[W]hen the Legislature opened last month, perhaps the most visible onlookers were a band of folks whose yellow vests symbolized their opposition to a carbon tax.
They are organized, and being up-to-date, they dispense with spaces between words and have a hashtag in front of their organization’s name: #NoCarbonTaxVermont. They even have a Facebook page.
They are not alone. Though the yellow vests have not reappeared in force, it’s not hard to find – in fact, it’s hard to avoid – talk about a possible carbon tax in the corridors and the cafeteria of the Statehouse.
Some of that talk is from people who think a carbon tax might be a good idea. But most comes from lawmakers, lobbyists and visitors convinced that a Vermont carbon tax would be disastrous. To avert that disaster, #NoCarbonTaxVermont stands guard, says its Facebook page, to “fight carbon tax schemes forced upon Vermont citizens.”
Relax, everybody. There will be no carbon tax in Vermont. Not this year, not next year, possibly not ever. No carbon tax bill has been introduced. Gov. Phil Scott is against one. So is Senate President Pro Tem Tim Ashe, D/P-Chittenden. So is House Speaker Mitzi Johnson, D-South Hero. So quite likely are most legislators, or at least enough to sustain a veto by the governor.
Even the established environmentalist community, which deep down loves carbon taxes, isn’t proposing them. The “Climate Action Plan for 2019” endorsed by the major green groups does not talk about taxes and calls instead for seeking “ways to cut carbon pollution across our economy. …”
Here’s how dead a Vermont carbon tax is: when the consultants hired to see if the tax would hurt the state’s economy (a reasonable fear) came back with a report concluding that the “economic impacts would be very small,” no one reacted by saying, “great; let’s pass a carbon tax.”
Nobody reacted very much at all.
All of which raises two questions: (1) Why have the carbon-tax proponents of yesteryear decided to drop the idea for now? (2) Why do opponents of a carbon tax keep talking about how terrible it would be?
There are three answers to the first question, starting with the proponents figuring out that they couldn’t win.
They also realized that a carbon tax is not the only way and might not be the best way to do what they really want, which is to reduce greenhouse gas emissions. Encouraging more electric-powered vehicles (which Scott favors), expanding bus service, and doubling the number of homes that become more fuel-efficient through weatherization might cut down on carbon emissions as well as a carbon tax.
Or maybe better. As Ashe noted, most Vermont emissions are caused by driving vehicles and heating homes, which Vermonters have to keep doing. These are “the areas least responsive to carbon pricing,” he said.
As the economists would put it, both gasoline and heating fuel prices are relatively “inelastic.” In a cold, rural state where most people have to drive to work, some of them a long way, higher fuel prices don’t necessarily lead to big cuts in fuel consumption.
So the carbon tax advocates of yore have accepted defeat. Why can’t the opponents accept victory?
Inertia, no doubt. But also because it’s fun saying the same thing over and over again to a friendly audience. Many of the people who oppose a carbon tax really oppose it; fulminating against it seems to be among their favorite pastimes.
By definition, then, those fulminations become effective tools for recruiting new members and raising more money for the anti-tax cause, whether it’s #NoCarbonTaxVermont or another organization.
This does not render the fulminations insincere. For instance, the website of the Ethan Allen Institute seems positively obsessed with the carbon tax these days. For those writers, their objection to the tax is not a ploy to attract members or donors. They honestly doubt that greenhouse gas emissions are making the world hotter to begin with, so their opposition to the tax is genuine. If it also brings in another member or two, what’s wrong with that?
The irony here (there’s always an irony) is that carbon tax opponents like to paint themselves as champions of less government and more individual autonomy. One reason they say they oppose more solar and wind power is that these energy sources – like electric vehicles – are economically viable only thanks to tax subsidies.
They’re right. But all energy and all transportation is tax-subsidized, nothing more than private truck and automobile travel. The American oil industry gets $600 billion a year in subsidies (mostly tax preferences), according to a 2016 study by the International Monetary Fund.
That fuel just gets the cars going. The cars themselves are increasingly manufactured thanks to tax breaks, such as the $800 million in incentives the Chattanooga Volkswagen plant got over 10 years from the state, local and federal governments.
Then there’s the cost of building the roads, filling the potholes, patrolling the highways, fixing the traffic lights and more. Almost 20 years ago, that was estimated to cost $100 billion more than the combined revenue from gasoline taxes, auto registration fees and traffic fines.
So those who oppose any increase in fuel taxes are actually insisting on more government subsidy for themselves.
Well, who wouldn’t?
