by Tom Baugh
The planters were not the only ones who learned these lessons. As the summer wore on, the wood gatherers chose to gather less of the winter falls and the spring blows. Instead, they left the remainder on the ground to gather in early winter lest it be seized in the coming fall collection. The rabbit and Chi-Ken tenders chose to eat more of their stock rather than breeding them. What would it matter to feed and raise the young birds, only to have them seized? The tanners tanned fewer hides, the fermenters mashed fewer berries, the coopers hollowed fewer gourds, the toolmakers gathered fewer stones.
Not by much, mind you, just a little bit less. At each point of decision as to whether to continue or relax, their minds were shifted just a little bit more in the direction of taking a little less risk (engineers call this a bias). Where the wood gatherer might reach at the end of the day to take that fortieth stick he shrugged it off as the one for the tribal council. As he shrugged, his conscious mind knew that the council would take one fortieth of the first thirty-nine. Yet, this relaxation brought him more joy than that last stick. Across the productive of the tribe, that last little bit of effort went undone.
But still, more was collected that year than the previous. The momentum of growth in the tribe which had gathered over the generations still carried them forward. But now the growth of this year, among the productive, was just a little bit less.
Among the poor and the workers, however, this trend was reversed. Freed from the taxation which had previously been a fixture in their lives, their bias was toward expansion. Especially expansion and growth to consume the excess which the exemption from taxation released, and which Luth's charity provided. And so, as the fall approached, the winter and spring pregnant gave birth to one or two more children than the parents would have previously chosen.
During that summer, the tribal council and the manager met and debated the wastage they had seen the previous fall, and which had been repeated in the spring. Their concern was not that the wastage meant that needless excess had been seized from the wealthy, but that the wastage had kept it from their greedy, clutching hands. But the thieves who had taken it were voters, too, and so their needs must be taken into account as well.
A further problem had arisen, also. Some of the wealthy, such as the woodcutters, were wealthy not so much on account of the wood which they maintained in piles to be counted, but which lay on their lands un-gathered. The planters, with fallow fields, were also escaping with some of their property un-seized, as were the toolmaker's stones in the stream, or the vineyards seed stock which had not been harvested. All of these things, in the tribal council and manager's minds, reflecting the minds of the electorate which learned of this crisis from the sermon's of Luth, represented a loss to the tribe.
"But how shall we seize a fortieth of a planter's or a woodcutter's lands? Surely this would be considered as excessive?" they pondered. Each knew that such a plan would be excessive only in that it would leave a patchwork of property ownership, rather than concern over the seizure itself.
"Perhaps we should seize these lands only in the name of the tribe. And then, the planter or the woodcutter should buy them back in the form of goods or credits in the amount of the seizure," a tribal councilman offered, to eager assent of the rest.
"But we must ensure that the poor are exempt," claimed one savvy councilman, as the rest nodded. "We shall exempt each man's own hut and a twenty-stride garden plot from assessment," he continued. Once again, the poor, consisting of those who had decided to discontinue application of their God-given abilities, would be spared from the taxation aimed at their productive neighbors. As the tribal council had learned, this bowing to the collective electorate would be disguised, not as the theft by force of numbers which it really was, but as charity for the poor.
To implement this proposal, which was announced at that fall's berry festival, the manager would be granted additional funds with which to hire permanent property assessors. The assessors would visit each tribesman and determine which improvements had been made to his property. A value was to be assigned to each property in accordance with what each improvement might bring if it were sold. In addition to the equinox collectors, these assessors represented a permanent increase of the government scope as an employer.
Property improvements were made by the productive tribesmen who built dams and cleared crop lots. And built huts for their livestock, granaries to hold their crops through winter, and lean-tos to protect their tools from the weather. And dug canals to carry irrigation. All of these tribesmen were taxed heavier for their industry to improve the bounty of the earth so that their fellows might eat. Now each tribesman who might improve his land, and thus its productive potential, had to weigh the increase in value which would surely result in greater tax. This greater tax was imposed whether or not the increase in production was realized. Some simply decided to not improve further, and thus the growth of the tribe was incrementally hampered.
That fall, the harvest was still more bountiful than the year before, despite the losses incurred from the reduced planting that spring. And despite the inefficiency of the harvest itself, as many workers were employed as collectors. Yet, this harvest was not so much more bountiful as in years past.
Even more workers solicited the tribal manager for collector work, and so the tribal manager hired additional workers as supervisors, to curtail the theft. Whatever losses in outright theft might have been prevented were simply absorbed by the wages of the supervisors. Or, in the inefficiency of collection as hutches of rabbits were left to starvation or thirst in the heat of the day as the larder was inventoried. In most of these cases, no one thought to feed or water the rabbits as they might had this been their own property.
