My thoughts on taxes in medieval-ish settings remain controversial. So it goes. Here are some more taxes.
Paranatural (edited) |
1. To discourage something, as part of a broader policy. The state doesn't want everyone to wear imported fabric when local fabric will do, so imported fabric is heavily taxed.
2. To raise revenue. Raising existing taxes is often difficult. Rates are set by tradition; adjust them and people might rebel. New taxes are safer. The state doesn't care how many windows you have. Windows are just a convenient measurement of building size, occupancy, etc... until people start making buildings without windows.
The second method leads to ludicrous or counterintuitive taxes. If a thing is legible to a state, it has been taxed at some point. To make a setting weirder (but never as weird as real life), take a thing and imagine how a slightly disorganized state would tax it. The more legible, the better. Counting is very legible. Weight and volume are tricky. Emotions, names, etc. are next to impossible.
People will try anything to get out of paying taxes. I remember a vague quote I can't source that goes something like, "Since the poor cannot pay, and the rich will not pay, the burden falls ever on the middling sort." For more information (and things to argue about), see Seeing Like A State (Scott, 1998) and/or The Art of Not Being Governed (Scott, 2009).
1d20 Ludicrous Taxes
1. Distance Tax
Pay for perspective. The state is shrouded in a fog-like effect. Pay to wear an amulet that grants 10', 50', 100', etc. of clear air. Peasants navigate by ropes and painted floors; the rich display art on billboards. Amulets expire monthly.
2. Language Tax
The state wants polyglots. The more languages you can demonstrate, the less tax you pay. Monoglots have to wear a special hat (and pay for it, of course). With fluency in five or more languages, you are exempt from the salt tax and road tax, but have to spend an hour a week instructing the youth (who will lob spitballs at you with unnerving accuracy).
3. Sword Tax
To discourage violence and rebellion, swords are heavily taxed. Maces, bows, cannons, tridents, etc. are not as heavily taxed. Outlandish weapons proliferate. Desperate tax inspectors search for anything that could potentially be a sword, including cutlery, daggers, elves (around the ears), etc.
4. Gravity Tax
Pay up or float off. Your local Civic Mage pours some gravity into you every Thursday if you've paid your taxes. If not, gravity fades over a few weeks until you drift upwards like an untethered balloon. Peasants wear lead shoes and shuffle. Misers and the elderly bounce around indoors, eating off the top of wardrobes. Maybe the entire state is inverted?
5. Vwl Tx
Xpnsv. Brdn flls mstly n wrtrs. Xprmntl vwls.
6. Left Turn Tax
Inspectors on every street corner directing traffic and collecting
coins. Continual urban smuggling. Pedestrians unaffected unless carrying more than 20lbs; relay chains sometimes employed on market days.
7. Stair Tax
A prosperity tax without the need for accurate records (in theory). Promotes sprawling buildings, or, where that isn't possible, ladders and bucket elevators.
8. Hat Tax
Hats (or at least some form of head covering) are
mandatory (and vital, given the local climate). Arguments over what
constitutes a hat, what materials are allowable, etc. dominate all
discussions. Hoods are popular among the peasantry, as they are taxed as
shirts. Among the nobility, enormous convoluted constructions or shoes
with head-sheltering backs proliferate. Tax inspectors are fed up and
have started attacking milliners in the dead of the night.
9. Height Tax
The state wants tall soldier-citizens. The state doesn't have the right to ask a citizen to remove their footwear. I'm sure you can work out the rest. Epidemic of broken ankles and bruised foreheads.
10. Frog Tax
The state hates frogs. If you have a frog on the premises, even a depiction of a frog, or even an item that could be mistaken for a frog by an overworked inspector, expect a very heavy fine. The Resistance operates frog farms, smuggles them into the homes of the loathsome nobility. Frog-hunting terriers are prized.
Pieter Brueghel the Younger |
11. Colour Tax
Another prosperity tax. How many colours can an inspector see when they look at your house, your clothes, or your place of work? Dyes and paints proliferate. Families choose a shade and slather it on everything. Arguments over hue and tone pit tax collectors against artists and dye-makers. Tax collectors carry painted wood chips for reference.
12. Travel Tax
To discourage emigration and searching for better work (and also to use up a surplus of strong dvangerworm cord). Citizens are assigned a home ring (iron, bolted to the foundations), and are physically tethered to it with cord. Can buy additional 100' lengths of cord for a fee. Cord colours and banding patterns change annually. Streets are a tangle. Doors have gaps. Nobles have carts with miniature houses and portable rings. Anyone without a cord is shunned or mobbed. Foreigners escorted from the border to their residence under armed guard. Lengths of cord lopped off as punishment for crimes. Maximum cord lengths sometimes tattooed on arms.
13. Nipple Tax
A convenient measure of household membership and livestock. Poultry is popular, as are snails. Mutilation doesn't get you out of the tax, but does inspire proverbs and epithets. "Nipplesnipper here doesn't want to pay."
14. Furrow Tax
Fields taxed by furrows, by walking along one end and counting the number of lines. Farmers plough in spirals, ovals, or curls. Same methodology applied to village road layout, with similar results. General cultural distaste for hard edges and terminating lines.
15. Clerical Tax
Polytheism is more-or-less mandatory, since different gods control crop growth, weather, metallurgy, commerce, travel, childbirth, etc. Each quarter, or for a special fee at any time, citizens select the number of gods they wish to invoke and pay the appropriate tax. Priests of various gods are jealous of their own portfolio, yet try to add more domains to increase revenue. Invoking a god without paying the correct tax sometimes attracts divine wrath, as the gods also get a cut (via state-sponsored rites and sacrifices).
