Let me throw out some very basic
propositions. Please correct me if I’m wrong.
Starting with a question: In a democratic
country — government of the people, by the people, for the people — who “owns”
the government’s money?
Either money is privately owned (people,
companies, corporations, investment banks, etc) or it’s publicly owned.
If through taxes, bonds, borrowing,
printing, digital creation, money is deposited in the U.S. Treasury for later
disbursement, whose money is it? Who actually OWNS that money before it’s sent
on its way to pay the bills?
Yes, Congress has the power and
responsibility to decide where the money goes. The President has some
discretion about spending money, as long as such disbursements are “legal”,
that is, authorized by laws which specify the allocation of said monies and
they are not in violation of the Constitution.
But Joe Biden doesn’t own it. Neither does
Nancy Pelosi or Mitch McConnell or Chuck Schumer. It’s not their money.
Make no mistake about it, our leaders act as
if it’s theirs. I mean this in both senses. Sometimes out of some misplaced
sense of entitlement and sheer arrogance, these folks do act like the trillions
that pass through the U.S. Treasury is their personal slush fund to do as they
see fit.
The other is the strictly legal sense. In
specific legal terms, government officials, regardless of how highly placed,
are only empowered to act as trustees, to direct the disbursement of those
funds, with the general understanding that such spending ultimately serves to
“promote the general welfare” and to enable the functioning of the government,
all of the foregoing ON BEHALF OF THE CITIZENRY.
In neither case, however, is the money
actually theirs. As when we deposit money in a bank, the bank may have physical
possession of it — whatever that means in a world of digital transactions and
bookkeeping — but it’s still our money.
So who owns the money the government at any
given time has in its coffers?
We could ask a similar question about public
property and infrastructure. This might offer some guidance. Who owns the
interstate highway system? Who owns the roads, ramps, bridges?
Yes, the obvious answer is the government.
But as a democracy, as active participants in a system of self-government,
aren’t WE the government?
I think there’s a basic but valid and useful
understanding which we can insist on here.
Acknowledging that some
have asserted via The Act of 1871 there has been a corporate framework, a
legal entity — a legalistic
sham — set up to accommodate the necessity of our federal government
machinery having status and standing in the vast economic environs which we
call domestically the national economy, which then participates in the vaster
economic environment known as the world economy, I still think the best
understanding of “ownership” when it comes to the commons is that WE THE PEOPLE
collectively own the physical and financial assets of the United States of
America. The CITIZENS. Not those charged with representing the needs, wants and
priorities of the citizens, not those doing what needs to be done to realize in
real terms what we democratically decide needs to be done — i.e. the Pelosis,
McConnells, and Bidens in positions of power. It is WE THE PEOPLE who confer to
them the power to act on our behalf, to protect, develop, expand those assets,
ON BEHALF OF THE PEOPLE, serving our interests individually and collectively.
That assignment of power is not without conditions; assumes transparency and
full accountability; is not permanent in the sense that officials of government
are not permanent fixtures (bureaucrats tend to be more enduring but certainly
elected officials have fixed terms of service); can be withdrawn or withheld,
though admittedly this is a cumbersome process; is not unlimited but reflects
constitutional as well as statutory limitations, and whatever limits WE THE
PEOPLE decide to impose.
It is WE THE PEOPLE who have original and
overriding control — ownership? — of what passes through the Treasury and where
that money goes. After all, it is OUR tax dollars which are collected and
pooled to fund the government, it is in OUR name that bonds are floated and it
is us who are directly obligated to repay at some future time the money
borrowed to fund the government. It seems reasonable to conclude that until
that money is disbursed for whatever reason and is on its way to creditors or
the states or government contractors or paid as salaried to federal employees
or sent to anyone who has a legitimate claim for payment, the money which is in
the vaults and accounts of OUR government is OURS.
In an important sense, that money is
collectivized, is subject to joint and collective ownership, before it is
collected, as it’s collected, when it’s collected and finally sitting in the
bank.
