Poetic justice
On of those defining moments in an educated life is when you realize that something learned a long time ago is finally relevant. Let’s set the situation. We’re in a physics class around 1970 and the topic of the day is static electricity. We start with the wimpy foil leaf that moves in response to an ebony rod that was rubbed with rabbit fur. Boring. Write up the lab report and wait for the next class.
Two days later. At the front of the room is a huge noisy machine with a shiny globe, and we join hands in a long line to worship the Van de Graaff generator that has been brought forth to the altar demonstration bench in the front of the classroom. Enough imagery; on to the lesson. We all join hands, the first person touches the machine and then we wait, for the one at the end to “let go”. Snap, crackle, pop! As any student can tell you, it is memorable. But where’s the knowledge capsule?
Jump forward to the present day, where a federal goverment busy “chumming for votes” promises to cut taxes. Specifically, sales taxes. Snap, crackle, pop! The provincial counterpart winces, realizing that a drop in taxes is like our line of statically linked students, since we pay a tax based on another tax. Less money in one pocket means less money in another. Symbiotic. Or is it parasitic? I missed the biology course that serves as collateral learning. I’m sure that anyone with a foundation in economics can demonstrate the actual effect with a series of formulae.
Where was I? Oh yes, the lesson. Finance ministers love it when they can blame the tax on somebody else. They hate it when the person at the front of the line changes the rules, and the person at the end gets zapped. Poetic justice? Oh yes! For once, I may pay a little less, but the leech (governmentally speaking) will be the one that is deprived. Finally the lesson in static electricity becomes meaningful.
