On free-market capitalism, political spending, and Jane Mayer’s ‘Dark Money.’

On free-market capitalism, political spending, and Jane Mayer’s ‘Dark Money.’

So-called libertarian economic philosophy — which has been having a larger and larger influence on mainstream politics over the past few decades — doesn’t make sense.  Which is too bad.  I like the basic ideas behind capitalism.

And I love liberty.

But there are major logical inconsistencies in the popular conception of free market capitalism.

Economist Robert Reich recently published Saving Capitalism to address some of these misconceptions.  In the first few pages of his book, he dismisses the distinction between free markets and government intervention:

Reich_SavingCapitalism_Book_v3The question typically left to debate is how much intervention is warranted.  Conservatives want a smaller government and less intervention; liberals want a larger and more activist government.  This has become the interminable debate, the bone of contention that splits left from right in America and in much of the rest of the capitalist world.

But the prevailing view, as well as the debate it has spawned, is utterly false.  There can be no “free market” without government.  The “free market” does not exist in the wilds beyond the reach of civilization.  Competition in the wild is a contest for survival in which the largest and strongest typically win.  Civilization, by contrast, is defined by rules; rules create markets, and governments generate the rules.

A market — any market — requires that government make and enforce the rules of the game.  In most modern democracies, such rules emanate from legislatures, administrative agencies, and courts.  Government doesn’t “intrude” on the “free market.”  It creates the market.

Some would have you believe that, in a world of free-market capitalism, producers would extract oil from the ground however they want, process it however they want, sell it to whomever they want, keep the entirety of their spoils, then spend that money however they want.

This is, sadly, not what would happen in a world free of government intervention.

Instead, roving warlords would conquer the oil reserves.  Or the refinery.  There would be no money, so oil would have to be bartered for other goods.  But someone bringing huge quantities of oil to the market would likely be murdered, their possessions stolen.  It would be difficult to maintain inequality as extreme as we have in the contemporary United States, because the wealthy would pay huge sums to employ bodyguards.  Greater concentrations of wealth would lure greater extremes of violence.

But this is not the world that self-proclaimed libertarians envision.  Instead they support rules that favor the already wealthy; they claim that the peculiar set of rules they favor is free-market capitalism.  It is not.

This contrast is lucidly described in a passage from Matthew Desmond’s Evicted.  He focuses on the housing rental market, but his analysis applies equally well to many realms of our economy:

unnamed (3)Those who profit from the current situation — and those indifferent to it — will say that the housing market should be left alone to regulate itself.  They don’t really mean that.  Exploitation within the housing market relies on government support.  It is the government that legitimizes and defends landlords’ right to charge as much as they want; that subsidizes the construction of high-end apartments, bidding up rents and leaving the poor with even fewer options; that pays landlords when a family cannot, through onetime or ongoing housing assistance; that forcibly removes a family at landlords’ request by dispatching armed law enforcement officers; and that records and publicizes evictions, as a service to landlords and debt collection agencies.  Just as the police and the prison have worked to triage the ill effects of rising joblessness in the inner city (like social unrest or the growth of the underground economy), civil courts, sheriff deputies, and homeless shelters manage the fallout of rising housing costs among the urban poor and the privatization of the low-income housing market.

Without government intervention, the plight of the urban poor would not be nearly so miserable as it is today.  Landlords could not stake claims to huge numbers of properties throughout a city, because the impoverished would simply claim a place to live and retaliate with violence if a landlord asked them to leave.

This is the basic reason why I support progressive income taxes (and progressive wealth taxes, too).  I think that people should fund government to the extent that their life would become worse without it.  The poor are kept poor by our existing rules.  They cannot take the things they need.  I think they should pay a negative tax, i.e. receive an income supplement.  The wealthier someone is, the more likely that person would be murdered and robbed without the protections of government.  I think it is eminently reasonable for the wealthy to pay a higher percentage to maintain our current order.

