Those of us engaged in political discourse often assume we’re having novel debates—that the issues of the past remain in the past, and that the controversies we argue over today are entirely new. Yet, as Solomon wrote, there is nothing new under the sun. That includes political debates.
I’ve been enjoying William Cooper’s biography of John Quincy Adams, The Lost Founding Father. It’s fascinating to learn about the deep debates between political factions in the 1820s and 1830s. We often caricature the Founding Fathers and other historic American statesmen based on a few familiar quotes, so it’s all too easy to forget that they were human beings like us, with foibles and failings, often picking fights with political enemies not over grand ideological concerns, but out of personal animosity.
We also tend to forget that the modern political divide between liberal Democrats and conservative Republicans only dates back to the New Deal. Prior to the 1930s, the GOP was in many ways considered the more progressive party. For example, in addition to stopping the spread of slavery in the territories, the first Republican platform also called for government subsidies for railroads.
Indeed, the size and scope of government was already a deep divide in early 19th-century politics. John Quincy Adams’ faction, which eventually coalesced into the Whig Party, supported what Adams called “internal improvements”—using tariffs to fund the construction of roads, canals, and railroads to build a stronger, more connected nation.
Their opponents, followers of Andrew Jackson who would become known as Democrats, were far more conservative. They did not believe the Constitution authorized the federal government to engage in such projects. They also feared allowing a national government to run roughshod over state sovereignty and local rights.
Today, we often associate nationalism with opposition to globalism—“America First.” But in the 19th century, nationalism was the position of Whigs like Adams and Henry Clay, who saw the potential of building a great and unified American nation, rather than leaving the country a loose confederation of states. By contrast, Democrats typically placed loyalty to their states above loyalty to the Union as a whole.
Adams’ vision of a stronger nation—in addition to transportation, he wanted to build a national university and an astronomical observatory—never quite materialized. Andrew Jackson defeated him in 1828, serving two terms followed by his ally Martin Van Buren. By the 1840s, questions about Manifest Destiny, the annexation of Texas, and the spread of slavery had become paramount. Yet the Whigs, and later their successors in the Republican Party, continued to believe that the federal government could and should take an active role in shaping the country.
By the 1860s and 1870s, the federal government was subsidizing the laying of railroad tracks by granting land to railroad companies. This enabled the rapid expansion of American society across the continent, culminating in the completion of the first transcontinental railroad in 1869. It also made rail companies very rich and powerful, which led progressive Republicans like Theodore Roosevelt to break up monopolies—another use of government power that many conservatives today find distasteful.
When we debate the size and scope of government now, we tend to do so in general and vague terms. We talk about how government has grown too big, how it has expanded far beyond the role the Founders set for it, and how many of its functions are unconstitutional. We repeat Ronald Reagan’s quote that “government is the problem.”
Yet government keeps growing.
I think we need to change how we approach this issue. As John Quincy Adams’ example shows, American statesmen have debated the role of government since the beginning. This isn’t a problem that suddenly appeared in 2008, 1965, or 1933. Simply appealing to the past—or even to the Constitution—without specifics seems like a pointless exercise.
Instead, we must define the proper size, scope, and role of government at every level. It’s important to remember that state governments have different powers and limitations than the federal government. The Tenth Amendment says, “The powers not delegated to the United States by the Constitution, nor prohibited by it to the States, are reserved to the States respectively, or to the people.” That implies many areas in which states have authority that the federal government does not—such as regulating marriage, establishing public schools, and adjudicating water rights.
Whether state governments should do those things is another matter. That’s one of the distinctions we must make when we debate these issues: the difference between what is legal or constitutional, and what is moral or practical. Arguing that states don’t have the authority to establish public schools is self-defeating—it’s plainly authorized in our state constitution. But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t ask questions about the system’s efficacy, how it’s being run, and whether there are better alternatives in the private sector.
During the ratification debates, Anti-Federalists demanded a Bill of Rights to constrain the new federal government from infringing upon liberty. Federalists argued that such protections weren’t necessary—that unlike states, which have broad powers unless explicitly limited, the federal government was confined to its enumerated powers.
The Bill of Rights, the first ten amendments to the Constitution, was the compromise between the two camps. And I think it’s safe to say the Anti-Federalists were right—can you imagine what the federal government might have already done if the First, Second, or Fourth Amendments didn’t exist?
