When Kamala Harris accepted her party’s nomination for president at the Democratic National Convention, she didn’t mention food prices or cracking down on “price gouging,” a key component of her recently revealed economic plan to tackle inflation. Yet she was quite proud then as she vowed “to pass the first-ever federal ban” on price gouging on food.

Well, technically she spoke about halting “price gauging [sic] on food,” which would mean adopting a federal ban on deciding how large a foodstuff is. But cut her some slack. Reading a speech prepared by others, let alone telling the truth, can be a terribly difficult thing to do. Just ask President Joe Biden (see here, here, here, here, here, here, and here. We could list many other instances, but you get the point).

To call the Harris plan a set of “populist gimmicks” would leave even Huey Long disappointed. To call the Harris plan “economically illiterate” defames people who can’t read and write. To call the plan half-witted would give it 50 percent more credit than it deserves.

Start with price controls. Cap prices by government fiat and, like the night follows the day, supply will drop, and prices will rise.

But don’t take my word for it. Here’s what the Federal Reserve Bank of St. Louis under the Biden-Harris Administration had to say only two years ago about “Why Price Controls Should Stay in the History Books.” As Christopher Neely, a senior economic advisor, explained: “Prices allocate scarce resources” while “[p]rice controls distort those signals, leading to the inefficient allocation of goods and services.” So much for an efficient market.

Want proof that price caps don’t work? Consider the gas crunch in 1979: the odd-even system of gas purchases. Gas rationing. Waiting in long lines, but not getting any gas because the tanks were dry. Maybe Harris did not have any personal experience with that phenomenon in 1979 because she was only 15 or 16 years old at the time and might not have been driving yet. But does she not have an economic advisor who was driving then, or maybe just one who actually has a degree in economics?

Buyers and sellers, however, won’t treat price controls like the law of gravity. They will seek to evade them either by, as Neely put it, “chang[ing] a good slightly to prevent it from being subject to the same price limit” (for example, selling sandwiches rather than cold cuts) or “by trading illegally in black markets.” Cap food prices, and people will commit crimes to feed their families by paying vendors under the table to get priority status for scarce supplies or by conspiring with delicatessen owners to treat selling two pieces or bread with two pounds of cold cuts as a sandwich. That is a type of baloney we don’t need.

“No, no, no,” will be the reply. Harris wants to ban only “price gouging.” That limitation will avoid those harms.

Spare me.

The term “price gouging” has been around for some time. Yet its meaning, like the legal term “obscenity” was for Supreme Court Justice Potter Stewart, is in the eye of the beholder. A legally understandable and enforceable definition of that term is like Bigfoot or the Loch Ness Monster. Lots of people have reported seeing it, but no one can offer proof.

That’s a problem when it comes to the law. Legal terms that have no definite meaning are not materially different than terms written in a foreign language. Those options are the equivalent of having no law at all, or a smudge where a definition should be. It allows government officials to favor friends, punish opponents, flip a coin, or vent their spleen.

In short, it is a charade, an attempt to pass what looks like a law but is contentless and therefore allows bureaucrats to do whatever they please. Anglo-American law has prohibited that strategy since the Magna Carta was adopted in 1215, which barred taking life, liberty, or property except pursuant to the “law” of the land. And no one can define “price gouging” with the specificity necessary to qualify as a “law.”

How did this happen?

The Democratic Party might have changed their standard bearer from Sleepy Joe Biden (or, Grumpy, if you watched him at the 2024 DNC Monday night) to Dopey (Kamala Harris). But the game plan is the same: Sandersism.

In 2020, the Democratic Party nomenklatura saw Vermont’s Senator Bernie Sanders win the popular vote in Iowa and the New Hampshire and Nevada primaries. He was the front-runner to challenge then-President Donald Trump for that office. The DNC politburo (correctly) feared that a man who had spent his honeymoon in the Soviet Union would appear far too obviously to be a fellow traveler with, rather than a shield against, Vladimir Putin. So, the party leadership threw its weight behind former U.S. Senator and Vice President Joe Biden.

