The worst tax: how payroll taxes have hurt America's working class. (Cover
Story)
Jonathan Rowe; Clifford Cobb.
Abstract:
Congress pays lip service to the virtue of work, yet payroll taxes account
for over 75% of federal
taxes. Yearly earnings over $65,000, or income from non-work such as stocks,
is exempt. Suggestions for a
cut to payroll taxes include raising income taxes. This would help low-wage
earners the most.
Full
Text: COPYRIGHT 1997 Washington Monthly Company Few subjects inspire more
tub-thumping in
Congress than the virtues of honest toil. We must eliminate welfare because
people must work. We can't curb
our gluttonous use of energy because -- they say -- it would jeopardize
jobs and work. NAFTA and GATT
and even capital gains tax breaks aren't boons for the very rich; no, their
main purpose is to help people who
work.
Yet
when it comes to taxes, what's the thing Congress singles out to tax the
most? That's right -- work. Today
work bears over 75 percent of the federal tax load; and the worst part
of the work-tax system is the payroll tax,
which is deducted from a worker's paycheck to provide the funds for Social
Security. Unlike the income tax,
which applies to all income, the payroll tax falls primarily on the wages
and salaries of the working and middle
class. It takes a big slice off the top of the entry-level paycheck, with
no exemptions or deductions. Earnings
above $65,000 a year are exempt, as is income from the stock market, real
estate speculation, antiques --
everything that isn't work.
Though
they don't say so, when politicians bewail the federal tax burden on working
folks, they are really talking
about the payroll tax. It accounts for more than half the federal taxes
the average American pays. The payroll
tax is also a heavy burden on small businesses, the ones that create all
those new jobs. Employers pay one half
of workers' payroll taxes, thus the burden of this tax falls especially
hard on small businesses, which tend to be
labor intensive
With
all the hand-wringing in Washington over oppressive tax burdens, you'd
think the payroll tax would be at
the top of the list. It's not. In fact, Republicans want to turn the entire
tax system into an extension of the payroll
tax. Their "flat-tax" plans are really work tax plans. When you exempt
non-work income at the personal level
(such as dividends and interest and profits from the sale of stocks, bonds,
real estate, etc.), as proponents like
Richard Armey, the House Majority Leader, and Steve Forbes want to do,
a work tax is what's left. Reporters
obediently call the proposal what spin-savvy ideologues call it, instead
of what it really is. But that doesn't
change the reality. Under cover of a flat rate structure, Republicans want
to turn the federal income tax into a
tax on the toil they rhapsodize on other days.
It
would be easy to conclude, in fact, that most of official Washington doesn't
even know the payroll tax exists.
With an occasional exception, they never mention it; and when they do,
they usually cut and run. Jack Kemp
floated an idea for modest payroll tax relief through his tax reform commission
last year. But by the time he was
running for vice president, that was in a dumpster. Instead, Kemp and Dole
were talking up a supposed 15
percent tax cut which was actually much less; include payroll taxes in
the calculation -- as most workers do --
and the actual cut would have been more like 6 percent. (No wonder they
didn't want to bring up the payroll
tax.)
Why
the studied avoidance? A few Democrats have spoken out, such as Nebraska
Sen. Bob Kerrey, who did
an op-ed piece on payroll tax relief in The Washington Post on April 15.
But there's been no groundswell in the
ranks. On the whole, Democrats are spooked by the Social Security connection;
try to fix the way we fund the
system, they fear, and opponents will accuse them of undermining it.
Republicans
share that fear, of course. Republicans also like a tax that makes working
people angry at
government and at the same time lets high-income contributors off the hook.
Majority Leader Armey even
wanted to eliminate withholding, so we would all have to write checks to
the IRS every month.
That
may be sly politics, if your goal is to make people angry at Washington.
But in other respects, the
work-tax system, and the payroll tax in particular, is an insane penalty
on work and on the employers who
provide it. It says to the small business person: Give someone a job and
you'll pay more taxes for your trouble.
