This is an edited transcript of an episode of “The Ezra Klein Show.” You can listen to the conversation by following or subscribing to the show on Apple, Spotify, Amazon Music, YouTube, iHeartRadio or wherever you get your podcasts.
I think there’s a particular lens worth using right now. As we watch the Trump administration deploying the National Guard from red states into blue cities, we are viewing a rural political coalition militarily occupying urban centers.
It is moving armed troops in over the objections of their residents, of their mayors and of their governors. Here’s JB Pritzker, the governor of Illinois:
Archived clip of JB Pritzker: Let me be clear: Donald Trump is using our service members as political props and as pawns in his illegal effort to militarize our nation’s cities.
The Trump administration is doing this while describing these cities as something like enemy territory. They need to be liberated, recaptured, taken back. Trump said this to a room of America’s top military leaders:
Archived clip of Donald Trump: It seems that the ones that are run by the radical left Democrats — what they’ve done to San Francisco, Chicago, New York, Los Angeles — they’re very unsafe places. And we’re going to straighten them out one by one. And this is going to be a major part for some of the people in this room. That’s a war, too. It’s a war from within.
Trump also said that the people in these cities resisting this occupation, these deployments, should be understood as insurrectionists.
Archived clip of Trump: We have an Insurrection Act for a reason. If I had to enact it, I’d do that. If people were being killed and, uh, courts were holding us up, or governors or mayors were holding us up, sure, I’d do that. I want to make sure that people aren’t killed.
For years, I have been skeptical of warnings that America was at risk of a renewed civil war. There were all kinds of reasons to not take that particularly seriously. But when I see troops being sent into cities over the objections of the people elected in those cities and states, when I hear them talked about in this way, I think you have to take those warnings more seriously now.
Archived clip of Trump: And I told Pete: We should use some of these dangerous cities as training grounds for our military — National Guard but military.
A massive rural urban divide has opened in our country’s politics. Urban and rural voters used to vote pretty much in lock step. But then in the 1990s, that split. Urban voters became reliably Democratic, and rural voters became overwhelmingly Republican.
We treat this as an inevitability in our politics, but it is only a few decades old, and our political future and stability might rest on reversing it. Certainly for the Democratic Party, any durable political power rests on reversing it. Reversing it isn’t going to be easy. But it begins with understanding it and taking seriously the resentments that fuel it.
“Rural Versus Urban,” a new book by the political scientists Suzanne Mettler and Trevor Brown is the best place I’ve found to start.
So I asked Mettler to join me on the show to walk me through how we got here — and whether we can find a way out.
Ezra Klein: Suzanne Mettler, welcome to the show.
Suzanne Mettler: Happy to be here.
I think a lot of people who have followed politics over the last 10, 20 years assume that the big political divide between rural America and urban America is a constant, an inevitability, just a feature of our politics.
Is that true?
No. The rural-urban divide did not exist nationwide in the past in the United States. If we look at how people voted in presidential elections through the middle of the 20th century right up to the early ’90s, rural and urban Americans voted almost in lock step, just a couple of percentage points dividing them.
That’s true as recently as 1992 — a 2 percentage point gap. Then it starts growing and growing and growing. In 2024, it was a 20 percentage point gap.
Now all regions of the country have moved in this way, have this big gap. Almost all states have a big rural-urban divide. And it’s really driving polarization in a particularly pernicious way because it’s place based: Rural and urban people don’t encounter one another in ways that could soften the divide, so it’s creating an us-versus-them kind of politics that’s really dangerous.
Before we get into what created the divide, beginning in the ’90s, what kept urban and rural America politically united for so long?
If you go back to, say, the late 19th, early 20th century, as industrialization is happening, rural areas really feel left behind. There’s a big agricultural depression in the 1920s. Then the Great Depression comes. And rural people at that point are really upset, and policymakers are worried there’s about to be a revolution in the countryside, as they call it.
But what happens is that Franklin D. Roosevelt steps in and creates this big rural-urban coalition. And to an extent that I was unaware of until we wrote this book, he really put rural Americans front and center in his vision of what needed to happen for the country and created all of these policies that were really designed to lift up rural America.
Archived clip of Franklin D. Roosevelt: I cannot escape the conclusion that one of the essential parts of a national program of restoration must be to restore purchasing power to the farming half of the country. Without this, the wheels of railroads and of factories will not turn.
Rural Americans really appreciated that. They felt the Democratic Party was there for them, and many of them remembered it for their lifetimes. And then their kids did, as well, all the way up until the 1990s.
In the 1980s and early ’90s, rural places were more likely to send Democrats to Congress than Republicans. Only a few decades ago, there was still a coalition where there were rural politicians who were really at the forefront in Congress in brokering compromises on all sorts of important policies.
