For years, Bitcoin has been described as unhackable. Its cryptography is strong, its network decentralized, and its track record resilient. But there is a growing conversation among engineers and researchers that deserves more public attention, not because it signals imminent collapse, but because it highlights a real and often misunderstood future risk: quantum computing.

The concern is not science fiction. It is rooted in the mathematics that secure Bitcoin itself.

Bitcoin relies on two major forms of cryptography. The first is hashing, which underpins mining and address generation. The second is digital signatures, specifically elliptic curve cryptography, which allows users to prove ownership of their coins. Today, both are considered secure against classical computers. But quantum computers operate under a different set of rules.

Using an algorithm known as Shor’s algorithm, a sufficiently powerful quantum computer could theoretically derive a private key from a public key. That matters because Bitcoin transactions ultimately reveal public keys. If an attacker could reverse engineer the private key from that public information, they could spend coins that are not theirs.

This does not mean all Bitcoin would suddenly vanish. The risk is more specific and more nuanced. Only certain coins would be vulnerable at first, particularly those whose public keys are already exposed on the blockchain. This includes some early Bitcoin addresses and cases where users have reused addresses. Newer address formats are more protective because they keep the public key hidden until the moment a transaction is made.

Even then, the attack is not as simple as pressing a button and draining the network. Timing would matter. An attacker would need to derive a private key quickly enough to interfere with a transaction before it is confirmed. That requires a level of quantum computing power that does not exist today.

And that is the key point. The threat is real, but it is not immediate.

Experts across academia, government, and industry generally agree that cryptographically relevant quantum computers are still years away, though estimates vary widely. Some projections suggest decades. Others argue it could arrive sooner if breakthroughs accelerate progress. The uncertainty is part of the challenge.

What makes this issue worth paying attention to now is not the likelihood of a sudden attack, but the scale of preparation required. Upgrading Bitcoin’s cryptography is not as simple as updating an app. It would require coordination across developers, miners, exchanges, and millions of users. It would also require moving funds to new address types designed to resist quantum attacks.

There are already early discussions within the Bitcoin development community about how such a transition could happen. Proposals for post quantum cryptography exist, and standards bodies like the National Institute of Standards and Technology have begun approving new algorithms designed to withstand quantum attacks. But no final path has been adopted for Bitcoin, and any change will involve tradeoffs in security, efficiency, and compatibility.

The cold wallet question also illustrates the complexity. Many people assume that storing Bitcoin offline makes it immune to future threats. Cold storage protects against hacking through the internet, but it does not change the underlying cryptography. If a public key is exposed, the theoretical quantum risk applies regardless of whether the private key is stored online or offline.

None of this is a reason for panic. It is a reason for awareness.

Bitcoin has faced technical challenges before and adapted over time. But quantum computing presents a different kind of problem. It is not about a bug or a vulnerability that can be patched quickly. It is about a fundamental shift in computing power that could eventually undermine the assumptions Bitcoin was built on.

The responsible approach is neither dismissal nor alarmism. It is education and preparation. Understanding where the risks lie, how they might develop, and what steps may be needed in the future is far more useful than assuming either that Bitcoin is perfectly safe or that it is doomed.

In the end, the conversation about quantum computing is less about whether Bitcoin survives and more about how it evolves.

There is a peculiar ritual that plays out every cycle in Bitcoin. Smart and well informed people make confident predictions about where the price is headed next, and then the market humbles nearly all of them. It is not that analysts like James Check, Anthony Pompliano, Jordy Visser, Joel Bomgar, or Michael Saylor lack credibility. Quite the opposite. They bring data, macro frameworks, and years of experience. But when you step back and look at their views together, something more important becomes clear than any single price target. Even the best informed voices do not really know what Bitcoin will do in the short term.

Listen closely and a pattern emerges. Check warns of sideways movement and the possibility of painful declines before any sustained rally. Visser describes phases where early holders sell into new demand, creating turbulence and uncertainty. Pompliano talks about quiet periods that often come before major moves, but does not claim to know exactly when that shift will happen. Bomgar points to improving fundamentals but avoids making precise short term calls. Even Saylor, who is known for his strong conviction, focuses far more on long term structural trends than on where Bitcoin might land in the next six months.

Despite their different tones, they largely agree on one thing. The near term is likely to be messy.

That reality is uncomfortable in a market that thrives on bold predictions. Investors want clarity. They want to know if Bitcoin is going to fifty thousand or one hundred fifty thousand in the near future. But the honest answer, reflected in these perspectives, is that short term price action is driven by forces that are difficult to predict. Liquidity cycles, macroeconomic shifts, investor sentiment, and the behavior of large holders all play a role, and none of them move in a perfectly predictable way.

What stands out is not disagreement, but shared uncertainty.

That uncertainty points to a different way of thinking about Bitcoin. Instead of trying to predict every movement, many investors are choosing to focus on a longer time horizon. The idea is simple. Short term price action is noise, while long term fundamentals are what matter. Bitcoin has a fixed supply. Adoption continues to grow. Institutions are becoming more involved. And its role as an alternative monetary asset is gaining recognition. Those factors do not change because of a few volatile months.

This is where the real divide exists. It is not between bullish and bearish analysts, but between those focused on the short term and those focused on the long term.

Short term predictions will always vary. Some will call for declines, others for rapid gains. Occasionally someone will get it right, but more often those predictions will miss the mark. Meanwhile, the long term case for Bitcoin continues to build gradually.

That is why a consistent approach of investing with a long term perspective, rather than reacting to every forecast, has proven to be more durable.

The irony is that the more you listen to expert predictions, the clearer it becomes that certainty is hardest to find where people want it most. In the short term, no one really knows. Over the long term, the direction becomes much clearer.

Bitcoin does not reward perfect timing. It rewards patience and conviction.

And in a market defined by uncertainty, that may be the only advantage that truly lasts.

Bitcoin is one of the most important monetary innovations in a generation. It gives individuals a censorship-resistant alternative to government-controlled money, a fixed supply no central bank can dilute, and the ability to hold and transfer value without the permission of any intermediary. From a liberty standpoint, that is profoundly good.

So let me be clear: I support Bitcoin. What I oppose is the growing movement to have government buy and hold it as a “strategic reserve asset.” Those of us who genuinely value both sound money and limited government should oppose it too.

The argument for state Bitcoin reserves sounds appealing. Proponents call it a hedge against inflation, a signal of financial innovation, a way to position states for a decentralized future. Some frame it as monetary sovereignty. But strip away the framing, and the question is simple: Should your state government be in the business of making investment decisions with taxpayer money?

The answer should be no—not because Bitcoin is too risky (private citizens are free to take risks with their own funds), but because government should not be a market actor at all. When a state buys Bitcoin hoping it will appreciate, that is not a reserve strategy. A reserve is about liquidity and stability. What proponents are describing is a portfolio decision—a bet on future price performance. Call it what it is: speculation with public funds.

Once lawmakers accept that logic, there is no limiting principle. If appreciation justifies buying Bitcoin, why not equities? Why not tech funds, real estate, or venture capital? Every asset class has a compelling long-term story. The moment government enters the investment business, the argument that it should invest only in Bitcoin becomes very hard to defend.

