table. Despite all the doomsayers, something amazing is happening that offers lessons for countries around the world: people are solving the problem without the federal government.

Several states announced that they would dip into their budgets to partially fund food assistance programs. But more tellingly are the local and private responses to this. H-E-B, a Texas-based grocery store, pledged $5 million to Texas food banks and $1 million for Meals on Wheels. DoorDash announced that it would deliver one million free meals and that they were going to waive delivery and service fees for 300,000 grocery orders. Communities, churches, and local charities, not to mention small businesses across the country are collecting increased donations and filling the gap left behind by Congress. All of this without federal authorization, oversight, or influence.

This isn’t the first time people in local communities have stepped up in this way. In 2023, when Congress ended pandemic-era SNAP allotments, several pundits cried disaster. Food banks across the nation reported “increased demand” in the months following the cuts. And while there were some initial challenges, the American people once again rose to the occasion. Private charities donated some 5.3 billion meals that year, in exactly the same way that Americans are doing right now. The Archdiocese of St. Louis mobilized over 100 parishes within 48 hours. No hearings required.

This raises an interesting question: if communities and people can do something, why are we charging the federal government with doing it, and what net effect has the federal government’s involvement had?

Whenever governments get involved in distributing benefits, it creates concentrated benefits for some and dispersed costs for taxpayers. With food assistance programs, there are two groups of beneficiaries. The most obvious beneficiary is the people who receive food assistance. But the less obvious beneficiary is none other than the well-connected members of the food industry. 

As it turns out, there is a tremendous scope for cronyism in determining eligibility, benefit amounts, and purchase restrictions. Using the US’s food assistance program as our example, consider the fact that you can buy cold chicken, but not hot, ready-to-eat chicken. Kellogg’s Corn Flakes? Those are fine. Store-brand corn flakes made with the same ingredients? Maybe not. Nutrition science doesn’t explain this. Lobbying does. 

As another example, WIC, a federal program designed to further assist Women, Infants, and Children, leaves it to states to determine which products are eligible. Michigan lists 9,890 items, down to brand and package sizes. You can buy two-percent milk, but only if it’s from certain brands and only one quart at a time. Want a gallon of milk instead to save yourself (and the taxpayer) money? Sorry, Lansing bureaucrats know better. 

Imagine the lobbying effort that went into securing a product’s placement on this list and similar lists in the other 49 states. Then realize that there are multiple levels of bureaucracy that must be navigated before a tax dollar reaches the recipients of these programs, all of which are staffed by people who do not work for free. The efficiency gains alone of cutting out the government are simply staggering.

According to some estimates, food pantries provide one meal for every nine that SNAP and other food assistance programs provide. But when these programs fail, those pantries, thanks to community involvement, almost instantly scale up, despite cries from the commentariat that “philanthropy can’t fill the gap.” Critics will argue that charity cannot replace the $8 billion per month the US spends on SNAP alone. They’re right about the scale but wrong about the implications.

The irony here is that the same government, which claims the sole ability to prevent hunger, criminalizes feeding the homeless without permits in over 70 cities and requires food banks to navigate FDA regulations designed more for commercial enterprises. Philanthropy plus federalism plus free markets equals results. Not perfect results, of course, but far more effective results done much more efficiently than Washington’s one-size-fits-none approach. This is because people know and understand their neighbors’ actual needs, not just their demographic categories.

The question isn’t whether we can feed hungry families without federal oversight. We’re doing it right now, and history shows this isn’t an isolated incident. The question is why we pretend that only Washington can solve problems that communities solved long before the Department of Agriculture existed.

American capital markets — stock exchanges, bond markets, over-the-counter markets for securities and derivatives of all types — are often praised as paragons of free-market dynamism. But beneath that reputation lies a market structure shaped less by entrepreneurial forces than by layers of regulatory design. While market structure may seem like an abstract or technical topic, it directly affects the prices we all pay and receive — for gas at the pump, groceries at the store, or the stocks and bonds in our 401(k)s — because it determines how trades in capital goods are executed and how prices are discovered. The National Market System (NMS) that ties together various stock exchanges and electronic trading venues is not a spontaneous product of competitive, entrepreneurial forces, but rather — and quite ironically — an elaborate bureaucratic construct born of sustained government intervention.

Nowhere is this irony more visible than in Regulation NMS (Reg NMS), adopted by the Securities and Exchange Commission (SEC) in 2005. At the time, the SEC claimed it was modernizing fragmented exchanges into a coherent, investor-friendly system. At the heart of Reg NMS lies Rule 611, the Order Protection Rule, which prohibits trade-throughs — i.e., executing orders at worse prices than those displayed elsewhere. This rule, intended to guarantee the “best price,” also had countless unintended consequences: it spawned an explosion of trading venues, fragmented liquidity, and a hyper-focus on speed and order type engineering.