9780385535595Of course, several extremely wealthy people do not agree with me.  As Jane Mayer documents in Dark Money, these individuals have used their wealth to promulgate a philosophy very different from my own.  Everybody knows that politicians can be bought — and cheaply, too, with hundred thousand dollar campaign contributions often resulting in million dollar lawsuits being dropped.  Well, academics can be bought, too.  University professors expend so much effort scrabbling for grants that it was unsurprising to learn how a few targeted donations led to steadfast ideological purity throughout the recipients’ careers.

These wealthy individuals (the Koch brothers, among others) self-describe as free market capitalists.  They claim to favor extremely limited governance, but their actions bely these claims.  In Mayer’s words,

Singer [who ran a hedge fund that bought “distressed debt in economically failing countries at a discount” then took “aggressive legal action to force the strapped nations, which had expected their loans to be forgiven, to instead pay him back at a profit”] described himself as a Goldwater free-enterprise conservative, and he contributed generously to promoting free-market ideology, but at the same time his firm reportedly sought unusual government help in squeezing several desperately impoverished governments, a contradiction that applied to many participants in the Koch donor network.

The wealthy political donors arguing for less government intervention in the economy are precisely those people who have benefited most from government intervention.  They might argue that their position is internally consistent because they feel that the sole function of a just government is the protection of property rights.

But this is nonsense.  All property carries a history of violence — government protection of “property rights” simply chooses an arbitrary cut-off date and legitimizes all violence that occurred on or before that date, while threatening violent reprisal against those who do not respect ownership claims from after that date.

Furthermore, the environmental regulations that Charles Koch denounces are property rights.  If you own a farm and somebody comes with a gun and tells you, “Get out, it’s mine now,” it’s pretty clear that the government has not protected your property rights.  But this isn’t so different from someone coming and setting fire to your farm — you used to have it, now you don’t.  It isn’t so different from someone starting a huge fire on their own property and letting the flames spread to yours.

And it isn’t so different from someone pumping out toxic sludge just upstream of your farm.  Your land was useful — it could grow food fit for human consumption.  If someone dumps a bunch of mercury upstream, now it can’t.  Most of the value of your property is gone, just as if someone had come and set fire to it.

If a corporation buys the land adjacent to your home and puts in a concentrated animal feeding operation, again, much of the value of your property will vanish.  It’s hard to breathe near those things, and most homeowners like to breathe.

Indeed, if you run a company that digs up coal or oil for people to burn, you should expect the government to tax your industry if you care about property rights.  Because your industry is wrecking property all over the globe.  At minimum, you should expect to compensate others for the losses you’re causing — that’s if a government protecting property rights would even allow you to churn out all that toxic waste.

But not everyone agrees.  In Mayer’s words,

Jane_mayer_2008The problem for this group [of oil & coal profiteers] was that by 2008 the arithmetic of climate change presented an almost unimaginable challenge.  If the world were to stay within the range of carbon emissions that scientists deemed reasonable in order for atmospheric temperatures to remain tolerable through the mid-century, 80 percent of the fossil fuel industry’s reserves would have to stay unused in the ground.  In other words, scientists estimated that the fossil fuel industry owned roughly five times more oil, gas, and coal than the planet could safely burn.  If the government interfered with the “free market” in order to protect the planet, the potential losses for these companies were catastrophic.  If, however, the carbon from these reserves were burned wantonly without the government applying any brakes, scientists predicted an intolerable rise in atmospheric temperatures, triggering potentially irreversible global damage to life on earth.

And, the solution?  Well, the real free market solution is simply to tax negative externalities so that harmful industries can make the correct cost benefit calculations.  If producers reap all the benefits but costs are spread over the entire population, they’ll make too much of a thing.

Indeed, this is a commonly-cited rationale for capitalism: back when many people’s wealth was their livestock, partitioned land holdings was seen as a cure for the tragedy of the commons.  A major cost of raising animals is feeding them, and without private land holdings everyone has an incentive to overgraze.