There is also the asymmetry of risk. In private markets, gains and losses fall on those who voluntarily took the position. In government, politicians take credit for gains and taxpayers absorb the losses—or the foregone alternatives. That is not market discipline. That is moral hazard financed by people who had no say in the matter.

Here is the deeper problem. A government actively seeking assets to purchase is a government that already assumes it has a legitimate claim to more money than it needs. If the state has surplus revenue, the proper response is not to build a portfolio. The proper response is to cut taxes, reduce spending, pay down obligations, and return resources to the private economy. State Bitcoin reserves become an excuse to avoid the harder reforms that actually matter.

Sound money matters because it limits government power. It disciplines politicians, restrains manipulation, and protects the public from the quiet theft of inflation. But adding Bitcoin to a state treasury does not restrain government—it expands its financial footprint, introduces new discretionary authority, and invites exactly the kind of political maneuvering that sound money is supposed to prevent.

Bitcoin was created as an alternative to government-managed money. It is a check on state power, not a new instrument of it. We should protect that distinction—and resist every effort, however well-intentioned, to blur it.

The filibuster is one of the most distinctive and often misunderstood features of the United States Senate. Though frequently invoked in modern political debates, its origins and evolution reveal a procedural tool that has changed dramatically over time.

Contrary to popular belief, the filibuster was not part of the Constitution, nor was it intentionally designed by the Founders. Instead, it emerged in the early 19th century almost by accident. In 1806, the Senate eliminated a rule known as the “previous question” motion, which had allowed a simple majority to end debate. Without that mechanism, senators were left with the ability to speak for as long as they wished, effectively enabling unlimited debate on legislation.

For much of the 19th and early 20th centuries, the filibuster remained a rarely used tactic. When it did occur, it took the form of what is now called a “talking filibuster.” Senators seeking to delay or block a bill had to physically hold the floor and continue speaking, sometimes for hours or even days. This made the filibuster highly visible and physically demanding. It was not enough to oppose a bill. One had to sustain the effort in real time, often under intense public scrutiny.

The first major attempt to limit this practice came in 1917, when the Senate adopted Rule XXII, establishing the cloture process. Cloture allows the Senate to end debate with a supermajority vote. Initially set at two-thirds of senators present and voting, the threshold was lowered in 1975 to three-fifths of the full Senate, which is 60 votes if all seats are filled. This change marked a significant step in balancing the Senate’s tradition of extended debate with the need to eventually reach decisions.

However, the most consequential shift in the filibuster’s history occurred during the 1970s with procedural reforms that allowed the Senate to consider multiple pieces of legislation simultaneously. This “two-track system” meant that a filibuster no longer brought all Senate business to a halt. As a result, the nature of the filibuster changed. Senators no longer needed to continuously speak on the floor to block a bill. Instead, they could simply signal their intent to filibuster.

This modern version is often referred to as a “silent” or “virtual” filibuster. In practice, it has transformed the filibuster from a physical act of endurance into a procedural requirement. Today, most legislation in the Senate effectively needs 60 votes to advance, even though a simple majority is sufficient for final passage. The mere threat of a filibuster is typically enough to trigger this higher threshold.

The distinction between the traditional talking filibuster and the modern version highlights how Senate rules and practices evolve over time. What began as an unintended consequence of a rule change has become a central feature of legislative procedure. Whether viewed as a safeguard for minority participation or simply a feature of Senate process, the filibuster’s current form reflects decades of procedural adaptation rather than a fixed constitutional design.

Understanding this evolution is essential to understanding the Senate itself, a body where rules, norms, and traditions often carry as much weight as formal law.

In a recent conversation between a colleague of mine and a candidate running for state legislature, the candidate was asked about his views on several policy issues. He was thoughtful, open, and willing to explain his beliefs. But then he added a caveat that should concern every voter: once elected, he said, he would be obligated to vote however the majority of his district wanted—regardless of whether it conflicted with his own judgment or principles.

This may sound democratic, even virtuous. In reality, it reflects a fundamental misunderstanding of what it means to serve in a representative republic.

In our system, citizens do not elect legislators to function as human polling machines. They elect representatives to exercise judgment on their behalf within the constraints of a constitution. Those representatives are accountable to voters at election time, but while in office they are sworn to uphold the constitution, respect limits on government power, and protect individual rights—even when doing so is unpopular.

The idea that an elected official must always follow the immediate will of the majority is closer to direct democracy than representative government. History shows why that distinction matters. Majorities are not infallible. They can be misinformed, driven by fear, or motivated by short-term passions. Without restraint, majority rule easily becomes majority tyranny.

If a legislator believes he must vote for any policy his district demands, then constitutional protections become optional. Free speech, due process, property rights, and equal protection all become subject to popular vote. That is precisely what constitutions exist to prevent. Rights are not supposed to hinge on whether they are fashionable or politically convenient.

This mindset also creates a convenient escape hatch for politicians. “My hands were tied,” they say. “My district made me do it.” In practice, this often becomes a way to justify voting against principles they claim to hold, while avoiding responsibility for the consequences. Leadership is replaced with blame-shifting, and conviction gives way to convenience.

True representation requires more courage than that. It means listening to constituents, understanding their concerns, and taking them seriously—but not surrendering independent judgment. It means explaining difficult votes, defending unpopular positions, and trusting voters to decide whether that judgment deserves another term. Accountability comes at the ballot box, not through daily referendums.

The Founders understood this well. They designed a system meant to slow down rash decisions, elevate deliberation, and protect liberty from both authoritarian rulers and unchecked majorities. A legislator who does not understand this role—or worse, openly rejects it—poses a real risk to constitutional government.

Voters should be wary of candidates who promise to “just vote how the district wants.” That promise may feel empowering, but it ultimately weakens the very safeguards that protect minority rights, economic stability, and the rule of law. We should expect more from those who seek office—not blind obedience to opinion polls, but informed judgment grounded in principle and constitutional restraint.

A representative republic depends not just on good laws, but on legislators who understand why those laws exist—and who are willing to uphold them, even when it’s hard.

Americans are often told they live in a democracy. The word is used as a synonym for freedom, fairness, and self-government. But strictly speaking, the United States was never designed to be a pure democracy. It is a representative republic, and that distinction is not semantic trivia. It is the foundation of why the system has endured.

In a true democracy, citizens vote directly on laws and policies. Every issue is decided by majority rule. While this may sound ideal in theory, it comes with a serious flaw: the majority is not restrained. If 51 percent of voters want something, they get it, even if it violates individual rights, harms minorities, or creates long-term instability.

A representative republic works differently. Citizens elect representatives to make laws on their behalf, within a framework constrained by a constitution. Those representatives are accountable to voters, but they are also bound by limits on government power, separation of powers, and protections for individual rights. The goal is not just to reflect public opinion, but to filter it through deliberation, law, and constitutional restraint.

The Founders understood the danger of unchecked majority rule. James Madison warned that democracies “have ever been spectacles of turbulence and contention” and were often short-lived. History backs him up. Pure democracies are vulnerable to emotional swings, demagogues, and policies driven by passion rather than principle. When decisions are made by immediate popular vote, there is little incentive to consider long-term consequences or the rights of those who disagree.

