Brexit, Brussels, and the Burden of Bureaucracy: What the U.S. Can Learn from Britain's Regulatory Reckoning

Recently, CRF Director Andrew Langer had the fortune of sitting down with Fred de Fossard, Director of Strategy at the UK’s Prosperity Institute, for a wide ranging interview. Their conversation spanned a wide range of issues, but one theme came through loud and clear: the regulatory state doesn’t just stifle innovation and competition—it drives entire nations to reclaim their sovereignty.

For the United Kingdom, that moment came in 2016 with Brexit. And nearly a decade later, they’re still working through the challenges and opportunities that come with untangling from the sprawling web of European Union regulations. But what’s most interesting—and relevant for Americans—is what the Brexit experience can teach us about the costs of overly granular, prescriptive regulation and the power of a people who finally say “enough.”

Regulation: The Real Root of Brexit

Yes, immigration played a major role in the Brexit debate. But Fred made something else crystal clear: beneath the headlines, one of the core drivers was regulatory overreach. The EU had become a machine of harmonization—imposing one-size-fits-all rules from Brussels that ignored local knowledge, market realities, and national traditions. Britain, with its common law tradition and preference for outcomes-based governance, was increasingly chafing under Europe’s process-based, box-ticking mandates.

Take the infamous olive oil rule. EU law once dictated that restaurants could only serve olive oil in its original container—no decanting allowed. Why? To prevent adulteration. But as Fred, a former chef, and I both know, any half-decent cook can smell or taste when olive oil’s been cut. This was the EU’s brand of lawmaking: blanket rules for a continent, written without regard for context, trust, or tradition.

That might seem trivial—until you realize it was emblematic of a much deeper problem. When regulations become so detailed that they override local judgment and stifle innovation, they stop protecting consumers and start protecting bureaucracies.

A Tale of Two Traditions: Anglo-American vs. Napoleonic Legal Systems

De Fossard, drawing on his background in constitutional history, highlighted a fundamental difference in legal philosophy. Britain’s common law system—shared in spirit with the U.S.—is built on precedent, limited government, and bottom-up accountability. The French-style Napoleonic code, which heavily influences the EU, is rooted in top-down control. Rules must be followed to the letter. Innovation is boxed in. Risk is something to be avoided—not managed.

The contrast matters. In the U.S., we’re increasingly seeing that same Napoleonic creep—especially in how federal agencies regulate everything from energy to data privacy. And unless we course-correct, we could find ourselves dealing with a homegrown version of the regulatory sclerosis that drove the UK to walk away from the EU in the first place.

Britain’s Regulatory “Glidepath”—and Ours

What makes this story more relevant than ever is the concept of the regulatory glidepath—a term we use often to describe the economic impact of stabilizing or slowing the growth of new regulations.

Under the EU, Britain’s regulatory costs were soaring. Since Brexit, they’ve been able to sidestep new EU mandates—like the Digital Services Act, AI Act, and new packaging rules—that are already adding billions in compliance costs across the continent. While the UK hasn’t fully taken advantage of its regulatory freedom yet, just not adding those new layers has spared it immense expense. That’s the glidepath in action.

Here in the U.S., the difference between a 0.33% regulatory growth rate (as we had under the Trump administration) and the nearly 16% annual growth rate seen under Biden is massive. If Biden’s trajectory had held through 2030, we’d be staring at $7 trillion in annual regulatory costs. Instead, the decision to slow things down—even without sweeping deregulation—has created hundreds of billions in avoided burdens. In other words, the savings alone from not making things worse offset many of the economic concerns people have about policies like tariffs.

The Challenge of Reform

De Fossard was candid about the challenges Britain faces in completing its regulatory overhaul. Many of the worst regulations remain on the books. Progress has been made in niche areas—like genetic engineering and limited GDPR divergence—but a deeper shift is still needed.

This mirrors our own battle here. We’ve seen minor victories—like the Supreme Court’s recent Loper Bright decision on Chevron deference—but the administrative state remains a colossus. And much like in Britain, meaningful reform here won’t come from one executive order or one election. It will take sustained legislative action, cultural change, and public pressure.

Lessons for America

So what should the U.S. take away from Britain’s experience?

1. Granular, prescriptive regulation doesn’t just burden businesses—it erodes democratic accountability. When rules are made by remote agencies or foreign bodies, citizens lose faith in government. That’s not anti-government sentiment—it’s a call for legitimacy.

   
   

2. Slowing regulatory growth creates tangible economic benefits. Even if you don’t roll back a single rule, keeping new ones from piling up can save billions. That’s money that can be reinvested in growth, innovation, and jobs.

   
   

3. A nation’s legal tradition matters. The Anglo-American model of limited government and common law isn't just an academic curiosity—it’s a foundation for prosperity. Departing from that model, as the EU has done, carries real costs.

   
   

4. Reform takes more than good intentions—it requires institutions and accountability. Britain has parliamentary sovereignty. In America, we rely on separation of powers and the Administrative Procedure Act. Both systems have tools for reform—but they must be used.

   
   

5. Philosophy drives policy. When regulators justify new rules by saying, “it’s a good thing,” without evidence, that’s ideology masquerading as governance. We need to return to first principles—show us the need, show us the benefit, and show us the cost.

   
   

Brexit wasn’t just about borders or Brussels. It was a shot across the bow of an elite-driven, technocratic system that had stopped listening to its people. And in many ways, it’s a cautionary tale for the United States.

If we want to avoid our own version of a regulatory rebellion, we’d do well to start asking the same questions the British people did: Who makes the rules? Who benefits? And what’s the cost?

Because when regulation becomes an end in itself—divorced from impact, insulated from accountability—that’s when the people push back. And they should.