The burden of the "American Dream" on rural communities

Photo Credit - Chelsea Peng 2025 "The end of the American Dream and why it’s OK"

On March 14, the House Committee on Small Business held a hearing called “Empowering Rural America Through Investment in Innovation.” Subcommittee Chairman Jake Ellzey, a Republican representing Texas's 6th Congressional District (a mix of Dallas-Fort Worth suburbs and rural counties like Navarro and Cherokee), told the room that “as the demand for AI accelerates, America’s digital infrastructure is rapidly expanding into rural communities.” He promised that for every data center job created, seven more would follow in the surrounding community.

I have spent this semester writing about technology arriving in rural America. The promise is always the same: innovation, jobs, progress. The pattern is also the same: the benefits flow out, and the costs remain.

Three posts, one pattern

In my first post, I wrote about a $25 billion AI data center planned for Tonopah, Arizona, population a few hundred. Backed by a billionaire venture capitalist and a Trump mega-donor, the project would consume as much electricity as a million homes and drain aquifers that residents depend on for drinking water. The tech consumers served by the facility live in cities. The residents of Tonopah got noise, light pollution, and a fight they lacked the political power to win.

In my second post, I stepped back from tech to look at the framing. I had caught myself thinking that rural investment came at urban expense. That zero-sum instinct turned out to be the wrong lens. The federal government spends $850 billion a year on defense and asked $1.8 billion for the Legal Services Corporation. The scarcity pitting rural against urban is a policy choice, not a fact of nature. Rural and urban working people have lost ground to the same forces and share the same interest in functional public services.

In my third post, I wrote about robotic strawberry harvesters arriving in Salinas Valley. Immigration enforcement had squeezed the farm labor supply. The federal government’s response was to lower guest worker wages, and then automation filled the gap. The robots cost $300,000 each, priced for corporate farms. Small growers and the farmworker communities who built Salinas for generations got nothing.

Each story has different characters and geography. But the structure is identical: federal policy creates or worsens a rural problem, and capital arrives promising solutions. The benefits accrue to investors/urban consumers and the people who already live there absorb the costs.

Photo Credit - Will Robinson 2020 "Is the American dream dead?"

The packaging

This pattern persists because it is wrapped in a story that Americans have been told their whole lives: that progress rewards hard work, that innovation lifts all boats, that the people who struggle simply need to adapt. This is the "American Dream," and I have come to believe it is one of the deepest sources of political paralysis in this country.

I said something like this in class a few weeks ago. I told Professor Pruitt and my fellow students that the American Dream is this country’s “original sin.” She pushed back, fairly, and pointed out that there are things about this country that are more original and more sinful. She’s right. Slavery, land theft, and genocide are the material foundations. But the American Dream is the legitimating story that makes those foundations look earned. It converts structural advantage into personal merit and structural disadvantage into personal failure.

I know this because I lived it. I grew up male, Mormon, white, healthy, and financially comfortable. My family believed fiercely in individual agency. I followed the rules and concluded that people whose lives were less "successful" than mine were in that position because of their own bad choices. It took college and a lot of unlearning to see that my “good choices” were only available because the structure was built for me.

The same logic operates at the community level. When a rural hospital closes after Medicaid cuts, residents blame the hospital, not the lawmakers who voted for the bill. When a farmer in Colorado threatens to mechanize rather than pay overtime, the framing is that labor protections killed the farm, not that the farm’s business model depended on paying workers less than the legal standard in every other industry. The American Dream teaches people to punch down and look away from the hand above them.

What would it look like to say no?

There are signs of resistance. At least 25 data center projects were cancelled across the United States in 2025 after community opposition, four times the number in 2024. Rural school voucher programs have been blocked by rural Republicans who understand that their public schools are the backbone of their communities. Bernie Sanders and Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez drew 10,000 people to Greeley, Colorado, a conservative town in Weld County, on a message of class solidarity across the rural-urban divide.

None of these are sufficient. But they share a feature that the American Dream framework lacks: they start from the premise that rural communities have the right to decide what happens to their land, their labor, and their resources. That premise is incompatible with a system that treats rural space as a site of extraction and rural people as obstacles to progress.

Congressman Ellzey’s hearing (referenced at the beginning of this post) promised rural America seven jobs for every data center. Nobody on the panel asked how many jobs, aquifers, and night skies those same communities would lose. Until that question gets equal time, the American Dream will keep doing what it has always done: blaming the most vulnerable among us for their poverty and lack of resources, while lionizing the most powerful people in this country as they get increasingly wealthy. 

40 hours or 60: Who decides what rural labor is worth?

Sugar beet worker in Colorado (1938). Source: Library of Congress 

In 2011, this blog post observed that farmworkers:

[R]eceive little protection from the law...[and] are excluded from the National Labor Relations Act.

The National Labor Relations Act gives workers the right to unionize, and the exclusion of farm workers is part of a broader pattern. The Fair Labor Standards Act of 1938 similarly exempted agricultural workers from overtime protections; a carve-out that persists at the federal level today. As the National Employment Law Project has noted, Congress approved this exemption as part of a:

[G]rand compromise that excluded farm and domestic workers - who were overwhelmingly Black - from the protections being afforded to other workers.

Colorado is now testing whether states can succeed where the federal government has not; a move is afoot there to extend overtime protections to farmworkers without triggering the very harms those protections are meant to prevent. 

Here's some recent history. In 2021, Colorado Governor Jared Polis signed Senate Bill ("SB") 21-087, the "Farmworker Bill of Rights," which brought agricultural workers under state overtime rules for the first time. The law was phased in gradually, initially kicking in at 60 hours per week, then declining over time. Currently, the law operates through a bifurcated system: workers harvesting outside the peak season are generally paid overtime after 48 hours, while peak-season workers receive overtime after 56 hours. 

Map of Colorado Counties. Source: David Benbennick, Wikimedia Commons

Now, five years later, Democrats in the state legislature are split over what comes next. One bill would lower the threshold to 40 hours, matching the standard for other industries. A competing bill would raise it back to 60, essentially returning to where the phase-in began.  

