There are all sorts of taxes. Six years ago, in
Deconstructing Tax Myths, I shared an email that had been circulating not only a list of taxes but also all sorts of erroneous information about taxation. Nowhere in that list is there a “rain tax.” But according to several commentaries, that’s what Maryland has enacted. What follows is an explanation of what has happened and why it is not a tax.
According to
this report, what was enacted by the Maryland legislature is a storm management fee. The fee was imposed because the EPA ordered Maryland to reduce storm water runoff into the Chesapeake Bay. Anyone who has been paying attention to the health of the Bay, and the industries that rely on its well being in order to flourish, knows that the levels of nitrogen and phosphorus in the bay waters have risen so high that they have caused fish and other economically valuable fauna populations to shrink. Anyone wishing to come up to speed on the problems, or someone wanting to learn more, can check out the
Chesapeake Bay Habitat Health Report Card.
Because much of the dangerous substances in the bay reach it by way of storm water carrying it through storm sewers, the only way to curtail the destruction of the bay and to prevent its eventual death is to reduce or eliminate storm water runoff. Given the choice between prohibiting runoff, and thus in effect requiring all property owners to install catch basins or their equivalent, or imposing a fee to cover the costs triggered by creating impervious surfaces that cause the runoff, the legislature opted for the fee. The people who don’t like the fee, who apparently want to continue flushing dangerous materials, such as lawn chemicals, into the bay, derisively call the fee a tax. It’s not a tax. And it certainly is not a rain tax, because water can run off of properties for reasons other than rain, such as the washing of vehicles or the watering of lawns using water from a well or a water utility system.
One critic, in
this report, asks “But how will tax collectors know how to tax “impervious surfaces”? How will they know how much to charge per square foot?” The answer is easy. They can look to localities in a state such as Pennsylvania, which impose storm water management requirements on construction projects, to learn how to identify impervious surfaces, which actually isn’t rocket science. They can then calculate the total square footage of impervious surfaces in the county, which administers the fee. They know the amount of money that must be raised, which is the portion of the cost of cleaning up the bay that is apportioned to the county by the state. They divide that cost by the total square footage to get the per-square-foot fee. They multiply that per-square-foot fee by the number of square feet of impervious surface on each property. It’s not that difficult.
The fee provides an incentive for property owners to divert runoff into catch basins, down-spout tanks, or similar devices. Property owners have a choice. Let water carry contaminants from their property into the bay, and pay the price for doing so, or find a way to eliminate the runoff. It’s not unlike a traffic fine for going through a red light. The driver has a choice.
The same critic points out that the fee will be used for a variety of purposes. It is designed to provide resources to clean up the bay, to restore wetlands, to maintain streams, to build filters and other devices to trap the contaminants or treat the runoff water before it reaches the bay. But this critic complains that “a lot” of the fee will be used to administer the cleanup. What is the meaning of “a lot”? Ten percent? Eighty percent? And of course there needs to be something expended on collecting the fee, and supervising the design and implementation of the cleanup. Had the private sector been less cavalier about dumping so much contaminant into the bay, the fee probably could have been avoided. Thus, when this same critic complains that some of the fee can be used on “‘public education and outreach’ (whatever that means)” and on “‘grants to nonprofit organizations’ (i.e. to the greenies who pushed the tax through the various levels of government),” he demonstrates that same cavalier attitude. The need for public education is to teach people why it is bad to let contaminants pour into the Chesapeake Bay. The education also needs to include opening people’s eyes to the work done by nonprofit organizations, many of which coordinate volunteers who spend hours and days trying to clean up small parts of the watershed, and who argued for assistance from those who are prefer to be part of the problem without being part of the solution.
Another critic, writing in
this commentary, demonstrates his ignorance in the very first sentence of his opinion piece. He claims we are taxed at birth because a birth certificate is required, and when we die because a death certificate is required. The fees paid to file those certificates are not taxes. They are user fees. In the first paragraph, he proceeds to classify as taxes the license fee, the vehicle registration fee, and tolls. Of course, the critic calls all of these things taxes, just as he calls the fee imposed on those contributing to environmental destruction a tax, because it strikes a limbic system chord and makes it easier for those looking for a free ride to generate opposition. I suppose he thinks that the fee paid when receiving a speeding ticket is a tax. It would not be difficult to conclude that his definition of a tax is anything he doesn’t want to pay.
This critic objects to the proceeds of the fee being used to teach people how to implement “rain gardens, conservation landscaping, rain barrels and cisterns, drywells and tree planting.” He derisively notes that “So, I’m supposed to pay a rain tax so the county can train me how to plant a tree?” Yes, because planting a tree is not as simple as many people think. Too many people are ignorant about where and how trees, shrubs, and bushes should be planted. I know that not only from reading, in an effort to avoid slipping into ignorance, but also from first-hand observation of trees and shrubbery that has been planted in places and in ways that cause problems.
This critic points out that the fee will be substantial for property owners that have large impervious surfaces, such as rooftops and parking lots, on their properties. He’s right. The answer is simple. These property owners can take steps to eliminate the runoff, and thus eliminate the fee. Parking lots, for example, can be paved with permeable material. Gardens can be planted on rooftops. There are a variety of ways people can avoid fouling the environment. That doesn’t sit well with the “leave me alone, don’t tax me, let me do whatever I want because I have freedom” crowd, whose adherents never seems to worry about whether
their actions impinge on other people’s freedom and rights, for example, to have access to a pollution-free Chesapeake Bay or seafood harvested from it that isn’t a health risk.
This same critic is unhappy that the fee is not imposed on government-owned property. Think about it. If the fee is imposed on government-owned property, the government would need to impose taxes, or fees, to pay the fee. So it’s pointless to impose the storm management fee on government-owned property.
He concludes “Sorry, the environment comes first.” Of course it does. Continue to foul the environment and life on the planet goes extinct. It’s not rocket science. Preserving the health of the planet requires the imposition of a fee, and fines, on those whose behavior is detrimental to the health of the planet. Wrongfully calling the fee a tax doesn’t make the need for planetary health or the discouraging of environmentally bad behavior any less of a need. Wrongfully calling the fee a tax might stir up the emotions of the ignorant, but does nothing to solve the problem.