.
From Solomon's Yoke to the Income
Tax |
| [Reprinted from a
pamphlet published by the Henry Regnery Company, 1947] |
When the inquisitional methods of the Internal Revenue Bureau become
particularly irritating, you might look to the Bible for a bit of
comfort. In the Old Testament -- I Kings, Chapter 12 -- you will learn
something about tax-collecting that will reconcile you to the worst
Washington may put upon you.
It is told that when Rehoboam, son of Solomon, was being installed as
the new king of Israel, the assembled proletarians begged that they be
relieved of the "yoke" his father had suffered them to bear.
Now the "yoke" which all peoples of all times have complained
about is the cost of maintaining the political establishment, a cost
which we sophisticates have given the high-sounding name of taxation. In
the direct days of old it was called a "yoke"; and since there
was little commerce on which to lay levies (indirect taxation), we must
assume that the "yoke" of Solomon was the appropriation of
part of a man's produce or income, something like that provided for by
our Sixteenth Amendment. Rehoboam, after shilly-shallying for three
days, answered the plea of the people thus: "Whereas my father did
lade you with a heavy yoke, I will add to your yoke: my father hath
chastised you with whips, but I will chastise you with scorpions."
So, when the agent of the I. R. B. becomes nasty, if not positively
insulting, because you failed to include in your income report the
gratuities which, as a waiter or beautician, you depend upon for your
livelihood, it would be good to remember that his forebear might have
chastised you with scorpions for your delinquency. It is easier to
suffer indignities than to do as a considerable segment of Israel did:
they met Rehoboam's chief tax-collector, Hadoram, with such a hail of
stones "that he died." These people were not letting their
property go without a struggle. They had a sense of self-respect.
The political business, then, of appropriating the production of the
citizenry did not begin in 1913 A.D., nor even in 1861, when Lincoln
resorted to it, for the first time in this country, as a war measure.
Antiquarians find mention of it in the annals of Egypt, as far back as
1580 B.C. In those days, it, appears, income taxes were levied by the
Grand Vizier on -- believe it or not -- public officials only; drawing
upon our knowledge of politics, we must infer that the officials, who
could not possibly have paid the taxes out of their own production, were
tax-gatherers in the first instance, deriving their living from what
they did not turn over to the Grand Vizier, which is just the opposite
of modern procedure. Gibbon makes mention of the use of racks and
scourges to induce truthful income reports in ancient Rome, a practice
which lasted until the fourth century of the modern era. So, with all
these precedents, with the records of Biblical tithes before them, to
say nothing of the Roman estimo, the French dixieme, the
English tenth, the wonder is that the American government waited until
it was in business seventy-two years before it instituted the first
income tax measure. What kept the politicians continent for so long a
time?
The income tax came in for consideration at the Constitutional
Convention. One would assume that Alexander Hamilton, the genius of
centralization, would be for it because of the power this form of
taxation vests in the political institution. He was preeminently the
engineer of the new State. While Madison and Jay concerned themselves
with political theory, with the niceties of logic which serve as moral
background for the State, he applied himself to the problem of making it
work. He emphasized the fact that the functioning power of the State
would be in proportion to the amount of wealth the citizens could be
forced to pour into its machinery. He made no bones about it and called
upon the usual Hobbesian "law and order" arguments in support
of unrestrained taxing power. He opposed vigorously the efforts of the
decentralizers, the states' rights advocates, to write into the proposed
Constitution a limitation on the federal government's power to levy
internal taxes. Why, then, was he willing to give up on the taxation of
incomes?
The two kinds of levies which are clearly direct, in that they are
collected from the payer directly and not through the medium of
merchandise prices, are income and land taxes. Hamilton says little in
the Federalist on income taxes, confining himself to the
observation that in the young country this source of revenue promised
hardly enough to meet expenses, and that even in England, with a
considerable number of large incomes, it yielded little on account of
the difficulty of collecting it. With respect to land taxes, he would
have been confronted with opposition on two fronts, had he advocated
them. In the first place, the strength for ratification came mainly from
the large landholders, who were naturally opposed to taxation of that
kind. On the other hand, opposition to ratification was strong among the
farmers, whose deep-rooted fear of a tax on their small holdings has
always predisposed them against centralized authority; if such taxes
could be imposed only by local authorities, over whom they felt they
could exercise control, their antipathy toward the proposed federal
government might be mitigated. At any rate, as Hamilton said, in an
agricultural economy land values are low and a tax on them would profit
the State but little. The astute politician passed over the land tax
also.
