
Behind a Texas bill, a push to make gold ‘functional money'
Trevor Bach,
Tribune News Service
More than 50 years after the United States abandoned the gold standard, Texas lawmakers are moving to bring precious metals into everyday use. The new legislation, House Bill 1056, aims to give Texans the ability, likely through a mobile app or debit card system, to use gold and silver they hold in the state's bullion depository to purchase groceries or other standard items. The bill would also recognise gold and silver as legal tender in Texas, with the caveat that the state's recognition must also align with currency laws laid out in the US Constitution. 'In short, this bill makes gold and silver functional money in Texas,' Rep. Mark Dorazio, R-San Antonio, the main driving force behind the effort, said during one 2024 presentation. 'It has to be functional, it has to be practical and it has to be usable.'
After picking up major amendments in the Senate aimed at ensuring the legislation complies with existing laws — most notably, the Senate nixed language from an earlier version that sought to establish an entirely new digital currency based on the metals — the proposal cleared both legislative chambers late last week, and was sent to the governor's desk on Sunday. Governor Greg Abbott does not appear to have indicated whether he intends to sign the bill. In a statement, Abbott's press secretary, Andrew Mahaleris, said the governor 'will thoughtfully review any legislation sent to his desk.' Dorazio and state Sen. Bryan Hughes, R-Mineola, who authored a companion bill in that chamber, did not respond to requests for comment.
This year's gold and silver legislative push comes roughly a decade after Texas created the country's first state-run precious metals depository — and as Republican lawmakers around the country are pushing more broadly to move away from dependence on fiat currency, or money issued and backed by a central government. To date legislators in at least 11 states, including Utah, Oklahoma, Kansas, Arizona and West Virginia, have introduced bills that declare gold and silver as legal tender, or move for taxation exemptions on the metals, although many of those efforts have failed to become law. State and federal lawmakers, including in Texas, have also been pushing to expand the viability of cryptocurrency, including with government-held reserves.
Texas' highest-profile piece of crypto-related legislation this year, Senate Bill 21, which would create a state reserve of bitcoin and potentially other cryptocurrencies controlled by the state comptroller, is now likely to become law after formally advancing through the state legislature on Sunday. 'Bitcoin doesn't need Texas,' Brian Morgenstern, a policy adviser for the Texas Blockchain Council, the state's leading crypto lobbying group, recently argued in an interview with The News. 'Texas and the United States need bitcoin, because it's this modern phenomenon that is an outstanding asset.' The anti-fiat movement generally argues that alternative currencies offer a hedge against inflation and a greater degree of autonomy, because standard-issue currency is theoretically vulnerable to government manipulation.
While such concerns have been lingering for decades, more recently they've taken on a more heated pitch. Many see an inflection point amid rising inflation, ballooning federal debt, and a US dollar that recently slid to its lowest value in three years — all of which raise questions about the currency's central role in global finance.
'How am I supposed to buy groceries?' While several states have pushed for the legalisation of gold and silver, those efforts still left the metals functionally unusable, Dorazio has argued, because they didn't include a mechanism for making purchases. 'How am I supposed to go to the grocery store and buy groceries? How am I supposed to put gas in my car with a gold bar?' he said last year. 'Today it's an impossibility. You just can't do it.' HB 1056 aims to solve that problem by enabling the state comptroller to 'establish or authorise one or more electronic systems' for consumers and vendors to make and receive payments with their precious metals held in the state depository. The comptroller would also have the ability to contract the work to third parties and charge associated fees.
The current version of the bill focuses on laying the groundwork for such a system without mandating that anyone — including merchants — actually take part. But setting up a functional Texas metals transaction operation would still likely cost tens of millions of dollars and likely prove extremely logistically challenging, including by requiring potential reconfigurations of the state's bullion depository in order to ensure the assets can be accounted for. In addition to many elected Texas Democrats and residents — some who were bewildered as the measure advanced through the legislature — fiscal watchdogs have opposed the bill because of the associated costs. Meanwhile, banking groups that include the Texas Bankers Association and Independent Bankers Association of Texas (IBAT), have raised objections over its lack of consumer protections.
