Having been a part of the so-called “dust up” with Cathy Kaveny during the presidential campaign two years ago, I appreciate learning from Professor Kaveny’s continuing engagement with the foundational social and moral question of our time, namely how to ensure and promote sanctity of human life. During the past two years, I too have continued to think about these matters, some of which is shared in my forthcoming piece in the Journal of Catholic Legal Studies (published by St. John’s law school). I’ve also come toward greater appreciation of the contribution that Professor Kaveny has presented in her prior work toward securing greater respect for the life of the unborn, a positive and supportive dimension that I found largely missing in her messages during the “dust up,” but which I hope will return in her ongoing scholarly work.
In response to her recent message as posted by Michael Perry, I respectfully suggest that three points or factors ought to be added to, or given more attention within, Professor Kaveny’s analytical framework:
First, practical reasoning (or what Professor Kaveny calls “casuistical” discourse) and prophetic discourse should not be viewed invariably as mutually exclusive, but rather may often be mutually reinforcing. John Paul’s powerful prophetic message about the Culture (or, as he preferred to say, the “Gospel”) of Life and its contrast with the Culture of Death was a powerful message that has resonated across the globe and within this country. Without that appeal to our better selves, the opportunity for practical reasoning of the type Professor Kaveny now endorses might have been lost or diminished, as society might have continued a blind walk down a dark path. Arguments founded upon practical reason are more likely to have traction if the participants have appreciated the underlying moral stakes, which may be highlighted by prophetic discourse.
While Professor Kaveny mentions in passing the “important hortatory function [of prophecy], reminding us all about the transcendent importance of certain values,” she nonetheless sees prophecy primarily as undermining reasonable conversation rather than as perhaps creating the very occasion for the exercise of practical reasoning. See M. Cathleen Kaveny, Prophecy and Casuistry: Abortion, Torture and Moral Discourse, 51 Villanova Law Review 499 (2006). (In my view, Professor Kaveny overstates her case by characterizing prophecy as “moral chemotherapy,” thereby lumping all forms of prophetic discourse into a single and extreme category.)
Prophecy also shines the light of truth on overarching themes, so that we can better understand how we arrived at a dangerous point in which the sanctity of human life has come under assault from so many directions. As Professor Kaveny writes, with citation to James Gustafson, prophecy frequently identifies root causes of larger social and moral errors. What made John Paul’s Evangelium Vitae “‘new’ in a quite important way,” as Helen Alvaré observes, was “that abortion was not treated as a solitary issue but also as a paradigm of the “‘culture of death.’” What we have been witnessing in recent decades is the emergence of sharp divisions on a related series of the most fundamental questions of human existence. We have seen a pattern of societal dehumanization and collective subjugation of human dignity for the weak, helpless, and unwanted. Nor have these cultural trends arisen in a random and unrelated manner, but rather reflect an integrated anti-ethos of isolated, selfish, and radical autonomy. Through this culture of death, grounded on extreme individualism, we are seeing what Jacques Maritain called “the tragic isolation of each one in his or her own selfishness or helplessness.”
Interestingly, in the past, Professor Kaveny has made similar observations, noting that “[a] lenient attitude toward abortion . . . should finally be viewed as a prismatic and poignant example of a callousness toward life in general, a callousness that must be eradicated in all its forms.” Cathleen Kaveny, Toward a Thomistic Perspective on Abortion and the Law in Contemporary America, 55 The Thomist 343, 393 (1991).
Second, we say much about ourselves and our culture by whether we choose to characterize a statement or series of statements as largely prophetic or largely casuistical. When speaking of the “culture of death,” John Paul was addressing the perverted conscription of the language of legal rights and charity, even benevolence, in the service of the killing business. When a culture has so deformed the language of humanity and compassion as to describe the purging of the unborn as medical services and necessary health care, to characterize the elimination of the dependent aged as exhibiting compassion and respect for dignity, and to label human embryos as mere cell material, then plain speaking is essential and will appear prophetic. When the world has gone mad, the clear and sober voice of the sane man may appear extreme and disturbing. Such is the typical response to the words of a prophet in any age.
