I WAS in Seattle on Monday, chatting to Pat Murakami, a lady who runs a small computer repair shop and does a little political agitating on the side. She's concerned about her neighbourhood, a vibrant area full of Vietnamese shops and veiled women waiting at bus stops. A few years ago, the city tried to declare parts of it “blighted”. That would have enabled it to seize people's homes and hand the land to private developers.

Mrs Murakami started a group called “Many Cultures, One Message”, to rally her neighbors to object to the proposed bulldozing. She prevailed. Or at least, the plan to knock down chunks of her neighbourhood was shelved. But she worries that the politicians and their developer chums might try again, so she wants to reform Washington state's rules on “eminent domain”, which allow local government far too much power to condemn private property.

She ran into a second little-known state law. If she prints some fliers, calls some meetings and urges her neighbours to write to their state representative demanding change, she has to register as a “grassroots lobbyist”. This rule applies to any group that spends more than $500 in any given month trying to influence the legislature. That sum includes not only cash but also anything else of value, including voluntary labour, the use of office space and so forth. In other words, it could cover nearly any grassroots group.

To comply with the law, Mrs Murakami must provide details such as the name, address and employer of everyone who helps organise her campaign or who contributes more than $25 in cash or kind to it. All this information is then made public on the internet. She must also provide monthly reports on all the group's activities and expenditures. Failure to follow the rules can result in ruinous fines--$10,000 per violation, which could mean every time she sends out a mail shot.

Mrs Murakami is suing to have this law overturned. It has a chilling effect on free speech and free association, she reckons. If the first amendment means anything, it surely protects the right of Americans to discuss politics with their neighbours. Many of the people who support Mrs Murakami's group are recent refugees from autocratic regimes. If supporting a cause means having their personal details published, they would rather not get involved. Also, the rules are so complex and unclear that you need to hire a lawyer to understand them. This is something small voluntary groups like “Many Cultures” cannot afford.

All states regulate professional lobbyists; that is, paid agents who communicate directly with politicians in the hope of swaying them. Fair enough. But a new report from the Institute for Justice, a libertarian group, reveals that 36 states also impose restrictions on “grassroots lobbying”. A few even threaten criminal sanctions for those who violate such rules: in Alabama, the maximum penalty is an incredible 20 years in jail. Because few things offend politicians more than the sight of citizens banding together to petition them with grievances.