Should these times be more taxing?

It seems as though, once upon a time or so, I read that, if a society wants less of something, they should tax it. If there’s any truth to such guidance, I’m afraid I don’t understand why we haven’t decided to tax red meat. There was an article the other day that claims Eating red meat twice a week may increase type 2 diabetes risk, study finds. That comes on top of long standing knowledge that Livestock emissions – from manure and gastroenteric releases – account for roughly 32 per cent of human-caused methane emissions. None of which begins to address the surface and groundwater pollution from confined animal feedlot operations (CAFOs). Perhaps that old guidance was off target. After all, in the midst of increasing effects of climate breakdown, we continue to subsidize the fossil fuel industry.

Is there a beef with bison?

Photo by J. Harrington

But, let’s assume the idea of taxing what we want less of is true. That means we could, and should, impose more and more progressive taxes on:

• fossil fuels
• red meats
• pharmaceutical price gouging
• executive pay that exceeds some reasonable ratio to regular employee income
• disinformation distributors
• who or what else?

We raised a question about the country’s priorities the other day, when President Biden announced a request for $106bn aid to Congress for Israel, Ukraine and Gaza at the same time that Home health access for Minnesota seniors at risk as Medicare keeps cutting.

As long as I'm at it, what about the idea of taxing Artificial Intelligence that does anything except making current software bug-free, interoperable and unhackable. I’m tired of the amount of time I have to spend dealing with workarounds and/or responses to some programmers screwup.

All of which means we need to stop electing Republicans, who have clearly demonstrated that, even when they win by cheating, they’re incapable of governing or even carrying their own weight.

Ox Cart Man

Donald Hall     1928 – 2018

In October of the year,
he counts potatoes dug from the brown field,
counting the seed, counting
the cellar's portion out,
and bags the rest on the cart's floor.

He packs wool sheared in April, honey
in combs, linen, leather
tanned from deerhide,
and vinegar in a barrel
hoped by hand at the forge's fire.

He walks by his ox's head, ten days
to Portsmouth Market, and sells potatoes,
and the bag that carried potatoes,
flaxseed, birch brooms, maple sugar, goose
feathers, yarn.

When the cart is empty he sells the cart.
When the cart is sold he sells the ox,
harness and yoke, and walks
home, his pockets heavy
with the year's coin for salt and taxes,

and at home by fire's light in November cold
stitches new harness
for next year's ox in the barn,
and carves the yoke, and saws planks
building the cart again.

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