Senator Jessie Danielson has introduced SB 26-081, which would lower the threshold to 40 hours per workweek or 12 hours per workday, matching the standard for most other Colorado workers. Senate Majority Leader Robert Rodriguez is expected to introduce a competing bill that would raise the threshold to 60 hours before overtime applies. 

Farm operators argue that a 40-hour threshold could be fatal. Don Brown, a Yuma County farmer and former state agriculture commissioner, told Colorado Politics that if the 40-hour bill passes, "we will have to figure out how to eliminate jobs and mechanize more."

Peach picker in Palisade, CA (2015).
Source: Library of Congress. 

Bruce Talbott, owner of Talbott Farms, is the largest fruit grower on the Western Slope: a portion of Colorado that is west of the Continental Divide (the mountain ridge that separates rivers flowing to the Pacific Ocean from those flowing to the Atlantic Ocean), and is home to the state's fruit-growing industry. Talbott Farms recently built a new bunkhouse to spread hours across more workers to minimize overtime. In response to the possibility of lowering the overtime threshold to 40 hours, Talbott stated: 

All businesses have to live within their means. In the end, it's the farmworker who gets hurt. 

The industry also faces broader challenges. The director of the Colorado Department of Agriculture's market division noted that net farm income is projected to drop to $1.8 billion in 2026 - $400 million lower than the previous year - citing fluctuating markets and low commodity prices. 

Farmworker advocates see the issue differently. Betty Velasquez of Project Protect Food Systems Workers argues:

[Farmworkers] are the people providing food on our tables. They should have access to earn more money as well. 

Advocates also contend that the industry has not produced data showing overtime rules specifically cause harm, and they point out that reduced hours have given workers more time with their families. Yet, the empirical picture is also contested. 

A 2023 study by UC Berkeley researcher Alexandra Hill found that California's overtime law led to reduced hours and earnings for farmworkers after employers shortened workweeks to avoid overtime costs. Hill's continued research found that by 2022:

[California farmworkers] earned about a hundred dollars less per week on average than they would have without the law in place. 

The Colorado debate exposes a structural tension in rural livelihood policy. Agricultural exceptionalism - the legal tradition of treating farm labor as categorically different - was born of a racist compromise in 1938. States like Colorado and California are now experimenting with alternatives. Those experiments produce uneven results, with some states like New York and Oregon offering tax credits to offset higher labor costs while others press forward without such cushions. Workers and operators each claim to speak for the rural interest. 

Senator Danielson insists the state should be doing more to protect farmworkers. Senator Rodriguez frames the dilemma as "death by 1,000 cuts" - death to farmers, that is - by water shortages, tariffs, and now labor costs. 

Both are Democrats. Both represent rural livelihoods. Neither has a clean answer.

SNAP under fire

Credit: USDA, May 2010
The Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program (“SNAP”) has played a pivotal role as one of the most effective tools for combating food insecurity at a federal level. Food insecurity and food desserts often go hand in hand, and this blog has previously discussed their impacts. The current administration has proposed major changes to SNAP under the Make America Health Again (“MAHA”) campaign, but what exactly is happening? And how will those changes impact rural Americans differently than urban ones? 

In July 2025, Congress passed H.R. 1 (the "One Big Beautiful Bill"), which introduced significant federal cuts to a range of social programs, including SNAP. Beginning in October 2027, the law will change SNAP’s work requirement policy, payment error rate policy, and the share of administrative costs covered by the federal government.

SNAP time-limit work requirements require participants to spend at least 80 hours per month engaged in allowable activities such as employment or job training. Previously, applied these requirements only to “able-bodied adults without dependents.” This group included people between the ages of 18 and 54 without children or a work-limiting disability, and excluded those who were pregnant, veterans, experiencing homelessness, or youth aged out of foster care. The new law expands these requirements. Now, non-disabled adults aged 55 to 64 without dependent children and non-disabled adults ages 18 to 64 whose youngest dependent is between the ages of 14 and 15 must meet the work requirement. In addition, the current law removes previous exemptions for veterans, people experiencing homelessness, and youth who aged out of foster care.

Beyond work requirements, the law also changes how states are held accountable for SNAP benefit distribution. SNAP defines the payment error rate as “the measurement of the accuracy of active case review.” In simple terms, the rate reflects the percentage of SNAP benefits that states issued incorrectly, including both overpayments and underpayments. In the past, states with high payment error rates were required to implement corrective action plans and could face financial penalties only after sustained high error rates over multiple years. Under the new law, states with payment error rates exceeding six percent will be required to absorb a portion of their SNAP benefit costs.

However, past data suggests that this threshold is set too low. In 2024, only seven states reported payment error rates below six percent. Additionally, in an effort to increase cost-sharing, the federal government has reduced the percentage of administrative costs it will cover, lowering the federal share from 50 percent to 25 percent. Administrative costs include staffing, case management, eligibility verification, IT systems, and customer service infrastructure. Cutting federal support in half places a higher burden on state budgets and makes it difficult for states to reduce payment error rates and properly enforce SNAP eligibility requirements.

Consequently, this cost-sharing structure will likely impose the greatest hardships on under-resourced states. For example, based on Ohio’s previous error rates, the state could potentially be on the hook for $318 million in SNAP benefit costs.

In addition to restructuring how SNAP operates, policymakers have also pushed to change what participants can purchase with their benefits. The MAHA movement has pushed to restrict the types of food that can be purchased with SNAP benefits. For decades, federal policy allowed SNAP benefits to be used to purchase any food item except alcohol and ready-to-eat hot foods. States wishing to impose any additional restrictions were required to obtain a waiver from the U.S. Department of Agriculture (USDA). While these federal rules remain in place several states encouraged by the current administration, have applied for waivers that would prevent SNAP benefits from being used to purchase “junk foods.” Beginning January 1, 2026, a number of states, including Utah, West Virginia, Nebraska, Iowa, and Indiana, implemented restrictions preventing SNAP participants from using their benefits to purchase soda.

