Maryland’s Bureaucratic Bloat: Stop Empire-Building and Save Millions by Clayton Mitchell

One of my more inquisitive readers recently posed a question in the comments section, dripping with the sort of presumption that so often accompanies political discourse: “Can’t help wondering how Mr. Mitchell would propose to solve the $3 billion structural deficit that actually accrued under former Governor Hogan’s leadership?” I am, of course, compelled to reject the premise. Governor Hogan did not bequeath a deficit but rather departed Annapolis leaving behind a $5 billion surplus—a fact so indisputable that even Governor Moore, upon assuming office in January 2023, acknowledged Maryland’s “fortunate” financial standing. That this fiscal windfall has since deteriorated into crisis is a testament not to Hogan’s stewardship, but to the profligacy of those who followed.

If I was to write a full response on how I would propose to solve the $3 billion deficit, it would consume many hundreds of pages.  Instead, I shall offer just a few examples:

There is, to put it bluntly, something profoundly disturbing about a government so enamored with its own bureaucratic sprawl that it cannot so much as glance at its own expenditures without encountering redundancies thick enough to blot out the very sun of fiscal prudence. Maryland, the Old Line State, has become the Overlapping Line State, where agencies duplicate the functions of other agencies, where tax dollars hemorrhage in the service of inefficiency, and where reform is spoken of wistfully but never enacted. This condition is neither natural nor necessary. It is the predictable consequence of a government whose appetite for expansion exceeds its capacity for discipline.

One needs only to examine Maryland’s workforce development programs to appreciate the wastefulness of the current system. Here we have the Maryland Department of Labor overseeing job training, while the Maryland Department of Commerce, for reasons known only to the bureaucratic mind, also administers its own workforce grants. As if that were insufficient, the Maryland Higher Education Commission and local workforce boards run parallel efforts, their mandates overlapping like poorly laid shingles on an already leaking roof. 

The result? Administrative redundancy, programmatic inefficiency, and, worst of all, a workforce no better prepared than if a single competent entity had overseen the effort.

But let us not stop there. Consider the confounding patchwork of Maryland’s economic development initiatives, where no fewer than three separate entities—the Maryland Department of Commerce, TEDCO, and a constellation of county development offices—each claim to be the indispensable engine of business growth. Yet, despite their myriad grants, incentives, and tax credits, one struggles to discern a clear, unified strategy. Instead, what emerges is a bureaucratic hydra, each head snapping at the same objectives with little regard for coordination, let alone efficiency.

The absurdity extends to public safety, where law enforcement agencies multiply like rabbits under a full moon. Maryland State Police patrol the highways while the Maryland Transit Administration (MTA) Police patrol the railways—both under state authority yet functioning as distinct entities. Meanwhile, the Natural Resources Police conduct enforcement that, in many instances, overlaps with existing state and local law enforcement efforts. To the bureaucrat, this fragmentation is a virtue—a testament to the government’s commitment to public safety. To the taxpayer, it is an unmitigated scam, a fiscal sinkhole in which precious resources are lost in the abyss of administrative fiefdoms.

Health and social services are no better. Marylanders must navigate an array of agencies—the Maryland Department of Health, the Department of Human Services, and the Maryland Health Benefit Exchange—each overseeing different, yet eerily similar, programs. Medicaid, food assistance, and housing support are administered not through a streamlined and cohesive system, but through an obstacle course of redundant offices, each armed with its own budget and bureaucratic prerogatives. That this inefficiency persists in a state so heavily taxed is an affront to reason.

The same could be said of early childhood education, where MSDE, the Department of Human Services, and county-level agencies each assert dominion over pre-K and childcare subsidies. And yet, despite this bureaucratic overabundance, no one could seriously argue that Maryland’s educational outcomes justify the labyrinthine complexity. If anything, the confusion serves only to exacerbate inequality, as parents struggle to decipher which agency, which program, which level of government, will deliver the services their children need.