Third, if the Catholic witness for life is to maintain vitality and integrity, we must be careful not to give scandal to the faithful or to the nation at large by leaving the impression that contemptuous disregard for human life is not a serious breach with Catholic communion. When prominent Catholics are widely perceived as bending over backwards to justify votes for pro-choice political candidates, we inevitably begin to hear voices within our own parishes and faith communities citing these statements as evidence that the sanctity of life is not an important, or at least not an indispensable, Catholic value. Just as deleterious to the Catholic witness for life, we hear suggestions that promoting pro-life values in public life is like saying the Rosary each day, something good and to be encouraged to be sure, but not essential or central to our Catholic faith.
If anything, the danger of such scandal is even greater in the academic community, where published justifications by Catholic academics for supporting pro-choice politicians are held up by others as the defining mark of what a “thinking” Catholic says and does. Those of us who speak forthrightly and without ceasing about the central importance of human life, even of the unborn, thus are more easily dismissed by the larger academic community as either quaint or radical. The academic community instead favors (and regularly rewards with enhanced reputations, invitations to speak, and prestigious appointments at elite universities) those Catholics who appear to be ambivalent about abortion or whose pro-life views are seen as non-threatening or who at least appear unwilling to allow any fetish about fetuses to stand in the way of allegiance to liberal orthodoxy among the professoriate. While the appearance may not be the reality in the case of these Catholic academics, the appearance is created by their statements and actions and thus they have the moral responsibility to take vigorous action to correct those misimpressions.
In the past, Professor Kaveny appears to have recognized this very danger. She also spoke of the importance of “supporting and gradually extending a pro-life consensus,” which of course may only be achieved by unceasing and unambiguous statements about the value of human life at all its stages. (I must say, however, and many on both sides of the discussion noted this in private conversation at the time and since, this essential element of Professor Kaveny’s message was conspicuously missing from her commentary during the 2004 “dust up.”)
Finally, I am compelled to comment on Professor Kaveny’s “take” on the midterm elections: “Most Americans now believe the country needs a reasonable conversation; they want practical reason, not prophecy.” While I’m not at all convinced that the recent election turned on the question of the appropriate approach to abortion (and the reemergence of pro-life Democrats, at least for a brief moment, in this election suggests something more complex), I’m quite convinced that popular opinion cannot be the test by which we evaluate the need for a prophetic vision.
Reviewing the prophetic books of the Old Testament, for example, I find that it would have been the rare case in which the people of Israel would have chosen “prophecy” over what they preferred to see as “practical reason.” The prophets were unwelcome, indeed despised, precisely because they refused to follow elite conventions and engage with social and political leaders in “reasonable conversation.” The prophets themselves were sometimes reluctant to speak the hard but truthful words that they had been given by God, because they understandably did not want to be perceived as out-of-the-mainstream of the society in which they lived. The prophets nonetheless said what they did out of faithfulness.
As an academic, I hardly am an opponent of “practical reason,” and, most of the time, I am inclined toward the softer, gentler approach. But I should constantly be asking myself whether what I say, and how I say it, and just as importantly what I choose not to say, reflects my obsequious desire for acceptance in a larger academic community that is not receptive to the message of life, or instead whether I am being faithful to what God is calling me to say and do. When I stand before the Judgment Seat of Christ, I hope that He will judge that, at least some of the time, I truly did listen for and hear the voice of God and was faithful in speaking up for His little ones.
Greg Sisk
Saturday, October 21, 2006
I have read with great interest the exchange between Michael Perry and Michael Scaperlanda (with valuable contributions as well by others) on the moral significance and protection of human life at its earliest stages, which is the most profound and fundamental question of human rights in our time. Our two Michaels continue to differ (in ever-smaller terms) on the reasonableness of some opposing positions that would differently value some human beings from others depending on point of development. Nonetheless , I perceive a rapidly-declining distance between them, not only in terms of agreeing that such opposing positions do manifest error, but I think as well on the gravity of the error inherent in any deliberate deprivation of human rights protection for any category of human beings.