Supporters of the MAHA movement frame these changes as necessary to combat a national health crisis, critics disagree. Opponents highlight the barriers that many rural communities already face when trying to access food. In some areas, residents may only have access to gas stations or small convenience markets as their primary food sources. Additional restriction on eligible food purchases could leave SNAP participants with few practical options for using their benefits. Furthermore, health policy experts note that limiting choices does not guarantee that individuals will make “healthier” decisions. Instead, these restrictions that limit food purchasing options may undermine participants’ autonomy and dignity.

Taken together, these changes represent a significant shift in the federal approach to SNAP. Expanded work requirements, increased state cost burdens, and new restrictions on eligible food purchases may share how participants access and use benefits. These changes will be felt strongly in many rural communities with limited food access. One in seven rural households rely on SNAP. For these Americans, limited job opportunities, seasonal or unstable employment, and long distances to workplaces make it significantly harder to consistently meet work requirements, especially when reliable transportation and childcare options remain scarce.

The robots are coming to the Salad Bowl

Pro-immigrant demonstrators in Omaha, Nebraska. Photo Credit: NBC News

In June 2025, President Trump paused immigration raids on agricultural workplaces after Agriculture Secretary Brooke Rollins warned that farmers were growing uneasy about the crackdown. As this blog noted at the time, the pause was short-lived. By October, the Labor Department’s own filing in the Federal Register admitted the crackdown risked “supply shock-induced food shortages.”

Then the federal government made matters worse by lowering wages. A new H-2A  rule (the program sets a federal minimum pay rate for employers hiring foreign agricultural workers) cut the pay rate for guest farmworkers across the country. In California, the rate for unskilled workers dropped from $19.97 to $13.45 per hour, and the United Farm Workers sued. The Economic Policy Institute estimated that farmworkers stand to lose $4.4 to $5.4 billion annually.

This is the context in which agricultural automation is arriving in rural California. The question is who does it serve and who does it displace?

The Salad Bowl goes synthetic

Salinas Valley, California (the “Salad Bowl of the World”) produces the majority of the nation’s lettuce, broccoli, and strawberries. Located in Monterey County, Salinas Valley is over 60% Hispanic or Latino, and the local economy depends on agricultural labor.

In 2025, a nonprofit called the Reservoir opened Reservoir Farms, the first on-farm robotics incubator in California, on 40 acres in Salinas. Backed by companies like John Deere and Driscoll’s (the berry company), the incubator provides startups with fabrication shops, pre-planted test fields, and access to commercial growers. It has since expanded to Sonoma County for vineyard automation.

A “vineyard robot” at work. Photo credit: Cornell Agritech

The startups coming to Salinas Valley build machines designed to do what farm workers currently do by hand. Israeli startup DailyRobotics is deploying robotic strawberry harvesters in California starting April 2026, claiming it works at two to three times the speed of human pickers.

One analysis estimated that strawberry automation alone could eliminate nearly 30,000 farmworker positions in California. The machines, which cost around $300,000 each, are priced for large-scale operations and out of reach for small family growers.

Fast advances in robotics means automated strawberry picking. Photo Credit: DailyRobotics

A manufactured crisis

The labor shortage driving this transition is real, but it is not natural. Over 40% of U.S. farmworkers are undocumented, according to the USDA and the Kaiser Family Foundation. The Trump administration’s immigration enforcement has removed workers from the labor pool while cutting wages for the legal guest workers who remain. In Minnesota, for example, H-2A visa numbers dropped 12% in the first half of 2025.

A prior post on this blog documented this pattern through the 2008 Postville, Iowa raid: 389 arrests in a town of 2,500, the departure of another 1,000 immigrants, the loss of 7% of the county’s workforce, and the bankruptcy of the local factory. The void was eventually filled by a new immigrant workforce from Palau.

The pattern holds internationally. Another post on this blog examined Italy’s “Agro-Mafia,” where restrictive immigration policy has not reduced agricultural dependence on migrant labor but has driven it underground into exploitative networks where workers earn as little as 3 to 4 euros an hour. Punitive enforcement produces either exploitation or automation, depending on who has capital.

Who benefits?

Reservoir Farms says the right things about workforce transition. Its CEO has stated that “automation should augment the workforce, not replace it,” and the Reservoir has partnered with Hartnell College on retraining programs. But as one community organizer in Salinas noted: “We support training, but we also know not every displaced worker will become a robot mechanic.”

Farmworkers harvest strawberries at Lewis Taylor Farms in Georgia. Photo Credit: Lance Cheung

The farmworker communities that have sustained Salinas Valley for generations face a displacement that is social and cultural. Lisa R. Pruitt and Marta R. Vanegas have written about “urbanormativity,” which is the tendency for legal and policy frameworks to render rural populations invisible. Farmworkers in Salinas are doubly invisible: rural and immigrant, performing labor the nation depends on but does not want to see.

This echoes what I wrote about in a previous post on AI data centers in rural Arizona. In both cases, Silicon Valley capital arrives in rural spaces to solve what might be seen as urban problems. Data centers serve urban tech consumers, and harvesting robots serve urban grocery consumers. The costs (labor displacement and strained local resources) fall on the rural communities that host the infrastructure.

The choice ahead

Agricultural automation is probably inevitable. Some of these technologies could genuinely improve conditions for farmworkers. But the federal government that paused immigration raids in June, reversed course days later, cut guest worker wages in October, and admitted to “supply shock-induced food shortages” in a Federal Register filing has offered farmworker communities in places like Salinas no reason to believe help is on the way.

The robots are coming to the Salad Bowl. The question is whether anyone in Washington has thought about what happens to the people already there.

Will Trump's immigration policies hurt the farmers who supported him?

Photo Credit: Larry Valenzuela, CalMatters/CatchLight Local (2025)

In the 2024 election, Trump had the most support from rural America, winning 93% of rural counties. Rural Americans have been supporting Trump since his first election in 2016 due to his pro-gun policies, tax cuts, and direct agricultural support. However, these supporters now face economic hardship, healthcare cuts, and agricultural harm with the new initiatives by the 2024 Trump administration. Additionally, the immigration enforcement by the Trump administration has led to ICE raids across farmlands, which has been detrimental to farmers. With mass deportation of immigrant laborers, the agricultural business has been suffering because many immigrants come to the U.S. and are hired as farmers.