This applies to infrastructure and physical
assets as well. Granted, we individually have no right to claim a chunk of
asphalt from an interstate highway or one of the fingers from the statue of
Abraham Lincoln overlooking the Capitol Mall. We collectively own such items
and consent to leave it in trust so that we collectively can enjoy our common
property, whatever its agreed purpose.
Why would we look at the hard cold cash
inside the Treasury vaults or Fort Knox any differently?
On occasion we do, but we merely hint at the
idea that it’s “our money”. Usually as submissive supplicants, grateful for
some token generosity by our elected officials. For example, with the
lockdowns, shutdowns, and shutouts incurred by the overreaction to the Covid-19
“pandemic”, it was decided by THOSE WE SENT TO WASHINGTON DC TO REPRESENT OUR
INTERESTS — not by them as kings or princesses or queens or Führers — that we
would get some Covid-19 relief checks. They were paltry but an example of WE
THE PEOPLE benefitting individually as citizens, members of the collective
whole, by having some of OUR MONEY SENT BACK TO US from the pool of
collectively-owned money in the Treasury, in order to help us through the
crisis.
What is my point?
Citizens cower before the federal
government. Yes, it’s an awesome and frightening institution. It is massive in
size and an imposing, all-encompassing presence in every aspect of our lives.
And around the world. The overwhelming temptation is to see it 1) as some
frightening, unapproachable, all-powerful, omnipotent behemoth, and 2) as an
adversary, a separate entity, a force to be reckoned with.
It is not necessarily either. It’s only
humbling, intimidating, incapacitating, oppressive, tyrannical, if we view it
that way. To consider our government, at least within the theoretical framework
of even our highly-compromised democracy, as “them” and we citizens as “us” is
a self-fulfilling, self-sabotaging prophecy and a guarantee that those we do
assign stewardship of our public affairs to, most certainly WILL misuse their
power, WILL abuse us, WILL act like they “own it”, and DO A LOT OF THINGS which
are contrary to our interests, if not ultimately destructive to the historic
promise made to the world with the founding of our experiment in “self-rule”.
Does this sound like I’m talking some
abstract principle? The stuff of academic or high-sounding rhetoric but not of
the real world?
In practice, the impact of ignoring this idea is far from abstract.
There are many very severe real world consequences.
Our timidity and
imagined powerlessness has created the monster the federal government has
become. Our accepting the false narrative of a two-party system has all but
destroyed democracy. Our letting our leaders feed us lies without retribution,
in fact our REWARDING our leaders for misleading and abusing us, is putting
nails in our own coffins. Our letting the DOD use us as an ATM machine for
endless wars and shopping sprees is bankrupting the country. Our sitting by
idly while the Fed prints trillions of dollars and feeds it directly into
accounts of the already appallingly rich, our accepting and swallowing the
idiotic fairy tales of Make America Great Again and Build Back Better
when these phony grand visions are just more vehicles for the strip mining of
our economy and the destruction of the middle class, is immersing us in
crippling delusions and willful ignorance. Our electing officials who enable
and incentivize the ruin of our industrial and manufacturing base, and subsidize
the export of good jobs is hiring criminals to rob us. Our willful ignorance
about the havoc the U.S. wreaks around the world, creating the immigrant crisis
we now face is poisoning us with racist nonsense and blinding us to the class
war being waged on us. These and many more habits of laziness, cowardice, and
neglect are coming home to roost. The mess we see ourselves in right now with
the meltdown of the economy, the health crises (and there are many more beyond
Covid-19), and the coming major conflicts with Russia and China, are just
previews of coming attractions. This is not going to end well for ‘we the
people’.
It’s our money.
It’s our country.
We better start acting like it.
A Tale of the Wild West
Some of our greatest traditions come out of the Wild West, a rough-and-tumble time that forged America into the greatest country in the world. A formative time that gave Americans that hard no-nonsense edge that is universally respected far and wide.