The proponents of the new Constitution generally supported the fiscal
policies of Hamilton, since these were in line with the aristocratic
form of government they favored. A tax on incomes, particularly a
graduated one, is an immediate threat to the wealthy; as will be shown
later, its ultimate effect is to lower the wage level of the workers,
but the first to feel the pinch are those' with larger incomes. Since
the delegates were mainly of this class, or were lawyers tied in with
them, it was to be expected that an income tax would receive short
shrift at this convention. Furthermore, most of the delegates, as
Charles A. Beard has shown, were possessed of a considerable amount of
Continental paper, and it was not likely that they would favor the
taxing away of the profits which they hoped to realize from the expected
funding. Nor were they by conviction inclined toward a policy of
leveling, toward anything suggesting egalitarianism, which is insinuated
in income taxation. From every point of view, they were, like Hamilton,
strong for consumption taxes. Therefore, Article, I, section 5 of the
Constitution reads:
"Representatives and direct taxes shall be
apportioned among the several states which may be included within the
Union according to their respective numbers.
No
capitation or other direct tax shall be laid unless in proportion to
the census
"
Despite the long legalistic debate over the meaning of this Article at
the time the Sixteenth Amendment was incubating, the intent of the
delegates who framed or favored it, particularly when one takes into
consideration their general political philosophy, is quite clear. It
definitely expressed their fear of property confiscation by majority
rule. Should any Congress fall into the hands of "democrats"
-- a name which in those days had the connotation currently contained in
the name "bolsheviks" -- this provision would make it
incumbent on them to tax according to population, not according to
incomes. The majority could not tax the minority without taxing
themselves, and the populous commercial states of the north could not
discriminate against the sparsely settled and feudalistic south. That
is, the rich could not be singled out for spoliation.
It was this obvious intent of the Founders which plagued the advocates
of the income tax; for years they tried to get around it by statute, but
in the end they had to call on a change in the Constitution. It was only
thus that the "democrats" could undo the tenet which the
Fathers thought they had copper riveted into our fiscal policy. The
opening wedge came by way of war; both the Union and the Confederacy
found that taxes on consumption are not enough to pay the costs of a
destructive conflict. The 1861 modest federal levy on incomes was kept
in force, though altered several times, until the opposition corralled
enough strength in 1872 to have it dropped. In 1894, during the "Cleveland
depression," another income tax law was enacted; this created quite
a stir, especially in the courts, and in the following year it was
declared unconstitutional. A tax on the incomes of corporations was
imposed in 1898, again as a war measure, and the Supreme Court ruled
this a purely excise tax and therefore constitutional.
'The "democrats" were getting on. The depressions of 1873 and
1893 had stirred up a lot of discontent, and with the discontent came
reform movements, polemics, a third party, soap-box panaceas and much
mud- slinging. The post-Civil War period was characterized by the growth
of both corporations and individual fortunes; this provided the "friend
of the people" with a windmill on which to break a lance and attain
heroship. He took to "trust busting" and "soak the rich"
taxes. It was not shown how either scheme would prosper the poor, nor
was it necessary, for the mob wanted a culprit, not a syllogism. So, in
1909, a new tax on corporation incomes was attached to the Payne-Aldrich
tariff act. President Taft, who knew his law, was doubtful of its
constitutionality and urged that the whole matter of income taxes be
settled once and for all by constitutional amendment. It was said that
he did not want to weaken the prestige of the Supreme Court by a
possible reversal; it is also said that the opposition to the proposed
amendment favored the move because they thought they could prevent
ratification in the states and thus kill income taxation for good.
However, in 1913 the Sixteenth Amendment became basic law in the United
States. It reads:
"The Congress shall have the 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."