Beyond bureaucratic redundancy, Maryland is also burdened by a host of government-funded programs that would be far better suited for privatization or outright elimination. Consider Maryland Public Television (MPT) and the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra (BSO) – both entities that, while culturally valuable, should operate independently of state funding, sustained instead by private donations and sponsorships.

In particular, MPT is often defended on the grounds that it provides vital educational programming such as Sesame Street. Yet, this argument crumbles under scrutiny. Sesame Street is not a public service; it is a commercial enterprise. Sesame Workshop, the organization behind Sesame Street, generates enormous revenue through licensing and merchandising. 

In 2004, more than 68% of Sesame Street’s revenue came from toy and clothing sales. By 2005, licensing and international co-productions generated $96 million annually. Between 2008 and 2019, Sesame Street Muppets raked in $15 to $17 million per year in merchandising fees, with proceeds split between Sesame Workshop and The Jim Henson Company. In 2018, Sesame Workshop’s largest revenue source was royalties and distribution fees, totaling $52.9 million. This is not a struggling nonprofit in need of government assistance; this is a multimillion-dollar brand with extensive private sector backing.

Maryland taxpayers should not be forced to subsidize what is, in effect, a free advertisement for Sesame Street merchandise. If MPT provides value, let it prove so in the free market. There is no compelling reason why it cannot sustain itself through private sponsorships, viewer donations, and corporate underwriting, just as countless other media organizations do.

The same logic applies to the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra (BSO). This is an organization that provides entertainment to an insular audience of citizens—a cultural function, not an essential public service. The BSO has received repeated taxpayer-funded bailouts despite its ability to generate revenue from ticket sales, private sponsorships, and philanthropy. 

Adding insult to injury, the salaries of BSO’s top executives further illustrate why public subsidies are unnecessary. For example, in 2021, the BSO’s President and CEO earned over $400,000 (more than the Governor), and other high-ranking executives commanded six-figure salaries. If the organization can afford to pay its leadership handsomely, it should also be able to figure out how to operate without dipping into the taxpayer’s pocket.

These are but a few examples of where Maryland could implement cost-cutting and privatization reforms. The opportunities do not end here. With new AI tools rapidly advancing, many ministerial duties currently performed by state employees could be automated. 

For instance, processing permits and licenses, a task that consumes countless hours of government labor, could be handled by AI-driven systems that review applications, check compliance, and issue approvals within minutes. Similarly, document classification and retrieval in legal and regulatory offices could be streamlined through AI-powered databases, eliminating the need for redundant clerical work and freeing up human resources for higher-value tasks.

These reforms, privatizations, and cost-cutting measures must be enacted before state leaders come back to the well in the 2026 Session, demanding more from Maryland taxpayers. The burden should not continually fall on citizens’ wallets when there is ample room for restructuring government operations to operate more efficiently and responsibly.

I have written before, in Fiscal Reform for Maryland, that the state’s budgetary trajectory is unsustainable. A government that fails to trim the fat will, in due course, find itself feasting on the substance of its people. Maryland must resist this course. What is needed is a top-down reorganization—one that consolidates workforce programs, eliminates redundant business incentives, streamlines law enforcement, and centralizes social services. The principles are simple: one agency per function, coordination instead of duplication, and efficiency over empire-building.  

Governor Marvin Mandel reformed and re-organized the state’s government over 50 years ago without the aid of computers or artificial intelligence and in an era where there were no departments and over sprawling 240 agencies.  Certainly, we can now reform state government, make efficiencies, and bring forth a working bureaucracy for the 21st century.

The time for half-measures has passed. If Maryland wishes to retain even a semblance of fiscal responsibility, it must rein in its bureaucratic excess. Let those who resist such reform be reminded: a government that exists to serve itself ceases to serve the people. And a government that ceases to serve the people is one that, sooner or later, the people will cease to support.

Clayton A. Mitchell, Sr., is a lifelong Eastern Shoreman, an attorney, and the former Chairman of the Maryland Department of Labor’s Board of Appeals. He is also the co-host of the Gonzales/Mitchell Show podcast, which discusses politics, business, and cultural issues.