RALEIGH – I’m not a yes-butinski. But it’s not for want of temptation.
“Yes-butinski” is a highly useful technical term to describe the phenomenon of articulating a general rule and then carving out a convenient exception. I invented it about 15 minutes ago. Here’s how to use it in a sentence: “After conservative U.S. Sen. Foghorn Leghorn called for fiscal restraint at a meeting of the Iowa Ethanol Peddlers convention, where he endorsed their legislative platform, critics called him a yes-butinski.”
Governments haven’t gotten bloated because politicians have forced handouts upon unwilling citizens. It is a natural human temptation to welcome something for nothing. Fortunately, it’s not the only natural impulse. We are also bred to appreciate hard work, to tinker and innovate, and to trade the fruits of our labors with others we trust. But the tendencies to shirk, to envy, and to equivocate are also there. Successful politicians recognize and take advantage of them to attract votes by promising simultaneously to stop wasting money on those people while also promising groups of voters that their own “needs” will be taken care of.
I want government to be effective but limited to its proper sphere. That’s because I want to minimize the use of force in human relations. But as any regular reader must know, I am also a history nut. My yes-butinksi temptation involves state historic sites and museums. I love them. I’ve taken the Little Conqueror and the Little General to a number of North Carolina’s fine offerings, from the mountains to the coast. They particularly enjoyed last year’s reenactment of the Revolutionary War skirmish at the House in the Horseshoe.
So the appreciation is there. Still, I do not think it proper to force millions of North Carolinians to pay (even slightly) higher taxes so my boys and I can enjoy an afternoon learning about history. Such programs and attractions should be financed voluntarily, by users at the door and by donors who value them. Not only is it wrong to compel what amounts to a redistribution of resources up the income scale – the audience for museums and cultural offerings has a higher average income than the general public does – but it also interrupts the feedback loop that makes any enterprise successful. If cultural institutions don’t float or sink based upon the actions of willing patrons, they tend to indulge the sometimes-esoteric interests of their staff rather than the preferences of their audiences.
When a museum that everyone says is “spectacular” and “really popular” can’t attract enough voluntary support to survive, that’s important information. Perhaps the praise is more marketing hype than reality. Perhaps the institution is poorly managed. Unfortunately, forcing taxpayers to keep the place going is not likely to lead to improvement.
A recent case in point is the Graveyard of the Atlantic Museum on the Outer Banks. Built mostly with taxpayer money, the museum was supposedly a major draw for tourists and yet struggled to raise enough local and private money to make a real go of it. So the state has now brought the museum fully into the governmental fold, along with $300,000 a year in annual subsidy from state taxpayers. If the museum was truly a factor in significantly increasing tourism, why weren’t local hotels, restaurants, and other businesses willing to fund it? Why could it not raise substantial funds from presumably satisfied visitors?
I know that some state museums get a lot of attendance from public school classes, but that’s hardly an argument for direct state ownership and subsidy. Schools should have budgets designated for non-classroom education, from which they can freely choose to spend dollars on whatever trips and resources best suit their needs. They shouldn’t be compelled to visit state institutions or otherwise forego any benefit from the money.
If North Carolina is ever going to set better budgetary priorities and get more bang for the taxpayers’ buck, there will have to be fewer yes-butinskis demanding handouts.
Hood is president of the John Locke Foundation.