At the time, two SEC commissioners (Paul Atkins and Cynthia Glassman) dissented from the final rule. Their warning was clear: rather than promoting competition, Reg NMS would ossify it — enshrining one model of execution, suppressing innovation, and ultimately reducing market choice. “Far from enhancing competition,” they wrote, “Regulation NMS will have anticompetitive effects.” 

Two decades later, with the SEC now revisiting the rule amid mounting criticism of complexity and gaming, their dissent looks increasingly prescient.

The background to Reg NMS’s adoption is equally revealing. In 2005, fears of a “duopoly” gripped the industry as the New York Stock Exchange merged with the Arca ECN and Nasdaq acquired Instinet. In both cases, two central stock markets bought electronic trading venues that deeply entrenched them in US securities trading. Smaller players like the Philadelphia Stock Exchange (PHLX) scrambled to remain relevant, striking deals with Citadel and Merrill Lynch to form a so-called “tripoly.” This turf war among exchanges wasn’t a natural market realignment — it was driven by the regulatory architecture. If the best quote must be accessed and honored by law, why maintain multiple venues displaying it? The answer became clear: only those who could afford the technological and legal arms race would survive.

Over the following years, dozens of new exchanges and dark pools emerged — not because of entrepreneurial freedom, but because Reg NMS made it profitable to exploit its mechanics. Algorithmic firms like Tradebot launched BATS to capitalize on the guaranteed protection of displayed quotes. Matching engines were designed to game the rules rather than serve human investors and traders. The market became increasingly fragmented: as of 2023, trades in US equities were routed through at least 16 exchanges and over 30 dark pools, with orders often pinging across venues in microseconds to comply with regulatory obligations rather than optimize execution quality.

This complexity wasn’t accidental — it was built. As former SEC Commissioner Daniel Gallagher has noted, today’s market structure is “the product of extraordinary regulatory change,” not spontaneous order. The SEC effectively codified not only how trades must be priced and routed, but also how exchanges must behave, who can compete, and which kinds of data must be purchased. The bastion of capitalism is a product of collectivist planning.

The SEC argues that Reg NMS lowered trading costs and democratized access. That’s partly true. But it did so by standardizing a particular model of trading and empowering firms that could comply with, or arbitrage, the rules. The losers weren’t just inefficient brokers or legacy exchanges — they were also individuals and firms who now face hidden complexity, reduced transparency, and rising market data costs.

As the SEC revisits Rule 611 in its September 2025 roundtable, the real question isn’t about passing judgment on Regulation NMS — it’s about deciding the future path of our markets. Do we allow competitive forces to reshape market structure and move away from the innovation-stifling, one-size-fits-all regime that now governs price formation? Or do we continue to bear the hidden but very real costs of central planning in the most critical arenas of American economic life? Regulation NMS continues to earn praise from the same regulatory bodies that imposed it, but its legacy is a market architecture engineered in Washington, not discovered through market processes.

In an interview last month, Citadel founder and CEO Ken Griffin revealed how excited he is about the charter school options in Miami, citing them as a reason he’s so excited his company now calls the city home. 

The finance giant, based in Chicago for years, officially moved its headquarters to Miami in 2022. Its employee migration out of Chicago is ongoing, but as of 2025, most of its employees have made the exodus to South Florida.

One of the reasons Griffin cited for the move was the low quality of life in Chicago for his family and his employees — including Illinois’ struggling schools. As he explained in the interview: “There are some 50 schools in the state of Illinois where not a single child is at grade level.” And those districts are just the very worst of the bad performers.

Of course, there are myriad reasons why Florida is appealing to Ken Griffin as a headquarters for Citadel. Florida’s lack of a state income tax makes it a financially strategic decision. Miami’s crime rate is a small fraction of Chicago’s, making it a safer place for his employees to raise families: “There are more murders in Chicago on a bad weekend than there are in Miami in a year.”

But the education quality available to Citadel employees — and available to the surrounding community, which is a leading indicator on the quality of said community in years to come — is important enough to Griffin to be worth mentioning.

This is just another example of the second- and third-order effects of bad education policy. It’s basic cause and effect: if a school district delivers a poor quality education, residents with means will move to a better district. If schools in an entire region deliver a poor quality education, families, and indeed companies, will start moving out of the area altogether.

We’ve known for years that people move locally for schools. There’s a reason Zillow listings tout good school districts as a core part of their marketing. More recently, it has become clear that people take education policy into consideration when moving across longer distances too. 

