“What I fear most are affirmative actions of sober and well-intentioned men, granting to government powers to do something that appears to need doing. Please remember always that the Lunar Authority was created for the noblest of purposes by just such sober and well-intentioned men, all popularly elected. And with that thought I leave you to your labors. Thank you.”
“Gospodin President! Question of information! You said ‘no involuntary taxation’– Then how do you expect us to pay for things? Tanstaafl!”
“Goodness me, sir, that’s your problem. I can think several ways. Voluntary contributions just as churches support themselves . . . government-sponsored lotteries to which no one need subscribe. . . or perhaps you Congressmen should dig down into your own pouches and pay for whatever is needed; that would be one way to keep government down in size to its indispensable functions whatever they may be. If indeed there are any. I would be satisfied to have the Golden Rule be the only law; I see no need for any other, nor for any method of enforcing it. But if you really believe that your neighbors must have laws for their own good, why shouldn’t you pay for it? Comrades, I beg you–do not resort to compulsory taxation. There is so worse tyranny than to force a man to pay for what he does not want merely because you think it would be good for him.”
Prof bowed and left, Stu and I followed him. Once in an otherwise empty capsule I tackled him. “Prof, I liked much that you said . . . but about taxation aren’t you talking one thing and doing another? Who do you think is going to pay for all this spending we’re doing?”
He was silent long moments, then said, “Manuel, my only ambition is to reach the day when I can stop pretending to be a chief executive.”
“Is no answer!”
“You have put your finger on the dilemma of all government–and the reason I am an anarchist. The power to tax, once conceded, has no limits; it contains until it destroys. I was not joking when I told them to dig into their own pouches. It may not be possible to do away with government–sometimes I think that government is an inescapable disease of human beings. But it may be possible to keep it small and starved and inoffensive–and can you think of a better way than by requiring the governors themselves to pay the costs of their antisocial hobby?”
“Still doesn’t say how to pay for what we are doing now.”
“‘How,’ Manuel? You know how we are doing it. We’re stealing it. I’m neither proud of it nor ashamed; it’s the means we have. If they ever catch on, they may eliminate us–and that I am prepared to face. At least, in stealing, we have not created the villainous precedent of taxation.”
“Prof. I hate to say this–”
“Then why say it?”
“Because, damn it, I’m in it as deeply as you are . . . and want to see that money paid back! Hate to say it but what you just said sounds like hypocrisy.”
He chuckled. “Dear Manuel! Has it taken you all these years to decide that I am a hypocrite?”
“Then you admit it?’
“No. But if it makes you feel better to think that I am one, you are welcome to use me as your scapegoat. But I am not a hypocrite to myself because I was aware the day we declared the Revolution that we would need much money and would have to steal it. It did not trouble me because I considered it better than food riots six years hence, cannibalism in eight. I made my choice and have no regrets.”
I shut up, silenced but not satisfied. Stu said, “Professor, I’m glad to hear that you are anxious to stop being President.”
“So? You share our comrade’s misgivings?”
“Only in part. Having been born to wealth, stealing doesn’t fret me as much as it does him. No, but now that Congress has taken up the matter of a constitution I intend to find time to attend sessions. I plan to nominate you for King.”