Imputed Income: Family Courts’ Archaic Tax on Freedom
In Arkansas, child support isn’t just a payment—it’s a punishment, padded with a relic called “imputed income.” If a parent works less than 40 hours a week, the court “makes up” the difference, pretending they earn more. Own land that’s sitting idle? They’ll imagine it’s churning out cash and bill you for that too. This isn’t justice—it’s economic coercion, a throwback to the days when the Roman Empire taxed farmers based on some bureaucrat’s fantasy of productivity. We left such archaic policies behind centuries ago, yet Family Courts drag them back, undermining the very freedoms that fuel economic wealth. It’s time to end this practice, alongside child support itself, and let parents live and give on their own terms.
The Imputed Income Myth
Imputed income is a legal fiction. Courts create it to justify charging parents for things they don’t actually earn. If a parent works 30 hours a week, the court “imputes” 40 hours of work, pretending they’re more productive than they are. This isn’t about fairness—it’s about control. Courts want to know every dollar in a parent’s pocket, so they create a legal fiction to justify charging for things that don’t generate income. It’s a power play, not a justice.
The Imputed Income Myth
Imputed income is a judicial sleight of hand. Work 20 hours a week? The court assumes you should work 40, calculates child support as if you do, and demands you pay the difference—whether that money exists or not. Own a plot of land you’re saving for your kids’ inheritance? They’ll “impute” income as if it’s a bustling farm or rental property, ignoring your intent to keep it idle. In Arkansas, this isn’t rare—it’s routine, baked into child support guidelines that prize fiction over fact.
This isn’t about ensuring kids are fed—it’s about control. Courts assume every parent must maximize income, as if life’s only metric is a paycheck. What if a parent chooses leisure over labor, tending a garden instead of a timecard? What if they work part-time to be more available for their children—ironic, given the court’s supposed focus on “best interest”? Imputing income doesn’t just ignore these choices—it punishes them, forcing parents to chase phantom dollars or liquidate assets meant for the future.
Economic Damage, Roman-Style
Consider the parent with idle land—a recreational retreat, a legacy for their kids. Family Courts don’t care about intent; they see untapped “potential” and tax it like Roman emperors taxing fallow fields. In ancient Rome, farmers paid based on what the Empire thought their land should produce, not what it did—crippling innovation and forcing sales to meet quotas. Today, imputing income from assets does the same: a parent must exploit their land—rent it, farm it, sell it—to pay a fabricated debt. That’s not support—it’s a levy, skewing economic decisions and stripping away the owner’s judgment.
This isn’t hypothetical. A parent might hold land for ecological reasons, family tradition, or as a future gift—values erased when courts demand it generate cash now. Forced to monetize, they lose wealth-building opportunities, all to fund a system that assumes their property isn’t theirs to control. It’s a tax on foresight, echoing an era when personal choice bowed to state whims. We fought wars and built nations to escape that—why let Family Courts resurrect it?
Undermining Economic Freedom
Economic wealth flows from freedom—the right to work, rest, or invest as you see fit. Imputing income stomps on that. A parent choosing 20 hours a week might be gardening, volunteering, or just savoring life—productive in ways dollars don’t measure. Maybe they’re home more, coaching their kid’s team or helping with homework—irreplaceable gifts no court can quantify. Yet Arkansas guidelines assume a 40-hour grind is the only “responsible” path, imputing income to penalize anything less. It’s a one-size-fits-all edict that mocks autonomy.
This hits hardest in divorce. A parent scaling back work to heal or rebuild gets no grace—courts invent income they don’t have, piling stress on a fractured family. Another, holding land for their child’s future, must liquidate or pay a penalty for not “optimizing” it. This isn’t about kids’ welfare—it’s about enforcing a narrow vision of productivity, as if leisure or legacy are sins. Economic freedom—the bedrock of prosperity—crumbles when courts play income alchemist, turning choice into chains.
A Better Way: Eliminate the Fiction
Child support itself should go, as I’ve argued before—let parents and kids forge bonds without state strings. But if it lingers, imputed income must die with it. Courts should base support—if any—on real earnings, not imagined ones. A parent working 20 hours pays from that; one with idle land owes nothing for it. Better yet, scrap the whole system: no support, no imputing, just families navigating life. Absent legal neglect or abuse—proven by a preponderance of evidence, not judicial hunch—parents should decide how to contribute, whether it’s time, money, or a quiet acre left untouched.
This isn’t reckless—it’s rational. In intact families, the state doesn’t impute income to a stay-at-home parent or tax unused land unless neglect warrants intervention. Divorce shouldn’t invent that power. If a parent’s choices leave kids wanting, natural outcomes kick in—they drift to the other parent, or the stingy one steps up. Forcing phantom income doesn’t fix that; it just distorts reality, punishing intent and ingenuity.
The Court’s Savior Complex Strikes Again
Imputing income isn’t about kids—it’s about courts flexing muscle. Like Don Quixote tilting at windmills, judges cast themselves as saviors, conjuring income to “rescue” children from parents who dare live differently. It’s a power grab dressed as duty, propping up a system that thrives on meddling. Without these fictions, their role shrinks—refereeing neglect or abuse, not rewriting paystubs or land deeds. That’s as it should be. Parents aren’t villains to be taxed into submission; they’re people, and their economic choices deserve respect, not revision.
Free Families, Not Courts
End imputed income—and child support with it. Let a parent work 20 hours if they choose, keeping their leisure or their kids’ bedtime stories. Let them hold land idle for a legacy, not a court’s ledger. Mandate joint custody absent neglect or abuse, and let parents petition for it anytime—courts should obey, not obstruct. Kids can weigh in too, picking their path without money skewing the scales. This isn’t about abandoning children—it’s about liberating families from an archaic grip. Economic freedom built our world; Family Courts shouldn’t unravel it with Roman-era fantasies. Let parents live, give, and grow—their way, not the state’s.