People participate in a “March on Billionaires” event in New York City on July 17, 2020. Spencer Platt/Getty Images
Commentary
California was my home for most of my adult life—long enough to know that what looks good in a campaign slogan can feel very different when you’re the one carrying the load.
I built restaurants there. I employed people there. I signed permits, licenses, and applications like they were holiday cards. I navigated agencies that asked for more paperwork than profit statements. I paid into a system that always wanted one more filing, one more inspection, one more approval, one more fee. The joke was that my assistant didn’t work in hospitality—she worked in compliance. And it was true. That state turns compliance into a profession.
So when I see the latest proposal—a one-time 5 percent tax on anyone whose net worth exceeds $1 billion—I don’t see Robin Hood. I see Sacramento writing itself a permission slip.
The pitch says “billionaires.” But the mechanism says “total assessed wealth, declared by the owner, verified by the state, and enforceable through audit.” That’s a power move, not a nuance.
A Tax Based on Valuation, Not Reality
Most taxes in America hit earnings or consumption. You pay when you make money, or when you buy something, or when you sell something. This proposal taxes accumulation. It doesn’t ask what you can afford. It asks what you have, and then hands a calculator to the agencies to determine the bill.
We’ve seen how this evolves. The Biden administration and Vice President Kamala Harris already proposed a federal wealth tax on Americans worth $100 million or more. Not billionaires—$100 million. That’s a signal flare, not a footnote.
It tells you exactly what you need to know: This idea isn’t anchored at the top. It’s already drifting toward the middle.
And middle is where most of the money actually lives.