When we study the Affordable Care Act, for example, you have all of these rural lawmakers who were really playing an important role and influencing the policy right up till the end. And those lawmakers are gone.
Bart Stupak, for example, who was a swing vote from the Upper Peninsula, in Michigan — he gets replaced by people who are like Marjorie Taylor Greene going forward.
So it moves from being these people who are functionally moderating polarization in America, who are building bridges — Stupak is a pro-life Democrat, very famously; Ben Nelson from Nebraska is the same thing — to the most extreme members of the Republican coalition.
You have something toward the end of the book where you show that, if you’re looking at Republicans, who is most likely to support the lies about the 2020 election. And it is heavily overrepresented by the Republicans who represent rural districts.
Yes. So on Jan. 6, 2021, when Congress reconvenes, there’s a large portion of the Republican caucus — about 138 members — who vote against accepting the votes from all of the states. And they’re heavily rural.
It’s not just that these folks who are being elected in rural areas now are more conservative on policy issues. It’s also that they are more willing to go against basic democratic norms and principles.
In 1964, Lyndon Johnson signed the Civil Rights Act into law. And that kicks off this process of ideological polarization, where the parties sort into liberal and conservative. The Dixiecrats die out.
And I think the most commonly believed story about what happened in the urban-rural divide is that they hated the Civil Rights Act. I think if you look at a lot of Democratic accounts of this, you’ll see something like that.
But you don’t buy that account. Why?
Yes, that’s wrong. So for one thing, just look at when the rural-urban divide emerged: It’s not until the late 1990s.
The story that you’re telling, usually the follow-up is that the South left the Democratic Party. Well, in fact, there were a lot of urban Southerners who left the Democratic Party. But rural Southerners stuck with it up until the 1990s, and then they left.
One of the most striking things that we find is that this rural-urban divide is not a function of differences in views about public policy. We look exhaustively at public opinion polls, and we find that on most issues, if you look at the views of non-Hispanic white Americans, there’s no difference — no significant difference — in their opinions about how much we should be spending money on things like education, health care, policing and so on.
There are a few issues, like abortion and gun rights, where there’s a gap. But the gap is not that large, and it hasn’t been growing over time, so it doesn’t explain this growing rural-urban divide.
In other words, while we are divided by place in terms of which party people support, that’s not because there’s a difference in Americans’ actual views in those two places on major issues.
So then why are people in rural America electing representatives who are so different on policy from the people they used to elect?
What we find is that when the rural-urban divide began to grow in the 1990s, it was economic factors that were driving it.
You had economic decline that was happening, starting in the 1980s: loss of family farms with agricultural consolidation, loss of jobs in extractive industries like mining and oil and the like. And then deindustrialization, which had already been hitting cities pretty hard — with NAFTA and change in trade policies, it hit rural areas to an extent that really surprised me. I wouldn’t have realized there was so much industry in rural places. So that’s in the late ’90s, early 2000s.
As all of that’s happening, rural people start to feel that this party that they had long thought was there for them, or they were at least willing to support on occasion — vote split ticket or whatever — they start to feel like it has abandoned them and that it’s no longer there for them.
I think it’s a factor that Bill Clinton was president during that point in time. Even though most Democrats in Congress were opposed to NAFTA and opposed a lot of deregulation that was happening, there were just enough Democrats endorsing it — and then Bill Clinton signing it into law. So rural people moved away from the Democratic Party and started supporting the Republican Party.
So let me push on some parts of this story. One thing that your book really did convince me of is that if you look at the timing of different things, the political divergence and economic divergence really do track each other.
But as you say, a lot of the policies people often blame here, not just NAFTA — there were a lot of free trade policies, there was a lot of deregulation — deregulation is a big focus of your book — they’re heavily supported by Republicans, to say nothing of taxes that are cut for rich people.
And then the spending cuts fall on programs that people in rural America use very heavily. Obamacare, in very important ways, subsidizes a lot of health care in rural America — helps hospitals there, helps people who are uninsured there.
The thing I was thinking as I was reading the book was that there is what happens — and then there is who is blamed for what happens. And when something happened that could be blamed on Democrats, you see it blamed on them. Why?
Well, I think you’re putting your finger on why this is so puzzling and paradoxical. Like I said, it starts with the economic stuff, but then the second phase is the development of resentment.
You go back to, say, 2008 to 2020 — at that point, rural Americans are looking at the Democratic Party and they start to think of it as having a center that is affluent people, wealthy people, people better off than themselves, who are running the party and who don’t seem to understand them or their communities. But they’re creating policies that they’re sort of foisting upon them in all sorts of different areas. And they resent it. That’s when grievance begins to grow.
So there’s this sense of anger, and it has become channeled at the Democratic Party, even though that is in many ways unfair. But I think it is true now that much of the Democratic Party, because it has become so distant from rural voters, doesn’t understand their situation and their communities. So there is a basis in fact there.