One major problem with a true democracy is the risk of majority tyranny. If the majority can vote itself benefits at the expense of others, higher taxes on a minority group, restrictions on unpopular speech, or confiscation of property, there is no built-in safeguard to stop it. A representative republic, by contrast, places certain rights beyond the reach of a simple majority. Free speech, due process, property rights, and equal protection are not supposed to be up for a vote.

Another problem is instability. Constant direct voting on complex issues leads to rapid policy swings and shallow decision-making. Most citizens do not have the time or resources to deeply study every issue of governance. Electing representatives allows voters to choose people whose job is to specialize, deliberate, and negotiate, while still being removable if they fail.

A representative republic also slows down bad ideas. That is not a bug; it is a feature. Requiring legislation to pass through multiple bodies, survive debate, and comply with constitutional limits prevents momentary outrage or fear from becoming permanent law.

Calling America a democracy may be politically convenient, but it misses the point. The country’s strength lies not in raw majority rule, but in a system designed to balance popular consent with liberty, stability, and restraint. A representative republic recognizes a hard truth: the purpose of government is not merely to do what the majority wants today, but to protect freedom for everyone tomorrow.

Mississippi lawmakers are debating two different versions of House Bill 1665, legislation that would significantly change how pharmacy benefit managers (PBMs) are regulated in the state. While both versions aim to modify the Pharmacy Benefit Prompt Pay Act and address long-standing complaints from pharmacies about PBM practices, the House and Senate approaches differ in important ways.

At its core, HB 1665 reflects a broader national debate over the role of Pharmacy Benefit Managers (PBMs) in the pharmaceutical marketplace. PBMs act as intermediaries between insurance companies, drug manufacturers, and pharmacies, negotiating prices and administering prescription drug benefits. Supporters argue that PBMs use their scale to secure lower drug prices, while critics contend that their reimbursement practices and opaque pricing structures place independent pharmacies at a disadvantage. But this debate often misses the larger point. The modern pharmaceutical market is already one of the most heavily regulated sectors of the American economy, shaped by layers of federal and state mandates, insurance regulations, and government distortions. Conservatives should be skeptical of proposals that attempt to correct market distortions with even more government intervention. History shows that when government tries to manage complex markets, it rarely solves the underlying problem and often creates new ones. Real reform should focus on removing the policies that distort the marketplace and restoring transparent competition, rather than expanding government control over how private actors negotiate prices and conduct business.

The two versions of HB 1665 approach these concerns with different regulatory structures.

The Major Structural Difference: Who Regulates PBMs

The most significant change in the House-passed version of HB 1665 is a shift in regulatory authority. The bill moves oversight of PBMs away from the Mississippi Board of Pharmacy and places it under the Mississippi Commissioner of Insurance.

This change would centralize PBM regulation within the Department of Insurance and would also create a special fund in the state treasury to support enforcement and oversight.

The Senate substitute, by contrast, keeps more of the existing regulatory structure intact. While it still modifies several rules governing PBMs, it retains a larger role for the Board of Pharmacy and avoids the same level of structural reorganization.

House Version vs. Senate Substitute: Key Differences

HOUSE VERSION (HB1665PS)

Major Structural Change

• Transfers oversight of Pharmacy Benefit Managers (PBMs) to the Mississippi Commissioner of Insurance

Regulatory Expansion

• Expands the authority of the Department of Insurance to regulate PBMs and related organizations

Pricing Mechanisms

• Eliminates Maximum Allowable Cost (MAC) lists, a pricing tool PBMs use to determine reimbursement rates

Pharmacy Reimbursement

• Revises reimbursement rules and administrative procedures governing PBM payments to pharmacies

Claim Denials

• Requires PBMs to provide written explanations for claim denials within seven days

Appeals Process

• Expands the administrative process pharmacies can use to challenge reimbursement decisions

Licensing Requirements

• Requires Pharmacy Services Administrative Organizations (PSAOs) to be licensed by the Insurance Commissioner

Regulatory Funding

• Creates a special fund in the state treasury to support enforcement and oversight

SENATE SUBSTITUTE VERSION

Regulatory Structure

• Keeps more of the existing regulatory framework in place

Board of Pharmacy Role

• Maintains a larger role for the Mississippi Board of Pharmacy in the regulatory process

PBM Oversight

• Adjusts regulatory requirements but avoids a major shift in agency authority

Pricing Mechanisms

• Retains or modifies MAC pricing lists rather than eliminating them

Pharmacy Reimbursement

• Makes procedural changes but does not significantly restructure reimbursement rules

Claim Denials

• Maintains requirements for PBMs to provide explanations for denied claims, with modified language

Appeals Process

• Keeps an appeals process for pharmacies but with less expansion of administrative procedures

Licensing

• Maintains licensing requirements but with continued involvement of the Board of Pharmacy

Regulatory Funding

• Scales back or restructures the regulatory funding approach compared to the House version

What the Bill Is Trying to Fix

HB 1665 is largely driven by complaints from independent pharmacies that PBMs use reimbursement formulas and pricing practices that make it difficult for small pharmacies to remain profitable.

Pharmacists often point to several specific concerns:

• reimbursement rates below the pharmacy’s acquisition cost

• delays or denials in payment

• opaque pricing formulas such as maximum allowable cost lists

• limited transparency in PBM reimbursement decisions

Supporters of the bill argue stronger oversight is needed to ensure fair treatment of pharmacies and improve transparency in the drug pricing system.

The Policy Debate Behind the Bill

The differences between the House and Senate versions reflect a broader policy question: how much government regulation should exist in the PBM market.

Supporters of stronger regulation argue that PBMs have grown into powerful intermediaries operating with limited transparency. From this perspective, state oversight is necessary to protect independent pharmacies and ensure consumers are not harmed by opaque pricing practices.

But many conservatives view the issue differently. Heavy-handed regulation can distort private contracts between PBMs, insurers, and pharmacies, potentially undermining the very price negotiations that help control drug costs. When government dictates how private actors must structure reimbursements or pricing arrangements, it risks replacing market competition with political decision-making.

This debate is not unique to Mississippi. Legislatures across the country are considering similar PBM reform proposals, with states pursuing widely different approaches ranging from modest transparency requirements to strict government control over pricing and reimbursement formulas.

As is often the case, however, policymakers are tempted by the promise of a quick political fix. More regulation allows politicians to present themselves as the heroes solving a problem. The reality is far less simple. When government responds to market distortions by layering on additional mandates and controls, it rarely solves the underlying problem. More often, it creates new distortions, higher costs, and unintended consequences that lawmakers must later attempt to fix again.

What Happens Next

The fate of HB 1665 will ultimately depend on whether lawmakers can reconcile the structural differences between the House and Senate versions. Several key policy questions will likely shape those negotiations:

• Which state agency should be responsible for regulating PBMs

• Whether pricing tools such as Maximum Allowable Cost (MAC) lists should remain available

• How extensive the state’s administrative oversight of PBMs should be

The answers to these questions will determine whether Mississippi adopts a more aggressive regulatory framework or settles on a narrower set of reforms.