In considering the nature of these evaluations of the degree of “wrongness” of an opposing position on an issue, I am reminded of my attempts each year to explain to students in Civil Procedure the difference in the standard by which a judge may grant judgment as a matter of law (formerly known as directed verdict or judgment notwithstanding the verdict) as contrasted with the standard by which a judge may grant a new trial. A judge may remove a case altogether from the jury, or override a jury verdict and enter a contrary judgment, only when there are no questions of material fact upon which there is a genuine dispute and the moving party would be entitled to judgment as a matter of law. This “judgment as a matter of law” rule articulates a reasonableness standard, under which the question is whether a reasonable fair-minded jury could render a verdict based upon that factual record. By contrast, when a jury verdict is not irrational, but the judge is convinced that the verdict is against the great weight of the evidence, the judge may vacate the jury verdict and submit the matter for a new trial, with the hope that another jury will not make the same mistake. The standard for granting a new trial is whether the verdict, while not unreasonable, leaves the judge with the firm and definite conviction that a serious mistake has been made.
As further explanation for students about such procedural standards in application, I suggest that in life as well as the law we experience different levels or degrees of disagreement with others. On one end of this spectrum, we may find ourselves left unpersuaded, telling another that we simply disagree while acknowledging that his or her position is reasonable. On the other end, we may not merely disagree but regard another person’s position to be utterly irrational. In between, but perhaps closer to the irrational end of the spectrum, lies the situation in which we may admit that another’s position is not wholly unreasonable, but nonetheless insist that the person is seriously and gravely wrong.
When it comes to evaluating the error of describing unborn children at the stage before organized cortical brain activity as less worthy of protection, our two Michaels appear to fall into this third category. I read them as increasingly agreeing that the error is not merely a mild mistake of ordinary disagreement, but rather a grave and serious error that does not follow the greater weight of the evidence, that fits uncomfortably within a well-informed appreciation for the foundations of human rights, and that bears seriously detrimental consequences for human dignity. Based upon agreement to this important extent about the substantiality of the error of valuing individual human life by potential can only come alliance in a common cause for human rights.
Greg Sisk
Tuesday, August 22, 2006
Today is the tenth anniversary of the Welfare Reform Act, passed by a bipartisan majority in Congress and signed by President Clinton, while opposed by a large coalition, including the Catholic bishops, who claimed that it violated principles of social justice.
Ron Haskins offered these observations (the full piece can be found here):
The left, led by senior Democrats in Congress, the editorial pages of many of the nation’s leading newspapers, the Catholic bishops, child advocates in Washington and the professoriate, had assaulted the bill in terms that are rare, even by today’s coarse standards. Democrats speaking on the floor of the House labeled the bill “harsh,” “cruel” and “mean-spirited.” They claimed that it “attacked,” “punished” and “lashed out at” children. Columnist Bob Herbert said the bill conducted a “jihad” against the poor, made “war on kids” and “deliberately inflict[ed] harm” on children and the poor. Sen. Frank Lautenberg said poor children would be reduced to “begging for money, begging for food, and . . . engaging in prostitution.”
Many Democrats and pundits shouted that the bill would throw a million children into poverty. Marion Wright Edelman of the Children's Defense Fund said that no one who believed in the Judeo-Christian tradition could support the bill. Even God, it seemed, opposed the evil Republican bill.
* * *
In the decade that has passed since the 1996 reforms, the welfare rolls have plummeted by nearly 60%, the first sustained decline since the program was enacted in 1935. Equally important, the employment of single mothers heading families reached the highest level ever. As a group, mothers heading families with incomes of less than about $21,000 per year increased their earnings every year between 1994 and 2000 while simultaneously receiving less money from welfare payments. In inflation-adjusted dollars, they were about 25% better off in 2000 than in 1994, despite the fall in their welfare income.
Over the same period, the child-poverty level enjoyed its most sustained decline since the early 1970s; and both black-child poverty and poverty among female-headed families reached their lowest level ever. Even after four years of increases following the recession of 2001, the child poverty level is still 20% lower than it was before the decline began. Similarly, measures of consumption and hunger show that the material conditions of low-income, female-headed families have improved. Although welfare reform was not without problems, none of the disasters predicted by the left materialized. Indeed, national surveys show that almost every measure of child well-being—except obesity—has improved since the mid-1990s.
