Regulations fuel populist anger in rural America

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ROCK HALL, Md. — When Dave Harden decided to run for Congress as a Democrat on Maryland's conservative Eastern Shore, a friend gave him a piece of free advice.

"Democrats lose on three things: abortion, guns and regulations," the friend said. "If you keep one, you have to give up the other two."

Abortion and gun rights have both inspired passionate activism and countless front-page news articles. Regulations — not so much. Yet nitpicky government rules remain a potent and underappreciated source of populist anger against Democrats, especially in rural areas.

On the campaign trail, Harden has gotten an earful from voters about maddening and arbitrary restrictions: Why are wineries in Maryland limited to serving only 13 kinds of food? Why does a woman who sells her grandmother's cobbler have to cough up tens of thousands of dollars to build a commercial kitchen? Why does a federal inspector have to be on hand to watch wild catfish get gutted — but not other kinds of seafood? The short answer is that restaurant associations tend to wield more political clout than wineries, and catfish farmers in Mississippi are more powerful than seafood harvesters in Maryland. Big businesses can afford to hire lawyers to help them cut through red tape and lobbyists to bend government rules to their will. Small businesses, especially in rural places, get slammed.

"The claim of overregulation is especially animating on the political right," Joshua Sewell of Taxpayers for Common Sense told me. He said misleading rumors that the Environmental Protection Agency planned to regulate farm dust or that President Joe Biden's Build Back Better plan would have taxed belching cows played right into the stereotype of Democrats as city folk who were infuriatingly eager to regulate almost anything in rural America.

In 2006, Democrats and Republicans had similar views on government regulation of business: About 40% of Republicans said there was too much, compared with about 36% of Democrats. But the percentage of Republicans who felt that way climbed steadily under President Barack Obama, who enacted more economically significant rules than his predecessors. By the end of his first term, 84% of Republicans thought that government meddled too much in business, while only 22% of Democrats agreed, according to Gallup. Democrats were more likely to say that the government doesn't regulate businesses enough.

With business owners more likely to be Republicans and government workers more likely to be Democrats, you have the makings of a yawning partisan divide. Donald Trump campaigned on a promise to remove two rules for every new one that was put in place.

Can Democrats flip the script and win over conservative districts, particularly small-business owners in those areas, by speaking out against government red tape? Harden, a 59-year-old former Foreign Service officer who is running for Congress in Maryland's First District, is trying. He hopes to replace Andy Harris, the sole Republican in Maryland's congressional delegation. (Harris voted to overturn the results of the presidential election in 2020 and reportedly once tried to bring a gun onto the House floor.)

Harden — who must first win a primary election later this month — is trying to chart an alternative path for Democrats in rural areas. He's no fan of Trump. He left a 22-year career in the Foreign Service in 2018 because he didn't want to serve the Trump administration. But when it comes to regulations, Harden doesn't sound all that much different from Trump.

"The regulations in rural economies are ridiculous," he told me.

Harden is trying to walk a difficult line, appealing to voters who are angry about government overreach without turning off the Democratic base. He says he doesn't oppose reasonable environmental regulations, but he rails against rules that make it harder for small businesses to survive.

It's a message that comes naturally to him. He spent years trying to improve the business environments in Iraq and the Palestinian territories as a senior USAID official. He led a program in the West Bank town of Jenin that opened up a border crossing with Israel and prevailed on the Israeli government to allow more Israeli cars into Jenin so that Israeli Arabs could shop there, helping to start an economic revival. He is now trying to bring those lessons home to Maryland, where he grew up.

On a recent Saturday, he squinted out at Chesapeake Bay, riffing about how to promote local economic development with Capt. Rob Newberry, the head of the Delmarva Fisheries Association, which represents licensed watermen in the area. Newberry is a Republican who once hung a sign cursing Biden on his boat. But he supports Harden, who listens patiently to his complaints about regulations.

Newberry has grievances with people across the political spectrum: with the environmentalists who lobby for more restrictions on the watermen; with the cities and companies responsible for faulty wastewater treatment systems and runoff that pollutes the bay; and with Harris, the incumbent.

Newberry says he has become disillusioned with the political sausage-making behind government rules. But he still works within the system to try to change them. He testifies before lawmakers and serves on committees, hoping that it will make a difference.

Democrats have to find a way to reconnect with rural America, Harden told me. Frank talk about regulations is a good place to start.

Farah Stockman is a member of the New York Times Editorial Board.