Delaware recently lowered standards for its lawyers in the name of diversity, equity, and inclusion . Entry requirements in other skilled professions, including healthcare, have also been lowered of late in many states. Though these efforts are rooted in a noxious liberal ideology, the end is actually a good one. Why governments should be so deeply involved in the establishment of minimum occupational qualifications has never been clear and should be reconsidered.

While some worry that reductions in standards may harm clients and patients, reformers have pointed out that occupational licensing and other government-mandated occupational standards unnecessarily harm both consumers, in the form of higher service prices, and some potential service providers, in the form of prohibitively high entry costs.

Yet America today is awash in occupational licensing requirements, most of which cannot be justified as health and safety measures by any stretch. In Massachusetts , for example, cosmetologists must complete 1,000 hours of coursework and two years of apprenticeship before obtaining a license. Emergency medical technicians, by contrast, need only 150 hours of coursework before being allowed to work in that state.

Occupational licensing proponents also claim the practice should be uncontroversial because it dates back to America’s colonial period. Such claims are technically correct but substantively wrong. Those practicing a wide range of nonagricultural occupations in America before the Civil War did have to obtain “licenses,” but in the vast majority of instances, they were for revenue purposes only or were used to enforce regulations against gambling, drinking, or trading with American Indians. There were no examinations or educational requirements for bakers, blacksmiths, butchers, candlestick makers, or hundreds of other “licensed” occupations. Such traditional licensing became unnecessary with the advent of income taxes and direct regulation in the 20th century.

In early America, only doctors, lawyers, and ship pilots needed licenses attesting to their minimum competence. In each case, experienced practitioners were able to keep their fees high by convincing legislators that low-skilled quacks, pettifoggers, and sea charlatans should not be able to sell their services at any price because they could cause death and/or massive financial loss if they lacked “sufficient” education, experience, or expertise. The public generally acquiesced to quality licensing in those professions, but in the Jacksonian period, there was significant pushback due to some high-profile failures of licensed doctors, lawyers, and pilots. Doctors were especially vulnerable because emerging unlicensed therapies helped some patients injured by the blood-letting therapies pushed by licensed doctors.

Many antebellum Americans rightly wondered why simple market forces were deemed insufficient to resolve questions of quality. Doctors, lawyers, and pilots all developed reputations. Those with good reputations thrived, while those with bad ones soon left for occupations where they could earn more.

Instead of helping to clarify matters, licensing muted reputation formation by implying that licensed providers were always competent and that unlicensed ones never were, though reality was often far more nuanced. Thus, many licensed professionals found it advantageous also to be bonded, or in other words, to stake money on their performance. Today, technological advances could render reputation formation and bonding more effective than ever.

In short, the time has come to rid the nation of occupational licensing laws that hurt consumers and some potential providers, including people of color, without commensurate gain. We have nothing to lose but costly, ineffective chains.