"You lye, you are not sure [...] 'tis impossible to be sure of anything but Death and Taxes---therefore hold your Tongue [...]."
- Christopher Bullock, 1716
The Cobler of Preston, A Farce. As It is Acted at the Theatre-Royal in Lincoln's-Inn-Fields, London, 1716 (Fifth Edition: S. Bladon, London, 1767), p, 21.
"A Man can hardly refrain, after all that has been said, from flattering the Nation with Hopes, that they shall once more live to see themselves delivered from Task-masters, and Tax-gatherers. [...] This would be the reviving the Halcion Days, and bringing the Golden Age once more upon the Earth. Then it would be no more a Proverb or by-Word among us, that there is nothing sure, but Death and Taxes."
- Daniel De Foe, 1717
Fair Payment No Spunge: or, some considerations on the unreasonableness of refusing to receive back money lent on publick securities. And the necessity of setting the nation free from the insupportable burthen of debt and taxes. (London: J. Brotherton, W. Meddows, J. Roberts, 1717), p. 75.
"But now, alas! this part is out of the question, not the man in the moon, not the groaning-board, not the speaking of friar Bacon’s brazen-head, not the inspiration of mother Shipton, or the miracles of Dr. Faustus, things as certain as death and taxes, can be more firmly believed: the Devil not have a cloven foot!"
- Daniel De Foe, 1726
The Political History of the Devil. As Well Ancient as Modern: In Two Parts (T. Warner, London, 1726). From: The Novels and Miscellaneous Works of Daniel De Foe, Vol. X (Oxford: D. A. Talboys. 1840), p. 246.
"Our new Constitution is now established, and has an appearance that promises permanency; but in this world nothing can be said to be certain, except death and taxes."
- Benjamin Franklin, 1789
"Letter to M. Le Roy, 13 November, 1789" in: The Works of Benjamin Franklin, Vol. XII, (ed.) John Bigelow (Putnam's Sons, New York and London, 1904), p. 161.
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PART III
2=1
Two Revolutions, One Delusion: Franklin's Letter to LeRoy
(Humble Hubris, Hubristic Humility)
SO WHAT new thing could we possibly say about Benjamin Franklin; Franklin who is so well-known, shines so bright in the spotlight, that he is difficult to see? A 'founding father' of the United States of America, an inventor, scientist, entrepreneur, statesman, etc.... The biographies and books abound, there are documentaries, films, even a recent Netflix series. The only insights about him that I can add will be with regard to our focus on his Letter to Jean-Baptiste Le Roy in which Franklin uses the phrase "death and taxes," and to whom the phrase itself is often credited without reference to its earlier instances.
What is most striking about Franklin's Letter is the immediate juxtaposition between his seemingly significant use of the term 'Philosophy', and the contrasting incidental use of the 'death and taxes' idiom. It is precisely a lack of philosophical awareness in utilizing the idiom (displayed by the otherwise quite cognizant Franklin) that typifies the insidious and unnoticed manner in which the idiom operates. It works because we do not know it is working.
The actual significance of the phrase functions through its incidental use. It is jovial, sharp-witted but light, seemingly harmless; it conveys an attitude that camouflages its detrimental effect, thereby allowing such detriment to flourish undetected - hiding in plain sight - for all and no one to see.
Yet Franklin's brief Letter to his friend and colleague, the French physicist John-Baptiste LeRoy, also upholds a commonplace and unimpressive dichotomy between 'those who are thoughtful', on the one hand, and 'the mob' or masses of those who are not, on the other. Franklin's sentiment is one that we are so accustomed to hearing (and possibly believing) that we barely notice it: that of the 'thoughtful few' vs. the 'mindless many', the educated vs. the uneducated, the upper vs. lower, the better vs. the worse. It is so commonplace, in fact, that many highly educated people are themselves rather uneducated about their own espousal of it, just as far too many otherwise clever people (whether highly educated or not) likewise too often employ their (now hopefully recognized as un-clever) coupling, "death and taxes."