Why? Biden was a well-known “party man,” someone willing to do whatever it took to endorse the party line and follow the party wherever it was going. Biden’s personal tragedies made it difficult to engender hatred. And Biden wanted to be president so badly that he once even used the life story of Neil Kinnock, British Labor Party leader, when running for president in the 1980s.

Worried that Sanders would go home and take his followers (and potential voters) with him, Biden decided to adopt nearly every jot and tittle of Sanders’s policy preferences so that he could get their votes in November 2020. Since then, Biden has ruled more like a mayor than a president, giving everyone whose votes he needs whatever goodies they want without once thinking of what is best for the nation.

Now we have the current VP following the same game plan. Bread and circuses, instead of serious, rational, well-thought-out, nation-advancing policies.

This is getting old—and dangerous.

The views expressed in this article are the author’s own and do not reflect any institutional position for Heritage or its Board of Trustees.

It was nearly midnight in New York City when Grigor Dimitrov’s hamstring came unglued. 

The commentator spoke gravely: “He’s going to dance at his own funeral. Heartbreaking, heartsick. It’s all that.”

The 33-year-old Bulgarian had come up limp in the penultimate third set as he and the rising American tennis star Frances Tiafoe battled viciously to wrest control of their quarterfinals match at the U.S. Open late Tuesday night. 

Dimitrov valiantly tried to carry on but his leg could not. When all was said and done, Tiafoe met the Bulgarian at center court for a muted celebration. 

Tennis fans deserved better. So did Tiafoe and Dimitrov.

The pair exchanged the first two sets through fiery, fantastic tennis that climaxed with Dimitrov capturing a second set tiebreak to even the match after nearly two hours of play. By the fourth set, however, Dimitrov could barely move, hobbling around the court with his leg in tow. 

And after Tiafoe catapulted to a 4–1 lead in the fourth set, Dimitrov motioned to the chair umpire and then to Frances. It was over. The Maryland-born Tiafoe had secured passage into his second Grand Slam Semifinal—a Friday night, primetime, All-American matchup against the California-born Taylor Fritz.

It’ll be a big day for American tennis fans everywhere. An American hasn’t won a Grand Slam tournament in over 20 years, dating back to when 21-year-old Andy Roddick claimed victory at the 2003 U.S. Open. And two Americans haven’t faced each other this deep into a Grand Slam since Andre Agassi beat Robby Ginepri at the U.S. Open in 2005. 

Tiafoe’s dramatic ascendancy through the tennis rankings (he’s currently #20 in the world) is the sort of rags-to-riches story that has come to characterize our understanding of the American Dream. 

Tiafoe, the son of Sierra Leonean immigrants who escaped civil war, was the last man anyone expected to be celebrating on center stage at Arthur Ashe Stadium in the wee morning hours on Wednesday. But there he was, in one of the grand arenas of tennis. The 26-year-old beamed from ear to ear. An American dream fulfilled.

“When I told people that I wanted to grow up to be a tennis player, they laughed at me,” Tiafoe stated in his 2017 profile for Players Tribune. No one was laughing now. 

The world of tennis (much like golf) is financially prohibitive by nature, with costly club memberships and even more costly coaches creating a narrow band of players and backgrounds. It’s part of what makes the story of Tiafoe and his parents Alphina and Constant (Frances Sr.) all the richer to contemplate. 

None of Tiafoe’s miraculous rise would have been possible without a bit of luck, a new start in Maryland, and the hardscrabble work ethic of his parents. Tiafoe’s father, who immigrated to the DC area in the mid-90s, worked as a day-laborer during the construction of the Junior Tennis Champions Center in College Park, Maryland. 