Moreover, some would say that the cowboy ethic is still alive and well and drives not only our dealings with the pitiable nullities who aren’t fortunate enough to live here in the “land of the free, home of the brave” — you know, foreigners — but is the key to understanding ourselves, what makes us tick.
So here’s a little yarn for you all to enjoy and get educated with. There will be a question at the end — only one — but I know the kind of smart people who would read something like this here at my website. I have no doubt you’ll all get it right. Or set me straight if I’ve got it wrong.
Here goes.
It was late summer 1859. Billy Balalaika had just arrived in town and was sitting at the bar of its only tavern. The place was noisy, packed with a lot of grisly fellows wearing dusty chaps and smelling like they hadn’t had a bath in three months — because they hadn’t.
Billy was the only guy in the place wearing a black hat. Everyone else had a white hat. That was a weird story in itself. Billy had owned a beautiful stetson he had bought in Durango but a strong gust of wind had blown it into a ravine. So the first thing he tried to do when he got to town was buy a new hat.
The store had an excellent selection. All white. He chose one but the lass at the store said, “Sorry. Can’t sell you that.” She reached behind the counter and pulled out a black hat, the one he was wearing right now.
“But I want a white hat.”
“Can’t do it. I’ve been given instructions. We know who you are. It’s this black hat or no hat.”
Billy was baffled. But he needed a hat.
So here he sat, brand new black hat tipped back on his head, sitting at the bar, sipping a beer, chatting it up with the bartender, trying make conversation with the two smelly blokes on either side.
Making a dramatic entrance that commanded everyone’s attention, in walked Sam Unkel, the roughest, toughest, meanest badass west of Topeka.
Sam drew his gun, walked right up to the bar, roughly turned Billy around, and pointed his six-shooter right at Billy’s face.
“I’m going to kill you.”
“Are you sure you have the right person? I’m Billy Balalaika.”
“I know who you are and what you’ve done. Everything that’s gone wrong in this town is your fault. Everything that’s wrong with this world is your fault. So you’re going to die. Right now.”
Billy knew he wasn’t kidding. This guy was obviously insane. His reputation had proceeded him. He had killed many others, most of them innocent people. Sam thrived on being the roughest, toughest, meanest badass around. He was a very sick man.
Billy managed to keep his composure.
“Listen. I’m just having a beer. Why don’t you just sit down and enjoy the evening. Look at this place. Full of fine people, just having a little fun after a hard day’s work.”
“Nope. I’m going to kill you. I hate you. And everyone in this town hates you. I’ve told them all how evil you are. In fact, the only reason I ain’t pulled this trigger yet, is I want to see you suffer. I want to see you squirm and cry and beg. When I’ve had enough of your groveling, then I’m going to splatter your f*cking brains all over that mirror behind the bar.”
It was now apparent there was no reasoning with this lunatic.
Billy then did something so amazing, some people these days would call it “playing three-dimensional chess.”
Billy smiled at Sam Unkel, then at full volume in a beautiful operatic baritone broke into the Russian national anthem — IN RUSSIAN!
Sam, of course, had no idea what he was hearing. But it completely gobsmacked him. For the briefest second, his mind wandered as he tried to process what was going on.
In that instant, Billy drew his own weapon, and fired a perfect shot which blew Sam’s hand clean off. The hand, still grasping the Sam Unkel’s weapon, flew across the room and landed in the middle of a table where a poker game was in progress.
Sam, the roughest, toughest, meanest badass around, went running out of the tavern, screaming in pain, blood shooting out of the stump, all over his beautiful white hat. He didn’t die. But he’s still trying to learn to shoot left-handed.
Billy finished his beer. The bartended comped his drinks. Billy tossed his black hat in the trash on the way out the door. He left town in the morning.
That’s my tale of the wild west, folks. Wasn’t that fun?
Okay, here’s the question. Ready?
We know who fired the only bullet. But who started the gunfight?