I don’t remember exactly when I heard a local politician say “a budget is a moral document” but it didn’t sit right. The idea that this numerical tabulation of where funds will be spent is weighing out society’s good and evil in an oversized mechanical balance, seems a little dramatic. Sure, I understand the innuendo. If we spend on fossil fuels we’re buying environmental destruction, if we spend on the military we are just short of killing people, if we fail to spend on public health, lives are still on our hands.

And it’s not that I disagree with the concept that a portion of every price of every good or service spells out an allotment to a whole host of social goals.

As I was driving to the grocery store, my mind exploring the idea of how our family budget was a moral document, I questioned to what degree I was obligated to investigate each product we consume. At every purchase do I question the employment practices, the energy consumption, the sourcing of their suppliers; do I backtrack each and every effort that went into my consumer goods?

It seems a little impractical. More importantly, I have enough faith in the people (the butcher, the baker, the cabinet maker ) as to their choices, or rather the statistical probability that their actions fall within a range of our communal norms.

What’s off about the “budget is a moral document” phrase is that it is elite-speak. There’s a whole mount Everest of activity that is represented in a Federal Budget (or even a municipal budget). Yet the people who control this one document are considered to hold our morality in their grasp. I say have a little more faith in the rest of us.