Princess Leia in the final scene of Star Wars: A New Hope. This braid would have to be made by a licensed cosmetologist if it was braided in Utah, instead of a "galaxy far, far away."

The hair-stylist industrial complex strikes back, and the little guy (or gal) is the loser.

There are many things that government should do. Is regulating hair braiding one of them?

It’s almost as bad an idea as government raising the cost of rental housing.

But Democratic state legislator Karen Mayne thinks it is a good idea. After getting reelected by voters who voted in a building with her husband’s name it, she was at the front of the charge of the booing “Big Hair” lobby (aka cosmetology) to kill a bill that would allow an immigrant to braid hair for profit.

You heard me correctly: braid hair. As in, french braids like the kind your mother did in your little sister’s hair while she watched cartoons. Or the fancy locks that Princess Leia wore in the Star Wars: A New Hope (come to think of it, she wore braids in Empire and Jedi, too…). Apparently, it’s not just moms who braid hair, anymore. It’s apparently important to the cosmetology industry, so dangerous that it is regulated and watched over by state agencies, lobbyists, and industry groups.

And by “dangerous,” I mean primarily to Big Hair, not to consumers.  Namely, Big Hair has created and passed state laws that keep the competition out.

That’s why, when Rep. Holly Richardson proposed a bill that would not only deregulate braiding and avoid a federal lawsuit against the state, the industry showed up to boo her down. Literally.

The committee room was packed with licensed cosmetologists who booed Richardson when she argued a person should be able to braid hair without a license and cheered those who testified that hair braiding can be dangerous if done by someone not properly trained.

Right now, if someone wants to charge someone to braid their hair, Utah law requires a cosmotology license, obtained only after extensive schooling.

Not surprisingly, one of those testifying against Richardson’s bill was Candace Daley, the lobbyist for the Cosmetology Schools Association.

Candace Daley, if you’re catching my drift, would be Darth Vader in this analogy. So who is our Princess Leia? That would be Jestina Clayton, East African immigrant and refugee.

Apparently, Princess Leia REALLY likes braids, because she has them in most of her scenes. This braid, worn on Cloud City in the Empire Strikes Back, would require a license if done in the state of Utah.

Hair braiders are, according to the Utah Department of Professional Licensing, cosmetologists.  Hair “weaving,” as it is called under Utah Code, is regulated as part of the “Practice of cosmetology/barbering.”  That means that before one can conduct “weaving” operations as a business, they must, under Utah Code 58-11a-301, obtain a license.

Qualifications for that license include submitting an application, a fee, “good moral character” (whatever that means for a hair braider), and evidence of 1,000  hours of instruction, 2,000 hours of practice and graduation from an accredited school.

In that same amount of time that it takes to get your license, the Institute for Justice argues, ” a person also could qualify to be an armed security guard, mortgage loan originator, real estate sales agent, EMT and lawyer—combined.” (Respectfully, I would suggest they aren’t counting how much time a budding lawyer has to spend studying, but that’s besides the point. Regardless, it’s a lot of time. Trust me. I know.)

And all that time so that you can braid hair. By the way, none of that training  is on the topic of braiding hair. Schools don’t teach it.

Back to Jestina Clayton, this story’s “Princess  Leia:”

Clayton, who makes up to $4,800 on a good year, said that even if she could afford the classes, the courses in Utah do not specifically address hair braiding.

“It is ridiculous to force people trying to put food on the table to go into debt just to do so,” said Clayton, who fled her war-torn home country for a better life in America. “I can understand if the state required us to take some health and sanitation courses, but taking cosmetology classes that don’t even involve hair braiding doesn’t make any sense.”

Even this braid, worn by Leia in Jabba's palace in Return of the Jedi, would require braiding by a licensed cosmetologist ... if Jabba's palace was in Utah.

No, it doesn’t make sense. But don’t try to explain that to Darth Vader. Not only are the “cosmetologists” benefiting from having their industry protected from competition, but so are cosmetology schools. (and yes, their web site is tuckanddry.com. Laugh it up, fuzzball…)

Now, before you accuse me of over-the-top libertarian tendencies (versus down-to-earth commonsense libertarian tendencies), let me just say that I do see the rationale and reasoning behind preventing just any whose-it go out and start throwing chemicals and hair treatment at housewives and beauty queens. It saves us all money in legal fees when thing go south by making sure that untrained practitioners (yeah, I just called them that) aren’t hurting people.