Jenny Clark, founder of Love Your School and proponent of Arizona’s school choice movement, says she regularly talks to parents who relocate to her state for its school choice options. Arizona’s school choice vouchers are particularly appealing to parents with special needs children (like Clark, who first used Arizona’s ESA vouchers to support her dyslexic son’s reading education). In many places, it’s hard to get support for students who don’t perfectly fit the conventional classroom mold; ESA vouchers allow parents to take matters into their own hands and find the very best resources without their local district as a gatekeeper.

Arizona was the first state to pass universal school choice (in 2022), so it’s had longer to accumulate data and monitor policy effects on its migration and economy. Other states have since followed suit, and while it’s too early to have clear data, the early indicators are clear: parents are paying attention, and they’re factoring school choice options as they decide where they want to live.

As Griffin revealed, corporations are paying attention, too.

In the interview, Griffin — who recently offloaded his downtown Chicago penthouses for a 44-percent loss as he cut ties with the city – voiced his excitement over what’s happening in Florida’s education market.

I was with the governor of the state of Florida a couple weeks ago, we welcomed the Success Academies to South Florida. They’re going to open several schools in the Miami area. There are hundreds of thousands of kids in the state of Florida who are in charter schools.

That number is likely to rise quickly once Success Academy opens its doors.

Success Academy is one of the shining lights of recent education innovation. A charter school network originally based out of Brooklyn (but quickly expanding into the rest of New York City, and now to new states), Success Academy was founded in 2006 by Eva Moskowitz, a former teacher and New York City Council member who was deeply troubled by the state of New York’s public schools.

Her first location, the Harlem Success Academy, quickly eliminated the achievement gap on standardized tests between its low-income students and those in the city’s top-performing public schools, attracting national attention. That performance trend has held even as the charter network has expanded to its current 57 locations.

Success Academy focuses on holding students to high standards, surrounding them in a culture of excellence, maintaining firm discipline, and delivering a strong academic curriculum. It has offered a world-class education to thousands of kids who would’ve otherwise been stuck in failing public classrooms. And now, its program is expanding to Miami.

This Success Academy announcement is just the latest in a long string of education moves happening in Florida. The state passed universal school choice in March of 2023, and since then, the state has seen an explosion of innovation. As one of the states with the least bureaucratic red tape for new schools, it has become a hotbed for innovation and entrepreneurship.

The state has seen myriad microschools and independent programs launch. It’s also become an incubator for networks working to expand on a national scale.

Primer, a network of K-8 microschools headquartered in San Francisco, based its early schools in South Florida because the state was so friendly to startup programs. Similar to Success Academy, Primer’s goal is to reach underprivileged kids who otherwise wouldn’t have high-quality options. Primer opens schools in areas it calls “school deserts” and brings choice into communities that only have a low-performing public school and no other private options.

Primer is quickly expanding, opening locations in other school choice states like Arizona, Alabama, and Texas. But for the time being, Florida remains its center of gravity, because Florida has been such a favorable state to work with.

Griffin voiced his excitement about the school choice culture in Florida.

Eva Moskowitz was blown away by one thing – everybody, everybody extended her the warmest of welcomes. We want her in Miami. We want our children to have the future that Success Academy will prepare them for…I mean, these will be kids that will go on from every socioeconomic background to have great careers and great lives because they had a great K-12 education.

This enthusiasm — from families, entrepreneurs, and perhaps most surprisingly corporations — is something politicians and lawmakers should be paying attention to. People are demonstrating that they’re willing to immigrate to good educational regions and emigrate from bad ones. Companies are considering education culture when choosing cities in which to open offices.

Parents want the best for their kids. Corporations want to move to strategic locations to attract top talent. And even with all the politics and bureaucracy as we have, states are, in a sense, competing in a market to attract residents and businesses, especially wealthy ones. 

School choice policy will always be most exciting because of the possibilities it opens up for children. Nothing will ever compare to the shifts in life trajectory made possible by access to better schools, for kids who wouldn’t have had choice otherwise. But school choice policy is also an important thing to watch as an indicator of what states may be on the up and up, and which ones may be on the decline if they don’t stay competitive.

Daniel Flynn’s recent biography, The Man Who Invented Conservatism: The Unlikely Life of Frank S. Meyer, sheds an interesting light on the origins of American conservatism. It also provides an account of the unlikely life of a communist organizer turned architect of a conservative political movement. 

Flynn found boxes of hitherto unknown correspondence and files that highlight particularly colorful and revealing conversations and relationships within the nascent conservative movement of the 1950s and 1960s. Although “conservative” might be a bit of a misnomer. 

