The Greater the Incompetence, the More Extensive the Rules

There’s a strange paradox you can observe in schools, offices, governments, and even everyday social systems: the less capable a system becomes, the more rules it creates. Instead of solving problems, it multiplies procedures. Instead of trusting people, it builds layers of control. Over time, the rulebook grows thicker while actual effectiveness quietly declines.

This approach isn’t accidental. It follows a pattern.

In highly competent environments, rules tend to be minimal and often invisible. That’s because capable individuals and well-functioning systems rely on judgment, shared understanding and accountability. The instructions are not rigid and surveillance is virtually absent.

Think about a strong team. People communicate clearly, adapt quickly, and take responsibility for outcomes. They don’t need a rule for every scenario because they can interpret context. They don’t rely on checklists to think for them; instead, they use checklists to support thinking. Rules exist, but they guide rather than constrain.

Now flip the situation.

When competence drops, whether due to poor training, weak leadership, or lack of trust, systems compensate by adding rules. Each failure triggers a new restriction. Each mistake becomes a policy. Over time, this creates a dense web of procedures designed not to enable success but to prevent further failure.

You start to see excessive approvals for simple actions, rigid protocols that ignore context, documentation replacing understanding, and compliance valued over outcomes.

The logic seems reasonable at first: if people make mistakes, create rules to stop them. But this approach treats symptoms, not causes.

Instead of improving capability, the system builds scaffolding around its weaknesses. More rules create the feeling of control, but not the reality of it. Perhaps not surprisingly, excessive regulation often produces the opposite effect:

• People follow rules mechanically without understanding them

• Creativity and initiative disappear

• Responsibility becomes diffused (“I just followed procedure”)

• Work slows down while errors persist in new forms

A bloated rule system doesn’t eliminate incompetence, it hides it. It replaces thinking with compliance.

At its core, this pattern reflects a breakdown of trust.

When leaders don’t trust people to think, they try to control behavior through rules. When organizations don’t trust judgment, they standardize everything. When systems don’t trust competence, they enforce uniformity.

But trust and competence reinforce each other. You can’t build one while undermining the other. The more you restrict autonomy, the less people develop the capacity to act intelligently within it.

The consequences extend beyond inefficiency. Over time, rule-heavy systems discourage learning and growth. They attract people who prefer compliance over responsibility and repel those who think critically and act independently. The system becomes rigid in the face of change.

Ironically, the very systems that rely most on rules often become the least adaptable.

But if more rules aren’t the answer, what is?

The alternative is harder, but far more effective. Institutions and governments and even homes should invest in training and skill development and create clear principles instead of endless procedures. Encourage ownership of outcomes. Design systems that require thinking, not just following.

Don’t get me wrong. Rules still matter but they should support competence, not replace it.

A useful question to ask of any system is this: “Are the rules helping capable people do their work better or are they compensating for a lack of capability?”

If it’s the latter, the solution isn’t to write more rules. It’s to build a system and a culture that no longer needs so many.

The expansion of rules often signals something deeper than a desire for order. It signals uncertainty, fear, and a lack of confidence in people’s ability to act well without constant guidance.

Competence simplifies. Incompetence complicates.

And when you see a system drowning in rules, it’s worth asking not what those rules say but what they’re trying to hide.

PS: This blog grew out of a recent dental appointment. During that visit, I was struck by how many additional procedures the provincial British Columbia College of Oral Health Professionals (formerly the College of Dental Surgeons of British Columbia) had introduced into dental practices. What should have been a straightforward appointment now involved multiple layers of administrative steps and compliance checks. Each requirement no doubt serves a purpose, whether for patient safety, standardization, or oversight, but taken together, they translate into higher costs, longer wait times, and a more complex experience for patients.

The effects extend beyond patients. Several dentists have noted that these expanding requirements increasingly shape how they practice, shifting time and attention toward documentation and regulatory adherence. Experiences like this raise a broader question: at what point do additional rules stop improving outcomes and start compensating for deeper systemic inefficiencies?