Robert Samuelson makes similar observations (his full piece can be seen here):
President Bill Clinton signed the Personal Responsibility and Work Opportunity Reconciliation Act of 1996, better known as “welfare reform,” on Aug. 22, 1996. A decade later, it stands as a rarity: a Washington success story. It did not succeed in the utopian sense of eliminating all poverty or family breakdown. It succeeded in a more practical way. It improved life modestly for millions of people and showed that government could orchestrate constructive change. There are small and large lessons in this. The small lessons involve poverty; the large lessons involve politics.
One little-known fact is that we have made gains against poverty in recent decades—and welfare reform deserves some credit. The poverty rate among blacks has fallen sharply, though it’s still discouragingly high. From 1968 to 1994, it barely budged, averaging 32.4 percent. By 2000 it was 22.5 percent. (The poverty rate is the share of people living below the government’s poverty line, about $19,500 for a family of four in 2004.) Similarly, there have been big drops in child poverty. Since 1989 the number of children in poverty has fallen 12 percent for non-Hispanic whites and 14 percent for blacks.
* * *
One lesson is that what people do for themselves often overshadows what government does for them. Since 1991, for example, the teen birthrate has dropped by a third. [Sisk: Note that this is not because teenage girls were forced into abortion with reductions in welfare, asabortion rates fell continuously during the same period.] The mothers least capable of supporting children have had fewer of them. Welfare reform didn't single-handedly cause this. But it reinforced a broader shift in the social climate -- one emphasizing personal responsibility over victimhood.
Of course, poverty endures. Some mothers are unemployable and are worse off without continuous welfare. Even those with low-paying jobs often depend heavily on other government benefits, mainly food stamps and Medicaid (health insurance). And one reason that poverty hasn’t decreased more is an unending inflow of poor immigrants. Unlike non-Hispanic whites and blacks, Hispanics are the only major ethnic or racial group with more children in poverty over the last 15 years. Since 1989 the increase is 58 percent.
So: we've made a stubborn problem a bit more manageable. It’s pragmatic progress, not a panacea. Why can’t we do the same for other pressing problems—energy, immigration, retirement spending (Social Security, Medicare)? Here, welfare reform’s political lessons apply.
Greg Sisk
Tuesday, August 8, 2006
In my first two posts (here and here), I suggested general guidelines for and initial steps of analysis in evaluating a tax regime in light of Catholic Social Thought principles. I conclude that outline in this post, turning today to the secondary economic and social effects of taxation as a crucial but often neglected element. As part of the prudential judgment dimension of Catholic Social Doctrine, the law of unintended consequences cannot be ignored.
Let me begin with a a real-life illustration (see here and here) that could be a case model for exploring the application of Catholic Social Teaching to tax policy: In 1990, Congress imposed a luxury tax against yachts. Liberals like George Mitchell and Ted Kennedy touted this measure as a progressive means of forcing the rich to pay their faire share of taxes. Then reality dropped in with a resounding thud. The effect of the tax was to devastate the market for yachts, leading to a drop in sales of 77 percent and the loss of jobs for 25,000 people in the boat-building industry. An overwhelming majority of Senators, including George Mitchell and Ted Kennedy, called for the immediate repeal of this tax.
So what should have been the Catholic Social Thought position on the luxury tax on yachts? Surely we ought not endorse this tax based upon some purist view that it was progressive in formulation and was targeted toward the wealthy, blindly ignoring its real-world catastrophic effects? Surely the proper response based upon Catholic Social Teaching would be to preserve tens of thousands of jobs and maintain the health of the maritime sector of the economy, even if this also meant that, yes, some rich people would get to cruise around in big boats?
Accordingly, when developing a wise tax policy for a just society, progressivity in rate and primary application to the wealthy is not a talisman for virtue in revenue collection. In my last post, I pointed out that what appears to be progressive in theory may be anything but proportional to capacity to pay in actual application. In addition, even a tax that is applied in what appears to be an equitable manner nonetheless may so distort economic transactions, suppress economic growth, depress positive incentives, or encourage negative incentives that the tax’s detrimental secondary effects far outweigh any supposed advantage by virtue of its supposed progressivity. To offer but one example, thankfully not reflected in today’s tax policy (although not unprecedented in the history of American taxation), a marginal tax rate of 100 percent (or even 60, 70, 80, or 90 perfect) might appear magnificently progressive, but such confiscatory rates would destroy any incentive for economic production above a certain level and, for that reason, would result in no increased collection of revenue. The luxury tax on yachts discussed above is a more recent example of liberal tax policy colliding with economic reality.