So, sure, I guess there’s another answer.  We could carve up the atmosphere, trap air in discrete boxes, try to stop all diffusion between them… and then allow the Koch brothers to pump out as much carbon dioxide as they want into their own home’s air.  Presumably they would make different choices, no government regulation required.  Or die — most laboratories gas dissection-bound mice with carbon dioxide.

But these solutions would make it slightly more difficult for our country’s wealthy to continue accumulating mind-boggling quantities of money.  So they’ve chosen a different plan: buy a bunch of academics to churn out philosophical nonsense nearly as toxic as the effluents from their industrial processes.  It’s depressing that this was so successful.

But let’s face it.  Philosophy is dull.  Economics is hard.  When enough people with fancy credentials trumpet nonsense loudly enough, it seems, people will believe.

In Mayer’s words,

When these donors began their quest to remake America along the lines of their beliefs, their ideas were, if anything, considered marginal.  They challenged the widely accepted post-World War II consensus that an activist government was a force for public good.  Instead they argued for “limited government,” drastically lower personal and corporate taxes, minimal social services for the needy, and much less oversight of industry, particularly in the environmental arena.  They said they were driven by principle, but their positions dovetailed seamlessly with their personal financial interests.

On proving that elections will make you miserable.

On proving that elections will make you miserable.

sphereIn economics,  proofs often begin with the words If we consider a ball of radius R centered at the point X in R n I wrote those words so many times.  Reading them now, they sound quite strange to me.

A math course called “real analysis” was a prerequisite for economics.  Presumably real analysis would’ve taught me to write proofs, perhaps well enough that I’d understand why I wrote the words I did.  But my university had recently implemented an online registration system, and its glitchiness meant I could skip pre-reqs, and that I was able to enroll in both economics and inorganic chemistry during the 10 am to 11:30 time slot.  I attended economics except when there was a chemistry exam.  And still don’t know for certain what “real analysis” entails.

1280px-Schrodingers_cat.svg
As it happens, my wavelength was too small to actually be in both places at once … but Oncourse didn’t know that.

But I know that the word “ball,” in the world of mathematics, is a generic term for round things.  You have two dots in one dimension, a circle in two, a sphere in three, then a “ball” in four or more.

The number of dimensions is what the “n” stands for in “R n.”  In the world of economics proofs, you might have any number.  Of course, in our day to day lives, most of us are familiar with only two or three (yes, yes, physicists claim that we should understand four, because we move along three spatial axes and time.  But I can move forward and back, left and right, up and down.  I’ll continue to think of my world as three-dimensional until I learn to move with equal faculty into the future and the past).  But economists need more because they like to give each variable its own dimension.  Instead of “up and down,” a dimension in an economics proof might be the weather, the number of factories, the number of workers in a population.

Sliding along an axis can seem incredibly grim if you momentarily forget that a proof is supposed to be abstract.  It’s just an imaginary line projecting endlessly through space, but what does it mean?

homeless
A homeless man down and out in New York City. (Photo by lujoma ny)

For workers, sliding back toward zero means lives destroyed, people unemployed, hustling to pay rent, to keep the lights on, to feed their kids.  Or worse.  Alongside Primo Levi in the Buna concentration camp, the number of workers could be varied at will.  There seemed to be endless numbers of condemned to add, and each decrease meant another murdered man.

Luckily, in class we worked quickly enough that there was no time to think of that.  The professor would scrawl his solution upon the board, I’d copy it into my notes, struggling to keep up.

Or perhaps I lost you earlier.  Maybe you hadn’t realized that there even were proofs in economics.  I hadn’t, before I enrolled.  I expected only to draw crisscrossing lines, mark where they intersected, claim that should be your greeble’s price.  A “greeble” being, for some reason or other, the default name for an imaginary product for which the supply and demand can be used to determine a price.