16. Infernal Tax
Selling souls (or other services) to a select cadre of devils is culturally acceptable, but in return, the state demands its share. The devils like the arrangement (for both fiendish and economic reasons), and form a shadow bureaucracy. The state trades its share to the devils for additional benefits.
17. Pot and Bucket Tax
Any container that can contain the owner's head is taxed and stamped. Buckets, barrels, pots, and cauldrons develop elongated forms, narrow necks, or simply disappear. Massive wine and oil decanting stations on the border. Pans (with lips shorter than a thumb's breadth) are taxed as shields.
18. Sobriety Tax
Used to maintain the oligarchy. If everyone is
inebriated, the sober have a monopoly on clear-headed decisions.
Somewhat hampered by the need for skilled labour, the desire of the
nobility to get drunk and stay drunk, and constant supply chain issues.
Little streams of alcohol trickling from the rocks cause erosion.
Burning braziers of herbs in public locations. Probably a bad idea, but
all the reform-minded folks are absolutely smashed and can't agree on a
course of action.
19. Shoe Tax
Foreign shoes are ruining the state's economy! Foreign nails, foreign leather, foreign fashions! Shoe imports are taxed, forcing most visitors to buy new shoes at the border and ceremonial burn their old footwear (or sell it to eager vendors). Nobles wear additional imported shoes on the end of their regular shoes and display dazzling cabinets of impractical footwear.
20. Tax Tax
A surcharge applied to a household or citizen's tax total, based on the number of taxes paid, the difficulty of collection, and the whims of the tax collector. A tax tax tax is applied to the tax collectors.
"Nipplesnipper here doesn't want to pay." is just peak Skerples. No further questions yer honour.
ReplyDeleteI'm scared that this sentence is so memorable that it is going to somehow work its way into everyday speech, and then I'm going to have a lot of explaining to do.
DeleteOddly enough, there is historical precedent... sort of.
Deletehttps://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Old_Croghan_Man
The Sobriety Tax is like a not quite reverse version of The Inebriati from Mitchell and Webb https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lIv96reVlAE
ReplyDeleteThe Inebriati may be running the state as a grand social experiment. Or possibly not.
DeleteRolling...4
ReplyDeleteThe postage stamp-sized County of Pollod has a gravity problem. Magical residue left over from the Mage Wars has left an area of a few square miles without gravity; those who enter float off and, eventually, drift into areas of normal gravity and predictably return to the ground the quick way. Unfortunately, the area also sat astride a very nice trade route - before "heavy magic", travelers had to go miles out of the way.
Then, a noble hired a wizard to discover a spell that negates the gravitational effects of the area and allows people to go about their days unhindered. At first the noble merely set up a toll booth and fined merchants and travelers who wanted to shave some time off their journey. This was followed by the usual suspects who cater to travelers.
Peasants being cunning survivors, eventually they figured out how to grow and harvest root vegetables without letting them float away. There was a land speculation boom. The Gravity Tax soon followed. The noble bought his second least-useful son a title and put him in charge. Time passes.
Everyone agrees the gravity tax is unbearable, but everyone also agrees that without "heavy magic" the whole County would float off. Until some solution can be formulated and a proper tax revolt can occur, people make do.
Plants have deep roots, and trailing vines stretch far into the sky; the only animals are things like insects and reptiles that can cling to the "ceiling". Bats proliferate. A kind of largish sloth is the County's national animal.
People bolt their furniture to the floor and eat food as it floats around them, no need for dishes. Drinking liquids is an acquired skill. Beds are cocoons strapped to the ground. Peasants shuffle around with lead shoes. The rich, after several generations of tax evasion, are now freakishly tall and thin and have a variety of developmental disorders - many can no longer leave the County without crumpling.
Most houses are at least partly underground, as the low gravity makes shifting debris than elsewhere - although neighboring provinces have complained about the dirt and rock from new excavations occasionally raining down. A small population of dwarves was imported to help with the work.
There is a literal underground, a community of criminals and runaways in the deeper shafts trying to adapt to life in low gravity, plotting to steal the secret of heavy gravity from the Civic Wizards, and dreaming of launching those damn Thinbloods into the Sun.
'slng 'swr rllng - 5!
ReplyDeleteAt first - everyone agreed with the king's forthright and reasonable logic. Writing is important to business, the more you need to write - the more business you must be doing! The courtiers, many of whom had never worked a day in their lives or indeed written a jot of ink on anything resembling paper themselves, all patted themselves on the back and went back to doing life-sized-orgy-chess, peasant-skeet-shooting, opium and other noble sports.
^t f1rst, p30pl3 j*st *s3d c0mm0n s*bst1t*t10ns *nt1l th3 k1ng d3cr33d ^n7th1ng wh1ch ^cts l1k3 ^ v0w3l 1s ^ v0w3l.
th'n p'pl g't m'r cr't'v
? R$ [=] bbcc >>- _^- >[p] >>^ bcdfghjklmnpqrstvwxz. & B$ ⏎ 2 nrml
(A rich form of rhyming slang quickly developed of pictograms and overtook the alphabet. And so business returned to normal)
#4 made me think of this: https://preview.redd.it/zlwg2389fr271.jpg?width=640&crop=smart&auto=webp&s=9c06490cc51c9084df5bd52a72d8008f4b2fd299
ReplyDelete