The
tax reform the country needs would not shift even more of the tax burden
onto an individual's labor, as the
work taxers -- excuse me, "flat" taxers -- want to do. That would make
the worst part of the system the whole
system. To the contrary, we should seek to lighten the payroll tax load
on workers and employers, and to
restore the balance between taxes on work and taxes on other things. Keep
your pants on, Robert Bartley --
that doesn't mean "soak the rich," though they certainly could pay a little
more. It does mean shifting part of the
tax to that which burdens the economy instead of that which moves it forward.
The
best way to ensure the future of Social Security, after all, is to gear
its revenue source to where the
economy is going instead of where it's already been.
How We Created the Monster
There
were reasons FDR started the Social Security system with a payroll tax
back in the 1930s. The tax made
sense at a time when the income tax was essentially a tax on wealth, and
when the payroll tax itself was very
low.
UP
until World War II, the income tax was the part of the tax system that
well-off people paid. It balanced the
excises and tariffs, which fell most heavily on everyone else. The tax
began as a way to finance America's
entrance into the first World War. Rep. Dan V. Stephens of Nebraska was
speaking for many in Congress
when he said the new revenues should come from the "surplus wealth of the
nation that has already been
collected into private hands in abnormal proportions."
When
the war ended, the U.S. tax system came about as close to progressive ideals
as it ever would. Some 80
percent of personal and corporate income tax revenues came from the top
1 percent or so. Eighty-five percent
of households paid no federal income tax at all (though they paid a considerable
amount in excises and tariffs),
and there was a widespread feeling that this was right. Henry Ford took
out full-page newspaper ads
proclaiming it "wise and just" to compel the very wealthy to "bear a fair
share of the load which has hitherto
rested all too heavily on the backs of the poor."
The
basic pattern continued through the Coolidge-Hoover years of the '20s.
To be sure, the Republicans
softened the blow at the top. Yet through the 1920s, only about a third
of the federal tax burden fell on working
people, mainly in the form of excises. Over 60 percent of federal revenues
came from individual and corporate
income taxes, over 75 percent of which came from the richest 1 percent
of the populace. Even Treasury
Secretary Andrew Mellon, that patron saint of supply siders, acknowledged
that, "The fairness of taxing more
lightly income from wages, salaries, than from investment is beyond question,"
This
was the tax system that the New Dealers inherited when they took over in
1932. Under pressure from
populists like Huey Long, FDR tried hard to ensure that the very richest
paid a fair share. He gained enactment
of a wealth tax, revived the estate and gift taxes, and imposed a special
tax on undistributed profits to stop the
use of corporations as personal tax shelters. He raised income tax rates
at the top.
In
that context, Roosevelt decided to finance the Social Security system with
a payroll tax. It was an add-on to
an income tax system that was already aimed at the top. It also created
the impression that working people
would be paying their own way. In reality, Social Security wasn't entirely
a "contributory" system, of course.
The first wave of beneficiaries would get back more than they paid in,
as would retirees with low incomes.
Employers would contribute to the system too, along with workers. Most
importantly, each generation of
workers would support the previous one; and the early planners realized
the time was coming when payroll tax
contributions, at a level they deemed reasonable, would not support this
load. (One Treasury analyst saw this
happening by the early 1980s, and the level of tax he considered the breaking
point was around 10 percent.
More on that shortly.)
Some
of FDR's key advisors didn't like the payroll tax approach. These included
Rexford Tugwell, the Brain
Truster, and Frances Perkins, the Secretary of Labor. One problem was the
obvious injustice: With a payroll
tax, those who made money from investments would not contribute their share.
Others saw the writing on the
demographic wall. In her memoirs, Ms. Perkins recalls the warning of then-Senator
Hugo Black of Alabama,
that the payroll tax was doomed for breakdown. "The burden on small employers
and the poorest paid workers
would be too great to allow of the gradual expansion of the coverage and
benefits," Black had said, "unless the
tax resources of the whole United States were involved from the beginning."