But one reality of government policymaking rarely changes. When politicians position themselves as the winners of a new regulatory scheme, the public ends up bearing the cost—through higher prices, reduced competition, or fewer choices in the marketplace.

Tennessee’s weapons laws still contain “gotcha” provisions that can turn peaceful, law-abiding adults into criminals based on vague standards or long-past mistakes. Rep. Monty Fritts’ two bills—HB1737 and HB2514—offer an overdue course correction grounded in a simple principle: if the government believes someone is too dangerous to exercise a constitutional right, it should have to say so plainly and prove it—rather than relying on vague offenses and blanket disabilities that ensnare peaceful citizens.

When is the vote?

Both bills have been placed on the House Criminal Justice Subcommittee calendar for Wednesday, March 4, 2026 (9:00 AM, House Hearing Room II).
They are Items 23 (HB1737) and 24 (HB2514) on that calendar.
The calendar runs through Item 51, so it is genuinely hard to predict whether the subcommittee will reach them that day.

Even so, this is the moment to contact members—because bills can move quickly when time opens up, calendars shift, or leadership decides to prioritize an item.

What HB2514 does: end the “intent to go armed” trap for ordinary carry

Today, Tennessee’s broad “intent to go armed” concept has operated like a legal minefield: peaceful carry can be treated as a crime based on subjective interpretation rather than any threatening act. HB2514 deletes the general offense of carrying a firearm (or club) with “intent to go armed,” and refocuses enforcement on clear, defined places and genuinely risky conduct.

Importantly, it does not create a free-for-all. It keeps restrictions where they make the most sense—such as K-12 school buildings and school buses (with specific posting/conditions) and it rewrites the “under the influence” handgun offense to target impairment and risk rather than mere peaceful possession.

In short: stop criminalizing normal, peaceable carry; keep the law focused on sensitive locations and dangerous behavior.

What HB1737 does: restore rights after debts are paid and childhood mistakes are outgrown

HB1737 addresses a different—but equally important—civil liberties problem: status-based firearm restrictions that punish people today for past wrongdoing long after they have served their sentence or rehabilitated.

HB1737:

• Removes an added “intent to go armed” firearm offense that applies to people with certain prior convictions (examples listed in the bill summary include stalking and DUI in certain circumstances).

• Eliminates a special gun disability for adults under 25 based on certain juvenile delinquency adjudications—so a mistake at 15 doesn’t automatically mean reduced rights at 24 after years of clean living.

• Lifts broad restrictions on carrying in public parks and recreational areas, allowing law-abiding Tennesseans to protect themselves while hiking, jogging, or at a family picnic.

This is the core limited-government point: laws that target status instead of conduct don’t stop violent criminals; they mainly create technical “process crimes” for people who are otherwise peaceable. Tennessee can punish threats, assault, intimidation, and reckless endangerment without treating ordinary citizens as presumptive criminals.

Why these bills matter for limited government and civil liberties

Together, HB1737 and HB2514 move Tennessee law toward a clearer, more constitutional standard:

• Replace vague, discretionary enforcement with objective rules.

• Reduce victimless, technical offenses that depend on an officer’s guess about “intent.”

• Judge people by conduct—especially present conduct—not permanent suspicion.

• Keep targeted protections for truly sensitive places and truly risky behavior.

If you live in Tennessee this is who you contact: House Criminal Justice Subcommittee

These are the members who may vote if the bills are heard.

Rep. Fred Atchley (R-12) – (615) 741-5981
Rep. Andrew Farmer (R-17) – (615) 741-4419
Rep. William Lamberth (R-44) – (615) 741-1980
Rep. Mary Littleton (R-78) – (615) 741-7477
Rep. Jason Powell (D-53) – (615) 741-6861
Rep. Lowell Russell (R-21) – (615) 741-3736
Rep. Gabby Salinas (D-96) – (615) 741-1920
Rep. Rick Scarbrough (R-33) – (615) 741-4400

(Official roster listed by the General Assembly is here.)

Most Mississippians agree on this: every child’s life is precious, and every preventable infant death is a tragedy. But good intentions are not a blank check for government power. With House Bill 1637, the Mississippi Legislature is quietly asking us to trade away privacy and transparency in the name of “review.”

HB 1637 would create a new Fetal and Infant Mortality Review Panel inside state government. On the surface, that sounds reasonable. Who wouldn’t want to understand why babies die and how to prevent it?

The trouble lies in how this panel would operate. The bill gives it sweeping authority to dig into deeply personal medical information and government records, while shielding its own work from public view.

In plain English, here’s what HB 1637 does:

• Creates a state panel with broad power to obtain confidential medical records and data from hospitals, clinics, and multiple state and local agencies.

• Allows the panel to compel agencies to hand over information, backed by state enforcement power.

• Exempts the panel’s meetings and records from Mississippi’s Open Meetings Act and Public Records Act, meaning citizens and the press are locked out.

That combination should alarm anyone who cares about civil liberties, whether you lean left, right, or somewhere in between.

Imagine you’re a young mother who suffered a heartbreaking stillbirth or lost a newborn in the NICU. Under HB 1637, a government panel could access your medical records, related agency files, and sensitive information about your family. You might never know who saw it, what they concluded, or how it might be used—because the panel’s work would be hidden behind closed doors.

Or imagine a rural doctor already struggling to keep a small practice afloat. The panel could demand extensive records and data, with little recourse if the doctor believes the request is overbroad or intrusive. Complying takes time, money, and staff—resources pulled away from patient care, under threat of state enforcement.

Supporters say confidentiality is necessary to encourage honest review. But Mississippi already has laws that protect patient privacy and shield certain quality-improvement processes, while still respecting open meetings and public records requirements. HB 1637 goes much further: it builds a black box inside government, fueled by our most private information and answerable to almost no one.

When government gains the power to see more, the people should gain the power to see more, too. This bill flips that principle on its head. It expands state access and coercive authority while shrinking public oversight.

If we truly want to reduce infant mortality, we should invest in proven, transparent solutions: better prenatal care, community health outreach, support for high-risk mothers, and data sharing governed by clear privacy safeguards and public accountability—not a secretive panel armed with your medical records.

Mississippi can pursue compassionate, evidence-based policies without undermining core civil liberties. Legislators should reject HB 1637 or, at minimum, go back to the drawing board with strict limits on data access, strong privacy protections, and full transparency to the people.

Contact your state representative and senator today. Tell them you support protecting babies—and you also support protecting privacy and open government. Ask them to vote NO on HB 1637.

Tennessee’s SB2040, the FAIR Rx Act, is built on a real frustration. Pharmacy Benefit Managers (PBMs) have become powerful middlemen in a system that no longer seems to serve patients. Vertical integration between PBMs, insurers, pharmacies, and even drug manufacturers has created clear conflicts of interest. Rebates, formulary manipulation, and steering practices leave many consumers wondering whether anyone in the chain truly prioritizes affordability or transparency.

That frustration is justified.

But SB2040 represents the wrong solution to a problem government helped create in the first place.

The proper role of government is to protect life, liberty, and property—not to dictate how businesses structure themselves. Government’s responsibility is to enforce contracts, punish fraud, and ensure equal treatment under the law. It should not be in the business of deciding who may own what type of company or micromanaging private corporate arrangements.