Hashtags

Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles


Gulf Today
11 hours ago
- Gulf Today
Why Medicaid work requirements won't work
Kathryn Anne Edwards, Tribune News Service The US labour market is a truly astonishing thing to behold. It includes 171 million Americans, as young as 14 and older than 90, some who never finished elementary school and others with PhDs. It is resilient and dynamic, shrinking during recessions but growing again after. It provides the majority of Americans with the majority of their income. All of which is to say: It is common to look to the labor market as a kind of salve for all economic wounds. Whatever the problem is, the solution is to get people working. Unfortunately, it's not that simple. For all its strength, the labor market is encumbered by the low-wage labor market — where work doesn't support a stable living, and where jobs are so bad they're more salt than salve. This is a reality that Republicans in Congress, in their current push to impose work requirements on Medicaid recipients, ignore. They are making policy for a labor market that doesn't exist. The 'low-wage labor market' is a vague designation. It's typically defined as those workers who have relatively or absolutely low hourly earnings, such as the bottom quintile or quarter of wage earners, or earners below some nominal wage cutoff. Whatever the definition, however, there are some aspects of the low-wage labor market that are obvious: The low-wage labor market is large. At least 39 million workers in the US earn less than $17 an hour, which is the equivalent of $35,360 annually. That is just below 138% of the poverty threshold for a family of three — the income needed for parents to be eligible for Medicaid in states that expanded it under the Affordable Care Act. Earnings in the low-wage labor market are volatile. Earnings volatility measures change in wage income from one month to the next. Instability at both the very top and very bottom is so great that economists have a term for it: the 'wild ride.' Recent research from the Brookings Institution's Hamilton Project shows that low-wage earners see more spikes and dips in income than any other group, with the dips being especially large. They have the most volatile earnings when measured by the coefficient of variation, regardless of whether the household has a single or multiple earners. That volatility can be partly attributed to unpredictable hours. Many low-wage earners are employed in shift work, in which their hours and schedule can vary week to week, often with little notice. According to Harvard's Shift Project, two-thirds of workers in retail and food service get less than two weeks' notice of their schedule, half get less than one week's notice, and 70% report that the timing of their scheduled shifts changes at least once a month. This flexibility is more likely to be imposed by employers rather than requested by employees; the more volatile the hours, the fewer hours typically worked. Low-wage jobs usually also have low-quality benefits. Of private-sector workers in the bottom 25% of the wage distribution, 30% do not have access to any type of leave, whether it is sick, holiday, vacation or personal. Some 56% do not have access to an employer-sponsored health-care plan, while 84% do not have access to an employer-sponsored dental plan. And 50% do not have access to a defined-contribution retirement plan. The bottom line is clear. Working Americans are eligible for social benefits such as Medicaid not only because their pay isn't high enough, but also because it isn't reliable enough. Classic labour theory holds that workers are balancing two conflicting goals: the consumption of purchased goods, and the consumption of leisure time. The former requires time at work; the latter requires time away from work. It is up to the worker to calibrate how much of each they want. Of course, economists will try to predict how workers and consumers will react to any change in their earnings. If a worker gets a wage increase, the 'income effect' would push them to work less: They can still consume the same amount of purchased goods but also have more leisure time. Alternatively, a wage increase could trigger the 'substitution effect,' pushing them to work more: The price of leisure (foregone wages) is now more expensive. But what if that worker gets a non-wage increase from a public benefit? There is no substitution effect, just the income effect — that is, they would work less. This is the economic foundation for the idea that public benefits discourage work. Work requirements are meant to counter this incentive. It sounds reasonable. But for at least 39 million Americans, work brings low wages, unstable earnings, unpredictable hours and few benefits.


