As the master of a property tax system so complex and arcane that Einstein might have designed it in a fit of perversity, Joe Berrios ought to know well enough to avoid trouble.

But in the wake of a biting media probe and statewide howls for reform and property tax freezes, the Cook County assessor yesterday declared that he sees nothing wrong with accepting campaign cash from tax appeals lawyers whose job it is to influence his office and that he intends to continue doing just that.

My, my, my. Suspicion, meet mistrust. And you thought Donald Trump was oblivious to public opinion.

In stolidly refusing to enter the second decade of the 21st century, Berrios is just inviting trouble, not only for himself but his party's prospects of unseating Gov. Bruce Rauner. And he's creating a little bit of heartburn for everyone in this jurisdiction who owns property and suspects that the neighbor down the block is getting a better deal. Which is most of us.

I have to admit upfront, I don't know whether the local property tax system is stacked against the little guy, and particularly residents of largely minority neighborhoods, as the Tribune suggested in a three-part series. Let's just say it's almost impossible for most of us to comprehend a system that includes multiple classifications and different types of valuations (market and income), sets values not on the basis of individual sales prices but broader trends, runs a year behind the calendar, and whose product invariably is readjusted by the Illinois Department of Revenue.

The Trib made some points. Particularly valid, I thought, was its discovery that the assessment model Berrios uses is especially prone to inequity at certain times. Like in the years right after the Great Recession, when the model appeared to catch the relatively fast bounceback in property values in better-off parts of the county, but not so good at reading the much slower recovery in other areas.

Ditto the Trib's point about appeals by homeowners of their proposed assessments. Berrios says he encourages appeals, wants appeals, and in fact heavily campaigns in minority neighborhoods encouraging owners to appeal themselves rather than spending money they don't have on an appeals lawyer. But better if the assessments were accurate in the first place.

On the other hand, I think Berrios has some points in his favor, too. For instance, the main map the Tribune displayed to summarize its findings showed that while the poor, black West Side on average is overassessed, so is the white Northwest Side and most of northwest suburban Cook. Ditto areas that are underassessed: both the North Side lakefront and the North Side.

Berrios correctly griped that his assessments were unfairly compared to those in San Francisco, where Proposition 13 essentially freezes all assessments until a house is sold. His office also offers numbers that it says indicate that individuals actually are slightly more successful in seeking appeals than those fancy-schmancy tax lawyers.

Berrios' predecessor, Jim Houlihan, sides with the Tribune, but only a little.

"Property taxes in Cook County tend to be regressive," he told me in a phone interview, in part because the assessor fails to catch many home-improvement projects and additions in wealthier neighborhoods, and in part because of the impact of foreclosures on the system. His solution is to cut way, way back on property taxes as a funder of public schools in favor of more reliance on the sales and income taxes.

That's where Berrios' obstinance is going to take us.

People already hate the property tax because it arrives not in nickels and dimes but two big bills a year. They suspect it's rigged because big-name politicians such as City Council Finance Committee Chairman Ed Burke, 14th; House Speaker Mike Madigan; and Senate President John Cullerton make their living as property tax appeals lawyers. Meanwhile Rauner—and half of the Democrats opposing him—is running on a platform of freezing property taxes because the pols who run the system have rigged it in their favor.

So how did Berrios reply yesterday when asked why he doesn't just stop taking some of the hundreds of thousands he gets each year from members of the property tax appeals bar?

"I accept donations just like any public official can," he replied. Those who appeal "don't get everything they want and anything they shouldn't get."

He added, "Every elected official takes contributions from (interested) parties."

Yeah, they do. But they're not the Cook County assessor at this point in time.

Voters have had an opportunity to do something about this in past elections, when Berrios' source of campaign cash and propensity to hire his relatives became issues. With this issue back on the front page, we'll see if voters care any more now.