Say what you will about Bernie Sanders. During his Senate "filibuster" on Friday, the gentleman from Vermont asked a good question: When is enough enough?
The object of Mr. Sanders's ire was the deal between the White House and Republicans that will keep the Bush tax cuts in place. "The billionaires of America are on the warpath," was his explanation. "They want more and more and more."
In his nearly nine-hour remarks, excerpts of which are now going viral on the Internet, he framed the lack of a tax hike for the rich as a surrender to greed. In so doing, he inadvertently raised another question: How come Republicans have such a hard time speaking just as forthrightly about the moral underpinnings of their side of this argument?
In general, Republicans tend to answer these class-warfare screeds with purely functional arguments. How, for example, higher tax rates aimed at "millionaires and billionaires" have a habit of hitting quite a few others (the Alternative Minimum Tax anyone?). How such taxes seldom produce the promised revenue bounty. Or how our real problem is not tax revenues but government spending.
These are all good, solid points, and they have an important place in a debate about policy. Yet they can sometimes convey the impression that the only issue here is about maximizing the return to government.
By contrast, think back to when Barack Obama told Joe Wurzelbacher that he wanted to "spread the wealth around," and the Ohio plumber noted how at odds that high-tax vision was with his pursuit of "the American Dream."
What might a more robustly moral argument look like? For one thing, it would address head-on the rhetoric of greed. One of the Seven Deadly Sins, greed is usually described as an insatiable desire for wealth. If that is true, when taxpayers who want to keep their hard-earned money are compared to politicians who want to take it from them to feed their uncontrolled spending, whose appetite better warrants the word insatiable?
In fact, the desire for higher taxes often seems to justify itself solely by the motive to level down. Mr. Obama suggested as much during a televised campaign debate in April 2008. ABC's Charlie Gibson asked the candidate why he wanted to raise capital gains tax rates even though the experience of the past two presidents—Bill Clinton and George W. Bush—showed that "in each instance, when the rate dropped, revenues from the tax increased; the government took in more money."
Mr. Obama's answer: "Well, Charlie, what I've said is that I would look at raising the capital gains tax for purposes of fairness."
That's the way with most tax-the-rich rhetoric. For all the talk about "fairness," Mr. Obama, Mr. Sanders and their fellow Democrats never really tell us what the magic number for fairness is. Is it 35% of income? 50%? 75%? Though they never commit themselves to an actual number, in each and every case we get the same answer: Taxes should be higher than they are now, for their own sake.
Americans are a more hopeful and less envious people than that. We are now hearing from them. Thus the heart of the tea party's objections to the Beltway status quo is fundamentally a moral one: that Washington is arrogant about how it takes and spends our money.
The American people understand this. It's not just tea partiers or those who work on Wall Street. Many years ago, the activist Michael Harrington—he, like Mr. Sanders, a self-declared socialist—wrote about the experience a friend of his had while campaigning in 1972 for George McGovern among the mostly black and Latina workers of New York City's garment district.
Harrington told his friend that he must have had an easy time selling the candidate, given Mr. McGovern's proposal for a 100% tax on every dollar over $500,000 of inheritance. This, Harrington thought, must have especially appealed to garment workers laboring for very low pay.
The friend informed Harrington how wrong he was: "Those underpaid women . . . were outraged that the government would confiscate the money they would hand down to their children if they made a million dollars." No matter how he tried to tell these garment workers how unlikely they ever were to see a million dollars in their lifetimes, they couldn't get past the idea that the government would take it from them if they did.
As Mr. Sanders reminded us this past weekend, the politics of higher taxes now rests almost purely on stoking resentment. If Republicans hope to regain the moral high ground, they need to remind citizens that the argument for lower taxes and government that lives within its means is not an argument about numbers or federal revenues. It's an argument about the ability of all our citizens to realize their dreams and opportunities.
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