Meyer famously wrote In Defense of Freedom: A Conservative Credo and single-handedly developed and pushed the idea of “Fusionism” between conservative and libertarian thought. He thought that the “sharp antithesis between reason [libertarians] and tradition [traditionalists] distorts the true harmony that exists between them and blocks the development of conservative thought.”

Hayek wrote along similar lines in “Why I Am Not A Conservative.” Traditionalists protested that they were being caricatured. Russell Kirk described (classical) liberal principles in his handbook on conservatism: “[j]ustice means that every man and every woman have a right to what is their own” and “So far as possible, political power ought to be kept in the hands of private persons and local institutions.” Kirk’s first principle of conservatism basically describes natural law: “Men and nations are governed by moral laws; and those laws have their origin in a wisdom that is more than human—in divine justice.”

Much of his contribution to the conservative movement stems from his longtime position as a senior editor at National Review. He also helped found the American Conservative Union and its subsequent Conservative Political Action Committee, and later the Philadelphia Society with Friedman, Buckley, Feulner, and Evans.

Meyer’s conservatism, much like Whittaker Chambers’, was forged in the crucible of the Communist Party. While Meyer never acted as a spy for the communists as Chambers did, he was one of their more influential boosters in 1930s England and in the US. He was in deep enough to be called to testify in several trials and hearings of communists in the 1950s.

Frank, along with his wife Elsie, lived an eclectic life in Woodstock, New York. The family (including their children at all ages) never went to bed before midnight. Friends and guests of all stripes would talk into the wee hours of the morning. Meyer famously spent exorbitant sums on his phone bill — in some years as much as a fifth of his reported income — and was notorious for calling people at two or three in the morning to discuss his latest idea.

Meyer and National Review, like Russell Kirk, were much taken with Barry Goldwater and his 1964 presidential campaign. But unlike Kirk, who retreated from political activism in light of Johnson trouncing Goldwater in the election, Meyer doubled and tripled down on building a successful conservative political movement. Thus. the ACU and later CPAC were born.

While Flynn presents Meyer as “the man who invented conservatism,” the biography provides scant detail around how and why Meyer’s thinking developed. One of the key events, however, was his reading of Friedrich Hayek’s The Road to Serfdom, which he briefly tried to reconcile with communism. Another key thread was Meyer’s patriotism. While still a booster of the Communist Party in America, Meyer worked to reconcile communism with the founding ideals of the country. The attempt failed spectacularly. Meyer then shifted to a more libertarian and individualist stance, yet still desired to marry his political philosophy with the American tradition.

That attempt, as well as rubbing shoulders with other conservatives at National Review and the Philadelphia Society, moderated his libertarian impulses and elevated the conservative ideals of tradition and custom in his thinking. Meyer’s larger-than-life personality led him to feud with anyone and everyone: Russell Kirk, Harry Jaffa, James Burnham, and even Bill Buckley. Yet the impression one gets from reading his writing and correspondence was that these disputes were driven almost entirely by his ideas rather than by grievances or personal animosity.

Meyer’s contribution also came indirectly. In his role at National Review, he largely commissioned reviews of books and art. His desire for quality, rather than for ideological purity, in his contributors is surprising and apparently made his section of the magazine particularly good. He was a man with strong political beliefs who also cared deeply about culture, art, and excellence.

There can be no doubt that Meyer was an important figure in American conservatism. While his primary contribution seems to be institution building (NR, ACU, CPAC, etc.), he was no doubt an important interlocutor for other conservatives. And the Fusionist project, though falling on hard times recently, has been an important constitutive element of modern American conservatism. 

Meyer’s book on freedom also remains relevant to the modern conservative thinker. He advocated a free market perspective at home and in international development: 

Nor can active benevolence, charity, be an aim of foreign policy, since charity is the privilege and responsibility of individual persons, not of the custodians of money taken from people by taxation; and, in the specific case relevant today — backward nations — the only way seriously to advance their economies, in any case, is through investment under the controls of the market system.

Flynn perhaps exaggerates Meyer’s intellectual contribution to conservatism. Russell Kirk, Leo Strauss, Friedrich Hayek, Milton Friedman, and their many disciples populate conservatism today. These men are still read carefully and broadly by conservatives. Meyer, much less so.

Yet his life has some extraordinary qualities to it, beyond his idiosyncratic eccentricities. . His influence on others was substantial but hard to quantify. So, too, his impact forming long-lasting conservative organizations. Flynn’s book reminds us that hard work, intellectual passion, and a bit of eccentricity can go a long way toward advancing the cause of freedom.

According to reports released this past summer, 80 percent of the Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs) are off track for the UN’s 2030 target, and progress on more than half of the goals has been “weak and insufficient.” About 30 percent of the SDG initiatives have either been abandoned or “gone into reverse.” 