Furthermore, some argue that certain kinds of taxes or taxes against certain items serve worthy public policy goals despite their manifestly regressive nature. Most prominent in this category would be the “sin tax” on cigarettes, a gigantic mark-up in price that falls most heavily on the poor but that nonetheless is justified by its supporters as designed to deter smoking (although we all know the real motivation is to raise revenue in a less controversial way or at least against those least likely to complain to legislators).
As another example, among the most regressive taxes imposed today are the various federal and state taxes on gasoline. While being forced to pay more at the pump causes but little inconvenience to the wealthy (as a person can only fuel and drive one car at a time), the tax gouges those of limited income who need transportation to work, families wishing to take a summer vacation, working class people who make a living in the trucking industry, and everyone who has to pay higher prices on groceries, clothing, and consumer goods as the increased transportation costs are passed along to the consumer.
Yet the same prominent figures on the political left, in Catholic circles and elsewhere, who claim to support progressive taxation tend to be strong supporters of the gasoline tax, justifying it as necessary to discourage use of petroleum fuels, force people to use public transportation, and improve the environment. During the Clinton Administration, Al Gore advocated substantial hikes in all fuel taxes for just these reasons. I am not particularly fond of those arguments and think the regressive effect of the gasoline tax is troubling, but I haven’t heard any calls from the leftward side of the Catholic Social Thought community to bring those tax rates down. My primary point today, however, is not that that the gasoline tax ought to be reduced, but that plausible arguments have been offered to justify even such regressive taxes as advancing other overriding public policies. Thus, the multi-dimensional nature of any evaluation of tax policy is confirmed.
Finally, the progressivity of a proposed tax simply is not an argument for loading an additional tax burden upon any given sector of society. When any form of taxation is proposed, we certainly should consider its potential effects on the least advantaged elements of society, as well as the other dynamic effects it may have on the economy, society, liberty, cultural choices, etc. But even if a tax passes muster on such factors, we have merely reached the preliminary conclusion that it is a fair tax and is not an overly disruptive measure if any tax is to be imposed. Whether increasing taxes of any type (either directly or indirectly by allowing tax cuts to expire) is a prudent idea must be a separate stage of analysis. The case for greater governmental spending, with attendant increases in taxes to fund larger government, must be made independently.
Two years ago, Rev. John J. Myers, Archbishop of Newark, explained that Catholic Social Thought is a tool for conscientious evaluation of public policy, in which people of good conscience but motivated by the same goals may come to different places:
The Church’s social teaching is a diverse and rich tradition of moral truths and biblical insights applied to the political, economic, and cultural aspects of our society. All Catholics should form and inform their conscience in accordance with these teachings. But reasonable Catholics can (and do) disagree about how to apply these teachings in various situations.
For example, our preferential option for the poor is a fundamental aspect of this teaching. But, there are legitimate disagreements about the best way or ways truly to help the poor in our society. No Catholic can legitimately say, “I do not care about the poor.” If he or she did so this person would not be objectively in communion with Christ and His Church. But, both those who propose welfare increases and those who propose tax cuts to stimulate the economy may in all sincerity believe that their way is the best method really to help the poor. This is a matter of prudential judgment made by those entrusted with the care of the common good. It is a matter of conscience in the proper sense.
Greg Sisk
Sunday, August 6, 2006
The fundamental principle of Catholic Social Teaching ― that taxes necessary to generate government revenue should be imposed in proportion to capacity to pay ― often is mistranslated into a supposed precept that a tax is properly “progressive” only when it involves an escalating sequence of rates that increase with income or whatever is the subject of the tax. Likewise, some appear to believe that the presence or absence of a graduated scale of rates is the crucial or even solitary measure of tax virtue. Neither presupposition is correct.