SB2040 bans PBMs from owning or controlling pharmacies. It expands the regulatory authority of the Tennessee Board of Pharmacy, creates broad disclosure requirements, authorizes daily civil penalties, and mandates operational changes. While the bill is framed as protecting patients and rural pharmacies, it ultimately increases government control over private enterprise.

History tells us where that road leads.

When government inserts itself into business decisions, compliance costs rise. Administrative burdens multiply. Legal risk increases. Smaller operators struggle to keep up. Prices rise—not because of free markets—but because regulation adds friction and uncertainty. Choices shrink as consolidation becomes a defensive response to regulatory complexity.

We should also be honest about something else: politicians rarely act without political incentives. Expecting a group of elected officials and regulators to solve a problem born of lobbying, corporate favoritism, and federal distortions is wishful thinking. Healthcare was “fixed” once before with sweeping federal intervention. The Affordable Care Act was sold as the solution to rising costs and access problems. Instead, premiums increased, networks narrowed, and consumer choice declined.

The PBM model originally emerged to help employers negotiate better drug prices for employees. Over time, however, the system became entangled with federal insurance mandates, third-party payment distortions, opaque rebate structures, and regulatory capture. The result is a bloated, complex arrangement where incentives are misaligned and the patient often comes last.

But that does not justify expanding state power.

If the system is distorted, the solution is not more distortion layered on top. The answer is greater transparency, freer contracting, removal of barriers to entry, and allowing true competition to discipline bad actors. When government picks winners and losers—even in the name of reform—it often entrenches the very forces it claims to restrain.

There is a solution to the PBM problem. It lies in restoring market discipline, eliminating regulatory favoritism, and re-centering healthcare around patients and voluntary exchange—not in empowering boards and agencies to dictate corporate ownership structures.

Good intentions are not enough. Tennessee should resist the temptation to fight centralized corporate power with centralized government power. One concentration of authority does not cure another.

In Mississippi today, more people than ever are earning a living outside the traditional 9-to-5 job. From electricians and truckers to freelance nurses, software developers, hairstylists, and Uber drivers, independent contracting is no longer a side hustle—it’s a core part of our economy.

Yet our laws haven’t kept up. Benefits like health coverage, disability insurance, and retirement savings are still built around the old model of a single employer and a single job. That leaves independent contractors with a harsh choice: either stick with rigid employment structures or forgo the benefits that help families weather hard times.

House Bill 1072, the Voluntary Portable Benefit Plan Act, offers a better path—one that respects freedom, encourages work, and keeps government in its proper lane.

Here’s what the bill does, in plain language.

HB 1072 allows companies that hire independent contractors to voluntarily put money into special “portable benefit” accounts for those workers. These benefits are “portable” because they follow the worker, not the company. If a contractor works for three different hiring parties, each can contribute to the same benefit account.

The contributions are tax-deductible for the business, just like benefit expenses for regular employees. For the independent contractor, that money does not count as taxable income. In other words, both sides get a tax-neutral way to arrange benefits, without creating a new government program or changing anyone’s employment status.

No one is forced to participate. Businesses don’t have to offer contributions. Contractors don’t have to accept them. There are no mandates, no new entitlements, and no bureaucratic benefits scheme run out of Jackson or Washington. HB 1072 simply gets government out of the way so private parties can make voluntary arrangements that fit their needs.

That matters for liberty.

First, HB 1072 protects freedom of contract. Right now, many businesses are afraid to help independent contractors with benefits because they worry it will be used against them in court as “proof” the worker is really an employee. This bill gives them a safe, clear path to help without triggering a legal trap. It respects adults’ right to make their own agreements.

Second, it avoids the heavy-handed approach we’ve seen in other states, where lawmakers try to “solve” the gig economy by forcing companies to reclassify contractors as employees. Those efforts destroy flexibility, reduce opportunities, and push people into one-size-fits-all arrangements. HB 1072 does the opposite: it preserves choice while expanding options.

Consider a single mom who pieces together income by driving for a rideshare service, delivering groceries, and doing bookkeeping from home. Under HB 1072, each hiring party could voluntarily contribute small amounts to her portable benefit account. Over time, she could build a cushion for health expenses or lost income if she’s hurt and can’t work. No bureaucracy. No mandate. Just people cooperating on mutually beneficial terms.

This is what limited, constitutional government looks like: setting fair tax rules, protecting rights, and then stepping back so free people and free markets can innovate.

Mississippi should welcome new ways to work and earn a living without punishing those who don’t fit an old model. HB 1072 keeps benefits decisions where they belong—between individuals and the organizations they choose to work with.

Lawmakers should pass HB 1072, and citizens who value work, choice, and personal responsibility should urge them to do so. This is a chance to modernize our laws without growing government—and we shouldn’t let it pass us by.

Election Day is not where election integrity starts. It starts weeks and months earlier, at the point of registration. If the voter rolls are sloppy, everything downstream gets ugly: lawsuits, distrust, “my side cheated” accusations, and a steady drip of cynicism that poisons self government.

That is why the SAVE Act effort matters. In plain English, it says: if you are registering to vote in federal elections, you prove you are a U.S. citizen. No more “check the box and trust me” as the main gatekeeper. The bill would amend the federal registration framework so states do not accept a federal election registration unless the applicant provides documentary proof of citizenship.

Supporters are right about the principle. Citizenship is the bright line for federal voting. If a country cannot enforce who is eligible to participate, it cannot honestly claim to be governed by its own people. The point is not to accuse your neighbor. The point is to remove incentives for bad behavior and to make the rules real, not theoretical. Even critics generally concede that non citizens voting in federal elections is already illegal, but this debate exists because “illegal” is not the same thing as “impossible.”

The bill’s mechanics are straightforward but significant. It ties the citizenship check into the places where registration happens, including the motor vehicle office, and it tightens the federal mail registration form rules. It also leans on cross checking tools, including comparisons through the Department of Homeland Security’s SAVE system to help states identify non citizens on the rolls, with notice and an opportunity to respond.

Here is the honest tradeoff: this is a bigger compliance lift for states and it adds friction for some lawful citizens. That friction is not imaginary. People change names. Older records are messy. Some folks do not have a passport sitting in a drawer. The bill text tries to address part of that reality by requiring a process for name discrepancies and by allowing states to create an alternative path for applicants who cannot produce standard documentary proof, with an attestation under penalty of perjury and a documented determination by officials. Those safeguards are essential, because the goal is to block illegal registration, not to trap legitimate voters in a paperwork maze.

So where is it right now?

An earlier version, H.R. 22, passed the House on April 10, 2025 (220 to 208) and was received in the Senate the same day. More recently, on February 11, 2026, the House passed an updated “SAVE America Act” style package by 218 to 213 and sent it to the Senate. In procedural terms, the current vehicle in the Senate is S. 1383, which the House amended by swapping in the SAVE language; the Senate received the House message on February 12, 2026.

Next steps are simple but politically hard. The Senate must take it up and either concur with the House amendment or amend it again. If the Senate amends, it goes back to the House. If both chambers pass the same text, it goes to Donald Trump to sign or veto. And because the Senate runs on the filibuster for most big fights, supporters likely need 60 votes to move it.