Read more blog posts about Trump’s support from rural Americans and effects of that support during 2016 here, here, and here.

Figure Credit: Pew Research Center (2025)

While immigrants do not make up an exceedingly large portion of the rural population, they do play an important role in the rural workforce, especially in the healthcare, agriculture, construction, and service industries. Additionally, rural areas need migration to prevent their populations from dying out, and many rural areas rely on immigrants – not only to keep the local economy afloat, but also to have stability in their populations. In this post, I will be focusing only on agricultural workers, but I want to flag that immigrants come to America for all types of opportunities, Immigrants are not only farmers or farmworkers.

Figure Credit: KFF; Authors: Drishti Pillai and Samantha Artiga (2025)

Pew Data research also shows that in general undocumented immigrants make up 5% of the US workforce and 53% of hired labor on farms. Agriculture seems to be the industry most reliant on undocumented workers. Farm owners have suggested that the only people showing up for employment on these farms tend to be immigrants. Farm owners do not care whether the workers are properly documented or not because they need people who are willing to work. To be frank, undocumented workers are being exploited because of the fear of being “caught.” Undocumented workers will take a lower wage, no healthcare and social security in order to have any work available to them. They take jobs that don't pay them enough to have a sustainable family lifestyle, just for the sake of having a job. And farm owners would hire them because of that very reason, paired with the fact the immigrant workers are willing to do the manual labor. And the reality is American citizens do not want to be farmers nor farm laborers anymore.

Interestingly, many farmers voted for Trump, knowing that the immigration policies could potentially affect their employees. Many farm owners rely heavily on immigrants. Now, undocumented farm workers are afraid to show up to work, in fear of being caught by ICE and getting deported. There has also been an increase in self-deportations as well due to the fearmongering by the Trump administration, and undocumented immigrants not wanting to take the risk of being detained by ICE and potentially getting criminally charged (which would hurt any potential for becoming naturalized down the line). The agricultural economy depends on immigrants to help harvest the crops and send produce out to stores. The immigration policies and raids, while heavily affecting agriculture, is (in reality) affecting all Americans’ lives. The inhumane treatment of immigrants by ICE needs to be discussed, maybe then people will be more empathetic to what is happening by this administration. People are risking their lives to come work in the states, people who take the lower pay wages, and we need to protect those people.

If rural American farmers were more aware of how these policies could have affected them, perhaps would they not have voted for Trump in 2024? That seems to be mostly untrue. While a few rural farmers may be regretting their vote, most are staying loyal to Trump saying that they think “tariffs eventually will make [them] great again.” Only some farmers have recognized that Trump’s immigration policies are hurting the American agricultural business. What will happen if Trump continues to ignore that rural America is dependent on migrant settlement and labor?

I'll close with a quote from a Wisconsin dairy farmer:

“We built an economy that relies on people, but we have a public policy that demonizes them” - Hans Breitenmoser discussing immigrant agricultural workers and Trump’s policies

When a broken tractor becomes a legal issue, the right to repair is critical

For farmers, the ability to repair equipment quickly is more than just a convenience; it's essential for making a living. Yet, as farm equipment has become more technologically advanced, the legal and contractual rules governing the right to repair ("RTR") have changed, restricting when, how, and by whom repairs can be done. What was once a mechanical issue has increasingly become a legal matter. 

Photo Credit (2026): John Deere Utility Tractor

RTR is the principle that owners should be able to repair products they lawfully purchase or choose who repairs them, without being forced to use the manufacturer's authorized services. This seems like a straightforward concept that would benefit both rural and urban consumers by preventing a manufacturer's monopoly in the repair market. However, in a 2022 paper on RTR legislation, researcher and Assistant Professor Luyi Yang cautioned that: 

[RTR] legislation can potentially lead to a lose-lose-lose outcome that compromises manufacturer profit, reduces consumer surplus, and increases the environmental impact despite repair being made easier and more affordable. 

Yang's argument complicates the idea that expanding repair rights automatically helps consumers. For rural communities, this raises the question: even if broader RTR legislation changes markets, who is paying the price for limited RTR access right now, and who benefits from it?

These market dynamics are not overlooked by the federal government. In its 2021 report, Nixing the Fix, the Federal Trade Commission ("FTC") addressed concerns about RTR in the auto industry. While acknowledging the manufacturers' justifications, the FTC noted that many restrictions lacked empirical support. The report concluded:

Although manufacturers have offered numerous explanations for their repair restrictions, the majority are not supported by the record...[R]epair restrictions have made it difficult for consumers to exercise [the RTR].

The FTC's stance indicates a willingness to view RTR access through the lens of fair competition, rather than through contractual obligations or restraints. 

While much of the early debate over RTR focused on consumer electronics and automobiles, similar conflicts have occurred in rural America. A 2023 blog post explains that farm equipment owners have long resisted companies like John Deere, seeking the ability to repair their own machines instead of relying solely on manufacturer-controlled repair networks. 

This conflict mirrors rural legal battles over water access, as discussed in a 2026 blog post, where formal legal rights exist on paper but are limited in practice by geography and concentrated market power. In both contexts, laws interact with rural conditions in ways that can weaken rural economies. 

Steelhead Creek - Sacramento, CA (2024)

In 2025, the FTC sued John Deere over its repair practices. Plaintiffs alleged that the company's RTR restrictions created unfair barriers to competition by limiting access to diagnostic software and tools. FTC Chair Lina Khan stated:

Illegal repair restrictions can be devastating for farmers, who rely on affordable and timely repairs to harvest their crops and earn their income... The FTC's action... seeks to ensure that farmers across America are free to repair their own equipment or use repair shops of their choice. 