I learned about these mythical “greebles” in high school, in an economics class that moved many-fold more slowly than the university class.  In high school there was more time to sit and wonder what a greeble was.  I drew pictures in my spiral notebook.  Most of these pictures made the greeble look like either a strange pet or a military weapon.  There were many vicious-looking weapons drawn in my high school notebooks.  I hated being there.  I wrote stories about blowing up the school.  Not that I was a violent kid.  I was already vegetarian because I hated hurting things.  But I certainly drew a lot of death and destruction.  Then, of course, the Columbine shootings happened and I had to stop drawing those pictures.  Writing those stories.  Murderous ideation was no longer safe.  Even once I’d stopped, they started sending me to the principle’s office about once a month.  That did not make me like school more.

fc old notebook cover009.jpg
One of my notebook covers from high school.  Maybe you get the idea.

From then on, at my school, even suicidal ideation was something you had to keep to yourself.  Luckily, I was a pretty happy kid.  I rarely thought about that sort of thing more than once a day.  Still don’t.

But, yes, in economics there are proofs.  One famous proof we reproduced was “Arrow’s impossibility theorem,” which states mathematically that if a population is trying to vote, they’re doomed.  There is no fair voting system that picks the most-preferred candidate out of a set of three or more.  Your options are a dictatorship or else electing some schmuck whom nobody really wants.

voting

Maybe that sounds like an argument in favor of a two-party system.  But it isn’t, not really.  If you’re worried that from a set of options the best one won’t be picked, the best solution isn’t to offer only two of the crummier options from that set.  People still won’t get what they want.  All you’ve accomplished is to blast even their illusion of a fair choice.  In a two-party system people are still doomed, but they’re so clearly doomed that you don’t even need Kenneth Arrow’s fancy proof for them to know it.

As it happens, it’s election season again.  It so often is, because “election season” seems to run approximately two years out of each four-year presidential term, and sometimes a year or more for even two-year congressional terms, and huge numbers of people devote eighty, ninety, hundred hour work weeks toward their efforts to get this dude or that dude or (finally!) this lady elected.

Jason Pruett's small cartoons of each of the U.S. presidents.
Art by Jason Pruett.

Whenever I feel bad about how long I’ve spent working on a project, I remember the number of person hours that are guaranteed to be wasted each election cycle.  Because huge numbers of people work full-time to get their preferred candidate elected, and all but one won’t win.  Maybe they console themselves by thinking at least by running, we helped change the tenor of the national debate!  But, let’s be real.  Even when fewer than a third of the populace votes for a dude, he’ll refer only to the (bizarre!) electoral college numbers and claim to have received a clear mandate for action.

Nobody cares about the platform the losers were running on.  And most everybody is guaranteed to be a loser.  Even (especially?) the voters.

Capture

My personal political inclinations include taxation to assess the fair price of business externalities, free trade, open borders, lax enforcement against possession of tools for self-harm (drugs), strict enforcement against possession of tools for other-harm (guns, automobiles), progressive income taxes such that people pay (or are reimbursed) relative to what they’d likely lose or gain if we had anarchy instead of our current government.

If I were trying to be cheeky, I’d draw a parallel between my ideas about progressive income tax and the conceptual framework behind electric potential, the idea that the energy at each point is equal to the work that would’ve been done to drag a test charge there from infinitely far away.  Instead of a field-less void somewhere far off in the distance, I imagine people being launched into their current wealth or poverty from an undifferentiated state of Hobbesian anarchy.

Donald_Trump_September_3_2015_(cropped)But maybe the physics metaphor would seem too twee.  So (a la Trump, I’m not going to say they’re weak.  But they’re weak), I won’t subject you to it.

I’m pro-genetically modified foods, anti-pesticide.  Pro-vaccination, pro-childhood nutrition, against our current quantity of medical spending.  Most doctors think there needs to be a conversation about how much the government should pay for each quality-of-life-adjusted year.  I think even that is not enough.  We need a concurrent conversation about how long humans should live.  About what we as a people consider to be the meaning of life and the best way for our spending to reflect that.  Because any threshold for how much we’ll spend on each quality-of-life-adjusted year will result in untenable costs if medical advances keep allowing people to live longer.

