Imre Kaas: When politicians know public interests better than the public

When nearly 100,000 people demand relief from soaring food prices, dismissing them as misguided is a sign of a growing disconnect between leaders and the people they serve, writes Imre Kaas, a crisis communication lecturer.
Nearly 100,000 people signed a petition demanding a reduction in the value-added tax (VAT) on food — a measure Finance Minister Jürgen Ligi (Reform) considers an extremely foolish political choice, as if such a tax exemption would have no consequences. But should we really believe Ligi is right, especially since he himself has admitted to several journalists that he, too, suffers from rising prices and has to eat canned food to save money?
When 98,580 people sign a public initiative in a short time, it's no longer just a debate about price tags — it's a social cry for help. Ignoring it means ignoring political reality. So far, Ligi's response to that outcry has been cynically tax-technical: in his view, lowering VAT would merely "fill retailers' pockets" and the debate itself is "like trying to carry water with a sieve."
The same tone colors his view of the entire experience of price pressure, where, according to Ligi, talking about inflation is "as foolish as complaining about bad weather." This frames the concern as society whining too much, rather than as a political problem that requires immediate attention. There are many examples in politics of letting problems fester simply because addressing the root cause would take too much effort.
Ligi has, admittedly, explained rather convincingly why he believes a public initiative supported by 100,000 people carries a whiff of recklessness: if implemented, "it wouldn't reflect in prices" and "would cost the state hundreds of millions."
At the same time, it remains unclear whether Ligi truly understands why an unprecedented number of people felt compelled to send a digital signature to the Riigikogu and the government, signaling that food has become unbearably expensive — especially under a 24 percent VAT. The motivation behind signing isn't solely tax policy; it's a proposal for dialogue when other avenues have been exhausted. If politicians don't take these steps themselves, voters will take them for them.
At the core of the finance minister's chosen stance is a distinctly elitist assumption: that the recent public debate carries a "risk of stupidity," while the government's position is the only rational one. This is how a gap emerges, one through which Ligi distances himself from reality and gives listeners a reason to talk about political arrogance.
If elected officials feel they understand the public's interests better than the public itself, something is wrong. In this case, Ligi affirms only his own authority as a finance expert and devalues a spontaneous public act — the nearly 100,000-signature petition.
When the chosen communication style is to declare a VAT debate essentially pointless and to remind people that "Estonians are more likely to struggle with being overweight than with hunger," Ligi's political experience turns into a strange moral lecture. In it, the "correct" response to hardship is nutritional awareness and the smart consumption of "cheap but quality" food. This is a normative shift that replaces political responsibility with lifestyle advice better left to someone else.
It is also problematic that Ligi assumes a VAT cut would certainly leave the market unchanged, because the pass-through of tax reductions to consumer prices depends on political coordination and market behavior. To make things even clearer: the outcome is determined not only by the direct tax measure but also by the government's ability to coordinate retailers, ensure transparent price monitoring and secure agreements that make a VAT cut a "moral obligation" reflected on price tags.
Yes, we remember the failed pledge that "the euro won't raise prices!" But one must try. Right now, no one is even trying. In fact, there are numerous examples in Europe (Portugal, Spain, Poland) where temporary tax changes have been reflected in food prices. It can be done.
The recently concluded public initiative therefore has a multi-layered social meaning. First, it is a legitimate attempt to improve the livelihoods of households shaken by a purchasing power shock. Second, it is an attempt to restore trust that the government will not hide behind Excel spreadsheets and lofty political wisdom but will openly acknowledge that the cost of a food basket is not just an economic metric.
If those in power allow the current debate to drift along and dismiss the petitioners' signal as mere "whining," they allow a political vacuum to grow. Such a vacuum has a tendency to be filled with populism, because at least populism offers the language of empathy — something stigmatizers lack.
Thus, there is little use right now in a politician in power telling stories about his youth and saying, "I have been truly poor," or that he also has to cut back on food spending and buy canned goods. This does not exactly radiate empathy toward today's inequality; for many, it is not great wisdom being shared but a grim necessity. Not to mention that canned goods are no longer cheap.
Ironically, populists often use such "I'm just like you" positioning to build solidarity, not to justify criticism of the people. In this case, such a tactic does not work — it only mocks the speaker and the situation of those truly suffering.
In sum, supporters of a lower VAT on food cannot be accused of promoting foolish policy, because this would not be a one-off ritual but a clear social agreement. It would not be a simple tax change, but a targeted measure with clearly defined groups, a possible temporary framework, a clear price monitoring system and retailers signed on to an agreement who would face reputational damage if they broke it.
Ligi's claim that a VAT cut on food "wouldn't show up in prices" is far too broad a brushstroke, where one would expect political leadership instead. The public initiative does not demand miracles or expect Ligi to heal with his hands or turn water into wine — it seeks allies, even in the government, willing to acknowledge that talking about prices is not "complaining about bad weather."
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Editor: Marcus Turovski