In 2008 — when George W. Bush was incredibly unpopular, the Iraq war was understood to be a disaster, the financial crisis was in full swing — Obama and the Democrats did quite well in rural America. It’s one of the last times on some of your charts when you see the cities and the rural areas swing together.
Yes.
Then the first bailout passes under George W. Bush, but the Democrats support it. The recovery from the financial crisis is slow, and it is slower in rural America. There was a feeling that the banks got bailed out, the cities ended up doing fine. The stock market comes back, but the devastation in rural America really lingers.
How much did you hear about that, and how much do you think that soured people in these areas on the Democratic Party in a kind of final fashion?
One of the things we did for our research was interviewing political party county chairs — both Democrats and Republicans — in several states. I drove thousands of miles and talked to a lot of people.
I remember one county chair saying to us: We’ve been in a recession here for 30 years.
In a sense, it’s all been a blur — from the loss of jobs that was happening in the 1990s and early 2000s, as plants closed and work forces downsized, to then what happened in 2008 and beyond, with the Great Recession. Things went from bad to worse.
How much is this educational polarization — that what you’re seeing is the cities are much more highly educated, with a greater density of college graduates? How much is the urban-rural language simply obscuring the main issue being the educational divide?
The educational divide certainly plays into it and is very important.
It’s fascinating: You go back to the 1980s, and the average person with a college degree or more in the United States voted for the Republican Party.
That changes starting in the ’90s. That group starts moving toward the Democratic Party. These are urbanites with higher education.
It’s not until 2008 and beyond that rural people start to emulate that same pattern. But the average rural person has less education, and the switch that’s happening is from the Democratic Party to the Republican Party.
So the educational divide is important. But in all of our analyses, we control for that, and rurality still matters — it matters over and above that.
A coalition that is more urban and a coalition that is more rural, and the rural coalition being particularly more culturally conservative, more religious, more traditionalist — that’s a pretty common structure for political systems. We see this same divergence in many countries.
Does that imply there’s something that is, if not inevitable, then heavily predetermined here — given that it’s happening in different countries with different political parties who have passed different economic policies at different times?
Typically other countries have more parties than we do. And while the rural-urban divide has grown in lots of countries in the past few decades, it has grown most dramatically in the United States.
Here I’m turning to the work of Jonathan Rodden at Stanford — he’s done a lot of work on this. It has grown more quickly here during that time period.
I would also add that it’s more consequential in the United States because so many of our electoral institutions give extra political power to less populated places. If you think of the U.S. Senate, for example: Every state gets two senators regardless of population. So California has more than 60 times as many residents as Wyoming, but they both have two senators. And that gets replicated in all these other rural states.
That means that in the Senate, when it comes to policymaking, rural places have extra clout. It also means that in choosing the judiciary, in confirmations of judges, the rural-urban divide matters a lot. And of course, the Electoral College.
So right now, for the first time in our history, all of these advantages are consolidated in one party, and that hasn’t been the case before.
I very much buy the point that it is more consequential here because of the somewhat distinctive place-based structure of our political system. But I want to hold on this question of what the commonality across countries might teach us, or might not teach us.
I think a lot of Democrats believe something very similar to what Barack Obama said in the infamous “bitter clinger” comments. If you wipe the argument he made or some of the more condescending language that was in it — I think, very much to his regret — what he says is something like this: Rural America — and rural places — in a much more globalized, digitized, knowledge-based economy, are seeing their economies weaken. That is true across countries.
And the people who stay there — they stay there for a number of different reasons: They want to be where they grew up. They are more traditionalist. And as both the people who can leave and want to leave do, and as the people who can stay and want to stay, you have less and less economic dynamism, and you have more identification with the way things used to be, with a better time from before.
That goes alongside more religiosity. It goes alongside more traditional ways of life, like hunting. And it comes with a resentment of the urban elites who you feel are doing this to you and who don’t respect your way of life.
I’m not saying this is true, but I’m presenting it as a thing I think Democrats believe is true.
Right. So there are a lot of stereotypes there. I grew up in a rural place, and I still spend a lot of time in rural places. I think if a lot of rural Americans heard this, they would really want to push back and say: No, we’re not part of some entirely different sect of people over here.
There are lots and lots of rural Americans who do identify as Democrats. It tends to be about one-third on average now in presidential elections. And there are many other Americans in rural places whose ideas are in flux just like those elsewhere.
You’re sort of suggesting there’s a political sorting going on —
Yes.
That the people who move away have these different policy attitudes —
I’ve heard it phrased as psychological attitudes — people with more openness to experience, people who want to compete in the urban job markets. That there is a sorting happening.
