The Z-Word: Zoning
SATURDAY WATCHDOG COLUMN | The Z-Word: Why Zoning Is Bad for Rutherford County — And Why America’s 250th Birthday Makes This Debate More Important Than Ever
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By Annie Dance | Cops & Congress | News & Commentary
UNINCORPORATED RUTHERFORDTON, N.C. — As America approaches its 250th birthday in 2026, the conversation about freedom, self-governance, and individual rights feels more urgent than it has in decades. Communities across the country are preparing to celebrate the founding ideas that shaped this nation — the belief that ordinary citizens should control their own property, their own work, and their own future without unnecessary interference from government. It’s fitting, then, that at this exact moment in history, Rutherford County finds itself staring down a question that cuts to the very heart of those founding principles. That question is zoning.
For some people, the “Z-word” sounds like a harmless planning term. For others, it sounds like progress. But for me and those of us who have lived under zoning before — and chose to move here to get away from it — the Z-word signals something much larger. It signals a shift in power, in priorities, and in the relationship between citizens and government.
I wasn’t born here. My story begins far from these foothills, in the state capitol of a northeastern state, where zoning was woven into daily life like wallpaper you couldn’t peel off. There, property owners had to ask permission for almost everything — adding structures, expanding their homes, starting small businesses, even parking work vehicles in certain neighborhoods. What you “owned” was never fully yours. It belonged partly to the boards, the committees, the inspectors, and the permit departments, who believed they knew better than you.
After years of watching people surrender hours, money, and dignity to boards just to use their own land, I knew I needed something different. When I moved to Rutherford County many years ago, I did so with the clear understanding that this was still one of the last counties in western North Carolina where landowners could truly live free of zoning’s grip (as long as you’re not in one of its towns). Here, people were expected to manage their own land responsibly, respect their neighbors, and solve minor disputes like adults — not drag each other into government hearings.
That freedom was part of Rutherford County’s identity. It was part of its appeal. It was part of why I came here. It was part of having a direct fresh water source during the height of a pandemic. Living just steps from a tributary of the Broad River. Then Hurricane Helene came in 2024. The historic storm is why I believe that zoning is getting renewed attention.
But now, zoning — that same bureaucratic force I left behind in CT many moons ago— is creeping back into the conversation through studies, committees, “recommendations,” and regional planning language that smells like the first stages of something much bigger. And as we approach America’s Semiquincentennial, I can’t think of a more appropriate time to write candidly about what zoning really is to me, how it spread through western North Carolina, and why it would fundamentally change the culture and values that make this county special.
A Brief History: How Zoning Took Over Western North Carolina — And How Rutherford County Held the Line
To understand what’s happening now, you have to understand what’s happened for decades.
For most of the 20th century, western North Carolina was a region defined by independence. Land was plentiful, towns were small, and people relied on common sense and community standards rather than government dictates. Counties were slow to adopt zoning because few people wanted it, and even fewer believed it was necessary.
That began to change in the 1980s and 1990s, when layers of federal, state, and regional pressure pushed counties into adopting zoning “for their own good.” What began as basic “use regulation” quickly bloomed into the complex systems we see today in Buncombe, Henderson, Jackson, Watauga, Haywood, Transylvania, and others.
It always followed the same pattern:
Start with simple zoning.
Add a planning board.
Add a redevelopment commission.
Expand to commercial use rules.
Add watershed overlays.
Add steep-slope ordinances.
Restrict short-term rentals.
Add design standards.
Increase staff.
Increase fees.
Expand zoning maps.
Add new enforcement powers.
Year after year, the regulations grow.
Year after year, property rights shrink.
Year after year, government departments expand.
Zoning never moves backward.
Zoning never shrinks.
Zoning never becomes “less restrictive” over time.
Against all of this, Rutherford County remained an outlier — a holdout. A county where unincorporated land stayed unzoned. A county where building codes existed, environmental protections were followed, and septic and stormwater permitting still worked — without zoning boards controlling every decision. However, there are ordinances, and there is a planning commission for certain things.
But, overall, I feel that some will call that old-fashioned to not be progressive and be like other cities and counties. I call it freedom.
Why People Move Here — And Why Zoning Threatens That Choice
In conversations across this county, I hear the same story again and again:
“I moved here for freedom.”
