On January 4, the Wall Street Journal ran a story detailing how the “fiscal cliff” deal would affect the taxes of the wealthy. The article was standard WSJ fare, catering to its upper-end audience. But the graphic accompanying it was the height of silliness. A few weeks later, it caught the eye of someone in the left-wing blogosphere, where it has since been roundly derided for depicting a panoply of sad-sack rich people apparently devastated that President Obama has raised their tax rate by a few percentage points. Though the article itself was fairly straight-forward, the disconnect between the text — which stated that, “while the top 1% of taxpayers will bear the biggest burden, many other families, affluent and poor, will pay more as well” — and the illustration was major. I see the affluent folks in the graphic, but where are the poor ones?
Blogger Xenos wonders why even the minority couple whose taxes haven’t increased at all — convenient, isn’t it, that this Obama constituency makes out quite nicely under his policies — is so depressed. Did the “gifts” the president promised them not arrive on time? Xenos writes:
Yes, in that graphic, every single one of those families makes a six figure income, the lowest being $180 thousand, and yet because of the new tax hikes imposed by Obama, they all appear as though he ran over the family dog.
The median household income in the U.S. between 2007-2011 was $52,762, but the American people are all supposed to shed tears for those that make between three to twelve times as much? Seriously, how out of touch do you have to be to think that? Of course, this is the same outfit that supported a guy who thought making $250k qualified as “middle income”.
Economist Brad DeLong asks, “Just how many female-headed single-parent families with two children under 10 are there in the United States making $260K/year, anyway?” The answer, via one of his tweeting readers:
@delong [The] CPS March supplement finds 1-3 each year from 2008-2012 [in their random sample], suggesting a couple of thousand [single mothers with two kids under ten making $260K/year or more], out of 16-17 million single mothers
— Evan Roberts (@evanrobertsnz) January 16, 2013
DeLong’s riposte: “But they all read the Wall Street Journal, and are miserable.”
At Mother Jones, Kevin Drum helpfully annotates the tax increases faced by each representative Journal reader, highlighting exactly “why all these well-to-do wage slaves feel so brutally treated.”
Yup, that family of four faces the largest spike in tax rates, a whopping 3.3 percent of its $650,o00 income. The news, perhaps broken to them at the breakfast table in a Journal article or by the Fox Business Network host gesticulating wildly on the dining room TV (flatscreen, high-def, a cool $8,999 at your local Best Buy), has them crying into their oatmeal. Even the doe-eyed children, stoically clinging to their parents, look as if they’ve just been told Santa Claus isn’t real. You can imagine the conversation at the family meeting: But why, Daddy? Why does that evil Obama man want to take away my toys? The father glowers from the page, quietly furious that government thugs will now be redistributing the hard-earned sweat from his brow to the unworthy 47 percent. His wife, haggard and sleepless, tries to shield her babies from the realization that their mommy may have to choose between groceries and gas for her brand-new Mercedes. Will she be able to put food on the table? Will she have to choose between two weeks in the Bahamas and — gasp — slumming it in Cabo with the rest of the spring-break crowd? What will become of this poor family?
Yesterday, however, the Journal managed to outdo itself, running a headline that would tug at the heartstrings of that married couple, who surely sit down with their CPA every year for some quality estate planning time:
Can You Trust Your Kid With $5.25 Million?
Mr. and Mrs. Sad Sack may be pulling down a measly $650k at the moment, but give them twenty years! We’re talking some serious inheritance here. And the Journal is all over their future dilemma. Despite the fact that “Congress agreed on permanent estate-tax rules that are much more generous than many financial planners had expected,” the Journal knows that wealthy families are too smart to feel relieved:
Some aren’t celebrating, however. Instead, they are grappling with new questions about how best to set up trusts for their heirs—while keeping a measure of control over their wealth . . . . [S]ome ultrawealthy families are wondering whether they want to leave heirs that much tax-free money after all. Can their children handle a payday of as much as $10.5 million without losing their motivation to work hard and be productive?
No wonder the folks in the graphic look so distraught. They have worries.
Michael Puzo, chair of the private client group at Boston trust specialist Hemenway & Barnes, says he set one up for a Massachusetts couple late last year after they expressed worries that a child getting the money too soon might just “hang out on the beach,” Mr. Puzo says. Instead, the child will learn about the multimillion-dollar inheritance at age 30.
If millionaire parents are concerned that their kids will become beach bums, they’ll definitely want to hide the Journal’s style section from the same day, which ran a piece on “The New Bohemians” that held troublesome news for anyone concerned with Junior’s granola-crunching ways. “The haute hippie look reminiscent of faraway places has returned in a smart new form—and just in time for the warm days ahead,” the article states. Today’s boho duds can pair nicely with more polished pieces, however:
You could wear Mr. Altuzarra’s ikat print dress on holiday in, say, Ibiza, but his intention was to design something more functional. “We thought about it for our customer who has to go to work and then to a dinner,” he said.
A holiday in Ibiza? Come on, now. How will the average Journal reader afford Ibiza now that the IRS is requisitioning an extra 1 to 3 percent of her income?
Still, the examples of “bohemian chic” showcased in the article aren’t for actual bohemians. Like the ludicrous graphic and the risible concern for lazy millionaires, the sartorial selections cater to the Journal’s upscale audience. There are some seriously ugly Givenchy trousers for $2,265, a fringed Bottega Veneta tote for $6,650, and a crocheted Salvatore Ferragamo skirt (very Britney Spears, circa 1999) for $4,800.
For the down-in-the-dumps career woman with the $250k job and the stuffy un-boho blazer, may I suggest some retail therapy?





