The easy part – saying something, not doing it – is done.

The province is recalling the legislature next week to change the Vancouver Charter to provide the city with a new power to tax homeowners. Finance Minister Mike de Jong, answering the clarion call/unilateral threat by the Vancouver mayor, practically salivated with an only-too-happy-to-hand-this-mess-to-you-Gregor tone in announcing the summer session.

Saying it’ll happen: easy. Doing it: not so.

But mission accomplished for B.C., pummelled in polls for perceived indifference to a housing political crisis that runs from homelessness to multimillion-dollar property flipping. The province gets all the benefits of acquiescence without walking into the stuff that will stick to the soles – that step into the shoo is the city’s alone.

The political objective is relatively simple: make it appear something, anything, not nothing, is being done.

The underlying principle that dares not speak its name: polls suggest people are offended about foreign money treating Vancouver real estate like a Monopoly board, buying streets and properties and moving on.

The crucial theory being tested: tax people sufficiently and they’ll roll over and rent their places.

This being a city government that plays loose when there are devils lurking in the details, unsurprisingly there are many problems with the proposal that greet anyone looking for congruence and logic.

Let’s start with something that approaches an existential question: what is an empty home?

As best anyone can tell, the city appears to think it means a place that hasn’t been occupied for a year. Why a year? Why not six months? Why not 24?

By unoccupied, does it mean if you flip the keys to friends visiting here for a week – or, gasp, rent it on Airbnb to tourists for Pride or Grey Cup Week – that it starts a fresh clock?

By unoccupied, does it mean if you’re renovating your place and move elsewhere in anticipation of the imminent city permit that takes, say, 18 months to arrive, you’ll pay a tax?

And does the entire house have to be unoccupied?

Fair enough, there will be some rough edges on the definition. Let’s leave aside what the empty house is and figure out how we’ll figure if an empty house is empty.

Utility bills? Got an app for that: lights, water, natural gas, cable, all remotely managed if you wish.

Self-declaration? Wish we had an app to be selfless, but something suggests people are not eager to say their property is vacant and deserving of tax.

Door-to-door assessment? That ought to be about as affordable bureaucracy as what the city calls affordable housing.

A snitch line? Dial 311, press 1 to report noise, press 2 to report no noise?

Well then, let’s get past this testy logistical issue and turn our attention to the revenue. What will it finance?

Housing? Well, good luck with that. That’s a lot of taxing and a long road ahead.

Neighbourhood amenities? There’s some logic to fortifying districts where homes are empty, but two things weigh against it: logic is not a city strong suit, and some of those empty-home districts are well served.

Pet projects? Ah, yes, now we have the answer. Let’s move on and ask exactly what success looks like.

A significant new supply of rental housing? The tax would have to be quite high to compel people to rent their places, and the tax would come nowhere near the funds required to build.

A disincentive for buyers to leave their places empty? If you can afford to keep your place empty, you can likely afford any tax.

It is made to look like decisive action today. In football terms, the move is less of a Hail Mary pass than a long punt. A legislative recall, a Charter change, a city study, perhaps a new measure in the 2017 or 2018 taxation year, then a full year to presumably vilify the unoccupied dwellings, then another year to levy a tax.

Welcome to the optical delusion.

Kirk LaPointe is Business in Vancouver’s vice-president of audience and business development