A BallPark Tax

I am a general tax practitioner, but even within that I set limits. There are certain types of work that I won’t do, if I do not do enough of it to (a) keep the technical issues somewhat fresh in my mind and (b) warrant the time it would require to remain current.

Staying current is a necessity. The tax landscape is littered with landmines.

For example, did you know there is a tax to pay for Nationals Park, the home to the Washington Nationals baseball team?

I am not talking about a sales tax or a fee when you buy a ticket to the game.

No, I mean that you have to file a return and pay yet another tax.

That strikes me as cra-cra.

At least the tax excludes business with gross receipts of less than $5 million sourced to the District of Columbia.

That should protect virtually all if not all of my clients. I might have a contractor go over, depending on where their jobs are located in any given year.

Except ….

Let’s go to the word “source.”

Chances are you think of “source” as actually being there. You have an office or a storefront in the District. You send in a construction work crew from Missouri. Maybe you send in a delivery truck from Maryland or Virginia.

I can work with that.

I am reading that the District now says that “source” includes revenues from services delivered to customers in the District, irrespective where the services are actually performed.

Huh?

What does that mean?

If I structure a business transaction for someone in D.C., am I expected to file and pay that ballpark tax? I am nowhere near D.C. I should at least get a courtesy tour of the stadium. And a free hot dog. And pretzel.

COMMENT: My case is a bad example. I have never invoiced a single client $5 million in my career. If I had, I might now be the Retired Cincinnati Tax Guy.

I can better understand the concept when discussing tangible property. I can see it being packaged and shipped; I can slip a barcode on it. There is some tie to reality.

The concept begins to slip when discussing services. What if the company has offices in multiple cities?  What if I make telephone calls and send e-mails to different locations? What if a key company person I am working with in turn works remotely? What if the Browns go to the Super Bowl?

The game de jour with state (and District) taxation is creative dismemberment of the definition of nexus.

Nexus means that one has sufficient ties to and connection with a state (or District) to allow the state (or District) to impose its taxation. New York cannot tax you just because you watched an episode of Friends. For many years it meant that one had a location there. If not a location, then perhaps one had an employee there, or kept inventory, or maybe sent trucks into the state for deliveries. There was something – or someone – tangible which served as the hook to drag one within the state’s power to tax.

That definition doesn’t work in an economy with Netflix, however.

The Wayfair decision changed the definition. Nexus now means that one has sales into the state exceeding a certain dollar threshold.

While that definition works with Netflix, it can lead to absurd results in other contexts. For example, I recently purchased a watch from Denmark. Let’s say that enough people in Kentucky like and purchase the same or a similar watch. Technically, that means the Danish company would have a Kentucky tax filing requirement, barring some miraculous escape under a treaty or the like.

What do you think the odds are that a chartered accountant in Denmark would have a clue that Kentucky expects him/her to file a Kentucky tax return?

Let’s go back to what D.C. did. They took nexus. They redefined nexus to mean sales into the District.  They redefined it again to include the sale of services provided by an out-of-District service provider.

This, folks, is bad tax law.

And a tax accident waiting to happen.

Tattletaling on Sales Taxes

There is a tax case coming before the Supreme Court. It involves Wayfair, the online home goods company, and sales taxes.

The issue can be summarized as follows: if I do not have a building or inventory or employees in your state, can you force me to collect your taxes?

The Wayfair case is an evolution of the Quill case, decided by the Supreme Court in 1992. Quill is an office-supply company, and in 1992 the issue was whether North Dakota could tax Quill just because it sent catalogues to residents of the state.

North Dakota was adamant: Quill was regularly and systematically soliciting its citizenry. It did not care that Quill had no presence in the state. By that reasoning Norway could have also taxed Quill, but let’s not introduce common sense into this argument.

The Supreme Court was unwilling to go that far, recognizing that sales taxation was (and is) the wild west of taxation. Each state has its own rules and - depending upon the state - there can also be counties and cities imposing sales tax.  

What has changed since Quill? The internet, of course.

The new argument is that the internet has revolutionized how business is done.

But sales taxes are still eccentric, often cryptic and frustratingly inconsistent. The internet has not revolutionized that. Perhaps Amazon can wield the accounting staff necessary to comply, but a small business may have a different result.

I have a client that got mugged by the “tattletale” statutes that some states are now implementing.

Let’s look at Washington’s tattletale law.

It applies if you do not otherwise collect Washington sales tax.  

Let’s say that you sell promotional materials for old-time movies. You have a modest warehouse in a nondescript part of town, You sell exclusively over the internet, and you get paid almost exclusively through PayPal.

You have a sale in Washington state. Then two, four, ten…. You get the idea.

Washington is watching you.

Get to $10,000 in Washington sales and you have issues.

Oh, they cannot force you to collect sales taxes, but they can force you to:

(1) Conspicuously post on your website that sales taxes are due and that the purchaser must file a use tax return.

Fail to do so and there is an immediate penalty of $20,000.

Ouch.

Are we done?

Of course not.

Let’s say that you actually sell something.

(2) You must provide a notice with every sale that no sales tax is being collected, that the purchaser should file a use tax, and instructions on how to pay the use tax. The notice must be “prominently” displayed.

You write a standard notice and keep copies.

Are we done?

(3) At year end you must send the purchaser a list of everything they bought, by date. You again must provide the usual gospel on use tax and how to get information on its filing.

This starting to get expensive. Who has time for this nonsense?

Make time. The penalties begin at $5,000 and can increase exponentially.

(4) You must send a copy of that list to the state of Washington.

Fail to do so and penalties begin at $20,000.

By my math, if you sell $10,001 into Washington and do not become an unpaid agent of the Department of Revenue, you are exposed to $45,000 in penalties.

Washington of course says that it can waive penalties.

Fairy tales used to be for children. 

And the fairy tale is a one-off only. There is no second chance at a waiver.

Mind you, Washington’s state sales tax rate is 6.5%. Go to Seattle and you pick up a city sales tax, making the combined rate 9.6%

What pathological bureaucrat sets the bar at $650 in sales tax?

This is the standard structure of the tattletale laws: resistance is futile.

In ancient times – say the 1980s – there was a concept in state taxation called the Commerce Clause. This refers to the Constitution and its restriction on states to not so burden and fetter their laws so as to interfere with interstate commerce.

Seems to me that the Supreme Court should consider the Commerce Clause implications of a $45,000 penalty on $10,001 in sales when considering the Wayfair decision.

I know.

Fairy tales used to be for children.