If Congress wants this to be a win for integrity instead of a bureaucratic bludgeon, the implementation needs to be practical: broad acceptance of common documents, clean handling for name changes, accessible verification options, and clear notice and cure procedures. Get those guardrails right, and the country gets something we badly need: election results that more Americans can trust, without turning voting into a scavenger hunt.

Imagine doing everything right in a terrifying moment—calling 911, staying on the scene, cooperating with officers—only to find yourself in handcuffs, your gun seized, your name dragged through the mud, and your savings drained just to prove you were defending your own life or home.

That’s the reality too many Tennesseans face today. HB2514 / SB2478 is designed to change that.

This bill does something simple but profound: it treats self‑defense as a right, not a technicality. It strengthens due‑process protections for those who use lawful defensive force, narrows when peaceful firearm carry can be criminalized, and reins in government entities that want to disarm law‑abiding citizens without providing real security.

First, HB2514 builds a true self‑defense immunity process. If a person reasonably uses force to protect themselves or others, they should not be punished by the process itself. The bill requires that evidence be preserved, that police and prosecutors actually consider justification before charging, and that a judge hold a pretrial hearing to decide immunity. At that hearing, the state—not the citizen—must prove by clear and convincing evidence that the force was not justified.

If the court finds the person acted in lawful self‑defense, the case is over. Even better, the state must pay the defendant’s legal fees and related costs. That means prosecutors think twice before dragging a homeowner or Good Samaritan through months or years of litigation for doing what any of us would hope to do in an emergency: survive.

Second, the bill clarifies what “intent to go armed” means. Under current law, simply having a firearm in the wrong place can turn a peaceable person into a criminal, even with no ill intent. HB2514 tightens that definition so criminal liability hinges on premeditated intent to commit a serious crime—not on mere possession or an honest mistake, like forgetting a handgun locked in a vehicle while entering a posted area.

Third, it tackles the patchwork of so‑called “gun‑free zones” that disarm the rule‑followers while doing little to stop those with bad intentions. The bill allows adults who are not otherwise prohibited to carry on college campuses, in state and local parks, and on many public recreational properties. Schools can still set their own policies, but criminal penalties now depend on clear, standardized signage. They may also choose to post that armed personnel could be present—without turning every responsible carrier into a criminal.

Crucially, local governments may no longer ban permitted carry on their property unless they provide real security: staffed metal detectors and screening at entrances. If a city wants to strip citizens of the means to protect themselves, it must shoulder the cost of protecting them instead of outsourcing the risk to families and small businesses.

HB2514 doesn’t expand government or raise taxes. It rolls back overcriminalization, respects property rights, and restores the presumption that Tennesseans are law‑abiding unless proven otherwise.

Legislators should pass HB2514 / SB2478, and citizens should urge them to do so. Self‑defense is a fundamental right. Our laws should finally treat it that way.

As a Mississippian watching what Oklahoma is doing with SB463, I cannot help but ask: why do we not have this kind of commonsense reform here at home?

For many Mississippians, the phrase “firearm suppressor” still brings to mind Hollywood myths about silent assassins and spy thrillers. In reality, suppressors are nothing like that. They are safety devices—more like ear protection for your firearm than anything out of a movie. That is why Oklahoma’s Sportsman Hearing Protection Act is such a smart move, and why Mississippi should follow suit.

SB463 does something simple and practical: it clearly defines how firearm suppressors can be lawfully manufactured in Oklahoma under state law. It provides a straightforward legal framework so that law-abiding citizens and local businesses understand the rules, can comply with them, and can operate without fear of vague or arbitrary interference. It even carries an emergency designation, recognizing that protecting constitutional rights and supporting lawful enterprise should not be delayed.

In plain terms, suppressors do not make guns “silent.” They reduce the sharp, damaging blast of a firearm to a safer level—less likely to cause permanent hearing loss and less disruptive to neighbors, livestock, and rural communities. Here in Mississippi, hunters, farmers, and landowners know exactly what that blast can do. Many have skipped ear protection in order to hear approaching game or communicate in the field, only to deal later with ringing ears and irreversible hearing damage.

Why should the law treat basic safety equipment as something sinister?

By clarifying lawful suppressor manufacturing, Oklahoma is advancing two principles Mississippi ought to embrace.

First, it affirms that responsible adults have the right to choose safe, lawful equipment for their firearms. The Second Amendment is not just about owning a firearm in theory—it is about being able to use it responsibly for hunting, sport shooting, self-defense, and protecting property. When government layers on confusing, overlapping restrictions around a simple safety device, it burdens that practical right. Oklahoma’s bill recognizes suppressors for what they are: legitimate tools for responsible gun owners, not an excuse for more red tape.

Second, it supports local industry and economic freedom. Mississippi is home to skilled machinists, manufacturers, and small businesses that could compete in this space. But unclear or overly restrictive laws discourage investment and innovation. By setting clear guardrails, Oklahoma is giving its entrepreneurs confidence to build, hire, and grow within the state. That is how limited government and free enterprise are supposed to work: establish reasonable boundaries and then get out of the way.

Critics often assume that anything related to firearms automatically increases danger. The facts do not bear that out. Suppressors do not make firearms more lethal; they simply reduce noise and protect hearing. In many countries with far stricter gun laws than ours, suppressors are treated as ordinary safety equipment and even as a courtesy to neighbors.

At its core, Oklahoma’s approach is about trusting law-abiding citizens more than bureaucracies. It protects constitutional rights, encourages small-business growth, and keeps government focused where it belongs—on punishing crime rather than regulating responsible conduct.

Mississippi lawmakers should take note. We value our hunting heritage, our rural way of life, and our constitutional freedoms. A clear, pro-safety, pro-business framework for suppressors would reflect those values. Protecting both liberty and hearing should not be controversial—it is simply common sense for Mississippi.

This bill proposes a Mississippi constitutional amendment to let voters propose, amend, or repeal state statutes by citizen initiative and approve or reject them at the ballot, subject to procedural and subject-matter limits.

Bill basics

• Vehicle: Senate Concurrent Resolution (constitutional amendment)

• Election date: November 2026 general election

• Committees/Referral: Elections

• What it changes: Amends Sections 33, 56, 61, and 72 of the MS Constitution to create an initiative process for statutes (not constitutional provisions).

Key provisions

• Creates initiative power for statutes: People can propose new laws or amend/repeal existing laws by petition and election, independent of the Legislature.

• Limits what initiatives can do: No initiatives for:

  • Constitutional amendments (must go through the constitutional process)

  • PERS laws

  • Local or special laws

  • Subjects the Constitution bars the Legislature from enacting

  • Measures that “deprive” a human being (as defined in statute) of the right to life

• Ballot access rules:

  • Signatures equal to 10% of active registered voters collected over 12 months

  • 33-1/3% cap from any single congressional district

  • SOS decides sufficiency, with MS Supreme Court original/exclusive jurisdiction for challenges

• Fiscal guardrails: Sponsors must identify revenue sources; if substantial cost/expenditure, must provide a funding mechanism; cannot redirect funds from one agency to another; cannot require deficit spending.