Development debates are on the rise, thanks in part to the recent release of Ezra Klein and Derek Thompson’s book, Abundance (2025), along with Marian Tupy and Gale Pooley’s previous publication, Superabundance (2022). Both these books emphasize advancement, but distinguish the role of government and how factors for progress are assessed.

The determinants of growth are a tricky matter, making the study of development as frustrating as it is fascinating. In the introduction to Johan Norberg’s latest book, Peak Human (2025), Norberg asserts that “Golden Ages are not dependent on geography, ethnicity, or religion but on what we make of these circumstances.” This assertion harks back to the field of development studies when Ragnar Nurske (Problems of Capital Formation in Underdeveloped Countries, 1953) argued that the process for economic growth is not one that can be standardized. In Nurske’s own words, “economic development has much to do with human endowments, social attitudes, political conditions — and historical accidents.”  

Assessing the past and mapping the potential future is a worthwhile endeavor, even though it is impossible to predetermine what is the right path.

Vicious Circles to Virtuous Cycles

Historically, countries that progressed quickly in productivity and living standards benefited from industrializing the domestic market and leveraging scale economies from manufacturing processes (obvious examples being the United Kingdom, the United States, Germany, and Japan). Investment inflow and human capital formation enabled the sharing of competencies and technologies, and this spurred a stronger environment for wealth creation.

Essentially, the transfer of knowledge, along with the creation and sale of assets, incentivizes infrastructure development and fosters a more diverse and robust market. Industry formation ignites opportunities for increasing returns since businesses serve as each other’s customers. Indeed, companies require backward linkages for materials and services along with frontward connections for distribution and sales. The larger the company, the larger its networks.

Paul Rosenstein-Rodan’s big push theory (1943) proposed that such networks can help break the vicious circle of poverty and replace it with a virtuous cycle of demand and supply. Similarly, Albert Hirschman’s theory of unbalanced growth (1958) also drew attention to the benefits of linkages, in that such connections encourage technological advancements to be harnessed.

Hirschman, among other prominent theorists in development studies, believed that efficacious industries rely on strong linkages, and the better the industry, the better the demand derived from it. And the better the demand, the greater the likelihood of job opportunities and the expansion of complementary as well as competing firms. This process is said to trigger ‘dynamics of development’ and, as demonstrated throughout Norberg’s work, individual liberty and credible institutions are positive prerequisites for getting it started.

Individuals and Ownership

According to Nurske, societal progress is largely dependent on the individuals within it.

Capital formation can be permanently successful only in a capital-conscious community, and this condition, which is just as important for the continued maintenance as for the initial creation of capital, is promoted by a wide diffusion of investment activity among individuals. Nothing matters so much as the quality of the people.

Ayn Rand also emphasized the role individuals play for economic advancement.

America’s abundance was not created by public sacrifice to the common good, but by the productive genius of free men who pursued their own personal interests and the making of their own private fortunes.

It is important to note, though, that the attainment of “private fortunes” necessitates the establishment of property rights. Hernando de Soto, the influential Peruvian development economist, proposed that a formal system of property rights is a must for promoting prosperity. Property devoid of title is what de Soto calls “dead capital,” since individuals are unable to engage in capital formation or utilize their assets as collateral.

Norberg also emphasizes de Soto’s point in stating that, for citizens to be “free to experiment and innovate,” the society in which they live must also have “peace, rule of law, and secure property rights.” Thus, formal and informal institutions play a major part in economic performance, particularly legal infrastructure and a stable business environment.

When both market systems and corporate governance structures are weak, risk-averse producers are unlikely to upgrade or invest, and entrepreneurs are unlikely to gamble with profit and loss potential. “Institutions provide the incentive structure,” as aptly put by Douglas North, and so the stability and legitimacy of a country’s political economy is of great importance.

Institutional vs. State Capacity

Market expansion relies on credible institutions. The concept of an institution and its impact upon the business realm is broad, spanning from laws and standards to culture and expectations. Institutions set the ‘rules of the game’ and scholars such as John Locke, Adam Smith, and John Stuart Mill have all argued that institutions serve as a primary determinant for why some countries are rich and others are poor.

Institutional capacity-building can help attract investments and investments tend to be of great interest to politicians as well as their constituents. Instead of focusing on how to make it easier and more secure to do business, however, politicians often focus on how to incentivize business activity, and those incentives may hurt development more than they help. Whenever grants, subsidies, preferential treatment, etc. are used as incentives for entrepreneurial activities, individuals are tempted to curb their aspirations or shift their efforts toward that which is being offered. Attention gets redirected to competing for rents, rather than being alert to market opportunities. And, if government assistance is attained, further actions may be guided (or tainted) by the strings (or stipulations) attached to what is received.