Now there are other scholars than ourselves who’ve looked at this very carefully, and they find that’s not driving rural people to move to urban places. And that in fact, when people change their party, it tends to be after they’ve made a move. It’s not pulling them to urban places. So I don’t think that holds up.
You’ve been talking a bit about the rise of grievance politics and resentment. I think there’s something upstream of that — which you talk about a bit in the book. It’s affinity.
I just don’t think there’s a way to get around this: I’ve been covering politics, and particularly Democratic politics, since the early 2000s. The Democratic Party is an urban coalition. And it does, in many ways, feel distant from rural America.
I remember, in the George W. Bush years, all the talk about losing touch with the heartland. That Democrats were the party of John Kerry and coastal liberals, and Republicans were the party of the heartland. Democrats losing touch on “God, guns and gays” was the way it used to be talked about.
It seems, for reasons that aren’t primarily policy, but might have to do with religiosity and other things, there developed more affinity.
I mean, there are elites in both parties. And the elites in both parties are educated, and the elites in both parties are rich. And often the elites in both parties come from or live in cities.
And yet the elites in the Democratic Party much more identify with urban America than the elites in the Republican Party — even when the elites in the Republican Party, like Donald Trump, live in New York City. [Chuckles.] And that affinity feels very important in terms of everything that comes after.
Yes. You’re really explaining the second dynamic that we identify: This sense that rural people have of elite overreach coming from the Democrats and that Democrats don’t understand them. I think that’s a real thing, and I agree with you.
What I would say for the Democratic Party is that, unless it can overcome that, it’s going to be a minority party. It’s not going to win back the Senate again until it can overcome the rural-urban divide. It’s going to have a very challenging time getting a very big margin in the House. It’s going to be challenged in presidential elections and in many state-level elections. And that’s problematic for the country.
It means that also for rural people, they’re subjected to one-party government in so many places. If the Democratic Party just decides to throw up their hands, that they’re not going to go organize in rural places — which is what has been happening — it’s really problematic for democracy at so many levels.
The way your book is structured, you sort of say: There’s this economic divergence, and then layered on top of that very quickly is what you call elite overreach. That’s what we’re talking about here.
The way you describe it is: “It was not any one issue that tipped the scales but rather the persistent commonality that ran across them. From 2008 onward, rural Americans perceived an urban elite that sought to impose itself on far-flung places, controlling residents’ lives through new rules and procedures, in which they felt they had little voice.”
And you argue that the issue here is not the policy but the sense of respect or disrespect, of listening or not listening, of representation or absence of representation — that there was something sort of beneath policy that drove this.
Tell me about that sense of: We are being ruled from afar.
Yes, that’s right. We illustrate it in the book through a couple of different policy areas, and one is renewable energy — which, actually, you might find interesting because of the ideas that you explore in “Abundance.”
There’s fascinating literature. Scholars have looked at many different parts of the country, and when wind and solar comes into rural places, which is of course where the land is and where you need to develop that, it so often happens without rural communities having a chance to have a voice.
So there will be a big developer that comes in — a company that cuts a deal with a big landowner — and all of this happens and agreements are made before the local community hears about it. And then people are upset.
What scholars have found — who study very carefully public opinion on environmental issues — and we do, as well — is that there’s not a big difference between rural and urban Americans and their view on environmental issues. In fact, a lot of rural people care very deeply about the environment because the land is so important to them. And yet they feel that the process is really problematic.
There’s one study that was about wind farms in Indiana, and a person they quoted said: It’s not that I’m against wind energy. I’m against how it was done here.
I found this raised a lot of skepticism for me.
First: “I’m not against X” — where “X” is clean energy, affordable housing, mass transit — “I’m just against how it was done here” is, I feel, the most common structure of “I’m against X.”
But in “Abundance,” I spent a lot of time talking about and researching and reporting on how clean energy projects in particular are sited in different parts of the country. And what I can say for sure is that red states site all kinds of different forms of energy much more easily than blue states do because they have much less complex and deliberative procedures for siting them. If you want to build a wind farm in rural Texas, it is just much easier than building it in rural California or rural New York.
And yet rural Americans are not turning against the government of Texas for the lack of deliberative, consultative and veto-oriented siting.
So something about that felt off to me. I would think that would then lead to much more anger in red states, where it is much easier to just plow through a new development than it is in blue states, which have much more veto-oriented structures.
It’s very interesting that it has been easier for Republican governors to roll out these policies. I would love to look under the hood and find out the dynamics that are happening there, but we don’t do that in our book.
What I would say is that it’s problematic to have people in cities who accuse rural people of NIMBYism, when renewable energy is needed, particularly, by urban people. And so this can be a really extractive kind of industry that is just one more thing where rural people are taken advantage of and where their needs are not taken into account.
