Back to Basics

There’s no doubt in my mind that government taxation is rather out of control. The proof lies in a tax code thick enough to stop an artillery shell, requiring a massive bureaucracy to administer, implement and enforce. It also lies in the fact that the chances for any single individual to actually understand this legislative leviathan in its entirety is, well, pretty much nil. In practical terms, let me put it this way: everything seems to be taxed. Business transactions. Income. Inheritances. Winnings. Property. And that rumble you hear in the distance? That would be the Internet tax that, sooner or later, politicians will sort out and implement.

The question is: what’s the overriding principle behind what gets taxed and what doesn’t? I don’t see one. Sure, there’s that whole “no taxation without representation” thing. But it’s a bit of a non sequitur that still brings to mind robber barons collecting donations from passing travelers.

Discussions on the subject, though, tend to veer from one extreme to the other, from opposition to all taxes to an inability to say no to new or increased taxes. While getting bogged in the how people are taxed, we’ve forgotten to clarify (or revisit, at least) why people are taxed, and whether the answer to that “why” is justified or not. A caveat: the answer may seem perfectly obvious, even trivial, in that all governments, by their nature, tax because that’s how they get their operating revenue. There are also legitimate public good issues that justify at least some taxation. But does it really make sense for the government to collect taxes on transactions that have nothing to do with the it, i.e. the business transaction between two private individuals? Does it really make sense for the government to be able to levy taxes on whatever it wishes — and add various fees for registration and licensing? There are plenty of related questions that show that the answer to “why” is not as trivial as one might think.

Example 2: Abortion

Don’t worry, I’m not going to rehash all the arguments. But I will point out how most debates about abortion ultimately center on whether it should be legal or banned, with various lines of reasoning brought forth in support.

There’s a lot of rhetorical smoke swirling around the mirrors, however, particularly in how the debate is framed as an argument on the value of life when it’s not really about life. Fundamentally, the issue involves the extent to which a zygote, embryo or fetus is a person, that is, a conscious being. To “pro-lifers,” it doesn’t matter whether it’s just a few cells or a fetus about to become a child: they all have the same moral weight as a conscious being (person). To the pro-choice side, they don’t. A zygote, an embryo, perhaps even an early-stage fetus; these are not persons, conscious beings who need protection.

However, it’s important not to prop up a straw man about pro-choice, which isn’t pro-abortion for the abortion’s sake, but takes the view that individuals should have the moral autonomy to make decisions based on their unique circumstances — and live with the consequences. This highlights a critical difference in the kinds of ethical reasoning used by pro-choice and anti-abortion debaters: it’s the difference between saying X is intrinsically wrong and X is wrong based on circumstances and consequences.

Result: Anti-abortion folk will continue to accuse pro-choice of being supportive of “murder,” while the pro-choice will find opponents willing to sacrifice a woman’s health and self-determination. Without any substantive discussion of these two issues — the nature of personhood and the kind of ethical reasoning used — neither side actually examines the foundation that sustains its respective house of cards.

Dealing with Symptoms

In a way, discussions today — and, of course, throughout the history of human communication — are analogous to treating a patient‚’s symptoms but not the disease. But is it because topics are so complicated that we simply can’t master the knowledge and reasoning necessary to slice away the tangle of a Gordian knot? Or is it really just as simple as not listening, in that we don’t listen well enough to address the subtext of another person’s argument? You tell me. I’m listening.