A third of a century has passed since this major change in our fiscal
policy was inaugurated. Comparison of the effect on our social and
political structure with the arguments pro and con during the long years
of debate shows that neither the fears of its opponents nor the hopes of
its proponents have been realized; that is because, as we see now, the
basic principle at issue was missed by both sides. The controversy was
constantly put on the basis of rich against the poor, while, as things
turned out, it was in reality a struggle of State against Society.
Certainly the rich have suffered from the income tax; but so have the
poor, and in proportion to their incomes, more so.
In the fiscal year 1894 the customs receipts came (in round figures) to
$132,000,000; the total federal receipts amounted to some $300,000,000.
That is, of the total federal income, customs receipts accounted for
forty-four percent. In the fiscal year 1947 the customs receipts came to
$494,000,000, while total receipts ran up to nearly forty-five billions.
Thus, while customs receipts have nearly quadrupled (which is due to the
increase in population and the devaluation of money, not to a 'relative
increase in imports), the yield from this source dropped in importance
from forty-four to a little over one percent of federal revenue. The
latter fact is of significance and should be considered in relation to
our fiscal policy. However, it is interesting to note in passing, that
tariffs were not dropped, as the free traders anticipated, for the
simple reason that the State is not inclined to trade one source of
power for another; it grabs both.
Duties are paid only on goods which come into the country; that which
is kept out yields nothing to the treasury. Hence, if income taxes were
not available, the State would have been compelled by its fiscal needs
to encourage imports. Tariffs would have been kept below the point of
exclusion. The current protective policy would have been impossible, and
Congress would have been forced to go in for a "tariffs for revenue
only" policy. Thus, the expectation of the advocates of the income
tax, that it would make for lower tariffs and a lower price level, was a
false one. On the contrary, the relative unimportance to the treasury of
customs receipts was the fillip needed by protectionism. Not long after
the birth of the Sixteenth Amendment the tariff walls started reaching
for the sky. Now we have quotas, too, so that we may have less and pay
more. Furthermore, a treasury fattened by income taxation makes possible
the subsidization of domestic producers, particularly farmers, and the
price level is correspondingly raised. As for the lack of a foreign
market for our goods, due to our tariff policy, that is overcome by the
sending of dollars abroad -- we have so many dollars, thanks to the
income tax -- so that foreigners can buy our goods with our own money;
that, of course, gives us jobs, so that out of our increased wages we
can pay more income taxes.
In brief, the current idiocy of creating scarcities and higher prices
was induced and made possible by income taxation, and the "soak the
rich" enthusiasm has reacted sorely on the poor.
Then there was the pollyannish hope that taxing "bloated"
fortunes would make for a diffusion of wealth. The best that the current
populism could offer on this account was public charity during "hard
times," although it is doubtful that the most dogmatic of that cult
envisioned anything like the dole-system inaugurated during the 1930s.
The general impression was that if the government got hold of the money,
the public (meaning the poor) would somehow get at it. That the
political structure would absorb the greatest portion of what it
appropriated probably never occurred to the energumens, and nobody
seemed aware of the possibility that this structure might even dip its
hands into the pay envelopes of the poor. The phrase in the Sixteenth
Amendment "from whatever source derived" might have suggested
a payroll withholding tax, as well as a social security tax; but it
didn't. Hatred and envy have a logic of their own.
The income tax, like all taxes, bears most heavily on the lowest
incomes, directly and indirectly. Whatever is taken from the wage earner
must depress his standard of living. Perhaps it deprives him of only his
marginal satisfactions, like an occasional cigar or a pair of Sunday
shoes. The relative importance of this to him is far greater than the
curtailment of luxuries which a heavier tax on large incomes might make
necessary. And since there are many more poor than rich, the aggregate
of these deprivations creates a considerable dent in the economy of the
nation.
