Watson's Tax-Free Fantasy: A Satirical Look at Austin's Budget Charade

Well, well, well. Look who’s suddenly pretending to care about the little guy. Mayor Kirk Watson, in a stunning display of political theater, has asked city staff to crunch numbers without assuming a property tax increase. That’s right—the same guy who’s been cozy with developers and pushing gentrification harder than a bulldozer through a punk house is now playing the affordability card. It’s like a wolf putting on sheep’s clothing, but the sheep are still getting eaten.

Watson’s request, endorsed by four council members who probably just want to avoid pitchforks at their next town hall, breaks from the recent tradition of baking in the max 3.5% tax hike. Because why not? It’s not like Austinites are already paying through the nose for overpriced avocado toast and craft beer while their rent doubles every time a new high-rise pops up. The mayor says this will make tradeoffs clearer—like which services get axed first. My money’s on anything that doesn’t directly benefit tech bros or corporate festivals.

He claims people all over Austin are struggling. No kidding, Sherlock. Maybe it’s because your policies have turned this city into a playground for the wealthy, pushing out the artists, musicians, and working-class folks who made it cool in the first place. But hey, at least he’s recognizing it now—just months after voters shot down a 20% tax hike proposal. Even Austin’s famously progressive voters have their limits, apparently. Who knew that people don’t enjoy paying more for less?

State law caps increases at 3.5% without voter approval, and after last year’s failed measure, the city defaulted back to that rate—adding about $155 to the median homeowner’s bill. Watson says starting with a no-increase scenario will reduce confusion. Because nothing says clarity like a budget process that’s about as transparent as mud. Last year, residents weren’t sure if taxes went up? Maybe that’s because the city’s messaging is as clear as a mosh pit at 2 a.m. after three too many PBRs.

City staff will release the forecast on April 15—tax day, how poetic—followed by a council briefing. I’m sure it’ll be a real barnburner of a meeting, full of empty promises and hollow gestures. Meanwhile, I’ll be over here selling zines and organizing benefit shows to keep punk houses from getting priced out. Because when the city fails, the community steps up. That’s the real Austin spirit—not this political posturing.