19820235745_9ef17f2551_zAll of which means that, yup, as ever, no politician will (or should, honestly) care about what I stand for.  I’ll vote for the old hippie commie guy in the primary (if I get to vote.  I probably won’t get to, though.  My state’s primary is scheduled relatively late), and then throw away my vote in the general election (what with our electoral college, most people’s votes are submerged at that stage.  I think there’ll be something like eight states where the vote will be close enough that all people waiting in line for their turn in the booth can delude themselves into thinking that their votes matter).

Which, again, does sound awful.  Like, isn’t there a better way?

Well, yes.  There is a better way.  There are many better ways than the strange system our country has contrived.  But at least I had the experience of jotting out the full proof to know that there is no perfect way.

(Somehow I’d deluded myself into thinking that typing this essay would make me happy.  I see now that I was wrong.)

On free-market economics & the actual meaning of words.

On free-market economics & the actual meaning of words.

CaptureDespite being rather politically liberal, I consider myself a free market economist.

(Maybe it’s unfair to self-describe as an economist, though?  I did the coursework for a master’s degree in economics… but couldn’t get a degree because I didn’t complete the residency requirement.  I was enrolled as an undergraduate at the time, and apparently would’ve needed to be enrolled as a graduate student for my coursework to count.)

Sure, there are instances where free markets don’t fare so well — the free market solution to entertainment is for people to pirate whatever they’d like to watch, hear, or read, and then for producers of those media to realize they can never turn a profit.  But for many types of commerce, free markets work great.

But, just like the term “pro-life” (I describe myself as pro-life, for instance, which can confuse people because I am a staunch supporter of women’s rights and lives), the words “free market” have taken on a political connotation that doesn’t always gel with actual meaning.

For instance, I promptly began to pout when I read the following paragraphs in James Surowiecki’s New York Review of Books article, “Why the Rich Are So Much Richer“:

CaptureThe redistributive policies [Joseph] Stiglitz advocates look pretty much like what you’d expect.  On the tax front, he wants to raise taxes on the highest earners and on capital gains, institute a carbon tax, and cut corporate subsidies.  But dealing with inequality isn’t just about taxation.  It’s also about investing.  As he puts it, “If we spent more on education, health, and infrastructure, we would strengthen our economy, now and in the future.”  So he wants more investment in schools, infrastructure, and basic research.

If you’re a free-market fundamentalist, this sounds disastrous — a recipe for taking money away from the job creators and giving it to the government, which will just waste it on bridges to nowhere.  But here is where Stiglitz’s academic work and his political perspective intersect most clearly.  The core insight of Stiglitz’s research has been that, left on their own, markets are not perfect, and that smart policy can nudge them in better directions.

A strange turn of phrase.

Sure, it’s reasonable to imagine a free-market fundamentalist kvetching over increased taxes on high earners and capital gains (progressive taxation means that, for anyone outside the bottom tax bracket, choosing to work one additional hour produces income taxed at a higher percentage than the average tax rate being applied to your current income.  So the claim is that progressive taxation causes people to work less.  This claim is unverified, though, and indeed you could make an equally plausible argument for the opposite: if people want a certain post-tax income, raising tax rates will cause them to work more in order to earn that same amount).

But it’s very strange to write that a free-market fundamentalist would consider it “disastrous” to cut corporate subsidies.  How do government handouts to high-fructose corn syrup manufacturers reflect the free market?

They don’t, obviously.  But it’s so ingrained in our culture to equate things like “free-market fundamentalist” and “right-wing economist” that even very bright people (I enjoyed the rest of Surowiecki’s article) sometimes make claims about one when they mean the other.

Similarly, I think that someone who self-describes as “pro-life” should be concerned about women’s well-being, would weigh the well-being of a sentient neglected child above that of a pre-sentient fetus, would be an advocate for economic & social justice, would have empathy for livestock subject to torturous existences in CAFOs (concentrated animal feeding operation), would be appalled that environmental harm & climate destabilization is aggravating armed conflict across the globe.  Obviously I was thrilled to read Thomas Friedman’s editorial, “Why I Am Pro-Life.”  I thought it’d mean I’d get fewer confused looks.

