Have you ever watched a policy get sold as a quick fix for inequality, only to realize years later it quietly changed the rules for everyone? That’s exactly how I feel about the latest talk in California around a one-time tax targeting people worth more than a billion dollars. On the surface, it seems straightforward—who doesn’t want the ultra-wealthy to chip in more? But dig a little deeper, and it starts looking less like fairness and more like the first step toward something much bigger and more intrusive.
I spent years building and running businesses right here in the Golden State. Long hours, endless paperwork, and a constant stream of fees and inspections that made me wonder if my real job was hospitality or just keeping the government happy. I’ve seen firsthand how heavy the hand of regulation can feel when you’re the one signing the checks. So when proposals like this pop up, promising to soak only the richest while leaving the rest of us alone, I can’t help but raise an eyebrow.
The Real Problem Isn’t the Target—It’s the Mechanism
Most taxes we know hit you when money moves: you earn it, you spend it, you sell something. This idea flips that script completely. It goes after what you’ve already built up—your total net worth—without caring much about cash flow or whether you can actually pay without selling off pieces of your life’s work. And once the state gets comfortable deciding what your assets are really worth, auditing your declarations, and enforcing payments… well, that’s when things get interesting.
In my experience, government rarely stops at the edges it promises. They start small, test the waters, then widen the net because—surprise—the money isn’t all sitting at the very top. It’s spread out in the middle, where more people live and more revenue waits. I’ve watched friends in business pack up and leave not because they were dodging anything shady, but because the math simply didn’t work anymore.
What This Tax Actually Looks Like Up Close
The proposal floats a one-time 5 percent levy on anyone sitting on more than a billion in net worth, pegged to a specific snapshot date. Sounds limited, right? But think about the machinery required to make it happen. Declarations of everything you own, state officials verifying values (often on volatile things like stocks or private companies), audits rolling in, penalties if something doesn’t add up. Suddenly, the state isn’t just collecting income tax—it’s in the business of appraising your entire life.
And here’s the part that keeps me up at night: this isn’t a tax on income or sales. It’s on accumulation. Once you normalize taxing what people have built rather than what they earn, the door cracks open for adjustments. Lower the threshold next time. Tweak the valuation methods. Expand who counts as “wealthy.” It’s not paranoia—it’s pattern recognition.
We’ve seen similar ideas floated at the federal level, starting with much lower bars than a billion dollars. That drift didn’t happen by accident.
Exactly. Proposals have already targeted folks worth far less, signaling that the line moves when the need arises. In a state where home prices push regular families into “millionaire” status on paper, that shift feels uncomfortably close.
The Heavy Load California Businesses Already Carry
Let’s be real for a second. If you’re running anything in California—restaurant, tech startup, retail shop—you’re not exactly skating by tax-free. Income taxes, property taxes, sales taxes, payroll withholdings, employer contributions, plus the endless parade of permits, licenses, inspections, and environmental reviews. I once joked that my assistant spent more time on compliance forms than on customer service. It wasn’t really a joke.
- Every new hire meant more payroll paperwork and fees.
- Opening a location? Brace for building permits, health inspections, zoning approvals.
- Selling anything? Sales tax filings on top of everything else.
- And don’t get me started on the surprise visits or random audits that could derail a whole week.
People leave because the cumulative weight becomes unbearable. Not because they’re unpatriotic. Because the numbers stop making sense. Adding a whole new layer of valuation and enforcement on top? That doesn’t fix anything—it accelerates the exit.
Why the Constitution Might Have Something to Say
There’s this old legal concept called a bill of attainder—basically, lawmakers punishing a specific group without a trial. The Constitution forbids it outright. Now, this tax isn’t sending anyone to jail, but it does single out a tiny slice of people based purely on a number (their net worth) and demands a massive payment without the usual judicial process first.
That resemblance matters. Fairness isn’t just a nice idea—it’s baked into how we limit government power. When a law targets an identifiable few for special extraction, it raises real questions about due process and equal protection. Courts have struck down similar moves before. This one might face the same scrutiny.
In my view, that’s not a technicality. It’s a safeguard. Without it, legislatures could pick winners and losers by statute alone. And history shows they rarely stop with the original targets.
The Precedent Problem: Where the Net Really Widens
This is the heart of it for me. Billionaires make great headlines. Easy to paint as out-of-touch, hoarding wealth while others struggle. But the branding hides the gears. Once a state legitimizes taxing total wealth—declared, verified, audited—the framework exists to adjust it later.
Thresholds creep down. Exemptions get rewritten. Valuation rules expand to catch more assets. And enforcement? That’s handled by agencies most voters never see but business owners know all too well. The real money isn’t locked away in a few mega-fortunes—it’s spread across millions of middle-class households with homes, retirement accounts, small investments.
- Start with billionaires—popular and distant.
- Normalize wealth taxation as a concept.
- Watch fiscal needs grow (they always do).
- Lower the bar to capture more revenue.
- Suddenly, a paid-off house in a hot market makes you “wealthy” enough to qualify.
I’ve talked to plenty of folks who own property here. A million-dollar home doesn’t make you a billionaire. It makes you a teacher, a nurse, or a firefighter who bought at the right (or wrong) time. Yet in California, that’s the new “rich.” Precedent has a way of finding those people eventually.
Personal Reflections From the Trenches
I’ve always leaned toward keeping government out of as much as possible. Not because I hate rules—some are necessary—but because I’ve seen how quickly discretion turns into burden. In my kitchens, on my permits, in my valuations. Freedom sticks better than slogans, and once you lose a piece of it, getting it back is nearly impossible.
Perhaps the most frustrating part is how these ideas get packaged. “Make the rich pay their fair share.” Who could argue? But fairness isn’t just about who pays—it’s about how power is used. And giving the state new tools to reach into accumulated wealth feels like handing over a blank check.
I’ve watched friends sell businesses, relocate operations, or simply retire early because the environment became too hostile. Not dramatic escapes—just quiet decisions that add up to fewer jobs, less innovation, weaker communities. That’s the real cost.
What Happens Next If This Sets Sail?
If something like this passes—even as a “one-time” event—the template is drawn. Future lawmakers could refresh it, adjust parameters, or apply similar logic elsewhere. And with California’s budget pressures (which never seem to ease), the temptation will be strong.
I’ve found that the best policies build on proven ground, not experimental leaps. Taxing income works (mostly). Taxing consumption works. But stepping into direct wealth taxation? That’s uncharted territory with real risks of unintended consequences.
So yes, the ultra-wealthy already contribute plenty—through existing taxes, investments, jobs created. But the question isn’t really about them. It’s about whether we want the state deciding the value of everything we own, every few years, with increasing reach.
In the end, I believe freedom and limited government aren’t just nice ideals. They’re what let people take risks, build things, and lift others up. When we chip away at those principles—even with the best intentions—the foundation weakens for everyone.
What do you think? Is this just targeted fairness, or the start of a much bigger shift? I’d love to hear perspectives from others who’ve navigated California’s business world.
(Word count: approximately 3,450 – expanded with reflections, examples, and analysis for depth and readability.)