Indirectly, however, the poor suffer to an even greater though
indeterminate extent. That is because the income tax is in fact, though
not in name, a tax on capital. We see this when we reflect that capital
consists of savings invested in production. Capital is a machine, a
railroad, a stock of goods, or even a desk, some law books and an
education. Now, before a man can put aside any of his resources for such
things, before he can make an investment in further production, he must
have a livelihood. Capital is savings, what is left over after one has
taken care of needs and wants. That is why we include in a capital
inventory those accumulations which can be put into capital, but which
are not in themselves productive instruments: like money and bonds. The
bookkeeper makes the distinction between "fixed" and "liquid"
capital, but in essence both are savings which are, or can be, put to
production. Even the worker's bank deposits are potential capital, or
the insurance company's excess of premiums over expenses, for such
savings are thus made available to the enterpriser for productive use.
But, you cannot save what you do not have. You cannot put to work that
part of your income which the State takes from you. Hence, a tax on
incomes must reduce the aggregate of savings which constitute the
capital structure of the country. It is just as much a tax on capital as
would be the confiscation of a machine or a length of railroad track.
How can the condition of the worker, of the man who has nothing to sell
but his labor power, be improved by the political absorption of savings
which might have been put into machinery, ships, railroads or other
means of effecting abundance? Do fewer factories provide more jobs? Does
less output increase wages? Or lower prices? But, when the income tax
was being advocated, envy and bitterness put a blackout on all reason,
and politicians took advantage of the general opinion that the rich are
rich because the poor are poor, and a tax on incomes would somehow do
away with that inequity. It did not. Since 1913 the country has not been
lacking in recessions and depressions, and in the 1930s its most serious
case of unemployment was accompanied by the most unprecedented levies on
incomes, reaching into the lowest earnings. This is not to say that
there is a cause and effect relationship between widespread poverty and
income taxation; yet the advocates of the fiscal reform saw in it a cure
for the social malady.
The ability to pay argument also came up. This tax formula is always
advocated by men with the loftiest pretensions to character, and yet it
is basically immoral. Implied in it is the idea of an aristocracy of the
politically favored. Those who have the most are the prime beneficiaries
of government and ought to pay on the line for what they get. This may
or may not be so; but if it is, then government is an instrument of
exploitation of the many for the few and should be accorded the respect
one gives to a robber or his accomplice. If the affluent are so because
of special privileges granted by the government, then their ability to
pay for the services rendered should be taxed one hundred percent. On
the other hand, if their accumulations are due to industry and
frugality, then they have in that rendered services to their fellow men,
and their debt to society has been liquidated. But the ability-to-pay
formula makes no distinction between fortunes acquired through
production and fortunes acquired through privilege; the monopolist is
lumped with the competitive merchant and manufacturer, according to the
amounts they have. If a moral distinction were made, the government
would be under the necessity of explaining why it grants privileges in
the first place. Lacking that distinction, ability-to-pay is ethically
on a par with the highwayman's take-where-the-taking-is-good.
Opposition to the income tax -- leaving out the legal question, which
was decided by the amendment -- stressed these points: it is class
legislation and therefore contrary to the spirit of democracy; it is an
invasion of property rights and therefore destructive of the American
concept of liberty; it is inquisitorial in operation and therefore must
encourage immoral practices; it is unnecessary because import and excise
taxes can well take care of the legitimate needs of government; it would
destroy the independence of the states because the taxing of their bonds
would weaken their credit; it is socialistic.
From the long point of view this last count is the most important. The
specter of socialism pervaded the debate. Yet, in reading the speeches
and articles of the opposition, one is struck by the prevailing naivete
as to the nature of socialism. At that time this ideology was identified
with the never-never land of Bellamy's Looking Backward, with
the promise of plenty for all and a milieu of general saintliness. To
attain this heaven all we have to do is to abolish and confiscate
property. In the popular mind the confiscation of fortunes spelled
better working conditions, supplemented with political charity. To those
with property the immorality of confiscation loomed large, although one
feels that this was a rationalization of the personal inconvenience they
would be called upon to suffer. That socialism means a concentration of
political power, a new form of absolutism, does not seem to have been
recognized at that time. This is understandable. It was many years
before socialism showed its hand in practice, and only a few thinkers
could visualize the current Russia or the late Italy or Germany.