The tribal council realized that the rate of increase of harvest had slowed. They also saw that the additional supervisors, along with the wastage, had consumed more funds than the year before. And so, the council wished to increase the rate at which the property of the wealthy was taxed, in order to handle the inevitable shortfall. In addition, the woodcutters had increased their harvesting after the fall assessment, and thus were suspected of avoiding the tax. Worse, the woodcutters dared to increase the amount they demanded for their wood, it being more scarce that winter from the reduced collection during the summer. And more of it was soft, as it had laid on the ground through the summer and fall, rather than being carefully stacked and preserved from the weather.
"And God said, 'Give to the tribe that which is the tribe's'," Luth preached from his hill, his own larder safely exempt from assessment and seizure. "See children, these evil rich steal from you thrice as you freeze in the winter," he preached to those who paid a paltry assessment. "Once by cheating the tribe of the tax, again by higher prices, and again by selling you rotted wood."
By the end of the year, the tribal council had decided to change the inventory collection to fall on the full moon of each month, the last moon of the year excepted. This change was to prevent tax avoidance as practiced by the woodcutters, and as suspected of many other merchants. They also needed to cover the projected shortfalls they had estimated after the fall collection. And so the assessment itself would collect one part per gross each assessment, for a total assessment of one in twelve throughout the year. This represented an increase in tax from five percent to a little more than eight percent. But the tribal council reasoned that this increase was needed as the collectors would be employed full-time, rather than twice each year.
The council also moved to simplify the lunar collection, allowing the collectors to focus on property which might otherwise be hidden or missed. To do this, the council decided to modify the real property collection. Recall that this tax was collected on the underlying property itself, such as the land of a planter or a woodsman. As no man could move his land or choose not to have it until after the collection, as the woodmen had done, it was safe to only collect for it once per year. This real property collection would be done during the last full moon, and would be asse
ssed at only one part in twenty. And so, once each full moon, the collectors swarmed the valley, collecting one part per gross of inventory for the first twelve moons. Then they returned to collect one part in twenty for land and improvements on the last full moon of the year.
As the mild winter turned into a mild spring, this new change had an immediate impact on the behavior of the producers. Each of these began to consider ways in which to limit inventory to an as-needed basis.
Previously, some of the woodmen, for example, had traditionally harvested wood from the forest during the summer, to allow the heat of the day to better dry it. This approach preserved its value rather than allowing it to rot on the ground. The woodmen sold their harvest later when it might bring a higher price as the winter approached.
But now, they considered instead how they might harvest only enough to sell during the month, with perhaps a little extra. By doing this, their onhand inventory was at a minimum during the full moon as the collectors came. Hardly anyone noticed this at first, but eventually this change affected the congregation, who reported it to their shaman.
"See how they steal from you, and anger God, by limiting the wood you can buy," shouted Luth from the mount.
The merchants, such as those operating the trading huts, also sought ways in which to limit their own inventories. They turned away, as the gibbous waxed, those who wished to store their goods in the hut in exchange for credits on their account stones. By this, the temporary influx of inventory was stemmed, creating a significant savings over the year by merely changing when the merchants accepted goods for trade. Those with credits on their accounts were easily able to continue to purchase, and indeed, encouraged to do so by slightly lower prices. But, the poor, who had chosen to live trade to trade by resisting the merchant evils of skill and knowledge, could not buy during these times.
"See how they force their taxation upon you by turning you away from the doorstep, much as they did The Widow, may she rest in peace. It is as if the prophecy is being fulfilled, 'And no one shall buy nor sell unless they bear the mark on their tablet.' Lam weeps at their greed, and what they do to his flock," Luth lamented.
While lamenting, he passed out Lam Toast to the faithful so that his suffering paid for their sins, buying them presumed salvation in return for nothing. "Repent Children, the time of the end is near, for soon His wrath will cleanse them all!" Luth shouted as the faithful munched and sipped. Each considered what great works they had done for the collective, the only souls who mattered to them.
Similarly, the toolmakers ensured that, as the moon waxed, they spent their time collecting rough stones. These rough stones were worth far less as these had no time invested in them. And so, the collectors carried away one part in a gross of rocks they could have easily plucked from the stream or the quarries themselves. But after the collection, work began to transform these into finished tools. However, their hurry to finish before the collection, in many cases subconsciously as their minds sought to solve this artificial problem, caused the quality of the work to suffer almost imperceptibly. And the supply of tools overall dropped.
The tools used by the woodmen, and the other artisans then broke slightly early, or cut slightly less. Should a tool break during the waxing gibbous, the woodman or the artisan might have to wait until as much as two weeks later to obtain a new one. And then at a higher price due to its scarcity as he competed with others for the limited supply. These higher prices each passed along in the cost of their own harvested or finished goods, as they had, to some extent, the taxes all along.
The lesson learned by the toolmaker was that he could manipulate the supply of tools, and thus their prices. With this manipulation he might artificially bring in more value to himself, per tool manufactured, by producing fewer of them. Their overall revenue dropped, however, and as the supply was reduced they had less need for a full staff of apprentices, or even craftsmen. And so the master toolmakers dropped some from their ranks of the employed, choosing at first to shed the lesser-skilled.
