One year, I decided to plant a garden. I laid out the garden, broke the ground, pulled up the roots and rocks, tilled the earth, added fertilizers and compost. I laid out the rows, built a fence to keep out the varmints. I built trellises, and tomato cages and bean poles. I planted tomatoes, and beans, and squash, and cucumbers. I planted corn, and peppers, and asparagus. I planted spinach and lettuce and cabbage. And I planted grapevines, blackberry brambles, strawberry patches, and some blueberry bushes. I planted enough that my family could eat fresh fruits and vegetables from the garden all year long.
As the year passed, I spent hours in the garden, weeding, waterin, and fertilizing, and when harvest time came, my garden was bountiful. There was plenty of food for my family, and because God had blessed my little garden, I gave 1 part in 10 of everything that came out of my garden to feed the poor and the homeless. The winter was long and times grew hard. When spring came, I planted again; this time because my family would need the food. Again, I spent hours in the garden, doing the work needed to bring a bountiful harvest. And again, my garden was bountiful, and I preserved enough food for my family to make it through the winter, and gave 1 part in 10 of everything to the poor and the hungry.
After the harvest, the government man came to my door.
“We heard you have a bountiful garden, and that you were able to preserve enough food for your family to make it through the winter.”
“Yes, that is true. God has rewarded my work.”
“Don’t you know that many of your neighbors are living in hunger, and won’t have enough to get through the winter? It’s not fair for you to have plenty when they have so little.”
“I’ve seen the hunger and the poverty of people in this community, and I have reached out to them. I gave 1 part in 10 of everything that came from my garden to help feed them.”
“But you still have more than they do, and that isn’t fair. There are still hungry people, while you are well fed. You have a social responsibility to share your wealth with those who don’t have your good fortune. We’ve determined that you owe 3 1/3 parts in 10 of everything that came from your garden.”
“Owe? How can I owe? Were you there to help me when I broke the ground, or pulled the stumps? Did you help plant the crops, or water and weed them through the hot summer? Were you there to help with the harvest, or the canning? If you didn’t share in the work, how can you be owed the fruits of that work? I give according to the dictates of God, not because I ‘owe’ anything to anybody.”
“Sir, that’s a bad attitude. Yes, you labored in your garden, but the poor and hungry would have liked to have a garden to work in, but they don’t have your good fortune. You profit by being a part of the village, so you owe it to the village to pay back some of that profit.”
“Very well, I will give you 2 1/3 parts in 10 of everything I have produced in my garden, since I’ve already given 1 part in 10 to the poor. If I give you more than that, my own family will go hungry.”
“We appreciate what you have given to the poor, but that does not reduce what you owe. 30% is the levy. But because we are generous, and want to encourage people like you to give, we will allow you to deduct the 1 part in 10 you already gave, and only apply the tax to what you have left, which means you only owe us 3 parts in 10.”
The government man took his 3 parts in 10 of the bounty of my garden, and used it to feed the poor, except for what he took to compensate him for his efforts in feeding the poor. My family and I got hungry as the winter seemed to linger even longer that year, but we made it through to spring. I planted a larger garden, because times were still hard, and I saw the hungry people in my town, and I knew the government man would be back. I worked longer hours in the larger garden to make sure I had a bountiful harvest.
Once again, God blessed my garden with a bountiful harvest, and once again, I gave 1 part in 10 to the poor and hungry, and set aside 3 parts in 10 for the government man, saving 6 parts in 10 for my family.
When the government man came, I showed him the 3 parts in 10 that were my tax.
He said, “We’ve noticed that your garden is larger and you are producing even more food. Why should you prosper when others go hungry?”
“My garden is larger not because I’m prospering, but because I increased the size of my garden enough to feed my family through the winter after giving my 1 in 10 to the poor and my 3 in 10 to you.”
“That may be true but it doesn’t matter. Your garden is bigger and producing more food; that means you can easily afford to give more. Your tax this year is 5 parts in 10 of everything your garden has produced.”
“Sir, that isn’t fair. Yes, I raised more, but because you get 3 parts in 10, you are already getting more as well. Don’t raise the parts as well! I can’t do that! My family went hungry last winter because we gave so much. If I give even more, we might starve!”
“Spare me your greed, sir! I look around and I see bushels of fresh produce and shelves filled with cans of preserved fruits and vegetables. You live at ease in the lap of luxury while your neighbors live in hunger and poverty. You are a greedy man, selfish and hateful, like all wealthy men. You have a social responsibility to meet the needs of the hungry people in this community, and it is my job to see that you do so. Give us the 5 in 10 parts, or we will take everything you have!”
The government man took his 5 in 10, and left us with what was left, and distributed our produce throughout the town to the hungry and poor, except of course for the part he kept as payment for his services. The winter was even longer and colder that year. My family was desperately hungry, and that winter is not one we care to remember.