The legal and political talent arrayed against the income tax was
steeped in the Hamiltonian tradition of government by an aristocracy of
talents and wealth. They and their clients had done well under the
political control they had exercised for a century, and they could put
up a strong case for the social beneficence of "captains of
industry." Had not the country grown in size, strength and
importance under their regime? Had it not grown prosperous? They were
for more of that prosperity. What they feared from the income tax was a
shift in the incidence of power from themselves to the "mob."
They did not fear the State. They did not recognize in the proposed
fiscal measure the fertilizing agent of a new dominant class, the
political, operating in its own right and for its own advantage. The
mutation of the "public servant" into a master was
inconceivable to a people with an abiding faith in "checks and
balances." Democratic fetishes blinded them to the reality of
socialism.
Karl Marx developed an elaborate and intricate theory to prove that
socialism could come only by way of violent revolution. In this, as in
his other theories, events have proved him a false prophet. We see now
that the transition from private capitalism to State capitalism -- which
is the reality of socialism -- is more easily and more certainly
effected by the instrument of the income tax. Socialistic theorists of
the early part of this century hit upon this fact, and in the platforms
of their political parties came out for more and higher taxes,
particularly of the direct, kind, as the means for undermining private
capitalism. They were right. In the light of what has happened in this
country and in England, we know that in highly industrialized countries
the income tax is the prerequisite for socialism. Even where violence
marked the final transition, as in Germany and Italy, the State's power
to tap the productive power of the country was in effect for some time
before the dramatic climax. This is necessarily so. Violence is merely
an expression of the general disaffection caused by a depressed economy,
to which the State's absorption and misuse of capital is contributory.
The State cannot take over the economy until it has the strength to do
so, and its strength is in proportion to the production it is in a
position to absorb.
In this country the income tax came first by way of war. Another war
again brought it to the fore, and it is doubtful whether in spite of all
the agitation for it, the income tax would have become a reality but for
the need of revenue resulting from war. Nobody (except a few theoretical
socialists) advocated the income tax as a means of abolishing private
capital, and nobody had any idea that the revenues from this source
would be put to such schemes as the Reconstruction Finance Corporation,
the Tennessee Valley Authority, the Home Owners' Loan Corporation or any
of the current socialistic ventures of the American State. Yet, none of
these ventures would have been possible without the Sixteenth Amendment.
The story of the telegraph is significant. In the early days of the Post
Office its annual deficits were a constant strain on the government's
limited income from excise and import taxes; hence, when Morse offered
his invention, Congress, even after it had made him an appropriation for
an experimental line, turned him down. If deficit-spending had been made
possible by a tax on incomes, the telegraph and the telephone and
probably the railroads would have been nationalized from the start. But,
you cannot spend what you do not have or cannot lay your hands on.
Once the economic power of the country can be siphoned into the coffers
of the State, the politicians will find "emergencies" enough
to justify increasing draughts. A depression or a drought, the pursuance
of a foreign policy or the furtherance of some eleemosynary scheme,
anything will do so long as the public can be forced to make the
investment and meet the operational expenses. And why not? The State
consists of human beings, and like all others they seek to satisfy their
desires with the minimum of effort. To the politician the minimum of
effort is the security of the public payroll, and the larger the payroll
the better the security. The income tax thus becomes the means toward
the more abundant life - for the politician. Of course, one must put the
matter on a high moral plane, and this is done by identifying the good
of the State with the good of the individual. The person disappears in
the collectivity. Economic theory, proved by calculus, is adduced to
demonstrate the enlargement of individual dignity by its eradication,
and all in all a socialistic "climate" is produced. But, when
you strip the verbiage from the fact, you find that the residue consists
of jobs free from the rigorous demands of the competitive market place.
With the pecuniary emoluments come the intangible values of prestige and
power. It is all made possible by the income tax.