As businesses become accustomed to bestowed benefits, efforts to retain assistance and demonstrate a persistent need will supplant aspirations for a thriving bottom line. Political elites, instead of customers and investors, will determine who gets rewarded in the marketplace.

Frédéric Bastiat said it best when declaring that “Everyone wants to live at the expense of the state. They forget that the state lives at the expense of everyone.” So, with all this in mind, it seems the primary question for abundance advocates is — who determines the mode for advancement?

Spontaneous Order or Central Planning

As tempting as it is for those with power to think they can spur on progress, entrepreneurship does not function under force or imposition — it comes from the ground up. And, when markets are tampered with, price and demand signals get muddled and the application of individual know-how gets pushed to the side. To be sure, government action only entrenches procedural processes toward collective ends rather than private interests.

F.A. Hayek, in The Use of Knowledge in Society (1945), cautioned that a paternalistic state can dampen an entrepreneurial spirit and impede the development of spontaneous order. Hayek claimed that sustainable development relies on individual intuition.

If we can agree that the economic problem of society is mainly one of rapid adaptation to changes in the particular circumstances of time and place, it would seem to follow that the ultimate decisions must be left to the people who are familiar with these circumstances, who know directly of the relevant changes and of the resources immediately available to meet them.

Truly, the ability and opportunity to earn, while having autonomy when doing so, can serve as a powerful force for the progression of markets. When value is produced, so too is the creation of wealth — and the accumulation of wealth and assets can have a spillover effect elevating the status of society at large. And, as pointed out by Donald Boudreaux, we are currently living “better than ever.”  

Matt Ridley attests, in How Innovation Works (2020), that innovation “is the reason most people today live lives of prosperity and wisdom compared with their ancestors.” According to Ridley, “innovation is the child of freedom, and the parent of prosperity.”

“Prosperity, peace, and progress,” however, according to Norberg, have been “rare in human history” and in the closing chapter of Peak Human, Norberg exclaims that “if we want our culture to thrive, it is necessary to think about what makes that possible and what ruins it.” As such, the current buzz about abundance is a good thing as long as debates focus on principles more than politics. And while the path to progress will inevitably vary for each community, one aspect seems to hold true — society is best served by those free to transact in accordance with their abilities and their personal desires for abundance.

“The welfare state as we know it today can no longer be financed by our economy.”

With that single sentence, Chancellor Friedrich Merz broke one of Germany’s and Western Europe’s greatest political taboos, daring to question the welfare state’s sacred status at a time when its economic costs can no longer be ignored.

For decades, Germany was celebrated as Europe’s economic success story. Its postwar Soziale Marktwirtschaft — the social market economy — combined free-market dynamism with a limited welfare for those truly in need, powering West Germany’s rise from postwar devastation into one of the world’s most prosperous nations. 

Today, however, that model is faltering. Germany faces stagnating growth, declining competitiveness, and the heaviest welfare burden in its history — signs that Europe’s economic engine is seizing up under the weight of its own system.

From Economic Miracle to Welfare Trap

Germany’s rise from postwar ruin was built on Ludwig Erhard’s economic vision — a system that balanced free enterprise with a modest social safety net within a competitive framework. By liberalizing prices and trade, stabilizing the currency, and cutting taxes, Erhard unleashed competition, ended inflation, and sparked the so-called Wirtschaftswunder — the “economic miracle” that brought rapid growth, full employment, and rising living standards.

Yet Erhard’s vision of a modest safety net gradually gave way to extensive welfare expansion — proving why the state should never be trusted with the power to engineer social balance through taxpayers’ money. Once governments gain legitimacy to intervene in the economy “for fairness,” intervention rarely stops; it only grows. 

Starting with the 1957 pension reform and continuing through the 1960s and 1970s, successive governments expanded health insurance, education support, family benefits, housing subsidies, and unemployment protection — laying the foundations of one of Europe’s most generous welfare systems. Today, Germany spends 31 percent of its GDP — roughly €1.3 trillion — on social programs, one of the highest levels among OECD countries.

The pension system is the clearest example of this excess, consuming 12 percent of GDP — over twice the share spent in the UK (5.1 percent). As the population ages and the workforce shrinks, the strain on public finances has become unavoidable. In 1962, six workers supported each retiree; today, barely two do, and that number is expected to continue falling in the years ahead. A system built on such demographics cannot last — it can survive only through higher taxes, mounting debt, and growing deficits.

To sustain this model, German employers are paying the price. Under German law, they must cover half of their workers’ insurance contributions, so every welfare expansion directly raises labor costs. Since the pandemic, non-wage labor costs have risen faster than total wages, eating into profits and leaving little room for pay increases. Social security contributions — long stable below 40 percent of salaries — have now climbed to 42.5 percent and are projected to reach 50 percent within a decade. The result is predictable: squeezed employers, fewer hires, smaller raises, and declining competitiveness.