Here, the law is seen not just as a neutral enforcer of contracts, but as a way to shift bargaining power between manufacturers and farmers. For the latest update on the FTC's suit against John Deere, click here.

Farm Action, a farmer-led advocacy group, expressed views similar to Khan, stating that manufacturers have taken away farmers' meaningful repair autonomy by withholding diagnostic software, stating:

By withholding the software to diagnose and repair, manufacturers force farmers to go to the nearest authorized dealership, which might be hundreds of miles away. 

Efforts to improve RTR access through state legislation have produced uneven results. According to the National Conference of State Legislatures, 33 states and Puerto Rico considered RTR legislation during the 2023 legislative session. As of today, Colorado is the only state to have enacted legislation extending RTR protections to agricultural equipment, setting an example for other states considering similar measures. 

The legal frameworks governing RTR access have obvious impacts on rural livelihoods. As the RTR movement advances, the ongoing question is whether legal systems will recognize RTR access as essential to rural economic independence or continue to frame it as an optional feature within privately controlled equipment markets. 

Chronicle of Higher Education features LSU-Alexandria as an institution successfully serving rural students

Dan Berrett reports on Louisiana State University-Alexandria's success in surviving the rural area amidst which it sits.  The headline is Rural America, Growth Area? and the sub-head is "There’s a growing population of high-school seniors waiting to be reached — if colleges can figure out how to better serve them."  Here are some key excerpts:  

On the surface, Louisiana State University at Alexandria might seem like an institution in trouble. It’s a public regional campus in a rural swath of the state, located in a city of under 50,000 that hugs the Red River and is “surrounded by forest and farmland,” says Adam Lord, a spokesperson for the university. Central Louisiana, according to Lord, is “defined by work-force shortages, growing health-care deserts, and limited access to degree programs.” Less than one-third of the city’s adults have at least an associate degree, below both the state and national average.

But the institution saw its enrollment more than double between 2013 and 2023, largely by focusing on the regional and state population. The heavily rural, 11-parish area in which the campus sits accounts for 94 percent of its student body, and the state’s residents make up 70 percent of its online learners. LSU-Alexandria has grown largely by expanding its online enrollment and touting its low cost and high value. The undergraduate-only institution has developed pipelines to the state’s graduate professional programs. It’s created programs for the rural work force — including aviation, disaster preparedness, and cybersecurity — and programs that feed into local companies, like RoyOMartin, a plywood manufacturer, and utilities and hospitals.

Where its graduates once left for Texas, the institution is now trying to keep them at home.

* * * 

The notion that rural areas are growing runs counter to a decades-long narrative of decline.

* * *

The largest increase in undergraduate enrollment — more than 9 percent — over the past two years has been among institutions in rural areas, according to the National Student Clearinghouse Research Center.

“There is a slight gain in the number of rural students. That’s the news,” says Patrick Lane, vice president for policy analysis and research at WICHE.

* * * 

Several scholars of rural higher education who spoke with The Chronicle come from such areas themselves, and they consistently recall feeling alienated when they arrived on campus — not unlike what first-generation students and students of color describe, says Tony Pipa, a senior fellow in the Center for Sustainable Development at the Brookings Institution, who has written about rural America and produces a podcast on the subject. “They feel like a fish out of water,” he says of rural students. “Rural is an identity.”

That sense of identity can leave a lasting impact, says Andrew Koricich, a professor of higher education and student affairs at Appalachian State University.

* * *

When rural scholars meet each other, they might find common ground discussing how many 
stoplights or how few people were in the communities in which they grew up, Koricich says. The sense of identity expresses itself in deeper ways, too. “I think there’s a piece of it that is very much around self-sufficiency,” he says. “You meet other rural scholars and we have similar stories about how we had to figure out everything ourselves.”

I really appreciate the attention here to rurality as identity, which is consistent with a recent finding by political scientists regarding rural voters.  

Lots of rural (and Southern) stereotypes in today's NYT opinion

Today's NY Times opinion podcast featured three southerners in conversation under the headline, "There is No Trump Without the South."  Here are some excerpts that play to stereotypes of the South--and its conflation with rurality. (That conflation is not entirely inaccurate in that the South is the most rural region of the nation).  Rural-urban tension is also touched on, as a sort of parallel to the tension between the South (and what it represents) and the rest of the nation.  

Jamelle Bouie:  

One observation everyone in this conversation has made and other people have made is the way that there has emerged an almost generic national rural culture.

It’s a certain kind of country music. It’s a certain kind of pickup truck. You see it if you go to rural New Hampshire, if you go to rural Montana, if you go to rural Illinois. It’s very much rooted in a franchised version of a white Southern rurality.

And I bring that up to say that it’s both the case that the country will shunt its difficult conversations, as Tressie said, about race to the South and make it a Southern problem. But it’s always been the case that the rest of the country has been fascinated by the South in really important ways.

* * * 

Tressie McMillan Cottom: 

Every time a Southern politician goes out and they congratulate themselves about building the new car factory or the new battery maker in some rural part of their Southern state or municipality, what they have generally done is they have made a deal with either a national or a transnational conglomerate that says: You do not have to worry about unionizing.

* * * 

And what we are seeing here is not just a transplant of people but of ideas that don’t necessarily create that kind of mobility for Southern workers across the South, which then leads to a war, a battle for the soul of rural America that you can feel very tangibly in the South.

David French: 

I come from a town — when I was growing up there, it was about 8,000 people. We had three stoplights in a rural town in Kentucky. That’s where I spent my elementary and high school years, and it’s unrecognizable now because a Toyota manufacturing plant came there and completely transformed the city.

But these are good, high-paying jobs. They are transformative jobs in these parts of the South, but it is absolutely true that they also pull and draw jobs from other parts of America. And it’s one of the reasons I think so many people have been moving to the South.

Bouie:

But I also want to say that part of the allure of the South as a cultural object — and this is getting back to what Tressie had said earlier about cost of living — is not simply that things might be cheaper but that you have an opportunity to use your wealth, for lack of a better term, to dominate other people.

You can have a big compound in the middle of Texas and drive a gigantic vehicle and use all the resources you’d like and boss people around.