Gulf Today
11 hours ago
- Gulf Today
Outrage over Trump's electric vehicle policies is misplaced
Ashley Nunes, Tribune News Service Electric car subsidies are heading for the chopping block. A tax bill recently passed by House Republicans is set to stop billions in taxpayer cash from being spent on electric vehicle purchases. If embraced by the Senate and signed into law by President Donald Trump, the bill would gut long-standing government handouts for going electric. The move comes on the heels of another climate policy embraced by Republicans. Earlier this year, Trump announced plans to roll back burdensome rules that effectively force American consumers to buy electric, rather than gas-fueled, cars. The Environmental Protection Agency has called that move the 'biggest deregulatory action in US history.' Not everyone sees it that way. Jason Rylander, legal director at the Center for Biological Diversity's Climate Law Institute, assailed Trump's efforts, noting that his 'administration's ignorance is trumped only by its malice toward the planet.' Other similarly aligned groups have voiced similar sentiments arguing that ending these rules would 'cost consumers more, because clean energy and cleaner cars are cheaper than sticking with the fossil fuels status quo.' Backtracking on EV purchasing mandates seems to have hit Trump haters particularly hard. That mandate — established by President Joe Biden — would have pushed US automakers to sell more EVs. Millions more. Electric cars currently account for 8% of new auto sales. Biden ordered— by presidential fiat — that figure to climb to 35% by 2032. If you believe the hype, the result would be an electric nirvana, one defined by cleaner air and rampant job creation. I'm not convinced. For one thing, cleaner air courtesy of electrification requires that EVs replace gas-powered autos. They're not. In fact, study after study suggests that the purchase of EVs adds to the number of cars in a household. And two-thirds of households with an EV have another non-EV that is driven more — hardly a recipe for climate success given that EVs must be driven (a lot) to deliver climate benefits. Fewer miles driven in an EV also challenges the economic efficiency of the billions Washington spends annually to subsidise their purchase. Claims of job creation thanks to EVs are even more questionable. These claims are predicated around notions of aggressive consumer demand that drives increased EV manufacturing. This in turn creates jobs. A recent Princeton University study noted, 'Announced manufacturing capacity additions and expansions would nearly double US capacity to produce electric vehicles by 2030 and are well sized to meet expected demand for made-in-USA vehicles.' Jobs would be created if there were demand for EVs. Except that's not what's happening. Rather, consumer interest in EVs has effectively cratered. In 2024, 1.3 million EVs were sold in the United States, up from 1.2 million in 2023. This paltry increase is even more worrying given drastic price cuts seen in the EV market in 2024. Tesla knocked thousands of dollars off its best-selling Model 3 and Model Y. Ford followed suit by cutting prices on its Mach-e. So did Volkswagen and Hyundai. Despite deep discounts, consumer interest in electrification remains — to put it mildly — tepid at best. So, when people equate electrification with robust job creation, I'm left wondering what they are going on about. Even if jobs were created, EV advocates are coy about how many of those jobs would benefit existing autoworkers. Would all these workers — currently spread across large swaths of the Midwest — be guaranteed jobs on an EV assembly line? If not, how many workers should expect to receive pink slips? For those who do, will they be able to find new jobs that pay as much as their old ones? Touting job creation for political expediency is one thing. Fully recognising its impact on hardworking American families today, another. Some Americans may decry Trump's actions on climate, but they have only themselves to blame. Many of the pro-climate policies enacted, particularly during the Biden era, deliver little in the way of climate benefits (or any benefit for that matter) while making a mockery of the real economic concerns businesses and consumers have about climate action. No more. In justifying climate rollbacks, the president says many of his predecessor's policies have hurt rather than helped the American people. He's right and should be commended for doing something about it.


Gulf Today
11 hours ago
- Gulf Today
How big of a threat is Asian superpower China really?