• Voting thresholds:

  • Generally: majority approval and at least 40% of total votes cast in that election

  • If “substantial cost” initiative: majority approval and at least 60% of total votes cast

• Legislative involvement option: Legislature may adopt or amend; if amended, voters see both versions.

• Governor: Initiatives are not subject to gubernatorial veto and do not require signature.

• Two-year lock: No substantive legislative amendment/repeal for 2 years, unless extenuating circumstances and 3/5 vote of each chamber.

Liberty analysis

Pros (liberty-aligned)

• Checks the political class: Creates a direct mechanism for citizens to override entrenched interests and legislative inaction, consistent with a decentralizing, anti-cartel view of government power.

• Built-in fiscal restraint features: Requiring funding identification, restricting deficit spending, and higher thresholds for costly measures reduces the risk of pure “ballot-box budgeting.”

• Statutory-only initiative: Keeping constitutional amendments off-limits prevents frequent, shifting constitutional policy via campaigns.

Cons (liberty risks)

• Majoritarian risk: Initiatives can still be used to expand government, regulate, or tax through emotional campaigns and low-information elections.

• Process restrictions: The in-state residency requirement for petition circulators and the cap by congressional district can be viewed as participation constraints (even if justified as anti-fraud measures).

• Two-year lock-in: Can entrench bad policy temporarily if a poorly drafted initiative passes.

Recommendation

Support

Most Mississippians expect Republicans to fight taxes—especially federal taxes. So it should come as no surprise that people are scratching their heads when a self-described “Republican” senator in Jackson is doing the exact opposite: asking Washington, D.C. to tax us more.

That is precisely what MS SR6 does, and it is indefensible for anyone who claims to believe in limited government, free markets, or conservative principles.

MS SR6 is not harmless. It is a formal request from Mississippi lawmakers urging Congress to impose a new federal excise tax on airguns and airbows by rolling them into the Pittman-Robertson Act. That 1937 law already taxes firearms and ammunition. Now, instead of pushing back against federal overreach, this resolution invites it—cheerleading for Washington to expand its tax authority yet again.

Let’s be clear: no one in Jackson was elected to lobby for higher federal taxes.

Supporters hide behind the usual talking points: “It’s for conservation” and “It’s only a small tax.” But Republicans are supposed to know better. Every tax starts small. Every expansion is “reasonable.” And every time government reaches for a new revenue stream, it rarely lets go.

Airguns and airbows are not traditional firearms. They are affordable, low-noise, low-recoil tools used by families, young shooters, retirees, and disabled hunters. They are often the entry point into shooting sports for kids and beginners. They are also a growing area of American innovation, supported largely by small manufacturers and local retailers—not corporate giants who can easily absorb new compliance costs.

MS SR6 would make those products more expensive overnight.

Higher prices mean fewer families buying starter equipment, fewer youth programs able to participate, and fewer adaptive options for hunters who rely on air-powered alternatives. Small businesses take the hit first. Innovation slows. Choice disappears. And for what? So Mississippi politicians can help Congress find a new excuse to take more money from Mississippians’ pockets?

If a Democrat proposed this, at least it would be ideologically honest. But when a Republican does it, voters are right to ask: whose side are you on?

Conservation does not require expanding federal taxation. Mississippians already support wildlife and habitat through licenses, private donations, land stewardship, and voluntary conservation groups. That approach respects freedom. A federal tax assumes government knows better than citizens how their money should be spent—and that is not a conservative principle.

Even worse, MS SR6 sets a dangerous precedent. Once lawmakers decide every new or growing product category should be taxed “for a good cause,” there is no limiting principle left. Today it’s airguns and airbows. Tomorrow it’s something else. That is how limited government quietly dies—not with one massive tax hike, but with a series of “modest” expansions nobody was supposed to notice.

Mississippi does not need to beg Washington for more power, more money, or more control. And Republicans certainly should not be leading that charge.

If your state senator claims to be a Republican but supports MS SR6, call them out—respectfully but firmly. Tell them conservatives do not ask for new federal taxes. Tell them conservation does not require surrendering principles. And tell them Mississippi deserves representation that actually acts like it believes in limited government, not just campaigns on it.

Mississippi’s alcohol laws are some of the most restrictive in the country, built around a control-state model that assumes government gatekeeping is the only way to manage commerce. For decades, this system has limited consumer choice, insulated entrenched distributors from competition, and treated adults as incapable of making lawful purchasing decisions without state intermediation. House Bill 669 does not dismantle that system—but it meaningfully improves it.

At its core, HB 669 authorizes something Mississippi currently prohibits: the direct sale and shipment of distilled spirits to adult residents. Under existing law, consumers who wish to purchase spirits are effectively forced into a narrow, state-controlled distribution channel. Producers—especially small or specialty distillers—are locked out of reaching Mississippi customers unless they navigate an expensive and highly restricted distributor network. HB 669 opens a new channel for voluntary exchange where none previously existed.

That matters.

Direct-to-consumer shipping expands choice, competition, and access. It allows Mississippians to purchase specialty or limited-run spirits that may never appear on local shelves. It enables small producers to reach customers without surrendering control of their product to a cartelized distribution system. And it treats adults like adults—capable of choosing what to buy and from whom.

Critics argue that HB 669 imposes taxes, permits, and reporting requirements, and that is true. But this critique misses the baseline reality: Mississippi already taxes and regulates alcohol heavily. The bill does not raise general alcohol tax rates or impose new taxes on existing transactions. Instead, it applies Mississippi’s existing tax framework to a newly authorized activity. That is not a tax increase—it is the cost of participation in a market that the state previously forbade altogether.

The relevant question is not whether the bill is perfectly free-market. It is not. The real question is whether HB 669 improves liberty compared to the status quo. On that measure, the answer is clearly yes.

Importantly, HB 669 does not mandate participation. No one is required to ship, sell, or purchase spirits directly. The bill simply allows willing buyers and sellers to transact under defined rules. That voluntary expansion of lawful commerce is a net gain for economic freedom, even if it occurs within a regulatory environment that remains too restrictive.

The bill is also notable for what it does not do. It does not expand the state’s monopoly over alcohol sales. It does not create a new government-run program. And it does not prohibit existing retailers or distributors from continuing their business. Instead, it introduces competition into a system that has long been closed.

HB 669 is not the end of reform—and it should not be treated as such. Mississippi should continue working toward a simpler, more open alcohol market that reduces protectionism and unnecessary bureaucracy. But progress rarely comes all at once. Sometimes it comes through incremental steps that loosen control and expand choice.

HB 669 is one of those steps. In a state where the default has long been prohibition by regulation, allowing direct-to-consumer spirits shipping is a meaningful improvement—and one worth supporting.

When most Mississippians think about taxes, they picture April 15 or the total at the cash register. But for the farmers and loggers who keep our state’s economy moving, taxes show up in a quieter, more punishing way—tacked onto the very tools they need to do their jobs.

That’s why MS SB2272 deserves broad support. It’s a modest, targeted step that would make a real difference for the people who put food on our tables and support our rural communities.