I’m getting at something even a little bit larger here than clean energy. One thing that your book seems to accept and even talk about is that the attribution of blame for policy is very, very muddy, and it relies a lot on how people get their information and whether they get their information.
You talk about a particular study where Republican policies close rural hospitals, and people are mad. And the Republican vote share goes up in the next election because people blame the party they already don’t like.
I could tell a story where people don’t like the renewable energy coming in. And even though it’s coming in more aggressively in red states because of their procedures, nobody knows that much about siting rules, so they’re still blaming the party they see as connected to renewable energy.
But there’s something here about how many of the policies that you describe as particularly painful or destructive or irritating to rural America are not promulgated by Democrats, but Democrats get blamed anyway.
Yes. That’s true. Politics is full of paradoxes.
What’s going on there, and we argue, is that there’s another component of our explanation, and that is the organizational component.
So the question is: Who is on the ground in a place connecting the dots for voters? Saying to them: Here’s what’s happening in public policy, and here’s how it matters for our community. Here’s the party that is best representing your interests and values — doing that connecting the dots.
Political parties need to do this for people. And in rural places, the Democratic Party has become very weak, so it’s much harder for them to really be there making the case. And the Republican Party, for the same kinds of reasons that all civic organizations have suffered over time, has had challenging times, as well. And yet it has been helped by other organizations that are prevalent in rural places.
We find that evangelical churches occur on a greater per capita basis in rural places. So do gun groups affiliated with the National Rifle Association. And those groups have been playing a supportive role to the Republican Party in helping to connect the dots for voters and to get out the vote essentially.
Democrats used to be aided by labor unions in rural places, and that has really been decimated very much with deindustrialization.
I want to actually spend a moment on the media side of this. I’ve talked to Democratic politicians — Barack Obama said this to me once — who say that they felt able to run in rural areas in 2000 or 2008 or 1996. But, depending on the place we’re talking about, as talk radio and Rush Limbaugh took hold, then later as Fox News rolled out — and now we have social media and all these other hyperpartisan and hyperpolarized forms of information — they don’t even feel they can get a hearing. Because the people who are interested in politics, what they are hearing is so angry at Democrats and so polarized, that there’s no way to get around it.
I have no doubt that the media matters. We do all this quantitative analysis, and we were limited to the things where we had data for all counties over these many decades. And we didn’t have a way to measure the rise of talk radio, Rush Limbaugh — and where are people listening to it? — and Fox News and the loss of local newspapers and all of these important changes in the media. I’m sure they’re important.
But this is where Democratic Party organizing is so needed and crucial. I remember a county chair in southern Ohio saying: Look, there’s no one here shouting from the rooftops back against Fox News: “They’re lying to you.”
So whether it’s the media or organizations, that’s the problem: In rural places, people aren’t hearing another message very strongly.
Political scientists use this slightly strange tool called the feeling thermometer, where they ask people to rate other groups on a 1-to-100 scale.
You have this data for white rural America, and on a scale of 1 to 100, they put Black Americans at a 70 — pretty good; Hispanic Americans at 67; gay men at 57; illegal immigrants at 39 — pretty low; and Democrats at 14 points.
So Democrats are rated at less than half illegal immigrants’ rating.
By the way, this is not just rural America — white urban Democrats put Republicans at 17 points. But the hatred is much more concentrated at the political outgroup, at least in these measures, than at any other group.
Exactly. The way we sum this up, if you think of what I was saying earlier about public policy issues and how we don’t differ very much: Rural and urban Americans on these issues barely disagree, but we are bitterly divided. And the divide is over partisanship.
In other words: It doesn’t have to be this way. It’s teamsmanship, it’s tribalism, but it’s not based in really different views about issues.
But it does create these self-reinforcing dynamics. It creates anger. The soft version is maybe Barack Obama’s “bitter clingers” comment. The harder version is Hillary Clinton’s “deplorables” comment.
I remember this so strongly from the Bush era, and I see it now: When Republicans are in power, urban liberals do feel threatened, do feel like that power is being deployed against them, do feel very angry at what is being done. And then it creates political strategy. Because parties work with limited resources. They have to choose where to put their energy and their attention.
In 2016, Chuck Schumer famously said: “For every blue-collar Democrat we will lose in western Pennsylvania, we will pick up two, three moderate Republicans in the suburbs of Philadelphia. And you can repeat that in Ohio and Illinois and Wisconsin.”
Now whether you can repeat that is, I guess, a reasonable question to ask. But you do see the Democratic Party begin to say to itself: We’ve lost rural America. Throwing good money after bad there is not worth doing. Let’s try to pick up the suburbs.
How do you think about that, both as a matter of short-term and long-term political strategy?