McMillan Cottom: 

It’s the “Yellowstone”-ification of the country, Jamelle.

Bouie: 

Yes. And that aspect of it — there’s no policy you can do to compete with that, I guess. Because what a place like California is offering, the trade-off is it’s going to be more expensive to live there. Unless you are in the highest echelon of income earners, you’re not going to be able to hire someone to look after your house for dirt cheap, right? You won’t be able to exploit someone so easily.

But you are going to live in this multicultural, cosmopolitan place where people are going to exist, at least culturally, on some plane of equality. And if you like that kind of life and experience, that’s what you’re in L.A. for, that’s what you’re in New York for, that’s what you’re in Chicago for and all the places that are their own places but offer a smaller or more manageable versions of that thing.

* * * 

McMillan Cottom: 

Now, I think at the state level — again, especially in a place like North Carolina — we tend to prefer a more socially conservative performance of Southern politics. But on the ground, especially when you’re talking about local elections, it is that the Democratic Party wants to run a far more conservative candidate than can excite the base across the rural parts of the South.

Bouie: 

I think that it would be a good idea for the Democratic Party to make serious investments in Mississippi, a state where Democratic candidates with no investment routinely hit the mid-40s in statewide elections. That’s a clear sign.

It’s going to be really hard to close that gap because of racial polarization in the state. But the gap can be closed, and making Mississippi competitive would be a huge blow to Republicans if you’re a Democrat. It changes the game.

Trump pulls back from immigration enforcement in agricultural sector

This quote is from the New York Times story quoting "an email by a senior ICE official, Tatum King, to regional leaders of the ICE department that generally carries out criminal investigations, including work site operations, known as Homeland Security Investigations."  

Effective today, please hold on all work site enforcement investigations/operations on agriculture (including aquaculture and meat packing plants), restaurants and operating hotels.  

The story continues:  

The email explained that investigations involving “human trafficking, money laundering, drug smuggling into these industries are OK.” But it said — crucially — that agents were not to make arrests of “noncriminal collaterals,” a reference to people who are undocumented but who are not known to have committed any crime.

The Department of Homeland Security confirmed the guidance.

I wrote yesterday about recent immigration raids in the agriculture sector.  

Postscript:  Here is fuller analysis from the New York Times on June 14 of Trump's about face on raids in the agricultural sector.   The story's lede follows: 

On Wednesday morning [June 11], President Trump took a call from Brooke Rollins, his secretary of agriculture, who relayed a growing sense of alarm from the heartland.

Farmers and agriculture groups, she said, were increasingly uneasy about his immigration crackdown.

* * *

Farmers rely on immigrants to work long hours, Ms. Rollins said. She told the president that farm groups had been warning her that their employees would stop showing up to work out of fear, potentially crippling the agricultural industry.

She wasn’t the first person to try to get this message through to the president, nor was it the first time she had spoken to him about it. But the president was persuaded.

This has me thinking how interesting it would be to know which big corporate players in the agricultural sector have Rollins' ear; whose calls does she take?  Several of the stories I read about the immigration raids on agricultural interests mention the Farm Bureau as opposing the raids and raising alarms over their consequences for producers.    

Also from the NYT story is this interesting tidbit: 

Inside the West Wing, top White House officials were caught off guard — and furious at Ms. Rollins. Many of Mr. Trump’s top aides, particularly Stephen Miller, his deputy chief of staff, have urged a hard-line approach, targeting all immigrants without legal status to fulfill the president’s promise of the biggest deportation campaign in American history.

A sustainable transition (Part V): How and why?

If you’ve read the preceding blog posts in this series, thank you for sifting through my life as I try to sift through these issues. Here is the crux of it all: 

I offer three main reasons by which localized renewable infrastructure situated on brownfield sites is a legitimate—and possibly necessary—component of the green transition.

First, giving local control of renewable sites to rural communities would allow these communities the financial wiggle room to transition. There is no payment plan directed only directed at the individuals affected, which may prove problematic if it incentivizes individuals to merely stockpile that money as they search for other employment. The primary benefit of this program, if properly enacted by the local government, would serve as a form of Universal Basic Income to the entire community. This mirrors the Alaska Oil surplus payment program, which has been well-received by the community and has been compared to a “Universal Basic Dividend.” Such a scheme would also not require an application process and a congressionally allocated stockpile of dollars, which has doomed the other federal transition policies. 

Furthermore, now that this community has a bit of a financial windfall, it could stock its own coffers and be more protected from fiscal spin. It could also use that excess energy to improve the quality of life of the area by subsidizing air conditioning and heating or alternatively diversify its economy into more energy-dependent fields like coding, telecommunication, and business. Finally, the community could even sell the excess energy as a source of local revenue. 

Second, by benefiting cities, any city initiatives in funding nearby rural areas will be seen as investments in a collective future, not a bailout of “the other.” Not only would a decentralized grid lower costs for cities, but it would also reduce the strain on the grid for times of emergency. While an isolated power grid can be disastrous, one that is independent but still connected could provide necessary power in times of strife but cut back on the possibility of overextension. This is further bolstered by the fact that many fossil fuel communities are located where things have died, not where there live. While humans tend to settle along water, arable land, and protection, fossil fuel communities spring up around and because of a resource, including Death Valley. 

Third, by harmonizing rural-urban relations, communication is fostered between rural and urban areas, instead of a game of telephone between corporations who have every interest in disrupting this transparency for their benefit. By eliminating the corporate middleman, we can start to have an honest conversation of what we both need, and what we can both provide. Yes, rural areas provide the majority of food, energy, and natural resources, to urban areas. But they do so through corporations. In this proposed solution, cities and rural areas would be able to negotiate with each other and see each other. And yes, the conversation may not always be fully amicable, but I believe that to be necessary to establishing a more proper relationship between these social units. 

