What Sanders Is Actually Proposing

Bernie Sanders wants to give you $3,600 a year. In exchange, the federal government gets permanent authority to monitor the net worth of every American wealthy enough to owe the tax, compel annual asset disclosures, and build an enforcement apparatus that makes the current IRS look modest. That's the deal on the table. Read the fine print before you cash the check.

The Make Billionaires Pay Act — Sanders' latest constitutional adventure, introduced in April 2026 alongside Representatives Barbara Lee and Rashida Tlaib — would impose a 1 percent annual levy on net wealth above $32 million, scaling to 8 percent on wealth exceeding $10 billion. The revenue, Sanders promises, would fund $3,600 annual checks to most working and middle-class households across the country.

I grew up in San Antonio in a house where my uncle owned a small trucking company. Three trucks, four employees, lease payments that never stopped. Every year the government wanted more — payroll taxes, fuel taxes, excise taxes, income taxes. My uncle never complained about the principle of taxation. Taxes are part of running a business. But he understood something viscerally that most politicians won't say plainly: the government's appetite is not bounded by what it needs. It's bounded by what you'll let it take.

Why a Wealth Tax Is Constitutionally Radioactive

A federal wealth tax almost certainly violates the Constitution's requirement that direct taxes be apportioned among the states according to population — and the scholarly consensus on this spans both parties. Yale's John Langbein and Harvard's Laurence Tribe have both raised serious apportionment objections. This is not a conservative talking point. It's a structural constitutional defect that Sanders has no serious answer for.

The Sixteenth Amendment authorized Congress to tax "incomes, from whatever source derived." It said nothing about taxing accumulated assets. A wealth tax doesn't reach what you earn. It reaches what you've already built — repeatedly, every year, regardless of whether it produced any income in that period. The distinction between an income tax and a wealth tax isn't semantic. It is the entire constitutional question.

George Washington University law professor Jonathan Turley — who identifies as a liberal — wrote that the bill represents "one of the most constitutionally dubious pieces of legislation in modern congressional history." When liberal legal scholars call your bill unconstitutional, that's not partisan opposition. That's a warning label printed on the side of the package.

Europe ran this experiment first. France, Sweden, Germany, and Denmark all imposed wealth taxes. All of them repealed them. Sweden's wealth tax, abandoned in 2007, drove capital flight at rates that actually reduced total tax revenue. France's ISF tax caused an estimated 10,000 wealthy households to leave the country annually before it was reformed in 2017. The wealth tax didn't destroy wealth. It exported it.

The $3,600 Check Is Political Engineering, Not Economics

The annual check is engineered to be irresistible. Tell a family making $55,000 a year they're getting $3,600 — roughly seven weeks of groceries — and constitutional arguments become abstract. They become rich people's problems. Long-term economic damage becomes a professor's concern. That's the architecture of the proposal, and it's not accidental.

Run the actual numbers. Sanders claims his wealth tax raises approximately $3.5 trillion over ten years. Divide that by 130 million eligible households across a decade and you get roughly $2,692 per household per year — not $3,600. His math assumes zero behavioral change from the wealthy, zero capital flight, and 100 percent collection efficiency on assets that are notoriously difficult to value.

Private businesses. Art collections. Farmland. Family ranches. How do you appraise a working cattle operation in Texas for annual federal taxation? Who pays the appraiser? What happens when the estimate is wrong and a rancher owes tax on paper gains that don't exist as cash? The administrative apparatus required to operate a functional wealth tax would be unlike anything the IRS currently manages. Compliance costs alone would consume a significant fraction of the revenue raised. And the check would still arrive — just not funded the way Sanders advertises.

What Hispanic Working Families Actually Need

Hispanic workers are the fastest-growing segment of American small business ownership. Between 2012 and 2021, the number of Hispanic-owned businesses grew by 34 percent — from 3.3 million to approximately 4.4 million, according to the Stanford Latino Entrepreneurship Initiative. These are not the targets of a wealth tax. But they are the people a wealth tax harms in its second and third-order effects: reduced investment capital, higher borrowing costs, contracted small-business credit markets, and the general economic chill that follows capital flight out of the country.

Bernie Sanders has been promising working-class transformation since his 1974 Senate race in Vermont. That's fifty-two years of promises. During those fifty-two years, he has passed three standalone bills into law — two renaming post offices and one adjusting a study requirement for the Veterans Administration. His record of results for working people is a post office in Burlington and another in Brattleboro.

You don't fix an economy by confiscating the capital that funds the businesses that employ the workers you claim to represent. You fix it by removing the regulatory and tax burdens that prevent a trucking company owner in San Antonio from hiring a fifth driver, buying a fourth truck, or expanding into a new city. That's boring. That doesn't generate campaign donors or rally crowds. But it works.

That $3,600 check is payment for your silence while the Constitution gets dismantled in the background. I'd rather keep both.