When spring came, I was too weak to do the planting myself. I went down to where the poor and hungry stayed to hire some help for my fields. I offered to share a part of the crop with them at harvest time if they would work with me, and while several locals turned down the offer, saying they could eat from my garden without working for it, three young visitors from another village agreed to work with me.
With them helping, I was able to clear a larger amount of land for a larger garden. I gave each of my helpers their own plot to work for themselves, and together we all worked the main garden
We worked hard throughout the summer, and once again, God blessed us with a bountiful harvest. I set aside 1 part in 10 for God’s gift to the poor, 6 parts in 10 for the tax on the increased produce, and 3 parts in 10 to feed my family. The men who helped me got all of the food they raised in their plots, less 3 parts in 10 for their tax, and went home to feed their families for the winter, promising to return the next spring.
When the government man came, he was angry.
“How dare you take advantage of those poor men like you have? They are visitors to our land, and you forced them to work like servants. You have a social responsibility to meat their needs, not to exploit them! You are wealthy and greedy beyond all imagination! Look at all you have! When will it be enough for you? You will pay the tax on what the men raised on the plots you gave them out of your crop, refunding the 3 in 10 that you withheld from them, and then you will pay a penalty for abusing them as you did. That, on top of the 6 in 10 you already owe amounts to 8 parts in 10 of everything you produced in your garden.”
“Sir, if you take that much, my family will starve!”
“We can’t be held responsible for every undercapitalized farmer out there. Maybe you’ll learn a valuable lesson from this.”
The government man walked away with 8 parts in 10 from everything my garden had produced. That winter was the worst one yet. The weather wasn’t bad, but we nearly starved to death. We ate everything that the government man had left us, and it wasn’t enough. I tried to get some food for my family from the government man, but he turned me away, along with many others, saying we were too wealthy to need government food. He said we didn’t look hungry enough.
Spring came, and I went to the young men who worked with me the year before, but they told me that they were ‘organized’ now, and that I would have to give them 1 part in 10 each of the total harvest, plus all that they raised on their plots, plus I would have to pay their harvest tax.
It was too much. There was no way I could pay them and still have enough to pay my taxes, and feed my family. I would have to figure out another way. I told the young men I had no need for their labor this year, and went home.
A week later, the government man came, along with an angry mob. In the mob were the three young men, as well as many of the poor and hungry people of the town.
The government man asked me, ”Is it true what these three young men have told me? Did you fire them for no reason at all?”
“No sir, that isn’t true. I’m not hiring them because I can’t afford them this year.”
“You can’t afford? How greedy are you? You have one of the largest gardens in the county! Stop thinking about yourself and think about others for a change. What about what these young men need? Don’t they have the right to hold a job, and to provide for their families? You have a social responsibility to make sure that they are able to do productive labor!”
“Sir, I would be happy to give them a job if I had one to give, but I don’t. Their demands are too high for me to be able to afford them. I might be able to hire one at their new rates, but certainly not three.”
At this, the young men began to shout about solidarity, and how if all couldn’t work, none would. The crowd rallied around them and began to yell slogans and to call me names and threaten my family.
While the government man stood and smiled at the crowd in encouragement, I thought about the last few years. My garden had started as a way to feed my family, and now I was feeding almost half the village and racking up a back breaking debt all while my family was slowly starving. It simply wasn’t worth the effort anymore. I decided not to put in a garden, and to find another way to support my family.
When I announced my intention to abandon my garden, the crowd went silent as death. Worried looks filled their faces as they began to wonder how they would survive the coming winter. They turned to the government man who turned to me, shaking in fury.
“How dare you, sir! You have prospered for years in this village through exploiting the labor of visitors, and through exploiting the land you live on. And now, when we ask for just a little social responsibility, you decide to take your wealth and go home, leaving us destitute? No sir! That’s not fair, and we won’t allow it. If you won’t raise a garden on your land, we’ll take your land from you. In fact, the land belongs to all of us, as do the fruits of that land. Your greed and selfishness is what has caused so many of your neighbors to live in hunger. I don’t know why we tolerated you and your selfishness for so long. We don’t need you and your kind here. We look out for each other. Take your greed and your family, and leave this place immediately!”
The crowd roared their approval as I gathered my wife and children, and began the long walk to the next village to start all over again. As we gathered the few belongings the crowd would allow us to take, I heard them shouting and clapping in happiness, that soon they would be able to have all the food they wanted, now that they were landowners and I was no longer there to oppress them. I guided my family through the crowd and reached the edge of the village. My former neighbors cheered at my departure, but they fell silent when I turned and addressed them.
“Folks, I’m leaving, and you have all the lands that my garden used to sit on, and you are welcome to it and all that it will produce. I only have one question for you; which one of you will be the first one to pull the plow?”
I turned and walked away, and as we left the village, I heard the first fights breaking out.
The Garden of Social Responsibility
Next entry: It's a Question of Priorities
Previous entry: Why Health Care Reform Failed. Again. And How to Get it Right