In plain terms, SB2272 exempts certain agricultural and logging items from Mississippi’s 1.5% state sales tax when purchased by commercial farmers and loggers. This isn’t a giveaway or a special-interest loophole. It’s a recognition that a farmer’s fencing and lime are not luxuries; they are essential business inputs, as fundamental to production as nails are to a carpenter.

The bill specifically includes items like livestock fencing materials and agricultural lime—things every working farmer understands as unavoidable, recurring costs. A cattle producer replacing worn-out fencing on several hundred acres can easily spend tens of thousands of dollars. Even a seemingly small 1.5% tax quickly adds up to money that could have gone toward feed, fuel, or payroll. A row-crop farmer applying lime to correct soil acidity faces the same squeeze: pay the tax, or cut corners and see yields suffer.

By lifting this tax burden, SB2272 lets commercial producers keep more of their own money—money they earned, money they will reinvest in their businesses and communities. That is economic freedom in practice, not theory.

Importantly, the bill does this while still respecting accountability. The exemption is not a blank check. It’s tied to a permit process to ensure that only bona fide commercial farmers and loggers qualify. That means the tax relief is focused where it belongs: on those whose livelihood depends on agriculture and forestry, not on hobby farms or casual purchases.

From a liberty perspective, SB2272 is a small but meaningful step toward limited government. Every tax is, at its core, the state claiming a slice of private property. Policymakers should be especially cautious about taxing the basic means of production that allow people to earn an honest living. If we say we value work, entrepreneurship, and self-reliance, our tax code should reflect that.

This bill also respects the free market. It doesn’t create a new subsidy or program; it simply removes a state-imposed cost that distorts business decisions. Farmers and loggers will still sink or swim based on their skill, their effort, and the market—not on whether they can shoulder yet another tax on their tools.

Citizens who care about a strong rural economy, about keeping family farms viable, and about restraining the reach of government should get behind SB2272. Contact your state senator and representative. Tell them you support tax relief for the people who work Mississippi’s land and forests, and that you want a tax code that encourages production instead of penalizing it.

MS SB2272 won’t fix every problem facing agriculture. But it’s a clear step in the right direction: less government taking, more freedom to produce.

Picture a school official sitting at your kitchen table, red pen in hand, grading not just your child’s test but your decision to homeschool at all. That is the direction Tennessee is headed if HB1729 becomes law.

HB1729 is being sold as a minor update to testing rules and a chance to add one more exam option, the Classic Learning Test (CLT). But behind the technical language lies a clear shift: more state control over home education and less trust in parents.

Here’s what the bill really does. It expands mandatory standardized testing for homeschool students in grades 5, 7, and 9. Those test scores would no longer be just between parents and their children. HB1729 requires that results be sent to the local director of schools and the state board, feeding more data into government systems and inviting more scrutiny of families who have chosen a different educational path.

The bill also redefines what counts as “non‑proficient” with detailed cut scores and percentiles. If a child’s performance falls below those rigid thresholds, parents are automatically pulled into mandated consultations with district officials and licensed teachers — people who may never have met the student, but now gain leverage over what is deemed an “acceptable” homeschool education.

If the student still doesn’t hit the state-approved numbers, HB1729 forces a second round of the same standardized test within a year. That happens regardless of whether the parents believe the test is appropriate, accurate, or aligned with their curriculum or their child’s learning style. Home instruction, in effect, becomes a probationary program, subject to recurring state evaluation.

Most troubling, the bill authorizes the director of schools to order parents to enroll their child in a public, private, or church-related school if the student repeatedly underperforms and is not diagnosed with a learning disability. In other words, one official, using one narrow measurement, could overrule a family’s educational choice.

That is a profound shift in who ultimately decides what is best for a child.

Standardized tests can be useful tools, but HB1729 turns them into gatekeepers of educational freedom. It assumes that a single test score on a few days out of a year should carry more weight than years of daily parental observation, tutoring, and instruction. It treats parents as suspects who must prove their competence to the state rather than as partners trusted to raise and educate their own children.

Yes, the bill does one positive thing: it recognizes the CLT, slightly expanding options for both public and homeschool students. But this small gain is chained to a larger expansion of regulatory burdens and surveillance. That is a bad trade for Tennessee families and for anyone who believes in limited government.

Homeschooling parents are already accountable — to their children, to their own consciences, and ultimately to the same laws that protect every child from neglect or abuse. HB1729 layers on a new regime of testing, reporting, and potential coercion that undermines that accountability rather than improving it.

Lawmakers should reject HB1729, and citizens should tell them so. Call your representative, attend local meetings, and speak up: Tennessee does not need more centralized control over education. It needs more trust in families.

Live in Tennessee?

Go to Tennessee Stands and Take Action.

On any Saturday morning across Mississippi, you can find them: home bakers selling pecan pies from their kitchens, church members raising funds with pound cakes, families making jams and jellies from backyard fruit. These “cottage food” producers embody Mississippi’s work ethic and entrepreneurial spirit. Yet under current law, the state tells them, “You can only succeed so much.”

House Bill 910 would finally change that.

In plain terms, HB910 does two simple but powerful things. First, it removes the annual gross sales cap on cottage food operations — the arbitrary limit on how much these home-based businesses are allowed to earn each year. Second, it allows them to sell online, by mail, wholesale, and through third-party retailers directly to consumers in Mississippi.

That’s it. No new bureaucracy, no new program, no new tax. Just more freedom for Mississippians to work, create, and trade.

Right now, a home baker who starts to find real success hits a government-imposed ceiling. Imagine a single parent in Tupelo who builds a loyal following for her gluten-free breads. Under current law, once she reaches the cap, she must either turn customers away or shut down growth unless she’s ready to take on expensive commercial kitchen costs. A law that was supposed to help small businesses ends up punishing the very people it was meant to support.

Removing the cap doesn’t guarantee success, but it stops the government from limiting it.

Allowing online and expanded sales channels is just as important. In 2026, telling entrepreneurs they can’t sell their products online is like telling farmers they can’t use tractors. A retired veteran in Natchez who makes the best spice rub in the county should be free to sell it through a website or a local grocery store without having to navigate outdated restrictions. Consumers who want to support local producers shouldn’t have to track them down at a farmer’s market when a click or a simple in-store purchase would do.

HB910 is a modest, commonsense reform — but it touches fundamental liberty principles.

It respects property rights: if you own your kitchen, your time, and your recipe, you should be free to use them to earn a living, so long as you’re honest with your customers. It strengthens voluntary exchange: willing buyers and willing sellers should be allowed to do business without the state artificially standing in the way. And it advances limited government: state agencies shouldn’t be in the business of deciding how much a home baker is “allowed” to prosper.

Safety concerns are often raised in these debates, but Mississippi already limits cottage foods to non-potentially hazardous products and requires clear labeling. HB910 doesn’t erase common-sense protections; it removes economic shackles that have nothing to do with health and everything to do with control.

Legislators often talk about supporting small business, rural opportunity, and self-reliance. HB910 is a chance to prove it. More home-based businesses mean more income in local communities, more options for consumers, and more Mississippians charting their own course rather than waiting on government help.

Mississippians should contact their representatives and senators and urge them to pass HB910. It’s time to get out of the kitchen of home entrepreneurs and let them cook — and sell — as much as the free market will bear.