Nevertheless, the Founders clearly believed that state governments held far more expansive authority than the federal government. As a result, the debate over the size and scope of state government is more complex than the debate over federal power. Scroll through the list of Idaho’s 189 state agencies and ask whether these are things government should be doing. Every one of these agencies was created and funded by the Legislature and presumably passes constitutional muster. But should they exist at all?
Let’s start making moral and practical arguments about the size and scope of government. How many professions truly require a government agency to issue licenses? A simple Control-F search of the agency list finds 52 different boards and commissions under the Division of Occupational and Professional Licenses. State government regulates acupuncturists, athletic trainers, barbers, shorthand reporters, chiropractors, family counselors, dieticians, elevator technicians, and more—and that’s just a small sampling through the E’s. I’m sure there are reasonable arguments for each board, but are they all really necessary today?
Do we need a Hispanic Affairs Commission? A Human Rights Commission? Idaho Public Television? The state also manages numerous boards and commissions dealing with agricultural commodities like beans, barley, and potatoes. While these are typically funded by growers, they remain government agencies.
Former state senator and current candidate Scott Herndon recently shared a story about the minutiae of government regulation:
Government always has a tendency to go outside of its lane, and it is the little things that we must keep if we are to keep the big things.
In 2024, I voted for a bill that increased general contractor registration terms from 1 year to 2 years. The idea was to reduce red tape and government administration. The bill also increased the licensing lengths for a lot of other professions as well.
Since that bill went into law, the Idaho Contractors Board has done the opposite of the law. This year, they just started demanding that registered contractors update their proof of workers comp and liability insurance by filing copies with the contractor’s board every time the insurance policies renew. This is even though they never promulgated a rule that required such certificate of insurance updates.
If you don’t upload your new insurance certificate to their website on-time, they revoke your registration automatically.
The only problem? Idaho law actually states that the Contractors Board cannot revoke your registration without first giving you a public hearing, and then they can only revoke registration after a hearing upon a finding that the contractor did not meet the conditions of the statutes (like maintaining insurance coverages).
The Contractors Board, a part of the Division of Professional Licenses is operating outside of the law, and I have sent them a demand letter to come into compliance with Idaho law, specifically sections 54-5210 and 54-5215.
A few days later, Herndon followed up, saying the Contractor’s Board had agreed with his position in part and promised to review whether their insurance demands were legally justified.
One of the biggest recent debates has been over the Idaho Launch Grant, Gov. Brad Little’s signature program, which passed the Legislature by a narrow margin in 2023. The Launch Grant allows high school seniors to apply for taxpayer-funded scholarships for trade school or workforce training. The governor and his allies call it a win-win—helping students get good jobs while filling labor shortages in Idaho companies.
Opponents (including myself, on several occasions) warn that LAUNCH could easily become a slush fund for politically connected companies, with students serving as conduits for tax dollars to flow into corporate coffers. We also argue it’s not the government’s role to pick winners and losers in the private sector. Republicans say they believe in free markets, yet turn around and support programs like this, claiming the market isn’t allocating resources efficiently enough.
While I believe the arguments against LAUNCH are strong, this sort of program is not new. In the 1950s, facing the prospect of a nuclear-armed Soviet Union launching satellites into orbit, President Eisenhower supported increased federal funding for math and science education to train young Americans for the next generation of space and weapons development.
Again, my point is that we need to go beyond clichés and bumper-sticker slogans. Dismissing policies as simply immoral or unconstitutional isn’t real debate, and it doesn’t persuade anyone who isn’t already on your side.
Nearly all conservatives, and I believe most Republicans, agree that government is too big, too inefficient, and too entangled in the private sector. But simply repeating “small government” like a mantra gets us nowhere. We must start getting specific: What exactly is government doing that it should not be? And what’s our plan to unwind it?
If we are serious about reducing the size and scope of government, then we need more than rhetoric, we need a plan. It’s time to organize a systematic review of existing state agencies, boards, and commissions. Legislators should begin using sunset clauses and oversight bills aimed at winding down programs that no longer serve a clear public interest. Citizen groups, party committees, and grassroots advocates can assist by identifying low-hanging fruit and proposing model legislation. Reform doesn’t have to happen all at once, but it does have to start somewhere, which means moving from general complaints to specific, actionable policy. Government is not going to limit itself, so it’s up to us to set the boundaries.
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About Brian Almon
Brian Almon is the Editor of the Gem State Chronicle. He also serves as Chairman of the District 14 Republican Party and is a trustee of the Eagle Public Library Board. He lives with his wife and five children in Eagle.
