State · Rules · Complexity
The Labour Code runs 3,200 pages. Switzerland achieves the same with 130. A hospital doctor spends 30% of their time on forms. There are 11,500 laws in force in France — not counting 120,000 regulatory texts. Bureaucracy doesn't grow because someone decided it should. It grows because that's the natural logic of institutions: every problem calls for a rule, every rule creates a department, every department defends its existence.
You hire someone. In Switzerland, the rules of the game fit in 130 pages — basic obligations, leave, contracts, dismissals. In France, the same topics fill 3,200 pages. It's not that French workers are better protected. It's that every special case, every exception, every sub-regime of every sub-rule has been written into law over decades. The result: nobody understands the whole thing. Not employers, not employees, sometimes not even judges.
Complexity is regressive: it's the most educated people — or those who can afford a lawyer — who find their way around it. A craftsperson with 3 employees has no HR department. They navigate 3,200 pages of rules blind, or they pay someone to do it. Large companies have entire teams dedicated to just that.
You want to open a bakery. You know how to bake. You've found a space. You have some savings. Here's what awaits you before your first croissant goes in the oven.
Each step is individually justifiable. But together they create a journey that discourages the least-equipped founders — those without the network, the capital, or the education level to navigate the system alone. Compare with what our neighbours do for the same result: trained bakers, clean kitchens, protected customers.
Bureaucracy doesn't just cost money. It costs time from people whose time is worth something concrete: healthcare, teaching, help. A hospital doctor spends an average of 30% of their working time on administrative tasks — reports, forms, coding, justifications. That's fewer consultations, fewer diagnoses, fewer patients.
The same problem hits teachers, nurses, police officers. The higher you go in the hierarchy, the worse it gets. A hospital director today spends more time filling in reports for the regional health agency than actually running their institution. This isn't a caricature — it's what professionals describe in surveys by the FHF and the Cour des comptes.
For 30 years, every government has announced simplification. The Picq report (1994). The Attali report (2008). The Warsmann report (2011). Hollande's simplification shock (2013). Action publique 2022. And yet: the number of laws in force has quadrupled since 1980. Pages published in the Official Journal have multiplied sixfold. The machine hasn't slowed down.
This isn't a problem of bad political intent. It's institutional logic: a public service never disappears. A law is rarely repealed — a new one is created on top. Every new crisis justifies a new decree. Every new decree creates a new form. Every new form creates a new post to process it. That's how 11,500 laws accumulate.
When talking about too many rules and too many civil servants, the same defences appear. Here's what you hear — and what the facts say.
No civil servant wakes up wanting to cause harm. No minister sincerely wants to paralyse the economy. But institutional logic naturally pushes toward more rules, more posts, more procedures — because none of them are incentivised to create fewer. The only way to break this cycle: set external constraints. One rule created, two removed. Automatic review every ten years. Administrative costs made visible. This isn't liberalism — it's institutional hygiene. Denmark, Sweden, the Netherlands have understood this. What gets measured can be managed.