How Welfare Expansion Undermined Germany’s Prosperity 

The economic toll of Germany’s overgrown welfare state is now unmistakable. Once Europe’s growth engine, Germany has become one of its laggards. Since 2017, GDP has grown by just 1.6 percent, compared to 9.5 percent in the rest of the eurozone. By 2023, it had ranked as the world’s worst-performing major economy, shrinking by 0.3 percent and 0.2 percent in two consecutive years — the first contraction since the early 2000s — and continued to slide under the new current government, with GDP falling by 0.3 percent in Q2 2025. 

Nowhere is this decline more apparent than in the automotive sector — the backbone of Germany’s postwar prosperity. Once global pioneers, Volkswagen, Mercedes-Benz, and BMW now lag behind leaner Chinese and American rivals. Soaring labor costs (€62 per hour, compared to €29 in Spain and €20 in Portugal), combined with heavy regulation and rigid labor rules, have eroded competitiveness. A slow transition from combustion engines to EVs has enabled BYD and Tesla, with faster innovation cycles, advanced technology, and competitive pricing, to seize the lead in the industry.

The energy crisis has deepened their woes: the sudden loss of cheap Russian gas, combined with the government’s arguably short-sighted decision to phase out nuclear power, has left German industries paying up to five times more for electricity than their American or Chinese competitors. Weighed down by high costs and slow adaptation to new technologies, automakers have been forced into painful cost-cutting measures, from plant closures to mass layoffs. Since 2019, the industry has already lost 46,000 jobs, and another 186,000 could follow by 2035.

Meanwhile, welfare and debt continue to grow. Germany’s famed fiscal discipline — once anchored in its constitutional “debt brake” — has all but collapsed. Repeatedly suspended since the pandemic, the rule has been bypassed through off-budget funds and “emergency” spending to finance welfare spending and energy subsidies. Now, Berlin plans to borrow €174 billion in 2026, three times the level of two years ago and the second-highest in postwar history — threatening not only its own stability but also the credibility of Europe’s fiscal rules.

At the root of Germany’s malaise lies a dangerous illusion: that generous welfare can coexist with high productivity. When redistribution outpaces wealth creation, prosperity tends to fade. Left unchecked, welfare states expand faster than the economies that fund them, eroding productivity and burdening future generations. Yet reform remains untouchable — aging voters resist cuts, politicians fear backlash, and the young bear the cost of a system that may not survive.Europe is watching closely. If Germany — the continent’s anchor of fiscal discipline and industrial strength — exposes the limits of its oversized welfare state, the European faith in expansive welfare systems could finally collapse. The first step is to end the denial; the next is to rediscover the realism that once fueled the Wirtschaftswunder. Germany once taught Europe how to rebuild prosperity from ruins. Now it must teach Europe how to confront the truth about welfare states — before they collapse under their own weight.

President Trump last week ended trade talks with Canada because of an advertisement sponsored by the Ontario government featuring snippets of a 1987 speech Ronald Reagan gave, explaining the dangers of protectionism. The point of the advert was clear: protectionism hurts everyone, including the country imposing the protectionist policies. In response, the Ronald Reagan Presidential Foundation & Institute has said that “the ad misrepresents the Presidential Radio Address, and the Government of Ontario did not seek, nor receive, permission to use and edit the remarks.”

While it is presumably true that the Government of Ontario neither sought nor received permission to use and edit the remarks, the question of whether Reagan’s general view of tariffs and trade was misrepresented isn’t really open for debate. No, the ad uses Reagan’s own words to beautifully capture his principled support for free trade and exchange. Reagan would have approved the overarching message of the ad, even if we must agree with the Foundation that it does strip out some of the nuance and context of his April 25, 1987 “Radio Address to the Nation on Free and Fair Trade.” 

As Reagan emphasized in his address, he supported free trade, advocating for bilateral reductions in trade restrictions where he could and unilateral reductions where he could not.  It is true that under his watch, and to a great extent at his discretion, the US did impose tariffs and other trade restrictions. This has caused scholars like Sheldon Richman, then at the Cato Institute, to refer to Reagan as “the most protectionist president since Herbert Hoover,” Victor Davis Hanson, in 2017 to characterize the actions of President Trump during his first term as “a return to, or a refinement of, Reagan’s and the elder Bush’s principled realism: the acceptance that the United States has to protect its friends and deter its enemies,” and New Right thinkers like Oren Cass to claim Reagan as a “trade protectionist” who “basically started a trade war with Japan,” holding him up as a paragon of “trade restrictions done right.”