Daniel DePetris, Tribune News Service Last June, during an annual security conference in East Asia, then-Defense Secretary Lloyd Austin underscored that the United States was not seeking conflict with China. Maintaining a consistent dialogue with Beijing, he hinted, was just as vital to effective deterrence as ensuring the US military was fully equipped and prepared. Fast-forward a year later and the message from Washington is far different. Unlike his predecessor, Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth name-dropped China in his speech to the same security conference multiple times, as if to shame the Asian superpower for running roughshod over the so-called rules-based international order. China, Hegseth warned, was trying to become a hegemon in Asia, where it could dominate its neighbours, exploit the South China Sea's vast natural resources and coerce other countries into accepting Beijing's demands. In Hegseth's words, 'It has to be clear to all that Beijing is credibly preparing to potentially use military force to alter the balance of power in the Indo-Pacific.' An invasion of Taiwan, he added, could be 'imminent.' If this all sounds scary, that's because it is. His comments raise the rhetorical gamesmanship to a level US officials weren't comfortable with in the past. The Biden administration was no slouch on China policy, but it still didn't want to inflame things unnecessarily. The Pentagon, for instance, repeatedly emphasized that while China's military drills around Taiwan were aggressive and designed to wear down the island's will to resist, a conflict in the Taiwan Strait was 'neither imminent nor inevitable.' In other words, there was still an opportunity to defuse any tensions before they exploded into a war that could drag the United States in, kill tens of thousands of people and throw a heavy wrench into the global economy. The Trump administration, however, has deployed noticeably sharper words during its first four months. Although the fundamentals of its wider policy in East Asia mimic the Biden administration's own — reinforcing US alliances; engaging in regular freedom of navigation exercises with Japan and the Philippines; and stressing the utility of preserving the status quo in the Taiwan Strait — Trump's advisers aren't afraid of poking Beijing in the eye. If managing the systemic rivalry with Beijing was a core component of Washington's overall strategy throughout Biden's four years, it increasingly looks like the guardrails that were put in place to prevent miscalculations are now eroding. Even so, does the Trump administration have a point? Is a conflict over Taiwan imminent as Hegseth suggests? And how real is the risk of China becoming Asia's hegemon? First, we should acknowledge that China is a threat in certain respects, particularly to its neighbors who have competing jurisdictional claims. The People's Liberation Army, or PLA, is arguably the strongest military in the region today, a consequence of Chinese President Xi Jinping's long-standing policy of pouring money into its coffers to fund a large-scale modernization campaign. China spent $314 billion on defense in 2024, a 7% increase from the year prior and a whopping 59% increase from a decade ago. The PLA boasts the largest ballistic missile arsenal in Asia and continues to invest in hypersonic missiles, which are difficult for conventional air defenses to intercept. The PLA is also throwing out the old rulebook that used to govern affairs in East Asia. As I mentioned last week, the median line that once served as an unofficial boundary separating Chinese and Taiwanese airspace is now imaginary as the Chinese air force flies closer to the self-ruled island to test Taiwan's defenses and wear down morale. Yet the United States would be wise to refrain from overestimating China's military capability and underestimating the capability of its allies like Japan, the Philippines, South Korea and Australia — all of whom have an even greater interest in preventing Chinese hegemony in Asia than Washington does. China is its own worst enemy in this regard: The more it presses its territorial claims, the more incentive its neighbors have to balance Beijing. For the most part, this is exactly what China's neighbours are doing. Japan is the most obvious case study. Traditionally a pacifist country that kept to an artificially low defense budget relative to its wealth, Japan has spent the last three years adding resources to its so-called Self-Defense Forces and buying American weapons off the shelf. Tokyo's latest national security strategy, unveiled in 2022, was a sea-change in how Japan typically talks about its security environment. In that document, China was called out for challenging the international order, partnering with Russia in its war against Ukraine and trying to change the region's status quo by force. Japan's defense budget is set to double by 2027, and with more resources comes a greater capability to preserve the balance of power. The Philippines is another example. While the country can't possibly compete with China in conventional terms, the Philippine government under President Ferdinand Marcos Jr. has effectively given up on rapprochement with Beijing and thrown in its lot with Washington. China's incessant clashes with Philippine forces in the South China Sea have served as a wake-up call to a country whose previous administration under Rodrigo Duterte (who is now in custody at the Hague for war crimes) drifted into the Chinese camp and took a more suspicious view of US intentions. Today, Manila is not only buttressing its navy and coast guard but also increasingly partnering with countries like Japan and Australia who have a similar threat perception about China.