It was there that Frances Sr. earned a job as head of maintenance and picked up extra cash by cleaning the clay courts at night. The gig came with a 150-square foot office which doubled as a bedroom when Alphina was busy working overnight shifts as a nurse.   

“He’d sleep on the massage table so that Franklin and I could have the couches,” recalls Tiafoe.

At the center, Frances and his twin brother Franklin fell in love with tennis. Misha Kouznetsov, then a 24-year old coach, spotted the duo and took interest in their development.

Kouznetsov, like Frances, was an outsider, having immigrated from Russia at the age of 15 with only $60 in his pocket and the dream of becoming a tennis pro. That dream ended when the Russian realized he was “too short” to compete at the top levels. Kouznetsov turned to coaching where he hoped to inspire and craft a young player into pro material. 

That’s when Kouznetsov saw an 8-year-old Frances walloping balls across the court. The pair’s meeting was the stuff of destiny. “Two hungry guys, and poor,” Kouznetsov said. “That’s why the whole Frances-and-I thing worked out.”

Kouznetsov recounts the uphill cultural and socio-economic battles he and Tiafoe fought in those early days. “We’d be laughed at,” Kouznetsov recalls while describing Tiafoe playing with discarded rackets and wearing cargo shorts.

But none of the mockery or awkwardness kept Kouznetsov from fostering Tiafoe’s undeniable talent. The young coach helped however he could —with money, with tutoring, and with travel expenses to top tournaments across the country. 

When Frances was only 9, Kouznetsov bought him new shoes, an Under Armour tee, and drove the youngster to Washington’s Mall Open where Tiafoe did the rest, winning the tournament. By the age of 15, Tiafoe had his breakthrough becoming the youngest winner in the history of the prestigious Orange Bowl. 

“I realized early that I could either sit there and be sad about my situation or use it as a way out,” Tiafoe has said to describe his humble beginnings. “I look at it like this: Your parents are your parents. You came up how you came up. You can’t change that. What I could control though was how hard I worked. I knew I had an ability to help my family and my community in a way that my peers at the academy couldn’t.”

Tiafoe has earned a staggering $11 million in his career. He is a global ambassador for Evian, a style icon for Nike, and a new face for watchmakers Tag Hueur.

A man of his word, Tiafoe never forgot his Prince George’s County roots. In July of 2023, he presented a $50,000 check to the Junior Tennis Champions Center with his two parents by his side. The former academy trainee also announced he would establish a charitable fund in partnership with the USTA Foundation to broaden access to the sport. 

“I’ve wanted to do this for a long time,” Tiafoe said. “It’s something I’ve always been passionate about. I love people. I love helping people. I’m a product of this place. I’m a guy who was given a chance—who wouldn’t have really had one—and look what I was able to do with it.”

UTSA Foundation’s Jeffrey J. Harrison championed the work Tiafoe has done to inspire the next generation: “He’s a role model for kids across the country.”

Friday’s matchup against Fritz represents arguably Tiafoe’s best chance to reach a Grand Slam final since becoming a pro. Though Fritz is playing some of the best tennis of his career, the San Diego native has never competed in a Grand Slam semifinal and the match is set for a primetime showing in the biggest tennis arena on the planet. 

Tiafoe reached the U.S. Open semis once before in 2022, when he became the first black American player to make it to that stage of the competition since Arthur Ashe did so in 1972. He fought Spaniard Carlos Alcaraz bravely that day, even jumping out to an early lead and then battling to extend the match to five sets. After four and a half grueling hours, Alcaraz did what he often does—he put Tiafoe away. 

No matter how the match against Fritz ends on Friday, Tiafoe has already achieved a level of success in the sport and his personal life that defied all odds when his parents escaped war-torn Sierra Leone nearly 30 years ago. 

Asked earlier in his career what he would want his tennis legacy to be, the young man with a big smile didn’t hesitate: “What if they say, ‘Hey, I want to be like Frances Tiafoe!’ That’s what I want my story to be.”