But
FDR was adamant. He knew that Congress was not likely to pass a Social
Security bill that looked too
much like welfare. Conversely, future administrations wouldn't dare tamper
with a system that people felt they
had paid for out of their own paychecks, like retirement insurance. "With
those taxes in there," FDR said, "no
damn politician can ever scrap my social security program"
The
big task was to get the system going; accounting problems could be dealt
with later. The well-to-do were
paying most of the income tax, so a small deduction from the weekly paycheck
to support a system of
retirement security didn't seem too much to ask.
Then
came WWII, which threw off all the calculations. To finance the war, Congress
turned the income tax into
a mass tax. It cut the exemption level for low-income Americans in half;
by 1948 close to 10 times as many
Americans were paying federal income taxes as a decade earlier. These taxes
were being withheld, along with
payroll taxes. Soon the progressive rate structure, which was supposed
to take away the sting, tended to
become the sting, as inflation pushed working people into tax brackets
originally intended for the upper-middle
classes.
At
the same time, the payroll tax itself was starting to explode. When the
Social Security tax was first enacted in
1937 it was only 2 percent of wages and salaries. By 1960 the rate had
tripled to 6 percent, which approached
the upper range of what Treasury staff had thought workers could bear without
needing extra compensation. By
the time Ronald Reagan took office, it had more than doubled again, to
12.3 percent. (In 1917, that was the
effective tax rate for Americans making today's equivalent of $500,000
a year.)
The
payroll tax rate now stands at 15.3 percent, split between employers and
employees. That is more than the
effective income tax rate paid by all but the richest 5 percent of taxpayers
in the land. A family of four today
making $40,000 will pay almost twice as much in payroll taxes as income
taxes. Imagine that kind of burden
falling primarily upon the people who attend the $1,000-a-plate political
fundraising dinners in Washington.
Indignant demands for change would fill Congress the next morning. They
do -- but to cut the tax rate for
capital gains.
The
tax that burdens the people the most, concerns the politicians the least.
Few issues show the political
economy of Washington so starkly. Suggest a tiny increase in the income
tax, and Republicans get polemical St.
Vitas Dance. Perdition will be upon us; we will suffer many plagues. Yet
payroll taxes have glided upward with
barely a whimper of opposition.
At
the beginning of the decade, Senator Daniel Patrick Moynihan tried to call
the bluff of the Bush
Administration by proposing a payroll tax cut. The Social Security Trust
Fund was racking up a big surplus, and
Bush was using it to mask the size of the deficit and justify a capital
gains cut. This would be a blatant income
transfer scheme from working people to the very rich; why not cut Social
Security taxes instead? Moynihan
provoked much foot-shuffling and embarrassment, but his proposal never
moved. Since then, with the
exceptions noted above, few have ventured even to mention the subject.
A
payroll tax cut wouldn't be a threat to Social Security. It could help
save Social Security by reconnecting it to
a revenue stream that could actually sustain it.
Taming the Beast
There
are a number of ways to support a payroll tax cut. The simplest would be
to raise the individual income
tax. This would spread the burden more fairly, and tax income from sources
other than work. There would be
built-in relief for low-wage workers, because these pay little if any tax.
The effect would be a supply-side cut --
a work-side cut for the working and middle classes, to balance off the
Reagan version that was skewed heavily
to the top.
Another
possibility is a broad-based consumption tax. Senator Ernest Hollings of
South Carolina once
proposed a 5 percent Value Added Tax, or VAT, like the ones used commonly
in Europe. The tax would have
raised just over $50 billion, almost exactly the amount that Moynihan's
payroll tax cut would have cost.
Another
possibility is to demand a fair price for the public assets the nation
has been giving away: mining rights
on public lands, the broadcast spectrum, private patents derived from research
the taxpayers have paid for. The
broadcast spectrum alone could have raised some $70 billion. These assets
are a common trust; and we could
use them to supplement the Social Security fund.