What I advocate is not necessarily a just transition. I do not have a plan to introduce similarly lucrative jobs into a community. What I advocate is not necessarily environmental justice, as pure environmental justice would balk at neutering brownfields that might otherwise be more fully remediated, and argues for some degree of infrastructure in places that have been heavily damaged by industry. But what I advocate is some consideration that as we transition, we need a safety net, and as we pursue environmental justice, we cannot paternalistically deny a community’s decision to take on the costs of such a project. What I advocate is a fully transparent, remedial, and voluntary middle ground between just transitions and environmental justice, and a way to harmonize the Economy and Environment components of the sustainable development triangle. A transition can’t happen overnight, and justice forced on an unwilling participant is rarely just. So, there it is, and there I’ll let it lie.

A Sustained Transition (Part II): Place, Personality, and Progress

Leo Tolstoy’s novel Anna Karenina opens with “All happy families are alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.” This beautiful opening, once mulled over and mulched through by a stable of intellectuals and thinkers, birthed the “Anna Karenina Principle,” which dictates that a deficiency in any one of a number of factors results in failure, while success requires that every possible deficiency has been avoided. That is, while the avoidance of failure is not sufficient for a successful condition, it is necessary. This does not deal with personal or metaphysical concepts of success, but rather individual iterations of success. In plain language, a successful outcome requires an absence of failure, as explained below. 

My favorite example of this principle is in examining why so few species have been domesticated. Six groups of reasons have been advanced, and for a species to be domesticated, all six must be satisfied. Garbage-disposal type eaters have a diet that allows fluctuations in feed;  a quick growth rate allows for slaughter or servitude; complicated mating rituals requiring privacy or protracted time will rule out a species from the day-to-day speed of human transaction; hale beasts cannot also have a hard-headed temperament; an animal that is prone to fighting or flighting with vigor will prove difficult to control; and a herd-mentality makes for a good herd—independence goes against the grain. 

As stated in Part I of this series, the current literature about a green transition fails to consider how we keep fossil fuel communities alive. “Just transitions” protect individuals from the loss of their livelihood. “Environmental justice” protects places from the intrusion of pollution and other environmental costs. But there is no meaningful discussion about how to protect the communities, once the fossil fuel aspect is removed. Just transitions could easily incentivize a worker to leave their community to find work elsewhere. Environmental justice could easily incentivize urban siting of renewable industry and infrastructure. While this reduces pollution in rural areas, it could also remove much-needed economic infrastructure in these areas. 

Furthermore, a fossil fuel town is not comprised of barracks of derrickhands. It is a community with retail workers, teachers, retirees, and so on. The concept of just transitions is insufficient in that while it compensates workers, it does not compensate the community that will also be affected by the loss of these jobs. It is one thing to ask a person to give up their livelihood. It is another to ask them to give up their life. 

I don’t mean a true death, but the death of a person’s routine, community, friendships, proximity to family, and even their home. This transition is arguably not “just” if it simply compensates workers and does nothing to preserve the community in which they live. 

Therein lies the Anna Karenina principle, as applied to the green transition:  failing to incorporate a plan to maintain these communities represents a deficiency that is simply unacceptable to rural people. Even if people are willing to accept new jobs, they aren’t as willing to accept lives that are altogether new. 

The rural concept of “place” is not wholly urban, but land use and a strong relationship between existing buildings and the landscape can be helpful in discussions surrounding what it means to be rural. Furthermore, Paul Cloke advocates, in his handbook of rural studies, that “scholars are continuing to recognize and study community as both an important social scale of analysis and a cultural unit in the discourses and social relations that shape people’s experiences.” 

This is echoed by a brilliant quip I heard earlier in the semester, that “you aren’t from a town until your great-great-grandfather is buried there.”

 On the other side of the coin is the notion of work. In academic circles, two groups of “low-status whites” are separated by the idea of work—generally speaking, “the settled working class” work consistently while the “hard living” do not. Staying on the right side of the ledger is paramount to staying in the good graces of the community. If you’re not working, you’re draining a bit of that that little we have. Back in my bartending days, I had a friend laid off. I asked him if he was pursuing welfare and he said, “No. Not only am I taking welfare, I will have had taken welfare. I don’t want that following me around. You think a wife wants a husband who has scraped by on somebody else’s dime when they still have poverty? It'm struggling, but I'm not poor.” 

I think, in some way, the social safety net is thought about as something that you grab as your falling, not as your stumbling. If you’re still vertical, your compatriots expect you to grab it and deny it, as you stay upright. The safety net is for those who have fallen, not those who are falling; and they should be the one who lands ok. If enough of us stretch out the net, landing on it is going to feel like concrete instead of cool water. 

Past transition attempts have been insufficient in mono-economic communities. For the sake of simplicity, here is what I will give as the definition: Mono-economies refer to economic systems that rely heavily on the production and export of a single crop or resource, limiting economic diversity and often leading to vulnerability. These economies are typically characterized by their dependence on external markets for a single commodity, which can create significant risks when market prices fluctuate. It is best to think of a fossil fuel economy, and other extractive communities, as a subset of a mono-economy. Detroit was the car manufacturing capital of the world, and when this industry collapsed so did the economy of the surrounding area. IBM Endicott employed the majority of the Endicott, New York in producing computers, and the decline of the manufacturing economy took its toll quickly and ruthlessly on the area, as the company transferred these operations to larger U.S. cities and overseas. 

Much in the same way, an economy predicated primarily on fossil fuel extraction will leave itself open to collapse if that resource collapses. While there are numerous examples, the “boomtown” model represents the stark dangers of a mono-economy, where a massive influx of workers to extract a natural resource of an area can lead to the wholesale collapse of a town when such extraction is no longer feasible, Analyzing these examples together reveals the same patterns of transitional insecurity. Pardon my French, but how do you pull piglets off a sour tit? I think in our calculations of what to do, we miss that there are fathers on the foot of beds, stinking of coal and oil and gas, and telling their sons that they have the same opportunity to keep the family afloat if they just start working in these industries. 

