Backwards
by
Paul Hein
by Paul Hein
About
to use it to line the birdcage, I noticed a headline in the Business
Section of the newspaper. "Sunset Hills (a local suburb) will
debate how much of a tax break to give business complex." The
bird got the editorials instead.
The
sub-head read, "Developer wants $42 million." Unmentioned,
but assumed, is that the developer wants that 42 million from Sunset
Hills. (Once again I was struck at the ease with which the media
associate the city with its rulers.)
Sunset
Hills is a town of about 8300 souls. Its government will hear recommendations
from its Tax Increment Financing Commission regarding the granting
of this tax break; the Commission is comprised of 12 members. From
the body of the article I gathered that no officials opposed the
idea of the tax break for this new commercial development; the only
point of debate was the amount. To accomplish his objective, the
developer will have to purchase about 254 homes, and raze them.
He was prepared to pay 175% of their assessed value to acquire them.
A bureaucrat for the local school district found this offensive,
declaring, "I don’t think taxpayers should support an inflated
project." But it is of the very essence of government that
"taxpayers" should support whatever they are told to support or
face fine or imprisonment. What if the residents of Sunset Hills
decided they didn’t want the project at all? Or that they didn’t
want to pay the salaries of a Tax Increment Financing Commission?
And who decides what price is "inflated?"
Well,
so what? This is common stuff. Communities (actually, the few men
who rule them) engage in this sort of thing all the time. What struck
me as noteworthy is its very commonness, because it’s backwards.
It should be the other way around.
Suppose
the headline had read, "Sunset Hills developer debates how
much tribute to pay local rulers?" Why couldn’t there be a
Businessmen’s Tax Commission to advise the powers-that-be just how
much they are willing to spend to buy them off? Invariably, the
politicians refer to themselves as "public servants."
No one laughs when they say this, and they themselves say it with
a straight face. Yet how absurd: the people’s servants decide what
and how a new business may operate, and how much it will pay them
for the privilege of being pushed around. The residents are, nominally,
sovereign, but take their orders from their self-proclaimed servants.
And, of course, those "servants" also refer to themselves
as "Sunset Hills," not as the cabal of a dozen or two
that dictates to the 8300 people who are Sunset Hills.
We
base our lives upon assumptions. Most of the time that is reasonable:
we cannot go back and re-discover everything for ourselves. We assume
that what we are told is true. Over time, these assumptions may
become set in concrete. We assume, for instance, that a handful
of people who get themselves elected to office (often by a minority
of the residents) somehow become empowered to do what they could
not do before: take our property against our will, and direct our
lives according to their whims and fancies. If asked (but we never
are) if government gets its power by delegation from the people,
we would agree; but how, then, could we explain the countless things
which government does which the people cannot do? Have we delegated
to the rulers powers we do not have?
A
businessman, seeking to start a business in a community, must obtain
the local rulers OK about where and what he plans to do. He doesn’t
even question the fact that he is expected to pay them, yearly,
a percentage of his profits although they will not share in his
losses, if any. Even in a town as tiny as Sunset Hills there is
simply no questioning the fact that any productive activity undertaken
or planned there must share its rewards with the rulers, and obtain
their consent often at a cost before driving a single nail, or
taking the first shovelful of earth. The idea that productive citizens
or companies dictate terms to the drones is simply unthinkable.
Or
at least it always has been. Wouldn’t you think we’d wise up eventually?
June
27, 2005
Dr.
Hein [send
him mail] is a retired ophthalmologist in St. Louis,
and the author of All
Work & No Pay.
Copyright
© 2005 LewRockwell.com
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