“I moved here for land.”
“I moved here so the government wouldn’t tell me what to do on my own property.”
“I left the city because zoning ruined everything.”
These aren’t fringe opinions. They’re common sense.
People don’t come to Rutherford County to be micromanaged. They come because it’s one of the rare places left where personal responsibility still means something. Where you can build a workshop, park equipment, raise chickens, run a small business from home, or grow your land into what you dream it to be — without pleading for permission.
If zoning arrives, that changes overnight.
Why Zoning Is Bad Policy — Especially for Rural, Conservative Counties
Here are the core truths zoning proponents don’t want to talk about:
1. Zoning hands your property rights to government.
When government decides what you can build, where, and how, you’re no longer the true owner.
2. Zoning grows government — and your tax bill.
New rules require new staff, new enforcement, new lawyers, new boards, and more money.
3. Zoning makes housing less affordable.
Limit where homes can be built and you limit supply — which drives prices up.
4. Zoning gives politicians enormous power.
A board can determine the value of your property with a single vote.
5. Zoning hurts the working class.
Tradesmen and small business owners face the steepest hurdles.
6. Zoning drags deputies into civil disputes.
Law enforcement ends up mediating arguments about land uses that were never criminal to begin with.
7. Zoning favors developers.
Big companies navigate the rules. Ordinary families get tangled in them.
8. Rural counties don’t need zoning to maintain order.
Common sense and state rules have worked here for generations.
9. Zoning erodes the very culture that makes rural NC what it is.
Freedom isn’t a slogan here. It’s a lifestyle.
10. Zoning always expands — never the reverse.
Ask any county that has adopted zoning. It only gets stricter.
Why the Timing Matters: America’s 250th Birthday Is a Reminder of What’s at Stake
As America prepares to celebrate a quarter-millennium of independence, it’s worth remembering that property rights were not a small issue in the founding era — they were the issue.
The right to own land, to use it, to build on it, to work it, and to benefit from it without government interference was one of the core motivations behind the drive for independence.
The founders didn’t fight a revolution so people could one day beg local boards to approve a garage or a home workshop. They fought because freedom requires ownership — real ownership.
The Semiquincentennial should be a moment to re-embrace those values, not inch away from them through the slow, bureaucratic creep of zoning.
A Pattern Reemerges: The Housing Study and the Push Toward Zoning
And that brings us to now.
This Monday, the Rutherford County Commissioners are scheduled to hear a presentation from the taxpayer-funded Foothills Regional Commission about a new housing study. These studies often include “recommendations” — a word that doesn’t carry the force of law but often functions as a roadmap for increased regulation.
Housing “recommendations” have a track record across the region:
“Encourage zoning.”
“Promote land-use controls.”
“Strengthen permitting.”
“Adopt growth management policies.”
Make no mistake: these studies are rarely neutral.
They point toward zoning.
They push for zoning.
They normalize zoning.
The housing study was organized, at least in part, by a sitting county commissioner’s son who works for FRC. (I’m told that commissioner Alan Toney, is not running for re-election in 2026, but he recently told me “no comment” when I asked him.)
Don’t get me wrong, we all need an affordable place to live, but to me zoning is not the answer in unincorporated areas of Rutherford County. There’s no county water. There’s no county sewer. There’s no county trash pickup.
As the county prepares to hear this newest pitch, I felt it was the right time — the necessary time — to offer this perspective. Not from a planner. Not from a consultant. Not from a regional agency. But from a taxpayer. A writer. A journalist. A former Congressional candidate aide. A small-government advocate. A landowner. A resident. Someone who moved here precisely because this county valued property rights above bureaucracy. If you want zoning there are many, many other places you can go in the surrounding area, the state, and the country. Just take a look at the zoning atlas.
A Closing Thought
As the Rutherford County Commissioners get ready for the Foothills Regional Commission’s housing presentation explaining the study on Monday, December 1, I wanted to take a few minutes to lay out exactly why zoning matters, why it concerns me, and why this debate reaches far beyond a single meeting agenda. The Z-word brings consequences — cultural, economic, political, and personal — that cannot be undone once they take hold. (View all the agenda items on my DocumentCloud.)
I plan to remotely record the meeting and pay close attention to every detail.
Remember, you may give public comment at the public meeting in person.
Stay tuned.