We
could take that concept one step further. For decades, supply-siders have
been telling us that when you tax
something you get less of it. Perhaps it's time to take them at their word.
Instead of taxing work, why not use
taxes to promote more of it?
Something
along this line was what the framers of the original income tax actually
intended. They drew
inspiration from a journalist and self-taught economist named Henry George,
whose 1879 classic, Progress and
Poverty, sold several million copies worldwide. George focused on the distinction
between natural assets such
as land, and real capital -- that is, between unearned gain and productive
gain. Rising land values don't result
mainly from the efforts of the owner, George observed, but rather from
the enterprise of the "whole community"
-- streets, police, and improvements to surrounding properties.
The
issue was economic as well as moral. Unearned land gains, paid ultimately
by workers and entrepreneurs
operate as a kind of tax -- a private sector tax. They siphon off funds
that could otherwise go to build the
business or pay the workers. If there must be taxes they should fall first
upon these unearned gains: "Well may
the community...let the laborer have the full return of his labor, and
the capitalist the full return of his capital,"
George said.
George
was not a popular figure among the industrial barons of the era. A number
of them funded economics
departments to put the vexatious "land question" to rest. Yet his themes
have persisted in the national debate.
There were echoes in FDR's insistence on a connection between contribution
and reward. Today, when
Democrats try to restrict capital gains tax breaks to job-producing new
investment they are harkening back to
that same concern.
The
issue even strikes a residual chord among supply-siders, the more honest
ones at least. George Gilder
sounds it in his best-selling Wealth and Poverty, the title of which is
a nod to George's Progress and Poverty.
Jack Kemp has made the connection to taxes, local ones at least. In his
book The American Renaissance,
Kemp argues that local property taxes should "fall more heavily on land,
rather than, as at present, penalizing
property improvements." The thought is pure George. Tax building values
less and the underlying land values
more, and you reduce the insane penalty -- in the form of higher assessments
-- for people who improve their
property.
But
people like Kemp ought to see that the reasoning applies more broadly.
If the property tax should fall more
heavily on land than on the fruits of productive endeavor, for example,
so too should the rest of the tax system.
If the property tax shouldn't "penalize" property improvements, then neither
should a payroll tax penalize the
labor that creates those improvements -- to the extent we can avoid it.
Start
with capital gains. Any new tax breaks for these should be limited to job-creating
new investment such as
venture capital; there's no reason to increase the deficit to reward gains
that create no new jobs or wealth.
Step
two is to eliminate special tax breaks for land and natural resources.
These serve no economic function;
the land will still be there, with tax break or without. For intrepid political
souls this could include the array of
subsidies for home ownership for the well-to-do, from mortgage interest
deductions to the exemption of capital
gains at death. Some two-thirds of the benefit of the mortgage interest
deduction goes to the richest 10 percent,
which means most federal housing subsidies go to those who need them least.
Most
importantly, we should stop giving away the air and water as a dump for
toxic waste. You don't have to
think like an economist, and believe there's a "correct price" for poisoning
the nest, to agree that people should
accept the consequences of their actions, and that the price system is
one way to accomplish this. Polluters
should pay, just as they would pay for dumping trash at a landfill. Levied
as a tax on, say, energy use, such fees
would help cut pollution in the most efficient way -- by giving companies
a big cost reason to do so. It would
nudge our economy in the direction the world is moving, toward leaner and
cleaner modes of production.
Steps
like these could reduce a substantial portion of the payroll tax, which
would be a major boost to both
employers and the working poor. (Of course, rebates or other protection
for the poor should be built in.) We'd
have a tax system that encourages intelligence and human endeavor rather
than an accretion of stuff; we'd also
begin to restore the connection between action and consequence, contribution
and reward, which is the moral
basis of a market economy. As Winston Churchill put it early in the century,
urging a tax on unearned gains from
land, "Where, no service, but rather disservice, is proved, then whenever
possible, the state should make a
sensible difference in the taxes it is bound to impose."
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