It’s a losing strategy. Given what I was saying earlier about the electoral institutions in the United States, a party has to be able to win less populated places if it wants to have national power. F.D.R. really understood this, and contemporary politicians don’t.
It’s not the same to pick up those suburban voters. You need to be picking up rural voters. So it’s crucial to build that bridge. Because otherwise, you’re not going to win the Senate. The Electoral College is an uphill battle. And when it comes to House districts, we might think: Oh, well that’s not so much an issue.
Well, it is. Because Democratic votes are wasted, in effect, because they’re consolidated in densely populated places. Republican voters tend to be much more evenly distributed across the landscape. So it’s much easier for Republicans to draw districts that favor them than for Democrats to do so.
It would be good if you could do that, but the question — I don’t want to put any words in Chuck Schumer’s mouth — that I would hear from Democrats is: Can you?
One thing you have in the book is quite a few Democrats who used to win rural areas saying: I couldn’t win that today.
Bob Kerrey, who was a very successful politician in Nebraska, runs again in Nebraska later on. Loses easily.
Bill Clinton says — now quite a long time ago: I don’t know that I could win in Arkansas anymore.
There is a pretty small handful of Democrats — Jared Golden in Maine, Marie Gluesenkamp Perez in Washington — who now run in and win pretty rural areas.
So while you’re right, of course — given the structure of the American political system — that it would be better if you could have a mixed geographic coalition, is it actually possible? Or do you just have to work from a place of futility?
No, it’s not futile. But what it takes is a long-term strategy of deep, full-time, year-round organizing and listening to rural Americans.
Parties like to put a focus on messaging. Messaging is very surface level, and it does not have enduring effects. But organizing really matters.
An illustration of this: We were talking earlier about Congress, and the basic pattern from 1994 to the present is that rural places have elected Republicans, but in the middle of that time, things went in a different way. That was when Howard Dean became the head of the Democratic National Committee, 2005 through 2008.
His strategy was to work hard in all 50 states and particularly to organize in rural counties. Some of the county party chairs whom I interviewed still remember how well organized they were at that time. And then Barack Obama comes along and uses similar kinds of organizing strategies, and it really makes a difference.
So in 2006, Democrats take back Congress. Then in 2008, Barack Obama wins. And he does very well in rural places.
So with that kind of organizing, you can turn things around. But if you’re just going to rely on messaging, it’s not going to happen.
So then how do you tell the story of what happens after 2008?
I respect Howard Dean’s 50-state strategy, and I don’t think the Democratic Party did great organizing in the coming years. But there is a collapse in Democratic support after Barack Obama becomes president that I don’t think is explicable by organizing. It is a genuine collapse — 2010 is a wipeout for Democrats in much of rural America.
And a lot of Democrats I know say that it’s that Barack Obama was Black. That is their basic view of what happened.
I don’t think it’s your view of what happened. But what is your view of what happened?
Let me speak about both things, about: Was it because Barack Obama was Black? And then also: What happened?
A lot of people think the rural-urban divide is reducible to racism. We find that when it started in the 1990s, that was not the case. There was plenty of racism in the country among non-Hispanic whites, but it was as prevalent among urban Americans as among rural Americans.
Then you get to the period 2008 to 2020. At that point we find that there is a slightly greater concentration of racist attitudes among rural Americans than urban. It’s one factor among several that was driving the divide at that point.
The way we understand it is part of the resentment of the Democratic Party. Because rural people feel: These Democratic leaders are really working hard on behalf of urban communities, people of color and immigrants — but they don’t really understand us. It’s a factor, but it’s not a sole cause.
What is really important is that then, after you had all that organizing energy that gets mobilized in the period from 2005 to 2008, Barack Obama gets elected. And there are a lot of rural people who’ve worked hard in the campaign. They’re really excited, and they want to do more.
Then what happens is, basically, the ball is dropped by the Democratic Party, and it becomes just a mailing list of the D.N.C. And it all goes into the ether.
Meanwhile, the Tea Party mobilizes among the Republicans, and they claim the day. But it didn’t have to be this way. It was not inevitable.
I want to focus on the first point you made there. There’s a quite big but also somewhat subtle distinction between anti-Black attitudes causing the anger — and the sense that the Democratic Party is prioritizing other groups over your causing the anger.
White rural America’s sense that the Democratic Party sees all these other groups as in need of help and respect and is prioritizing them ahead of them — Arlie Hochschild’s idea about other groups getting to cut in line. And then there’s a real rise of discourse around white privilege. And this creates — we’ve seen this in our politics — a lot of anger.
Like: You’re telling me — in a poor community that has very few jobs now, where life expectancy is going down — that I have white privilege, and your urban coalition is what needs the help? Or that illegal immigrants need the help?
I’d like you to talk a bit about that distinction between the divide being discriminatory, and the divide being a feeling: That coalition doesn’t prioritize me, so I’m going to go with a coalition that does.
