Taking the Fun Out of Taxation

The new state sales tax has saddled most college communities with a massive load of pointless paperwork; the result has been a time-consuming combination of confusion and inconvenience for administrators, students, and bookstores alike.

Because the new tax law was poorly drafted, the state's colleges have been placed in an impossible position: follow the law exactly and they make it almost impossible for students to receive the permissible exemption from the three per cent tax; facilitate the exemption process, and they are almost certain to violate the letter of the law.

Technically, the new law demands that for every book a student wants to have exempted, he must go to an individual professor and have an individual exemption slip signed. This procedure is so absurd and so time-consuming that it could have had only one result. No one would have used it.

Colleges predictably found a way out. Many of them, Harvard included, printed large numbers of exemption forms and merely handed them out to their students. Harvard not only had one of its top administrators (Dean Monro) sign all slips -- something many schools did -- but also numbered the forms and insisted that students sign out for a certain number at any one tmie. Apparently an example of exaggerated mistrust of students, this was only a reflection of an exaggerated concern with meeting the requirements of the law: Harvard wanted some formal "control" over the forms instead of dispensing them freely as some colleges did.

The state, through an administrative ruling, accepted this type of procedure. Yet, there were other parts of the law that caused confusion, and, perhaps, actually put the University in violation. The law states that only required books are to be exempted; Harvard said either required or recommended books could receive exemptions, contending that here, at least, the distinction is often so negligible to be nonexistent. Is the University technically right? Who knows? Again, it was a "damned-if-you-do," "damned if you don't" situation that Harvard faced.

The law's problems are compounded in the bookstore, where usually long lines seem to move slower and where the stores will have to process and store all the slips. And even with the time, worry, and expense invested to make this system work, a significant number of students aren't using it. The savings seem too small to justify the work.

All this is slightly understandable in the context of Massachusetts politics and, specifically, the legislative turmoil that produced the sales tax. Gov. John A. Volpe fought long and hard for the tax, submitting proposal after proposal until the staunch Democratic opposition finally weakened. The law is less than a year old, and even without the fight, some mistakes could have been expected.

But that is all old hat. When the November election is over and the tax has presumably passed a popular vote (it is on the ballot) change should come. The General Court (legislature) should decide whether to tax all books or no books at all. Right now, the way the change goes seems almost less important than the change itself. Either way the sum of money involved seems negligible. But the continued confusion--a confusion which even the bureaucrats in the state tax office admit--is foolish and undermines the confidence the people have in the law.

Above all, end the ambiguity. Let the law be certain.