Floating sales tax? Maybe

Taxation. For most of us, there’s too much of it. For others, there’s just not enough — at least not enough paid by someone else.

Now, Houston County voters are being offered a shiny new promise in March: a one-cent Floating Local Option Sales Tax, or FLOST. The sales pitch is almost charming. Add a penny to everything you buy (and tourists buy), and property taxes will fall. Just trust us.

Trust us.

A new tax to lower property taxes. That’s the hook. Right. Sure. What could possibly go wrong?

Every governmental entity seems to support it. Of course they do. Asking the government whether it wants a new revenue stream is like asking a wolfpack to vote on whether sheep should be on the menu. The outcome is not exactly suspenseful.

Critics raise two inconvenient points: (1) sales taxes are regressive, meaning the poor feel them the most, and (2) once the government gets a new revenue stream, it rarely gives one up. We’re assured property taxes will drop. Maybe they will — briefly. But give it a year or two, and odds are property taxes will creep right back to where they were, except now you’ll also be paying the extra penny at the register for five years.

Here’s the part no one emphasizes: there is no mechanism in the proposed law that forces the government to restrain itself. No guardrails. No spending cap. No requirement that the appetite not grow once the new buffet opens.

Remember when SPLOST meant specific, identifiable projects? Roads. Buildings. Equipment. We could argue about whether they were needed, but at least we knew what we were buying. Now it feels more like a general-purpose slush fund — the civic version of a piggy bank that never quite empties.

And here’s the question no one in power seems eager to answer: Would they still support FLOST if it came with a hard spending limit for as long as the tax exists? If the answer is no, that tells you everything.

Yes, government costs money. People want good schools, police, fire protection, water, and sewer. They also want welcome centers, veteran’s memorials, beautification projects, jets on pedestals, and every other symbol of civic pride. None of it is free.

Years ago, when I was chief magistrate, a county commissioner asked why the magistrate court didn’t generate more revenue. I told him we needed a better class of criminals. Everyone laughed. But the joke carried a truth: revenue depends on who you have.

Want Palm Beach aesthetics? You need Palm Beach taxpayers — high earners who don’t squawk when the bill arrives. Instead, we have a community of good people. Some are wealthy. Some are not.

So here’s the real question: is it fair to shift more of the burden onto consumption — onto everyone who buys groceries, school clothes, or hardware — without any corresponding discipline from a government that never seems to find a program it doesn’t like?

If we’re going to vote ourselves a new tax, at least let’s be honest about what it is: not relief, but expansion.

Kelly Burke was born in Knoxville, where he spent his younger years, followed by high school years in Atlanta, where he graduated from Georgia Tech and Mercer Law School. He has been in private practice, a magistrate judge, and an elected district attorney. He writes about the law, politics, music, and Ireland. He and his wife enjoy gardening, playing with their Lagotto Ramanolo named George Harrison, and spending time with their grandchildren. To see this column or Kelly’s archives, visit www.kellyrburke.com. You can email Kelly at dakellyburke@gmail.com.