COLUMN: Time to bust the LCB

From J. Christopher Robbins', "Don't Tread on Me," Fall '96 From J. Christopher Robbins', "Don't Tread on Me," Fall '96Two centuries ago, Pennsylvanian took upFrom J. Christopher Robbins', "Don't Tread on Me," Fall '96Two centuries ago, Pennsylvanian took uparms to protect outrageous liquor taxes. It'sFrom J. Christopher Robbins', "Don't Tread on Me," Fall '96Two centuries ago, Pennsylvanian took uparms to protect outrageous liquor taxes. It'stime for another rebellion. From J. Christopher Robbins', "Don't Tread on Me," Fall '96Two centuries ago, Pennsylvanian took uparms to protect outrageous liquor taxes. It'stime for another rebellion.In the summer of 1794, Pennsylvanians rebelled to protect their way of life and the price of one of their favorite products: whiskey. And in this more rugged time, when "gun control" denoted a man's ability to bull's-eye a chipmunk at 30 yards, a group of our ancestors, many of them Revolutionary War veterans, took up arms to fight the six percent liquor tax. Things have changed in Pennsylvania. Today, residents of the same state live under a government-controlled liquor monopoly. They flee like cowards across the Delaware River to re-stock their bars and wine cellars. They submit to taxes four times higher than the one they once fought against. And Pennsylvanians live in perpetual fear that a quasi-military band of puritans (read: Liquor Control Enforcement agents) will break up the weekend's best party. I say it's time for another rebellion. Sixty-three years after Prohibition's repeal, Pennsylvania is one of three states that retains complete government control of liquor. The liquor monopoly is economically inefficient, nightmarish for customers and morally unjustifiable. Shopping in state stores is reminiscent of consumerism in the former Soviet Union. Pickings are often sparse. Prices can be high. Taxes are intoxicating. And customer service, when you can find it, is cold and bureaucratic. In addition, state stores themselves are sometimes hard to find. Though Pennsylvania is six times larger than New Jersey, it has only one-third as many liquor stores. And the liquor selection in these stores is embarrassing. The average location stocks 500 labels, fewer than many of its private counterparts. Maybe that's why Pennsylvanians purchase 40 percent less liquor per year than New Jersey residents, even though two million fewer people live in the Garden State. Customer service is also a joke: some of Liquor Control Board employees know less about alcohol than their customers. I met one who told me "pinot noir" was a new brand of vodka. Worse yet, when I asked another to suggest "a good red wine for a romantic dinner," the savvy salesman pointed to a bottle of Gallo and responded: "That's good shit." And why should they study to be connoisseurs? An employee's upward mobility is limited to the public sector by the government's monopoly. There's no competition. And workers who do master the trade are prohibited by law from opening their own stores. The liquor monopoly is even more noxious to restaurateurs, tavern-keepers and beer distributors. Their businesses face the dizzying regulatory monolith of the state, which is costing them big bucks. "We [bar-owners] would make more money if it the system were privatized," said Joe Murphy, owner of Murphy's Tavern at 44th and Spruce streets. Murphy, an experienced analyst of the LCB, cited administrative hypocrisies and economic injustices in the state-run system. Even though bars purchase in bulk from special distributors, they must pay retail prices. This procedure, compiled with various other rules, regulations and "administrative orders," proves tedious. Some others are just plain silly. Until November 1994, for example, beer distributors were prohibited by "administrative law" from selling paper plates and napkins with a liquor manufacturer's logo. The industry challenged the rule, only to fall victim to a more ludicrous version. There is also the state-mandated last call: no liquor may be served after 2 a.m. Recently, an unelected "administrative law judge" decreed that "all patrons must vacate licensed premises no later than one-half hour after the legal beverage serving time expires." So much for freedom of assembly. And the state government must have been drunk when it passed the liquor tax, one of the highest in the nation. In addition to the six percent sales tax, there's a standard 18 percent liquor levy. The average surcharge on a bottle of wine exceeds $3.27. Compare that with New Jersey's 70 cents per bottle. Yet supporters of the government liquor monopoly and state store system say it's good for the "safety and morals" of our society. Controlling booze, they argue, results in fewer alcohol-related crimes, less drunkenness and a decreased incidence of alcoholism. This is false. The liquor monopoly has not reduced the number of alcoholics. Pennsylvania's rate of alcoholism corresponds to the national average. Nor has controlling sales of liquor reduced crime. According to the Federal Bureau of Investigation, Pennsylvania has more arrests for drunkenness and liquor law violations than any of its border states except Ohio. Drunk driving rates are no better, either. In fact, the government monopoly on liquor actually encourages honest citizens to break the law. When faced with the option of getting ripped off by a state store, or, like our courageous forefathers, crossing the Delaware, Pennsylvanians often chose the latter. In legalese, this is known as smuggling. The solution to all this nonsense is privatization. If tomorrow the state's General Assembly decided to shut down the state liquor stores, abolish the Liquor Control Board and divest it of its assets, it would fetch nearly $1 billion. Even if it garnered but a single penny, the new free, private, profit-motivated liquor market -- now enjoyed by 47 of the 50 states -- would be a welcome replacement. Defiant citizens who "smuggle" beer, wine, and whiskey across the Benjamin Franklin Bridge aren't criminals, they are just smart consumers. An no Pennsylvanian should be subjected to the state's passZ and puritanical orthodoxy. Our right to cheap, liberated liquor is far greater than the government's right to sell it. Consider Thomas Jefferson's words to President George Washington, on the eve of the Whiskey Rebellion: "No nation is drunken where wine is cheap."