In Franklin's case, we find that while he distinguishes between the violent ignorance of a mob compared to the philosophical understanding of reflective individuals, he is nevertheless himself guilty of missing the unreflective nature of his own 'witticism'. To get a better sense of the distinction that Franklin utilizes, it is helpful a look at the Letter itself. Note how the 'mob' is presented with a kind of choice: people can either see LeRoy as a 'monopolizer of knowledge', or as a 'monopolizer of corn'. Franklin writes:
It is now more than a year since I have heard from my dear friend Le Roy. What can be the reason? Are you still living? Or have the mob of Paris mistaken the head of a monopolizer of knowledge for a monopolizer of corn, and paraded it about the streets upon a pole. (160)
This strikes us as a rather dark but amusing way of asking a friend if he is is still alive, and indeed of introducing the theme of death in a witty fashion. We get a glimpse of Franklin's style here, for he seems sincerely concerned about his friend's welfare, is disarming in his humor, but also wants some 'intel' on what is happening in France. It is difficult not to be drawn in by Franklin's friendly yet skillful devices. Nevertheless, the dichotomy is about to take shape, and our attention is mainly drawn to the following lines, where Franklin himself emphasizes the word 'Philosophy':
Great part of the news we have had from Paris, for near a year past, has been very afflicting. I sincerely wish and pray it may all end well and happy, both for the king and the nation. The voice of Philosophy I apprehend can hardly be heard among those tumults. [Franklin's italics] (160)
Not only does he emphasize Philosophy, but indeed even personifies and gives it a 'voice' that can be heard - can be, that is, but probably is not. Ironically, it is Franklin himself who nevertheless does not seem to hear the philosophical voice when he employs the 'death and taxes' idiom below. Franklin presents yet another variation on the incidental and the significant use of this coupling. In a way, he actually synthesizes them:
Our new Constitution is now established, and has an appearance that promises permanency; but in this world nothing can be said to be certain, except death and taxes. (161)
Whether he realizes it or not, Franklin's words here are brimming with incidental significance. On the one hand he speaks of the new U.S. Constitution (note how the word 'constitution', as we would in a political philosophy class, bears an almost organic sense, the 'life' of a government and society, its laws - that of which it consists, even perhaps its 'being'). Of course this sort of meaning predates the U.S. and other modern Constitutions by millennia, but its use in terms of coming into being, a promise of 'permanency', the fragile ground in which it has been planted... all of this reminds us of the first of the two terms i.e., 'death', in the phrase 'death and taxes'.
I do not think Franklin himself is completely aware of this connection as he writes it, but that is the incidental aspect of how easily this language of life and death itself permeates the metaphorical, or at least initially metaphorical, way in which we think of things. In fact, before bidding his friend 'adieu', Franklin speaks of his own constitution and death:
My health continues much as it has been for some time, except that I grow thinner and weaker, so that I cannot expect to hold out much longer. (161)
Thus, Franklin's Letter really does epitomize the final interweaving and stronghold of how the coupling 'death and taxes' is as we've described it - insidious, operating in plain sight for everyone and no one to see. In one fell swoop Franklin both is philosophical and is not when he laments the likely lack of philosophical reflection on the part of the 'mob', yet fails to recognize his own lack of philosophical reflection by deploying the death and taxes idiom. He both does call our attention to the distinction and impossible comparison between human governance via taxation and the natural process of death, and does not when he brings the very impermanence/permanence of the U.S. Constitution into focus and then speaks of his own inevitable impermanence. He gives into a notion of 'legacy', a model of remembrance: the ironically hubristic humility that our human creations will perhaps overcome our natural limitations.
The Constitution shows the "promise" of permanence, says Franklin, while he himself fades away. In other words, while Franklin himself will die, the Constitution, and the taxation along with it that he helped to establish, has taken hold and even promises to become a lasting certainty. Such is the operation of our humble hubris, our hubristic humility without our being aware of it, and such is what this phrase 'death and taxes' reveals. Our delusion that, despite ourselves, we can somehow match, perhaps even outmatch, death. Yet we indulge this delusion not by claiming it explicitly, but by slyly believing that our own devices, in this case taxes, can accomplish the same level of inevitability as that of death.
We shall attempt to discern how even the term 'taxes' must ultimately succumb to its own (more subversively natural) origins - its root meaning, its origin myth - both in lieu of and despite the manner in which it is used in the phrase 'death and taxes' today. We will provide a retelling of this myth in Part IV (The 'Conclusion'), coming soon!
By: V. Duane J. Lacey, Ph.D.
Last Updated: May 11, 2026