It didn’t.  But it’s still a lovely editorial.

And, getting back to economics: even though right-wing politicians oppose it, a free-market fundamentalist would support a carbon tax.

CaptureProducing carbon is a negative externality.  That means it’s a cost of production that is not inherently paid by the producers — other well-known negative externalities are the raw sewage, bad smells, & concomitant reduced property values brought by CAFOs, or the suddenly poisonous well water in towns adjacent to certain types of coal mines.

For the free market to work properly, negative externalities must be priced through taxation.  If not, too many of the associated good are produced and everyone’s utility (“happiness” is a reasonable synonym for the word “utility”) is lower than it could’ve been.

(Well, almost everyone’s — in some cases net utility is lower, and all but one person’s utility drops, but the person operating a mine at below-market rates and poisoning everyone’s water is happier.  The mine owner might earn enough that he can afford to buy bottled water, a big house, & a politician or two.)

This is analogous to the well-known “tragedy of the commons,” the idea that if all shepherds have unlimited free access to a shared space, they’ll have their sheep overgraze it.  After a few years, the grass is dead & everyone’s sheep starve.  Similarly, if we give all corporations unlimited free access to the atmosphere as a garbage bin, each has an incentive to overpollute and kill us all.

If that sounds overdramatic, please read the Easter Island chapter of Jared Diamond’s Collapse.  The book’s central message is that environmental disaster obliterates societies, and Easter Island is perhaps the best example of a once-fertile land pillaged by its inhabitants, who then could not survive minor geological shocks.  To this day the island is covered by grassy hills & insouciant gods, but it was once densely forested & harbored a variety of plant life.  Then the inhabitants chopped down the trees.  In Diamond’s words:

CaptureI suspect that landscape amnesia provided part of the answer to my UCLA students’ question, “What did the Easter Islander who cut down the last palm tree say as he was doing it?”  We unconsciously imagine a sudden change: one year, the island still covered with a forest of tall palm trees being used to produce wine, fruit, and timber to transport and erect statues; the next year, just a single tree left, which an islander proceeds to fell in an act of incredibly self-damaging stupidity.  Much more likely, though, the changes in forest cover from year to year would have been almost undetectable: yes, this year we cut down a few trees over there, but saplings are starting to grow back again here on this abandoned garden site.  Only the oldest islanders, thinking back to their childhoods decades earlier, could have recognized a difference.  Their children could no more have comprehended their parents’ tales of a tall forest than my 17-year-old sons today can comprehend my wife’s and my tales of what Los Angeles used to be like 40 years ago.  Gradually, Easter Island’s trees became fewer, smaller, and less important.  At the time that the last fruit-bearing adult palm tree was cut, the species had long ago ceased to be of any economic significance.  That left only smaller and smaller palm saplings to clear each year, along with other bushes and treelets.  No one would have noticed the falling of the last little palm sapling.

Sure, a free-market fundamentalist would bemoan government interventions like a cap & trade system to regulate pollution.  I’m a hippy-dippy liberal and I hate the idea of cap & trade, too.  But assessing the cost to all for each unit of carbon production, then levying a tax so that corporations know the true consequences of their decisions?  That is a free market solution.

Similarly, a free-market fundamentalist should support government subsidies to education, infrastructure, and basic research.  Those are all goods with significant positive externalities, meaning each produces benefits that accrue to the population as a whole, not just to the individual who had to pay to build a road.  Since the value of these goods to the economy as a whole is undercounted, the correct equilibrium amount won’t be produced unless they are subsidized.