It’s a really important issue in that I think a lot of urban Democrats assume that what’s at play in this rural-urban divide is that rural white people are racist. What we find is that it’s not reducible to that.
The way we understand it is that it’s in this same period that there’s the sense of elite overreach on the part of Democrats, where rural Americans are looking at the Democratic Party and thinking: They don’t understand us. They don’t care about our communities.
And on this, they’re viewing the Democratic Party as really prioritizing the needs of people of color in urban communities and immigrants — but not really understanding or caring about rural people who are struggling, as well.
So into this moment of divide steps, of all people, Donald Trump — who is, I would say, more associated with New York City than any human being alive, is almost himself an emblem of New York City. How does he become this vehicle for the channeling of rural rage?
Well, I think about this Republican county chair that we interviewed in southern Ohio. The area had voted for Bill Clinton twice and for Democrats for Congress.
But then the economy really goes downhill with the loss of all these jobs, the closing of all these plants. And he said: People got tired of government. And then he said: Along comes Donald Trump. And yes, he’s rich, and he’s done all these things, but he got people really excited here.
And he said: Why are you kowtowing down to these elites? They’re not like you — this is Trump referring to Democrats.
And of course, it’s ironic because, as you’re saying, Trump himself is an elite, he’s urban, etc. But people felt that there was an affinity, that Trump was hearing them, that they had been left behind, that they hadn’t been listened to. And so he was channeling that grievance and resentment.
Trump hates all the right people.
[Soft chuckle.] That’s a way of putting it.
But that’s a powerful force in politics. We were talking earlier about elites, and one of the things I was saying was that both parties have elites.
Hillary Clinton, who runs against Donald Trump in 2016, her political background is in Arkansas. She was first lady of Arkansas and has a lot of experience alongside her husband in a state with much more rural concerns than being a real estate developer in New York City and a guy who builds golf courses.
But Trump in his campaign just hates the urban elites in the cities. And that is a stronger building of affinity, it seems to me, than more traditional identity.
I think if Bill Clinton had run against Donald Trump in 2016, Bill Clinton, with all of his skill as a politician weaving together concerns of rural and urban residents, I don’t think there’s any doubt Donald Trump would have beat him in rural America. Whether he would have beat him, I don’t know, but I think he would have beat him in rural America. Because Bill Clinton, by that point, no longer hated — never did, in fact, hate — the right people.
That raises some really difficult questions for what builds or degrades affinity when you’re trying to rebuild these relationships. I think Democrats want to believe they can do it all through positive-sum policy: Obamacare can help rural hospitals and the Inflation Reduction Act and the bipartisan infrastructure bill can try to do rural broadband and site factories in rural America.
And it seems to me that, as long as there is no preexisting sense of affinity, it’s all going to fall flat politically.
Well, Donald Trump has been masterful at reinforcing and widening the divide that was already growing, creating this us-versus-them politics and demonizing people on the other side. That makes it harder and harder to build affinity — and yet it’s the only hope.
Most of my scholarship until a few years ago was all about public policy and what policy can do. But I think we’re at a point now where these divides are so great that policy can’t do it all by itself.
Of course, rural places really need policies in all sorts of ways to help with the economy and with health care and education, etc. But it’s really crucial to find ways to bridge the divide. That’s where deep, long-term organizing is so important.
Is there a way right now with Trump in which you are seeing the rise of the most dangerous possible version of this divide? Which is to say: not a divide on policy, not different votes, but a move toward violence?
I’ve heard a lot of people who study civil wars say it is a bad sign when the federal government is ordering armed troops from some states into other states over the objections of those states’ governors and — these are all cities they’re ordering them into — those cities’ mayors.
And you can look at this, and I think I have been looking at this, and say: This sure looks like a rural coalition militarily occupying the cities it has come to see as the power centers of their enemies.
Well, it’s unthinkable. It’s so un-American to be telling the military you can use cities as training grounds and to be sending in federal troops and federalized National Guard into cities. And this comes on top of Trump, for the past few years, using a lot of rhetoric against cities — but now using actual violent force against cities.
So how is this possible? It’s possible because of the rural-urban divide. It’s possible because this us-versus-them politics has become so deep.
Your last book was about threats to democracy and authoritarianism. Do you, as a political scientist, think we are coming a lot closer to something that could spiral into civil war or something like it?
Well, that’s a really horrifying, harrowing thought, obviously. But my colleagues who are scholars of comparative politics, who study democratic deterioration around the world, have been very worried because they see the things happening here that have happened elsewhere and led to such demise.
My focus, as someone who is always hopeful about the future, is: How do we avoid that? And it’s going to take a lot of deep rebuilding and organizing.