I will be as brief as I can here, because if you really want to get a masterful analysis of these policies, you should read Ann Eisenberg’s Just Transitions article. Within it, she analyzes four federal transitional policies— (1) The Trade Act of 1974, (2) The President’s Northwest Forest Plan, (3) The Tobacco Transition Payment Program, and (4) the POWER initiative. There were common problems with all of these programs, but there are four that I want to highlight. 

First, the Trade Act did not meaningfully combat the increased competition for displaced workers, resulting in nearly forty percent of those workers unable to find new jobs within one to two years after job loss.  Second, the President’s Northwest Plan did not create any meaningful jobs—it paid out money to individuals but did little to “provide long-term economic growth and security” for former timber counties. 

Third, the Tobacco Transition Payment Program paid out compensation to those engaged in the trade but ended up compensating large tobacco corporations (the same ones that invested aggressively in science-denial) far more than they did individual farmers. Fourth, the POWER initiative, though focused on direct payments to workers affected by the coal and power industry, has failed to make its way out of congress.  Even when there is a way to compensate workers, other warring interests can prevent that compensation. 

Further complicating this relationship is a deep shame inherent in some rural communities associated with engaging in social safety nets like welfare. This is described in depth in Arlie Hochschild’s “Stolen Pride” as well as J.D. Vance’s “Hillbilly Elegy.”  There is also Jennifer Sherman’s book, Those Who Work, Those Who Don’t. In these highly proud communities, it is not enough to tell a breadwinner that “those who work, just can’t anymore.” By providing a payment, you are injecting much-needed money into a family unit. But that is a spitball of gauze aimed nicely into a mortal wound. A lot of these people consider work their worth, and a government payout is not only insufficient, but can even be insulting.

So, a transitionary process that merely pays out money to individuals (especially any payment plan which has to be sought out instead of merely given) will not be sufficient. 

Finally, there is also the problem of “fiscal spin,” wherein communities that hemorrhage people are stuck in a tailspin. As people leave, there are less taxes to support local infrastructure and improvement. With less taxes, these projects are abandoned or delayed. As these projects are abandoned or delayed, the quality of life in the area deteriorates. As the quality of life deteriorates, more people leave. As more people leave, the cycle continues. Similarly, when jobs evaporate, so too can labor unions. As labor unions evaporate, so too does their connection to the Democratic party. Furthermore, governmental regulations can disallow local governments from retaining revenue from new wind and solar projects, while exempting oil and natural gas revenue, thus incentivizing both profits and dependency. 

People cling to what they have and viciously defend what they once had. Thus, any just transition has to incorporate employment but also livelihood. How do you approach this problem fairly when the green transition is not only taking away jobs, but the primary jobs associated with a community? All this rigmarole dictates the following simple premise: the green transition must compensate communities as much as it aims to compensate individuals.

Agro-Mafia and the Caporalato: How far-right immigration policy is failing rural Italy

 Le Langhe, a region in Northern Italy, has been heralded as the "New Tuscany" for its scenic landscape, tartufi bianchi, and quality wines. It's one of many parts of Italy that relies on rural agricultural practices for economic output. The agri-food industry in Italy accounts for almost 15 percent of its total GDP. It also represents an economic expansion: from 2006 to 2016, international demand for Italian wine grew by 74 percent. 

The people making the wine? Migrant workers from Romania, India, and Northern Africa. Foreign workers account for 10.3 percent of Italy's total workforce, but in the agricultural sector, around half of workers are migrants — around 400,000 or 500,000 people in total. Some are asylum seekers, fleeing violence from their home country. Some are hoping to pass through Italy to resettle further north, but are stuck due to European Union restrictions that require the first EU state an asylum seeker enters to be the one to adjudicate their claim. 

Trapped without status, many turn to temporary agricultural jobs in rural areas that pay little and require long hours. Their recruiters? Corporali, or intermediaries who offer migrants exploitative, temporary jobs and take a fee for providing them with work. 

Many refer to the Caporalato and their control of the industry as the "Agro-Mafia." In 2020, over 42 percent of Tuscany's 55,000-person workforce were migrants. Some reported working for as little as 3 to 4 euros an hour. The Migration Policy Institute estimates that when migrant workers are employed through corporali, their wages are sometimes 50 percent lower than those working under regulated contracts. Workers face rampant discrimination, racism, and poor working conditions. One worker in a study conducted by Amnesty International shared that after working from 6 AM to 6 PM and taking only a thirty-minute break, he was paid only 20 euros for his time. Rurality, of course, exacerbates all of these problems, leaving workers far from community resources and the employers with little oversight and incentive to stop their labor practices. 

In 2016, Italy passed Law No. 199/2016, which included criminal penalties for corporali and codified a new definition of "labor exploitation." However, the law has been heavily criticized for penalizing the intermediary worker, but not the employer itself. And given the high turnover in short-term agricultural work, many leave to a new job or exit the country entirely before prosecution is possible. 

The possibility of reform has become further complicated given dramatic changes in Italy's political landscape. In 2018, then-Interior Minister Matteo Salvini abolished all humanitarian aid in Italy. Tens of thousands of refugees lost their status, forcing many to turn to agricultural jobs and expanding the reach of the corporali. The 2022 national elections fared no better: Giorgia Meloni was sworn in as Italy's first female prime minister. Her party, Fratelli d'Italia ("Brothers of Italy"), now leads what is largely considered to be the most conservative Italian administration since World War II. Meloni recently announced that pursuant to a new agreement between their two countries, Albania will detain up to 36,000 migrants rescued by Italian authorities in the Mediterranean. The deal also included a dedicated €650 million for new detention centers.

Beyond the evident humanitarian crisis, extremist immigration practices will have an undeniable impact on rural economies. Border restrictions and punitive immigration policy will lead to labor shortages in the agricultural industry, which relies entirely on migrant labor. Not to mention that declining population levels in rural areas have often been filled by immigrants working in those communities. Camini, a commune that had a population of 751 in 2007, now hosts over 118 immigrants from Syria, Bangladesh, and Turkey. Camini exemplifies how immigrants are often the difference between a community collapsing entirely or thriving. 

Read more about agricultural crime in Italy here. This article further discusses rural population decline in Italy.