CapturePositive externalities are things like keeping bees.  If you keep bees, you get some honey, maybe you get some pleasure by looking at your hive from time to time.  But your decision to keep bees also makes all nearby farmland more productive.  Because it’d be difficult to track each bee & charge each nearby farmer for every flower fertilized by one of your bees, it’s more sensible to simply subsidize beekeeping (with perhaps some restrictions on where you’re keeping bees — if you’re living in the middle of a city, your bees might not be helping much).

Similarly, if you educate children, employers gain access to a more competent workforce, citizens gain more pleasant neighbors, often less needs to be spent on policing & prisons a few years down the line.  Government-funded research made possible our wireless technologies, the internet, microwave ovens — & these make everyone’s lives more efficient.  The free-market solution that compensates the researchers who gave us all these near-magical technologies is to subsidize their research.

The other common solution, the one that is not a free-market approach but is favored by many right-wing politicians, is to grant patent protections, artificially disallowing all but one corporation from producing any of a good.

That type of distinction is why it saddens me to see habitual misuse of words or phrases as slogans lend them a connotation that’s so different from their actual meaning.  Especially because, in the case of something like “free market” or “pro-life,” the distinction changes the world in appreciable ways.  Like, okay, if everybody wants to use the word “peruse” to mean “skim,” of if everybody wants to use the word “fortuitous” to mean “fortunate,” I’ll just stop using those words.  I don’t want to use them incorrectly, but I don’t want to confuse anyone, either.  But “free market” and “pro-life” are such big, emotionally-charged concepts that I get upset about political efforts to commandeer them.

On death (by gun violence) and taxes (progressive ones).

Click to go to the article.
Click to go to the article.

Devone Boggan’s opinion piece in the New York Times, which discusses a gun violence reduction program where counselors work with & pay at-risk young people to help them stay out of trouble, is lovely.  Well worth reading, especially to get a sense of the numbers: these young men are being given such small amounts of money, little was spent to coach and mentor them, and the city of Richmond, CA (where the initiative is based) has accrued huge savings.  Huge monetary savings — there’s also that trifling side benefit of people feeling more safe and dudes not being dead.

What was interesting for me, though, was seeing Boggan’s piece (really, go read it!) juxtaposed with Alan Feuer’s article on billionaires decrying wealth inequality, also in this week’s Sunday Review section.  Because in conjunction the two pieces convey what I feel is the most compelling philosophical rationale for progressive taxation.  Which I believe we sorely need more of in this country.

Here’s the super-brief version of the argument: people should pay for governance in proportion to what they would lose if there were no governance.

(Maybe this sounds silly when stated so bluntly.  In some ways reminiscent of the definition of electrostatic potential, which is the work done to drag an imaginary test charge to any location from infinitely far away, or John Rawls’s idea that our political system should seem acceptable to a gathering of brilliant, bodiless, ignorant individuals.  But, just hold on!  I promise this won’t be so abstract)

If we consider impoverished, disenfranchised young people: their lives might well improve if we all woke up to anarchy tomorrow.  If our current system has proffered no employment, no wealth, crowded housing, toxic environs, crumbling infrastructure, brutal dehumanizing interactions with the police and other authority figures, they might be better off in a Leviathan-esque world.  Their odds would be no worse than anybody else’s.  As opposed to now; many brilliant individuals, unlucky enough to be born where and when they were, hardly have a chance.  So I think it would be perfectly reasonable for their tax rate to be negative.  It would be fair for them to be compensated for the fact that our current system makes their lives crummy.

And for people who amass fortunes by virtue of our government’s structure and opportunities, and who rely on the state to protect that fortune… they would lose dearly if we woke up to chaos instead of our current system.  They should pay a high percentage of the value of the income & capital that our government makes possible for them to keep.

Which is darkly alluded to in Feuer’s article.  To quote:

In March, for instance, Paul Tudor Jones II, the private equity investor, gave a TED talk in which he proclaimed that the divide between the top 1 percent in the United States and the remainder of the country “cannot and will not persist.”  Mr. Jones, who is thought to be worth nearly $5 billion, added that such divides have historically been resolved in one of three ways: taxes, wars, or revolution.