But hair braiding? A skill that is not taught by the cosmetology schools?

If it isn’t taught by cosmetology schools, I would venture that cosmetologists (the licensed ones, at least) probably aren’t doing it for their clients, not unless they have acquired the skill elsewhere.  So why do they care? Their clientele doesn’t ask them to do “weaves” and they aren’t taught weaves at school, so why care?

Maybe they don’t. Maybe it’s the schools that care? If you’re a cosmetology school and you can get a monopoly on training hair dressers–be they hair braiding or hair coloring–that’s good business…for the schools. With a monopoly on every woman who wants to become a cosmetologist or to braid hair for a profit, cosmetology schools can set their prices, limited only by competition from other schools.

What does that mean? Is cosmetology education good business?  Check it out: Utah has twenty-one (21) schools of cosmetology. Tuition and fees can be as high as $18,500 for a year of training (though most schools don’t even list their tuition costs online). If Taylor Andrews’ “completion on time” rate is 48%, that means that a lot of students are paying tuition for longer than just that first year…and that can add up.

Makes me want to open a cosmetology school and start enrolling students. Is there a downside?

Jestina Clayton braids the hair of her daughter, Esther Clayton, 5, at her home Monday, April 25, 2011, in Centerville, Utah. Clayton and the the Institute for Justice have filed a federal lawsuit seeking changes to Utah's hair braiding regulations.

There is if you braid hair. Jestina Clayton, a refugee from Sierra Leone’s bloody civil war, came to Utah for a better life.

Since coming here she has graduated from college (Weber State, 2008), met and married her husband Paul, and become the mother of two with a third on the way.

Jestina has been braiding hair since her childhood in Sierra Leone.  In 2005, as a college student with a young family, she started braiding hair for money—but only after she was told by the state of Utah that it was okay.  In 2009, however, a licensed cosmetologist complained that Jestina did not have a cosmetology license and the state threatened to prosecute her unless she shut down.  Not wanting to break the law, Jestina stopped braiding.

Doesn’t exactly sound like Jestina is lacking in anything except for forking out the money and time to acquire a skill (cosmetology) that she doesn’t want or need. She just wants to braid hair.

Now, we’ve all lost out on Jestina’s skills (well, except me. I don’t have much hair to start with). Not only is her trade harmless–she’s not weaving in extension braids, dying hair, or using any kind of dangerous tools–but it is something not taught by the very schools which have a government  granted a monopoly on the industry.

But what about liability? Who protects the consumer? What if she gets sued by an unhappy client?

Just like any other business, Jestina should be able to protect herself with insurance and a corporate entity. If the salon down the street from me gets sued, the stylists there are protected by the corporate veil, as long as they have a corporate entity. While their license can also be revoked by the Department of Professional Licensing, they are also practicing a more dangerous level of styling. They aren’t just combing and braiding hair–they’re also dyeing it, cutting it, cleaning it, and heating it. What Jestina does is completely different.

That’s a far cry from braiding. And, frankly, protection of the consumer, and of Jestina from unscrupulous clients who might sue (versus the unscrupulous cosmetologists that shut her down in the first place) is why we have insurance and corporate entities in the first place.

But that has nothing to do with why we regulate hair braiding. It is harmless to the consumer and it isn’t taught by the industry schools. Rather, hair braiding is regulated on behalf of the schools of cosmetology who are protecting their industry.

If you don’t think this is laughable, or a bit ridiculous, note this: only eight other states in the country prohibit braiding and when the lawsuit against the state to allow Jestina to use her skills to provide for her family was file, national news organizations picked it up. And this all while the Tea Party and the Utah Legislature has been riding the “small government” train to electoral success.

Answer me this: if it isn’t hurting anyone, why do we care?

None of this even addresses the constitutional arguments against regulating hair braiding, which could include violations of the Due Process and Immunities Clauses of the Fourteenth Amendment and Jestina’s right to work in her chosen occupation.  But that’s a post for another day.

[Deseret News][Salt Lake Tribune][Institute for Justice][MSNBC][CBS][Hollyonthehill]