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| Looking at the shore off a cruise ship, Alaska (2012) |
When we asked about movie theaters and TV shows, he mentioned how the town didn’t have a theater, and many locals lacked televisions or internet access. As teenagers, we gasped at the thought of being so disconnected. While I could not imagine myself living in Alaska, this is the reality for some.
It made me wonder, who would live in Alaska? The Census Reporter estimates that Alaska’s current population is just above 740,000 with a predominantly white population, with Native American Alaskans as the next highest race. While the population seems to be increasing, there are losses in the working-age population.
Alaska has long captured the American imagination as the ultimate frontier for a fresh start. The state actively incentivizes newcomers through the Permanent Fund Dividend, which pays residents simply for living there for a calendar year. Beyond financial perks, the profound remoteness of the state offers a unique social refuge. People fleeing restrictive pasts often migrate to the state specifically because of its remote nature and anti-establishment culture.
For some, this seclusion provides a necessary second chance. Individuals with criminal records sometimes flee to Alaska to avoid restrictive public registries and social stigma. The harsh climate forces communities to rely on one another for survival, fostering an environment where neighbors judge each other by current actions rather than past mistakes. However, this "leave me alone" culture has a devastatingly dark side for vulnerable populations.
While property crime in the state has dropped to its lowest levels since 1985, violent crime remains staggeringly high. Alaska Beacon discusses how Alaska’s rates of violent offenses have outpaced the national average since 1993, driven heavily by severe rates of rape and aggravated assault. In fact, the rate of reported rape in Alaska has consistently hovered between three and four times the national average for the last decade. It is no surprise that the crime rates in Alaska are so bad considering the lack of law enforcement (read more about that in an earlier blog post here).
This social crisis is further compounded by a severe lack of public infrastructure, another direct consequence of rural isolation. NPR investigated the conditions of rural schools in Alaska. Because shipping heavy equipment and housing skilled workers is astronomically expensive, basic maintenance is frequently abandoned by the Alaskan government. As a result, rural Alaska Native communities are left with schools that are literally collapsing into the permafrost, filled with black mold and structural hazards. Read more about rural Alaska school funding issues here.
This structural neglect extends to basic household utilities, with more than 200 rural Alaskan communities currently facing inadequate access to water. Residents without piped water are forced to survive on less than six liters of water a day, severely impacting public health.
Conclusion
Ultimately, the isolation of rural Alaska acts as a double-edged sword. It acts as a hiding place for outsiders or people with a record seeking to disappear, while simultaneously trapping its marginalized residents in a cycle of violent crime and infrastructural decay. Reflecting back on that cruise I was on in 2012, it’s wild to think that my biggest concern was just a lack of internet or a local movie theater. I was completely blind to the harsh realities of what extreme isolation actually means for the people living there.
It made me wonder, who would live in Alaska? The Census Reporter estimates that Alaska’s current population is just above 740,000 with a predominantly white population, with Native American Alaskans as the next highest race. While the population seems to be increasing, there are losses in the working-age population.
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| Tourists visiting Nugget Falls in Juneau, Alaska (2012) |
For some, this seclusion provides a necessary second chance. Individuals with criminal records sometimes flee to Alaska to avoid restrictive public registries and social stigma. The harsh climate forces communities to rely on one another for survival, fostering an environment where neighbors judge each other by current actions rather than past mistakes. However, this "leave me alone" culture has a devastatingly dark side for vulnerable populations.
While property crime in the state has dropped to its lowest levels since 1985, violent crime remains staggeringly high. Alaska Beacon discusses how Alaska’s rates of violent offenses have outpaced the national average since 1993, driven heavily by severe rates of rape and aggravated assault. In fact, the rate of reported rape in Alaska has consistently hovered between three and four times the national average for the last decade. It is no surprise that the crime rates in Alaska are so bad considering the lack of law enforcement (read more about that in an earlier blog post here).
This social crisis is further compounded by a severe lack of public infrastructure, another direct consequence of rural isolation. NPR investigated the conditions of rural schools in Alaska. Because shipping heavy equipment and housing skilled workers is astronomically expensive, basic maintenance is frequently abandoned by the Alaskan government. As a result, rural Alaska Native communities are left with schools that are literally collapsing into the permafrost, filled with black mold and structural hazards. Read more about rural Alaska school funding issues here.
This structural neglect extends to basic household utilities, with more than 200 rural Alaskan communities currently facing inadequate access to water. Residents without piped water are forced to survive on less than six liters of water a day, severely impacting public health.
Conclusion
Ultimately, the isolation of rural Alaska acts as a double-edged sword. It acts as a hiding place for outsiders or people with a record seeking to disappear, while simultaneously trapping its marginalized residents in a cycle of violent crime and infrastructural decay. Reflecting back on that cruise I was on in 2012, it’s wild to think that my biggest concern was just a lack of internet or a local movie theater. I was completely blind to the harsh realities of what extreme isolation actually means for the people living there.
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