The Parable of the Bad Job Creators

Once upon a time, there was a couple who ran a mid-sized business in a small town.   They just couldn't get along, and spent their days arguing about anything and everything.  Business was not good, as their workforce was dispirited and their clients were drifting away.

One day, after a particularly heated argument, one of their managers came to them and let them know that the morale had gotten so bad that most of the employees were likely going to quit.  "Our salaries have been stagnant for five years," said the manager.  "And we all hate working here.  The whole town knows how crappy it is to work here.  If you don't do something, we'll walk."

The couple went back into their office, realizing that if they didn't act, they'd lose all of their employees, and would have trouble finding new ones.  They argued quietly but productively, and then came up with a solution.

They needed to give their employees a raise.   But how?   They didn't have enough liquidity in their bank accounts, and their credit was nearly tapped out.   Suddenly, each of them had a solution.

We could take money they've contributed into the company-managed retirement fund, said she.  It's struggling anyway.

Sure, said he!

And we could also take money they've put into the charitable fund, the one we use to do giving to those two local nonprofits that provide care to the indigent elderly and the disabled and the orphans.

So long as people were getting a raise, what did it matter where it came from?  The employees would be happy.  The couple agreed.

Then, of course, they began to argue about how large the "raise" should be.  Their voices grew louder.

When the employees heard the arguing, they were angrier, and argued among themselves.

How dare they argue about the size of the raise!  It should be as big as possible!

And the couple heard them, and smiled.

The Payroll Tax Holiday

I am, once again, completely unable to process the goings on in my own home town.   Here in Washington, there's sustained conversation about how to continue what has been called the "payroll tax holiday."   Americans, after all, don't like taxes.  Taxes are bad.  And we like holidays!  Holidays are good!  And if it's a tax holiday...well, golly!  We can take that money, which should be ours anyway, and use it to buy stuff to create jobs and get our economy moving and yadda yadda yadda.     No tax?  A holiday?  Buy stuff?  What's not to like?

Hmmm.  Let's see.

What is the "payroll tax?"  If it's a tax, it must be bad, right?   Well, let's break it down.

The payroll tax is better known as the Federal Insurance Contributions Act, or FICA.  It exists for a particular purpose.  Well, several, actually. Let's break 'em down, why don't we?

The first purpose is Social Security.   Yeah, I know, Social Security is doomed, or so we've been carefully taught.  But what Social Security actually does is pretty straightforward.    It supports those who are elderly, or unable to work, and in need of basic income to insure their survival.

I encounter those folks a couple of times a month, as I go to a nearby Baptist church, and then drive from home to home in my community delivering food for Meals on Wheels.  These are not the millionaires and scammers that Fox News will drop meaningless and unrepresentative anecdotes about.  They are people who need that check to survive.  It is light and heat for them.  It keeps them in their homes.

Social Security also supports families who have lost a wage earner.  When your husband or wife dies, leaving you without income?   It insures that your kids will have food, and you'll have a roof over your head.   It won't bring your loved one back, but it will make sure that widows and orphans are not forgotten and destitute.   If you're injured, and unable to work?   It does the same thing.  I've had friends who have lost spouses, and who've relied on Social Security to make ends meet for their kids.   It's a real thing.

The second purpose?  Medicaid.  Yeah, I know, Medicaid is terrible and we all hate it because the care is lousy and there's all this waste/fraud/abuse that, again, the media of the right wing is happy to share with us.  But when those who have nothing fall ill, it helps keep them from being frozen corpses by the roadside.   It helps get them care.   That is what it does.  As a pastor, I've seen it at work.  Could it be better?  It could be a whole lot better.  But it's something.

So here we are.  It's Advent.   It's the season before Christmas.  What are both political parties and the president talking about?

They aren't talking about insuring that those who are vulnerable are cared for and protected, the hallmark of justice in a nation since nations were first invented.

Instead, they're engaged in a political dance to see who can take the most money from our Treasury.  Specifically, they want to take it from the part set aside for widows, orphans, cripples, the elderly, and the desperately poor, so that Americans can go shopping.

Happy Holiday.

Blessed Are The Poor in Transport

Yesterday, I took my ratbike motorcycle to a nearby shop for a new drivechain and a new set of sprockets. It's a funky little shop, a far cry from the shiny shiny megadealer nearby. The mechanics there are cheery, heavily tattooed, and can do the work on time and for about half the price.

The challenge is getting back home after I've left them the bike, and then getting there again. It's about four miles from my house. I can't have my sons pick me up or drop me off. The 12 year old couldn't care less about driving, and while the nine year old would salivate at the opportunity to get the keys, I'm not sure that little jaunt would end well.

So when I go there, I take the Metrobus.

And We Hate Buses. Americans are carefully programmed to hate taking the bus, a process that begins in high school. It's cemented when that senior with their jacked up fire-engine red '71 Chevelle reminds sad little sophomores that they aren't ever, not never, going to get a girlfriend if they don't get themselves a sweet ride first. We don't like the bus. The popular, successful kids don't ride the bus. And we have to sit there, waiting, waiting, waiting, never sure when it will arrive. It's frustrating, particularly for thems of us who want it right now. It's the American way, baby.

That waiting impatiently part is no longer true. In DC, as I discovered yesterday, the buses are all outfitted with GPS transponders. Those transponders rely data about real-time location to a Metro computer, which then relays data to the Metro website. Information about when the bus will show up at any given stop can be accessed your mobile phone. It's accurate to within 30 seconds. Meaning, you don't have to wait around at the bus stop. It changes the whole equation.

But the popular kids part is still true. I rode the bus twice yesterday. Once the bus was half full. Once it was nearly completely full. Both times, I was the only Caucasian on the bus. Everyone else was Latino, or African American, or Asian, or of Middle Eastern descent. None had about them the trappings of affluence. There were no suits, or expensive shoes. I saw no-one else dickering about on their smartphone, whipping off e-mails to assistants. No-one was manically thumbtyping texts. These were folks who are not on the upper rungs of the economic ladder, or even on the middle rungs. They were working class.

The upper and middle classes were in their cars, zooming around us, talking on their cell phones. Many were driving SUVs. Others were driving hybrids. What struck me, sitting there on my honkey behind, was just how much better at caring for creation my fellow bus riders were.

Our bus was powered by natural gas, meaning essentially no emissions, and no reliance on oil from nations that hate us. With a third-full load of passengers, it gets the same mileage per passenger as my motorcycle. With a full load, that bus gets the equivalent of 165 miles per gallon, which even the best promises of plug-in hybrid technology can't offer.

As I looked around at America's working class, America's bus riders, I realized something. For all of the talk on the right about America' energy independence, and all the talk on the left about environmental stewardship and carbon neutrality, the people who are doing the most they can to make us more efficient are the folks who need to be efficient. As human beings, those who aren't growing temporarily rich on the fleeting abundance of our carbon economy are the ones who are doing the most to care for creation. The folks who cry Drill Baby Drill and the folks who buy thirty-five thousand dollar hybrids loaded with electronic gimcrackery aren't even coming close to the folks who ride the bus, day in, and day out.

Yeah, they may not be the cool kids. Or the "successful" ones. But those things don't really matter, now, do they?

Better a poor man whose walk is blameless than a rich man whose ways are perverse. (Proverbs 28:3)