Sumerian proverb inscribed on a clay tablet, c.2400 BC: “You
can have a lord, you can have a king, but the man to fear is the
tax-collector.” Little changes. Presently, the State of NJ is demanding a payment from me for 2011 that
my bank statement shows was paid at the appropriate time. Perhaps Hurricane
Sandy had something to do with the records mix-up. I should be able to clear up
that one. Meantime, quarterly local property taxes loom; NJ has the highest in
the nation, as it has for many years.
One of the charming chores of the new year all of us face in
the US
is assembling data for federal taxes due on April 15. Federal, state, and local
taxes are all up this year over last, but enjoy the current rates while they last, for
they are headed much higher still. Since governments at all levels are plainly
incapable of restraining spending (and since We the People are plainly
incapable of electing any that are capable), taxes must go up. A lot. (Massive
inflation to reduce the real value of the debt is the only other alternative,
but the net effect of that – lower real personal income – is much the same.)
So, this is a golden era for taxpayers – at least in the current century.
It has been a round 100 years since the 16th
Amendment to the U.S. Constitution went into effect. There is a notion in some
quarters that the income tax was unconstitutional prior to the amendment’s
adoption in 1913. This is not quite right. Congress had the power to lay taxes,
but there was a catch on “direct taxes”:
“No Capitation, or other direct, Tax shall be laid, unless in Proportion
to the Census or Enumeration herein before directed to be taken.” A direct tax
is a tax on people or property; an indirect tax is a tax on an event such as a
sales tax, excise tax, or tariff. In 1894, populists in Congress approved a 2%
income tax (the first peacetime income tax enacted) on incomes over $4000, a
limit that exempted 90% of the population. It was not a revenue measure, since
the government ran a surplus, but a fairness issue. (Old themes recur with
frequency in taxation matters.) In 1895, however, the Supreme Court ruled in Pollock vs. Farmers Loan and Trust Company
that income tax on certain types of income counted as a “direct tax”; the 1894
bill hadn’t apportioned the tax among the states according to the census, so it
was nullified. This apportionment requirement was an annoyance to legislators,
so the 16th Amendment was proposed. It passed by the required
majorities of Congress and the states with surprisingly little argument. The
Senate vote was 77-0, the House 318-14. The Amendment reads:
“The Congress shall have
power to lay and collect taxes on incomes, from whatever source derived,
without apportionment among the several States, and without regard to any
census or enumeration.”
It took effect early in 1913, in the last days of the Taft
Administration. Later that year, during the Wilson Administration, an apportion-less
income tax was levied of 1% at $20,000 and 7% on
incomes above $500,000 (more than $10 million 2013 dollars). Rates varied enormously
over the next decades, but until World War Two, most income-earners didn’t earn
enough to be required to file; as late as 1939, the height of the pre-War New
Deal, only 5% of the population filed income tax returns.
Today, of course, nearly
everyone files, and even those who don’t owe “income tax” still pay payroll taxes,
sales taxes, communications taxes, energy taxes, property taxes (even renters
pay these indirectly), transfer taxes, vice taxes, and so on.
Once again, this is nothing
new. A Sumerian historian on another tablet complains that a shepherd has to
pay five shekels to the ishakku (local king) of Lagash for each white fleece. The ishakku
gets five shekels (and one more to his vizier) for each divorce. The perfume
maker owes 5 shekels to the ishakku (plus one to the vizier and one to the
steward) for each batch (it’s not clear what quantity). When a Lagashian died, he
tells us, officials would show up to collect an inheritance tax of barley,
bread, beer, and furnishings from his grieving relatives. The list goes on.
On occasion, a political
leader will get uneasy about such exactions. In the second century AD, the Roman
emperor Marcus Aurelius realized that the tax burden was exceeding the capacity
of the citizenry to carry it. Accordingly, he admonished his troops who wanted
a bonus for their hard fighting on the Rhine and Danube,
“Anything you receive over and above your regular wages must be exacted from
the blood of your parents and relations.” Nevertheless, to meet those regular
wages, he sold off imperial furniture, jewels, and treasures (including his
wife’s silks) in an auction rather than raise taxes. I don’t expect any such
thing from contemporary politicians. (Marcus did debase the silver denarius to
pay off debts in cheaper coins though – which is to say he opted for
inflation.)
It could be
argued that, in between the rules of extravagant tyrants at least, the Romans got fair
value for their denarii. Whether or not we do ultimately doesn’t matter. We
will pay them regardless. It’s hard to improve
on Ben Franklin’s famous remark on the subject, so I’ll simple quote it; "Our
new Constitution is now established, and has an appearance that promises
permanency; but in this world nothing can be said to be certain, except death
and taxes." Margaret Mitchell in Gone with the Wind agreed: "Death, taxes and childbirth!
There's never any convenient time for any of them." At least I don’t have
to worry about one of those.