First, the magisterial teaching of the Church directs that taxes be imposed by governments in a manner “proportioned to the capacity of the people contributing.” Pope John XXIII, Encyclical Letter Mater et Magistra ¶ 132 (1961). Proportionality, not progressivity as re-defined to be synoymous with higher marginal rates, is the standard of tax equity. As long as taxation falls fairly upon those capable of paying, in proportion to that ability to pay, escalating rate brackets are not an essential feature. The expectations of Catholic Social Teaching are satisfied by a tax that exempts those unable to pay, that requires a reasonable contribution from the average taxpayer (considering the rate, deductions, and exemptions), and that collects a larger amount from those with higher capacity to pay (although not necessarily at an enhanced marginal rate). Graduation of rates may well be appropriate in some circumstances and to some degree and may be consistent with proportional capacity to pay, but progressive tax rates are neither necessary nor even sufficient in evaluating fair proportionality.
Second, and more importantly, the true burden of a particular tax upon demographic groups in society requires nuanced and critical analysis. A simple reference to tax rates set forth in legislative text in the abstract of political debate cannot substitute for careful study of the real consequences on real people in application in the fact-bound contexts of economic, social, and cultural activity. The empirical question is whether the tax oppresses the poor, unduly burdens the middle class, and unfairly advantages the wealthy. Expanding ratios and varying rates may be a factor, but such elements are not always conclusive and do not always unfold as expected. Whether a particular system of tax rates or particular type of tax offends principles of Catholic Social Teaching cannot be decided in the abstract.
For example, any sales or consumption tax would appear on its face to be hopelessly regressive in nature (and many may well be). But if the necessities of daily life are exempt from sales tax (such as food, clothing, and housing), if sales tax is not imposed against basic human services (medical care, etc.), and if other appropriate adjustments are made, a sales tax may become somewhat more progressive in application (as it would attach more directly to the wealthy who spend more both in real dollar terms and as a share of income on non-basic goods and services). For example, the Catholic bishops of Tennessee report that the regressive impact of the sales tax on the poor in that state is driven primarily by its application to food. My point here is not that any particular sales tax regime passes muster, or that alternatives may not be prefereable, but rather that any critique on Catholic Social Thought grounds must move beyond simply identifying the type of tax.
On the other side of the coin, what appears to be a progressive tax in theory may be much less so in reality. An income tax, even one with graduated rates, may be constructed in such a way that the wealthy are able to shield sufficient income through tax shelters that the actual tax burden is shifted down the income ladder. Again, my point here is not to offer a commentary on the progressive or regressive nature of the present federal and state income tax regimes. Nor do I mean to discount the potentially beneficial nature of certain deductions and exemptions that may greatly enhance positive incentives, additional factors beyond mere progressivity that cannot be neglected. Rather, I mean here only to insist that reciting the formula of a tax as set down on paper does not necessarily describe its application in the real world.
As another example, many people across the political spectrum have questioned the wisdom of the corporate income tax and challenged its purported progressivity. After all, only natural people pay taxes, not artificial entities such as corporations. The corporate income tax thus is merely a conduit for collecting revenue from people, specifically owners of corporate stock (many or most of whom today are workers saving for retirement) and consumers who pay higher prices for goods as the corporate tax is tacked on as part of the cost of doing business. Again, my point today is not that the corporate tax does or does not pass the proportionality test for tax equity. Rather, I mean to insist that any evaluation of its supposed progressivity must focus on who actually pays what, not on the assumption that this tax must be progressive because it is calculated by graduated rates and imposed against publicly-held corporations which are regarded as proxies for the wealthy.
In a final posting, tomorrow or the next day, I’ll introduce a further and vital dimension in evaluating tax policy. Moving beyond the equities of the formulation of a tax scheme in collecting revenue, I’ll emphasize the need to consider as well the secondary and frequently unanticipated consequences of taxation. Before we may pronounce any social justice verdict upon any tax system, we must consider as well the dynamic effects of taxation upon the economic and cultural sectors of our society.