"See the evil of these, who create the tools of destroyers, who turn away the workers from their doorstep," Luth wept. As he wept he welcomed the newcomers, bewildered by having no employment despite the seemingly higher cyclical demand for tools and other finished goods, into his fold. The loyalty of these Luth immediately cemented by offering them goods from his larder, knowing that this small investment would pay generous dividends in his reach and influence later. These destitute gratefully accepted these gifts, and took the toast on their tongues as they were applauded by the rest for their symbolic submission to the collective (cult-watchers call this technique "Love Bombing").
Other artisans who could soon followed this trend. Prices for various kinds of finished goods rose slightly, as did the prices for products obtained using these goods, such as wood cut with the axe. Among these products the price increase was hardly noticed. An axe would still exchange with wood at roughly the same proportion, each having increased in value in a similar way. But, goods which could not be shifted around the full moon had no cyclical effect, other than perhaps becoming less valuable at the waxing gibbous as they represented an economic hot-potato. No one wanted them on-hand when the tax collectors came.
But still, the rate of taxation was very low compared to what it would soon become, yet the effect began to become more and more noticeable. And, behind the flurry of economic activity, no one noticed that the supply of raw materials, and finished goods, and stored food, began to drop.
We have already seen how the woodmen and the toolmakers manipulated their inventories, with the effect of fewer to sell. Even the hotpotato holders soon dipped their toes as best they might. Planters, to reduce excess seed, sold it as grain rather than saving it for the planting.
The ignorance of the collectors made them unable to distinguish between a good grape and a fair one. This ignorance led the vintners to reduce their stock of the poor grapes to ensure that each gourd of ferment, like the toolmaker's axe, would bring the highest price. Prices rose as opportunity diminished. The workers displaced by the planter and the vintners soon found their way into the open arms of Luth, swelling his ranks, and depleting his larder. He was not concerned at all.
As less land fell into master cultivation, its owners, seeking to avoid taxation on property they chose to not use, sought to sell it. But their fellows, hoping to avoid the land taxation themselves, wished to sell their excess as well. As the rising glut of owners waited for buyers who rarely came, prices for land dropped. But not the underlying assessment for taxation, which would continue to bleed them year by year, as their pastures and orchards and croplands became choked with weeds and saplings.
Some buyers did come, however. As they purchased these lands cheap, their prices gave cause to the assessors to adjust the taxation. And so the seller, who suffered the loss the most, was taxed the highest, while the buyer paid less. Some buyers were individuals who had accumulated enough wealth to purchase their own plot and build a hut, which of course was exempt from land taxation. These created their own little gardens and raised their hens to protect themselves against the uncertainty of work and fluctuating prices. By doing this, they unknowingly participated in the deevolution of specialized productive trade which Og and Pok had begun. But soon, new trades would arise for them.
Tract, a young son of Gage, a tribal councilman, disdained skilled work, but instead sought to make his fortune in other ways. Growing up as the taxes of the tribe had evolved, this artificial world was as natural to him as water is to a fish. Hearing his father and the other councilmen talk as he sat among them, Tract realized that, as the taxation would soon increase, more and more land owners would seek to sell.
Tract realized that the difference in taxation between a productive planter or vintner and a individual exempted owner created a vacuum of economic energy. Accordingly, he encouraged his father and some of the more influential tribesmen (meaning those well-connected within the government) to pool their credi
ts to assist him in buying the most distressed lands. These were easy to find, as the reports of the collectors told him which owners were the most pressed to pay their taxes.
A tradition of the tribe, formalized when the government was first created under the oak tree, was that agreements, and particularly debts, between the tribesmen were to have the force of law. For example, if Og traded with Pok, but lacked the wood with which to trade for the squirrel, Og could become indebted with Pok, allowing the latter to "lean" on the land of the former until the debt was paid (later tribesmen misspelled this as "lien" when it became written law. I shall henceforth use the more common term as it is used today). If Og sold the land before the debt was paid, the debt would be paid from the proceeds of the sale before the land was passed, with clear ownership, to the purchaser. Or, if Og chose, he could clear the debt, and thus the lien, at any time by paying Pok in full. This was a reasonable system which benefitted all concerned.
As Tract and Gage were discussing this new venture, they realized that they could employ the same system of liens to allow an entire range of new, less wealthy owners to purchase the hut plots. The access to liens dramatically increased the available market to them, and thus the prices they could charge. And by building the huts for the new owners, rather than the owners building them by hand, he was able to allow them to keep their usual vocations. Or, to avoid developing that skill, depending on your point of view. Either way, the droves could simply move right in.
And so, after each last full moon the land owners who struggled the most could barely pay their assessments. Tract would approach them and offer to take their unproductive lands, at a loss. More than one such landowner, desperate for relief from their losses, agreed to his price.