Private capital is doomed, not only by the absorption of it through the
tax, but more so by the ruinous competition to which it is subjected by
politicalized capital. The State does not tax itself; it need not worry
about insurance, depreciation and obsolescence, or operational losses,
since it can always draw upon its taxing power to offset such items. But
they are costs which the private capitalist must consider or face the
consequences; hence in competition with the State the cards are stacked
against him. The State takes the position that it operates a service in
the public interest, not a business, and whatever losses it sustains is
the public's gain; for that reason the demands of commercial accountancy
do not apply to it. This convenient rationale simply means that private
enterprise is driven out of the field by the capital taken from it in
the first place. The case of private power and light companies is in
point.
The discouragement of private capital, however, is far more
fundamental; it is rooted in the nature of man. The motivation of human
endeavor is the satisfaction of desires, and in proportion to the
enjoyment of his output does man labor. His desires are without known
limit; every gratification arouses a new appetite, perhaps for an
imaginary pleasure, perhaps for some device which will save him effort
in the broadening of his circumstances. But the expectation of
possession and enjoyment of his output is the necessary condition for
his labors. If the inviolability of his right to private property is
generally observed, his ingenuity and industry are boundless. It is
under that condition, so far as it has prevailed, that all progress has
been made, that specialization and exchange replaced the
self-sufficiency of primitive living, that gregariousness became
civilization. On the other hand, to the extent that private property has
been denied, to a like extent has retrogression set in. Private
capitalism makes a steam engine; State capitalism makes pyramids.
The slave is a poor producer only because the returns for his labor are
fixed at the lowest level of subsistence; when emancipation assures him
of greater returns, he proves himself as efficient as the wages warrant.
For like reason, production is low where banditry prevails. Even if the
confiscation of property is put on the presumably high good-of-society
plane, even if it is sanctified with theory and regularized by law, the
fact remains that production will drop in proportion to the
confiscation. There is no getting away from it. It is not only that the
producer consciously lays down on the job when he knows that no good,
for himself, will come of his labor; it is that all production is
automatically determined by consumption. We see this daily in the action
of the market place. When real wages are high, production is high, and
vice versa. One worker coming to market with a basket full of good
things will spur other workers to produce an equivalent of good things
for exchange. That is, labor employs labor, and ultimately' one producer
receives his wages from another. The unemployed worker, the one whose
basket is empty, puts nobody to work, and this is so regardless of the
cause of unemployment. Whether from laziness or circumstances over which
he has no control, whether he has been waylaid by robbers or
tax-collectors, the fact remains that his basket is empty or partially
empty, and the whole productive machinery slows down accordingly. It is
automatic.
It is common knowledge that as the levies on income mount, the business
man deliberately limits his enterprise. It is common knowledge that war
workers calculated the net return from overtime work, after the
withholding tax, and unpatriotically -- but rationally -- decided that
leisure was preferable. It is common knowledge that highly skilled
workers, like actors, engineers and managers, have refused engagements
which would throw their earnings into higher tax brackets. But such
willful curtailment is as nothing compared with the mechanical
constriction' of production brought on by the legalized draughts on the
market place. It is by what is put into it, not by what is taken out of
it, that this great instrument of civilization operates. Robbing the
market place of one percentage of energy must slow it down, even though
imperceptibly, and increasing the percentage of defalcation cannot have
the effect of speeding it up. Yet that is exactly what the bureaucrat
promises when the market place he has been sapping is unable to provide
the satisfactions expected of it. Concocting another plausibility, he
adds unto himself another agency and lays another percentage on
production to defray the costs. But production does not increase by this
further denial of private property. So, the politician is compelled to
try coercion, to invade personal liberties just as' he has invaded
private property, and you have socialism. Even then there is no
improvement in production because man works only to satisfy his desires.
The socialistic and anti-social character of the income tax is
inherent. Imbedded in the philosophy of the law is the destructive
principle, so that once it is in effect the economic and political
consequences are inevitable. The principle of the income tax is the
denial of private property. All other taxes are apologized for on the
ground of necessity; the costs of the political establishment must be
met by the citizenry, and so far as possible the unpleasantness is
minimized by surreptition. But the income tax openly and unashamedly
proclaims the prior right of the State to all production; that which the
State does not take is a concession (not a right) to the individual.