In doing so, however, these scholars reveal that they have fundamentally missed the forest for the trees. Ironically, they are the ones misrepresenting Reagan’s thoughts on international trade, not the Canadians.

To understand why, we need to appreciate the context within which Reagan took office in 1981.  The US economy was in a deep economic downturn, with high inflation, rising interest rates, and an overall weak economy still trying to recover from the 1980 recession. If there was any industry that was hurt the most by this, it was the American car industry and its union workers, who were hurt not just by the recession, but by the arrival of cheaper, more fuel-efficient, and higher quality Japanese cars.

Faced with mounting pressures not just from the domestic automakers and their unions, but also a protectionist (and Democrat) Congress poised to enact sweeping protectionist legislation, Reagan had a difficult choice before him.  In his autobiography, he writes, “Although I intended to veto any bill Congress might pass imposing quotas on Japanese cars, I realized the problem wouldn’t go away even if I did.” “The problem” Reagan referred to here was not “Japanese imported cars.” It was the demand for protectionist measures from Congress and the union autoworkers.  

Reagan understood that vetoing any protectionist bills that Congress sent him would only forestall the inevitable and use up valuable political capital in the process.  He understood, however, that he needed to do something, so he established the Auto Task Force.  At a meeting, Vice President George H.W. Bush reportedly said, “We’re all for free enterprise, but would any of us find fault if Japan announced without any request from us that they were going to voluntarily reduce their export of autos to America?” Thus, the idea of voluntary export restraint was born.  Reagan dispatched his trade representative, Bill Brock, to help with discussions.  

This led to a meeting in the Oval Office on March 24th, 1981 with the Japanese foreign minister, where, in Reagan’s words, “I told him that our Republican administration firmly opposed import quotas but that strong sentiment was building in Congress among Democrats to impose them. ‘I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop them,’ I said. ‘But I think if you voluntarily set a limit on your automobile exports to this country, it would probably head off the bills pending in Congress and there wouldn’t be any mandatory quotas.’” In a statement given by then-Vice President Bush on April 8, 1981, he said that the White House is not “suggesting to the Japanese what they should voluntarily do” and that “[The administration wants] to avoid starting down that slippery slope of protectionism.” 

In the end, Japan agreed to voluntarily restrict their exports to the United States, initially for a period of three years, though this was extended several times before finally being lifted in 1994.

One might argue that what Reagan was really doing was strong-arming Japan into reducing their exports by threatening the country with something worse if it did not comply.  This is revisionist history at its finest.  Reagan understood that choice is between actual options, not imagined ones.  By preventing Congress from passing a protectionist import quota, Reagan had deliberately chosen the least protectionist option of the actual options before him, as David Henderson (a member of Reagan’s Council of Economic Advisors) notes. Reagan was committed not to protectionism, but to preventing protectionism precisely because, as he notes in his now-even-more-famous Radio Address, “over the long run such trade barriers hurt every American worker and consumer.”

Another example is Reagan’s 1987 imposition of tariffs to stop the Japanese from dumping semiconductors into the US market, which was the occasion of the radio address that the Canadian advertisement drew from. But even in this instance, Reagan attempted to use tariffs as a scaffold, not as a sledgehammer. Reagan accused Japan of violating their agreement in the US-Japan semiconductor trade agreement and placed a 100 percent tariff on specific goods to limit the adverse effects on American consumers. These targeted tariffs were used as a last resort, aimed at forcing compliance with an existing trade deal. As they started to have their intended effect, Reagan was able to reduce them, first in June of 1987 (two months after they were imposed) and then again in November (six months after they were imposed); they were eliminated entirely in 1991. Still, the tariffs harmed US consumers and did little to improve US industrial competitiveness. The use of tariffs to force a country to honor its previous obligations was a dangerous tactic, and Reagan was deeply aware of the consequences if the Japanese responded in kind. The fortieth president understood that trade wars hurt everyone involved and free trade was the ideal. The trade principles and policies of President Trump — easily the most protectionist president since Herbert Hoover — couldn’t be further from Reagan’s. Trump is imposing massive and sweeping tariffs on our allies, whereas Reagan bemoaned targeted tariffs to force compliance with an existing trade deal. 

We can debate whether Reagan compromised his principles when he supported measures like voluntary export restraints or semiconductor tariffs. But we cannot honestly debate what those principles were. As Reagan himself said, “imposing such tariffs or trade barriers and restrictions of any kind are steps [he is] loath to take.”

Reagan was a free-trade advocate through and through. As America revisits trade policy in 2025, we should remember his true legacy — using every tool available to preserve and expand free trade, not to abandon it.