Greg Sisk
Friday, August 4, 2006
As evidenced in our recent thread on Mirror of Justice about the estate tax, the invocation of “progressive” taxation as a canonical precept of Catholic Social Thought is repeated so often as to have become something of a mantra (if you’ll forgive my introduction of semantical religious syncretism). The underlying principle (“fair tax = good tax”) has considerable force to it, when genuinely understood, empirically verified, and qualified by other factors and principles. However, when cited by advocates on one side of a particular debate about taxation, the supposed progressivity standard frequently is misstated, overstated, or uncritically employed.
What looks progressive or regressive in the abstract simply may not be such in the actual application of a specific tax to real people and activities in a complex society. Progressivity is not a trump card or substitute for careful contextual analysis. When evaluating any scheme for procuring revenue to the government, progressivity (or more precisely, proportionality) is but one factor (an important factor to be sure) among many others to be considered (including economic disruption, consistency with dynamic social, cultural, and economic conditions, positive and negative incentives, reduction in liberty, etc.). And the progressivity of a tax is no answer at all to the ultimate question about the prudence of any proposed enlargement of the public fisc, which requires us to consider the wisdom of any expansion of government that may contract or suppress other beneficial social, cultural, and economic activities.
In three posts over the next few days, I will suggest and invite critique of certain general guidelines for evaluating tax policy in the light of Catholic Social Thought. In doing so, it is not my intent to focus upon or highlight any specific tax controversy or insist upon specific answers to any debate. Rather, in these three posts, I will suggest (1) baseline principles drawn from authoritative Church teaching about taxation; (2) the absolute necessity for empirical evaluation of the real-world impact of any tax upon real people before drawing conclusions about tax equity; and (3) prudential considerations involving other important principles and the secondary effects of taxation upon society.
The authoritative teachings of the Catholic Church about taxes are rather simple but often neglected in economic and political debates, even among those interested in Catholic Social Thought.
First, and most fundamentally, tax evasion is wrong. See Catechism of the Catholic Church ¶ 2436 (1994) (“It is unjust not to pay the social security contributions required by legitimate authority.”). (Michael Perry recently highlighted the “tax cheats” aspect of this subject). Beyond the dishonesty and fraud involved in evading the required report about taxation, complying with the tax laws is part of our obligation to support the common good, that is, the “social security” of the society in which we live.
Second, taxes should be collected from those who have the capacity to pay, a vital corollary of which is that those with no capacity to pay should be exempt. See Pope John XXIII, Encyclical Letter Mater et Magistra ¶ 132 (1961) (“In a system of taxation based on justice and equity it is fundamental that the burdens be proportioned to the capacity of the people contributing.”) While the pertinent papal encyclicals make no claim to infallibility, certainly we can agree upon the baseline proposition that a tax that is regressive in nature, falling more heavily upon those who can least afford it, simply cannot be squared with Catholic teaching regarding the preferential option for the poor.
Third, excessive taxation is improper, by draining the productive energies of the economy, dangerously expanding the power of the government, and unfairly confiscating the resources of those who have earned them. See Leo XIII, Rerum Novarum ¶ 47 (1891) (“The right to possess private property is derived from nature, not from man; and the State has the right to control its use in the interests of the public good alone, but by no means to absorb it altogether. The State would therefore be unjust and cruel if under the name of taxation it were to deprive the private owner of more than is fair.).
Fourth, no one may claim that any particular political proposal bears the magisterial imprimatur of the Catholic Church. Every economic proposal, of which tax policy is but one example, must be evaluated in light of prudential considerations, well-grounded in the context of the society in which it is proposed. See John Paul II, Centesimus Annus ¶ 43 (1991) (“The Church has no models to present; models that are real and truly effective can only arise within the framework of different historical situations, through the efforts of all those who responsibly confront concrete problems in all their social, economic, political and cultural aspects, as these interact with one another.”).
Fifth, in evaluating any proposal to create government program, regulate the economy, or tax economic activity, the ultimate goal is not aggrandizement of government, control of private economic activity, or forcible creation of artificial equality, but rather bringing about “a society of free work, of enterprise and of participation.” See John Paul II, Centesimus Annus ¶ 35 (1991). Politics is not the end but only a tool toward the end of a free society with opportunity for all. Liberty as well as opportunity is an essential element of this vision.
Greg Sisk
