May 9, 2025
Freedom to Grow
Helping Industries Thrive — and Knowing When to Let Go
By: Idaho Dist. 25 Representative David Leavitt
You can’t buy a Toyota Hilux in the United States.
That might not seem like a big deal — after all, we’ve got trucks of every size and shape here. But around the world, the Hilux is considered one of the toughest, most reliable pickups ever built. It’s the vehicle of choice in warzones, jungles, farms, and deserts — where failure isn’t an option and durability is everything.
Its reputation is so well-known that even American YouTubers have taken it upon themselves to test its limits. After watching the iconic Top Gear episode where the Hilux survives a series of brutal stunts, WhistlinDiesel ran his own test — dropping it, smashing it, dragging it — and still, the Hilux refused to die.
It’s funny, yes — but also revealing. This is a truck with legendary performance, coveted by people around the world, including Americans who can’t buy it — not because it’s unsafe, not because it’s low-quality, but because of an outdated U.S. trade law called the Chicken Tax.
This 25% tariff on imported light trucks was enacted in the 1960s in retaliation for European poultry restrictions. To work around it, Toyota created the Tacoma for the U.S. market and built it domestically. But the Hilux? Still off-limits.
In a strange way, the policy worked. It protected jobs and encouraged regional manufacturing. But it also proved how well-meaning government interference can outlive its purpose. What began as temporary protection turned into permanent distortion.
Which brings me back home — to Idaho — and to the dozens of commissions our state continues to fund, empower, and preserve long after their original mission has been fulfilled.
These include the Idaho Wine Commission, and the wheat, hops, barley, potato, and bean commissions — all of which collect mandatory assessments from producers to fund marketing and research. Yes, even Idaho’s most iconic product — the world-famous potato — is managed through a state commission.
These commissions were created to help industries get off the ground, gain exposure, and develop markets. And they succeeded. Idaho’s agriculture and specialty crops are now recognized globally.
But nowhere in Idaho Code does it say these commissions are meant to be permanent — because they weren’t. The Potato Commission was created to “promote the sale and use” of Idaho potatoes. The Wine Commission’s goal was to “establish markets.” These are clearly defined objectives — not open-ended mandates.
Unlike many temporary state or federal programs that expire or require reauthorization, these commissions operate indefinitely. No sunset clause. No regular review. And often, no direct accountability to the producers who fund them.
Over time, they’ve grown in budget, authority, and political influence. They operate in a legal gray area: funded by state-mandated assessments, governed by governor-appointed boards, and often favoring large agribusinesses over smaller, independent producers. And every year, they return to the legislature or executive branch asking for more — more grants, more authority, more time.
It’s the same pattern we see with tariffs like the Chicken Tax. What began as strategic support slowly calcifies into structural dependence. Bureaucracies don’t let go easily. Without a clear endpoint, temporary support becomes permanent policy.
This video does an excellent job showing how a tariff originally aimed at protecting poultry exports ended up reshaping America’s truck market for decades. The takeaway applies just as much here: if government policies aren’t designed to end, they never will.
This isn’t a call to tear everything down overnight. But it is a call to start planning for independence.
There’s nothing stopping producers from forming nonprofit associations — 501(c)(5)s or (c)(6)s — to carry out marketing, education, and research on their own terms. That’s exactly how private industry groups function across the country, without state mandates or taxpayer dollars.
The path forward is simple: democratize these commissions by giving every producer a real voice in leadership and funding decisions. Begin a structured transition to nonprofit status. Replace mandatory assessments with voluntary dues. Then sunset the statutes that created these commissions to begin with.
No more permanent state boards. No more government-run industry promotion. Just Idaho producers leading themselves — the way a free market should work.
If a commission’s work is valuable, producers will support it voluntarily. If not, it shouldn’t be propped up by force.
Some will say this approach is anti-agriculture or anti-industry. It’s not. It’s pro-liberty. Pro-responsibility. Pro-accountability. I want to see Idaho’s industries thrive not because government carried them forever, but because they grew strong enough to carry themselves.
In the coming months, I intend to explore legislation that would begin this transition — not just for the Idaho Wine Commission, but for every commission operating under state statute. Each should be reviewed, reauthorized — or respectfully retired.
If commissions can mandate dues, assessments, or fees without choice or accountability, then for producers, it’s a tax by another name — and it deserves scrutiny. So the hard question remains: why are they still paying for it?
At the heart of this conversation is a deeper truth — one we too often forget in government: The role of the state is not to manage markets or subsidize industry. The role of government is to protect liberty. Our Constitution wasn’t written to preserve bureaucracies. It was written to safeguard the freedoms of individuals — including the freedom to associate, to compete, and yes, to opt out.
Producers should be free to build their industry, fund their organizations, and define their future — not because the government says so, but because the government finally got out of the way.
Let’s restore the proper boundaries. Let’s reaffirm that the business of business belongs in private hands. And let’s remember: the strength of Idaho’s economy doesn’t lie in the permanence of commissions — it lies in the independence of its people.
Because in the end, freedom is the best foundation we can offer.
