Episode 13: What Tax Cuts and Methamphetamine Have in Common
On the surface, cutting taxes and smoking methamphetamine don’t seem to have much in common. One is a fiscal policy decision. The other is a powerful stimulant that ruins lives.
But when you look at the behavioral economics of tax cuts and the psychology of methamphetamine use, the parallels are uncomfortable—and surprisingly strong.
To make the case, we need to understand both.
Methamphetamine, Briefly
I’ll start with a disclaimer: I’ve never smoked meth. But I know many people who have.
Methamphetamine, like all amphetamines, is a stimulant. It increases energy, motivation, and cognitive speed. That last part is important: speed, not accuracy. If you’ve ever talked to someone who is high on meth, you’ve probably noticed that they speak very quickly, but what they’re saying often doesn’t reflect good judgment or coherent reasoning.
Meth also floods the brain with dopamine. It feels very good—temporarily. When the high wears off, you’re right back where you started, except now you’re poorer and often worse off than before.
That’s the basic pattern: intense short-term relief followed by longer-term harm.
Tax Cuts, Simplified
Now let’s talk about tax cuts.
There are many types of taxes and many ways to cut them. The U.S. tax code is roughly a thousand pages long. To keep this simple, imagine a hypothetical income tax set at 20% that gets cut in half to 10%.
What happens next?
There are two major effects.
First, taxpayers get more money in their pockets. If you earn $50,000 per year, a 10% cut means an extra $5,000 to spend.
Second, the government now has $5,000 less to spend on public goods and services—things like roads, schools, fire departments, and emergency services. These aren’t optional luxuries. They’re the infrastructure that makes modern society possible.
In short, tax cuts provide immediate liquid cash by diverting money away from shared investments and into individual hands.
Who Actually Benefits?
At first glance, tax cuts feel like a win. Cash in your pocket is cash in your pocket.
But tax cuts don’t affect everyone equally.
A person earning $50,000 a year gets $5,000. A person earning $2 million a year gets $200,000 from the same cut. The money flowing into private pockets would otherwise have funded public services, and the largest share of that diversion goes to the highest earners.
Two things matter here:
A tax cut isn’t free money—it’s money taken from public services.
Tax cuts disproportionately benefit wealthy individuals.
A Simple Town Example
Imagine a town with ten residents.
Nine earn $50,000 per year. One earns $2 million.
After the tax cut:
The nine average earners each save $5,000.
The high earner saves $200,000.
Total lost revenue: $245,000.
Now look at the town’s expenses:
Road maintenance: $100,000
Police department: $200,000
Fire department: $100,000
Total: $400,000
Before the tax cut, revenue covered these costs. Afterward, it doesn’t. The town has to cut services.
Let’s say road maintenance is eliminated entirely, and the fire department absorbs the remaining cuts.
At first, nothing dramatic happens. But over time, the roads deteriorate.
One morning, you hit a pothole on your way to work and destroy your suspension. Repairs cost $3,000. A few weeks later, a small brush fire spreads because the fire department can no longer staff full coverage. A public park that cost $25,000 to build is lost.
Between car repairs and public losses, you’re now down $500—even after your tax cut.
The pattern should feel familiar.
Borrowing From the Future
This is where the meth analogy starts to matter.
Smoking meth feels good immediately. The consequences arrive later. By the time they do, the relief is gone and the damage remains.
Tax cuts work the same way. They offer short-term relief while quietly degrading the systems that make daily life affordable and functional. Eventually, both your body (with meth) and your community (with tax cuts) end up worse off than before.
So why do people support tax cuts when the benefits are so uneven?
Most people aren’t irrational or stupid. They’re stressed. They’re operating with incomplete information and very short time horizons.
Hyperbolic Discounting and Social Disconnection
Two well-established behavioral patterns help explain this.
The first is hyperbolic discounting: when people are under stress, they prioritize immediate rewards and discount future consequences.
The second is social disconnection: people who feel disconnected from their communities are more likely to focus on short-term gains rather than long-term collective outcomes.
Most people who use meth are stressed, depressed, and lonely. Meth provides temporary relief. Long-term damage feels abstract when survival feels urgent.
Tax cuts appeal in the same way. People who are financially stable and socially connected tend to support long-term investments in public goods. People who are struggling and disconnected want immediate cash relief. In both cases, what’s happening is the same: borrowing happiness from tomorrow.
Why the Cycle Repeats
Meth becomes addictive because the brain adapts. The more dopamine you flood it with, the more it needs just to feel normal.
Tax cuts follow a similar cycle.
Joe gets a $5,000 tax cut. The roads deteriorate. He pays thousands in repairs. The services still aren’t fixed. He’s stressed, broke, and desperate.
So what does Joe support next?
Another tax cut.
The more public services erode, the more relief tax cuts seem to offer—even though they’re causing the problem. Like meth, tax cuts become more “necessary” the more damage they cause.
Withdrawal Is the Hardest Part
Eventually, both systems hit bottom.
Meth withdrawal is brutal. Recovery requires enduring short-term pain for long-term stability.
Tax withdrawal works the same way. By the time communities realize they need to restore funding to function, many residents are already financially exhausted. Convincing desperate people to accept higher taxes becomes extraordinarily difficult—even when it’s necessary.
Where the U.S. Is Now
This isn’t theoretical.
As of February 2026, U.S. national debt exceeds $38.5 trillion. Decades of overspending combined with repeated tax cuts have left public systems strained and households stressed. The financial benefits have flowed overwhelmingly to the wealthiest Americans. The social costs have landed on everyone else.
Is There a Treatment?
There is.
If you rule out higher taxes on working people and rule out endless borrowing, the remaining option is taxing accumulated wealth.
A wealth tax doesn’t touch paychecks. Income isn’t wealth. Wealth taxes redirect a portion of highly concentrated assets back into public systems—schools, healthcare, infrastructure, and the social supports that young adults now lack as depression rates hit historic highs.
Like addiction treatment, it isn’t painless. But it works.
What we know won’t work is continuing the behavior that created the problem in the first place.
If you want more context, episodes 1–5 of this series go deeper into these dynamics. As always, I’m open to questions, pushback, and suggestions for future topics.