This point is emphasized by the item of exemptions in the law.
Translated into reality, these exemptions declare: "Thus much thou
shalt have for thy keep; thus much more for the support of thy wife; and
for nourishment of thine offspring, until they too enter into the
service of the' State, an allowance is made; thou mayest deduct also for
the maintenance of thy health and for the legitimate costs of thy
business, and a percentage for thy favorite charities. All the rest
belongs to the State, by right. And, mind thee, these concessions the
State may alter or revoke at will, from year to year."
There is nothing in the Sixteenth Amendment, there is nothing in the
principle of the income tax, which puts a limit on the amount the State
may demand, and hence the implication is clear that the individual's
absolute right of private property is denied. It is a conditional right,
at best; a temporary trusteeship. That this is so in fact, if not in the
wording of the law, is demonstrated by the progressive increases in the
levies, in the lowering of exemptions, in the extension of the law to
practically every pocket in the land. The denial of the inviolability of
private property must lead to the denial of private property. It is in
the phrase "from whatever source derived" that the State's
prior claim to all production is unequivocally asserted. Nothing and
nobody are exempt. It is because of that all-inclusive claim, and not
because it desires a partnership in their illegal or immoral businesses,
that the State levies on the incomes of gamblers, thieves, prostitutes,
and monopolists. It is because of that all-inclusive claim that the
State justifies its use of "whips and scorpions."
The theory of republican government, that its powers are derived from
the will of the people, is no safeguard against this denial of private
property. Assuming that the Sixteenth Amendment at the time of its
enactment did express the will of the people, every one of them, the
substance and effect of income taxation was to destroy the will of any
subsequent generation for modification or revocation. It is unlike any
other law. For the denial of the right of private property is in essence
the denial of the right of the individual to himself. He is no longer a
free person if he is not free to keep and enjoy the products of his
labors. He becomes a thing, not much different from a cow. Gradually the
human faculty of making adjustment with environment robs him of the
sense of choice, which is the reality of freedom, and he sinks into the
slough of wardship. To put it another way, is the slave any less a slave
because he voluntarily entered into bondage? The power of choice so
exercised leaves him as he becomes conditioned to a life in which his
will plays no part, and the thought of freedom must in time be
obliterated from his consciousness. The right to own is an human
indispensable element of human dignity.
Consequently, as the income tax takes more and more production, so does
it proportionately weaken the moral fiber of the people. They come to
lean on the State, the one propertied "person," just as the
bonded servant leans on his master. They demand doles and subsidies, and
willingly exchange their conscience for the, gift of sustenance, as at
the ballot booth. Wardship under the State, by way of socialized
medicine, unemployment insurance, public housing, gratuities for not
producing, bounties of one kind or another, becomes the normal way of
living, and in the habit of charity the pride of personality is lost. It
would be nigh impossible today to promote a movement to abolish the
income tax, simply because such abolition would deprive the banker of
the value of investments which are guaranteed by this revenue of the
State, would make impossible the subsidies by which manufacturers and
farmers thrive, and would put to productive work the millions who feed
at the public trough either as State-employes or State-dependents. Would
war veterans favor a reform that would deprive them of bonuses?
Socialism ferments in the minds of de-propertied people.
Moral deterioration is a progressive process. Just as a worn part in a
machine will affect contiguous parts and thus affect the entire
mechanism, so the loss of one moral value must ultimately undermine the
sense of morality. The income tax, by attacking the dignity of the
individual at the very base, inevitably leads to the practice of
perjury, fraud, deception, and bribery. Avoidance or evasion of the
levies has become the common concern, and talents of a high order are
employed in the attempt to save something from the clutches of the State
People who in their private lives are above reproach will resort to the
meanest devices to effect some saving and will even brag of their
ingenuity. Lumping together the various known devices, they come under
the general head of lying; sometimes it is legal, sometimes illegal, but
it is all lying. Now, the habit of lying cannot be contained, and once a
people get into the habit in the matter of making up tax returns, it
spills over into their other affairs with facility. Income taxation has
not improved the moral standards of America.
But what can you expect when the State takes the place of God?
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