By John Hood

North Carolina plays a starring role in the origin story of college basketball’s shot clock.

That is to say, it was the “four corners” offense of the late Dean Smith, longtime coach of the Tar Heels, that ultimately forced the NCAA’s hand back in the 1980s. Although professional basketball had employed a shot clock for decades, leaders of the college sport long resisted it. They thought limiting the number of seconds a team could possess the ball without shooting would make offenses too similar and force them to take poor shots.

The tipping point came in 1982, after UNC won the ACC championship by stalling for nearly seven minutes with a two-point lead over the Virginia Cavaliers. Conference officials gave in and instituted a 30-second shot clock. The entire NCAA adopted it in 1985.

Now, North Carolina is again at the forefront of debate about shot clocks — only in this case, they apply not to players in a game but to officials in regulatory proceedings.

During its 2023 session, the General Assembly passed a law that mandates a 45-day “shot clock” for municipalities to complete their review of permit applications for commercial construction or multifamily residential projects. It provides a 60-day window for “at-risk” permits, in which applicants accept full liability should there be subsequent problems with building structures or foundations.

Rep. Jeff Zenger (R-Forsyth), himself a developer, didn’t push for the change to punish municipalities. “I personally think it benefits everybody involved,” he told Triad Business Journal, by giving the private sector more predictability while giving regulators an incentive to prioritize their time. Zenger reported that other state legislatures seem poised to follow North Carolina’s lead.

Also last year, the General Assembly instituted other shot clocks. The North Carolina Department of Environmental Quality can consider air-quality permits for major modifications for up to 270 days, and for up to 90 days for minor modifications. In water-quality certifications for dredging and pipeline projects, DEQ has a 90-day shot clock for permitting projects for which public hearings are legally required. For projects without a hearing requirement, the clock runs out in 60 days.

This session, many lawmakers want to apply those same time limits to water-quality permits for a new power plant built on the same site as the plant it would replace. In Catawba and Person counties, for example, Duke Energy wants to swap out coal-fired plants in favor of natural gas. After a 30-day window to ensure the permit application is complete, DEQ would have 90 days to complete reviews of projects requiring a public hearing, and 60 days to review others.

In late June, the measure passed the North Carolina Senate with all Republicans in favor and all but one Democrat opposed. It now awaits action in the House Rules Committee.

There’s nothing magical about these specific numbers. It’s possible that as industries and regulators adapt to the new rules, lawmakers may have to tweak the day counts. But the basic concept of regulatory shot clocks is sound. It properly balances the legitimate interest in public health and safety with the legitimate interest in ensuring public access to housing, employment, and affordable energy.

The problem extends beyond state and local permitting. Robert Poole, director of transportation policy for the Reason Foundation, argued in a recent paper that environmental litigation impedes critically needed infrastructure projects.

“There is growing support among opinion leaders and a large array of business, labor, and public policy organizations,” he wrote, for the proposition that the current process has “gone too far,” ensuring costly “obstacles and delays.”

Among the reforms Poole advocates are, again, shot clocks for filing and adjudicating legal challenges to new construction or renovation projects.

North Carolina isn’t California, which has famously wasted billions of tax dollars on a still-nascent high-speed rail project, in part because of years-long regulatory reviews. But it still takes too long to build things here. Kudos to state lawmakers for doing something about it.

John Hood is a John Locke Foundation board member. His latest books, “Mountain Folk” and “Forest Folk,” combine epic fantasy with early American history.