First, the background. The Internal Revenue Code permits a deduction for casualty losses, in excess of certain limits, that are caused by fire, storm, shipwreck, or other casualty. Section 165(a) and (c)(3), to be more precise. Generally, despite the tax law being replete with cases dealing with whether something, such as termite damage or massive Southern pine beetle attacks, constitutes a casualty, fire pretty much is self-defined.
But there is another limitation. It arises from the public policy doctrine, which has been applied by courts to limit all sorts of deductions, not just casualty losses. A fascinating case that nicely explains the law, and life, not only to the taxpayer but to students of tax (and not just those enrolled in a tax course), is Blackman v. Commissioner, 88 T.C. 677 (1987). I cannot do justice to the facts through paraphrase, and because they are set forth by the court in three paragraphs, here they are:
The petitioner's employer transferred him from Baltimore, Maryland, to South Carolina. The petitioner relocated his wife and children to South Carolina. Mrs. Blackman was dissatisfied with South Carolina and returned, with the couple's five children, to Baltimore. During the 1980 Labor Day weekend, the petitioner returned to Baltimore, hoping to persuade his wife to give South Carolina another chance. When he arrived at his Baltimore home, he discovered that another man was living there with his wife. The neighbors told the petitioner that such man had been there on other occasions when the petitioner had been out of town on business.Mr. Blackman was arrested, charged with arson, and sentenced to probation without verdict. The homeowners insurance company refused to pay. And, Mr. Blackman claimed a casualty loss deduction on his tax return. The relevant portions of the court's opinion are worth reading:
On September 1, 1980, the petitioner returned to his former home to speak to his wife. However, Mrs. Blackman was having a party; her guests refused to leave despite the petitioner's request that they do so. He returned to the house several times, repeating his request, and emphasizing it by breaking windows. Mrs. Blackman's guests did not leave the house until about 3 a.m., September 2, 1980.
Later, on September 2, 1980, the petitioner again went to his former home. He wanted to ask his wife whether she wanted a divorce. They quarreled, and Mrs. Blackman left the house. After she left, the petitioner gathered some of Mrs. Blackman's clothes, put them on the stove, and set them on fire. The petitioner claims that he then "took pots of water to dowse the fire, put the fire totally out" and left the house. The fire spread, and the fire department was called. When the firefighters arrived, they found some of the clothing still on the stove. The house and its contents were destroyed.
* * * * *the Commissioner argues that the petitioner intentionally set the fire which destroyed his home in violation of Maryland's public policy, that allowing the deduction would frustrate that public policy, and that, therefore, under the doctrine of Commissioner v. Heininger, 320 U.S. 467 (1943), and subsequent cases, the petitioner is not entitled to a deduction for the damage caused by his fire. * * * * *So now, having been brought up to speed to the point where a student in a tax course should be when entering the classroom on the day casualty loss deductions are discussed, everyone is ready for the professor's hypothetical. Except it is not a hypothetical. It is a story reported in this morning's Philadelphia Inquirer (free subscription site). The headline is almost priceless: "Blazing Mouse Torches House." When I saw this, I wondered, "What is a blazing mouse?" The story answered the question:
Moreover, it is well settled that the negligence of the taxpayer is not a bar to the allowance of the casualty loss deduction. * * * * * On the other hand, gross negligence on the part of the taxpayer will bar a casualty loss deduction. * * * * * "Needless to say, the taxpayer may not knowingly or willfully sit back and allow himself to be damaged in his property or willfully damage the property himself."
In our judgment, the petitioner's conduct was grossly negligent, or worse. He admitted that he started the fire. He claims that he attempted to extinguish it by putting water on it. Yet, the firemen found clothing still on the stove, and there is no evidence to corroborate the petitioner's claim that he attempted to dowse the flame. The fact is that the fire spread to the entire house, and we have only vague and not very persuasive evidence concerning the petitioner's attempt to extinguish the fire. Once a person starts a fire, he has an obligation to make extraordinary efforts to be sure that the fire is safely extinguished. This petitioner has failed to demonstrate that he made such extraordinary efforts. The house fire was a foreseeable consequence of the setting of the clothes fire, and a consequence made more likely if the petitioner failed to take adequate precautions to prevent it. We hold that the petitioner's conduct was grossly negligent and that his grossly negligent conduct bars him from deducting the loss claimed by him under section 165(a) and (c)(3).
In addition, allowing the petitioner a deduction would severely and immediately frustrate the articulated public policy of Maryland against arson and burning. Maryland's policy is clearly expressed. Article 27, section 11, of the Maryland Annotated Code (Repl. vol. 1982), makes it a felony to burn a residence while perpetrating a crime. * * * * * We are mindful, also, that Maryland has an articulated public policy against domestic violence. We refuse to encourage couples to settle their disputes with fire. We hold that allowing a loss deduction, in this factual setting, would severely and immediately frustrate the articulated public policies of Maryland against arson and burning, and against domestic violence.
A man in Fort Sumner, New Mexico, caught a mouse inside his house. To dispose of it, he threw it on a pile of leaves that he was burning outside the house. The mouse, on fire, escaped from its hellish environment and ran back into the man's house. And somehow set it on fire. The firefighters, who claimed this was a first for them, determined that the mouse had run to a point underneath a window. Though the story doesn't explain what happened, I'm guessing that there were curtains on the window. The house, and everything in it, was destroyed.
Can this man claim a casualty loss deduction?
More facts are needed. When I point that out to students, they often groan. More facts? Yes. If, for example, the man has homeowners insurance and it fully covers the loss, then there is no casualty loss deduction, because there is no loss. Nothing in the story tells us if there is insurance. Of course, to get an education from this "hypothetical" we need to assume that there is no insurance.
Where does that take us?
Was the man grossly negligent? Was the house fire a "foreseeable consequence" of tossing of a captured mouse into a pile of burning leaves? Would it matter if outdoor leaf burning was illegal? Ah, this question means that there is more information that is required. Some towns have permanent bans on outdoor leaf burning, and others impose temporary bans during droughts or periods of high fire risk. Considering the number of wildfires that pop up in New Mexico, this is more than a theoretical possibility. Is it against public policy to throw living mice into burning leaf policies? Did the man have a chance to extinguish the fire at the window? Did he try? Oh, if it matters, the man was 81 years of age. Maybe that matters. Maybe not.
I'm not going to determine if a casualty loss deduction would be permitted. I don't know. I don't have the necessary facts. Nor do I want to devalue this story's utility as a future examination or semester exercise question.
So this morning, as I head off to class, I'm going to be careful about getting the students fired up about their new courses. They may have a burning interest in the subject matter, but I'd rather they not flame me.
OK, that's enough. I'm running the risk of extinguishing my readership.