Let’s talk about how we avoid that or begin to reverse some of the urban-rural split. Let’s take as a premise that what you say is right — that it would be good if the Democratic Party invested much more in organizing and contesting in rural areas.
I was surprised, as I read the end of the book, that you did not have more to say about who the Democratic Party runs, particularly nationally, and what they run on.
I would assume it is going to be easier for an organizer in much of rural America if it’s Andy Beshear on top of the ticket than if it’s Gavin Newsom or Kamala Harris. That it was in some ways easier when the Democratic Party was led by Harry Reid and Tom Daschle in the Senate, than now, where both the House and Senate leaders are from New York.
The political scientist Steven Teles likes to talk about costly signals — the sending of costly signals — things where you’re doing something that shows you’re a different kind of Democrat or Republican than others.
Donald Trump sends lots of costly signals. He attacks urban America and urban elites in personal, vicious, vitriolic terms. He talks about sending the National Guard into their cities — he’s talked about that for a long time. And he takes the conflict — because it communicates to the people he wants to communicate to that he’s on their side.
Yes.
If the Democratic Party really wanted to do this — if it said, we have to figure something out here, and that requires doing things that are different from what we have been doing — what can it do?
So at the moment, Trump has done very well getting elected in rural places by bigger and bigger margins, right? Fueled by grievance.
But grievance ultimately does not put food on the table. It doesn’t bring you health care — affordable health care — in your community, and it doesn’t help your kids to get a good education.
Democrats need to be in rural places to say: These issues are the priorities of our party — to help with the economy, health care, education, etc. — and to be there to make those connections for people.
If they’re not there — if they’re not campaigning there, if statewide Democrats are not going to rural places to campaign, if the party is not putting full-time organizers in rural places — then people feel abandoned there, and they feel this party doesn’t care about us.
I guess one place where I was skeptical of your book’s insistence that policy wasn’t a big contributor here was that most of the modern Democratic politicians you talked about who had been successful in rural America were known not just for their moderation but for often running against the Democratic Party.
Joe Manchin, in his first Senate campaign, shoots the cap-and-trade bill Democrats are considering with a gun to show what a different kind of Democrat he is. Ben Nelson in Nebraska, who was such a thorn in the side of the Democrats during Obamacare — the same with Congressman Stupak; Bob Kerrey, who was often very annoying to the Democratic Party when he was a representative from Nebraska; John Bel Edwards, who was the governor of Louisiana until pretty recently — a Democrat and very, very, very pro-life.
It looked to me — and it looks to me — like the Democrats who have done well in rural areas actually do differ from other Democrats on policy.
Jared Golden is a supporter of tariffs. Marie Gluesenkamp Perez has a very different kind of politics and policy than her colleagues.
I don’t know if what is happening here is that shifting on policy is a way of communicating you’re not like the other Democrat — or if it is actually the policy itself that matters. But it felt like a tension to me in your book that on the one hand, the Democratic politicians who have succeeded in rural America — and still succeed — look very different on policy than the Democrats in urban America.
And on the other hand, there’s a real push at: They don’t need to do anything on policy. They just need more organizers.
I would say, looking at the members of Congress, for whom we took a deep dive, and the Affordable Care Act — to look at all of these rural members, many of whom were swing votes on the Affordable Care Act. Most of the rural Democrats ultimately voted for it, and some ultimately voted against it.
Some of them were very progressive on economic issues, and they were trying very hard to be faithful to their communities in that. Some of them, as you say, were pro-life and not pro-choice, so they had concerns until there was a deal cut on how the A.C.A. would handle abortion.
But I would say that while incorporating rural districts and states may mean more moderates, it doesn’t necessarily mean that. Because in some rural places, a politician will represent them in a way that’s more progressive and that’s being true to their constituents.
Have we seen any of that in modern times? I mean, I would like that to be true. It would be, from my perspective, better if you could just go full economic populist — and moderate on nothing else — and win. My leftist friends tell me that’s true. I just don’t see the representatives.
Even somebody like Dan Osborn in Nebraska, who runs not as a Democrat — because the Democratic Party is just too toxic to run on in Nebraska. He is economically populist, and he also says: I will build the wall on the border with my own hands. He swings very far right from where Democrats are at that moment on immigration.
I just don’t see the examples of these Democrats, or even independents, winning back rural areas without running against some parts of the Democratic Party’s platform from the right.
And I’m not saying this because I would like to see more Democrats move to the right, but I think that seems to be what has worked.
I think it’s less moderating on issues than what issues you prioritize. The political party county chairs that we had spoken to told us that the issues that were most important to people are the economy, health care, education, etc. They were not mentioning gun rights and abortion and immigration as top issues.
So it’s a matter of the level of priority that you give those. But also different kinds of stances in different places could work.
I guess that raises the question: What happened to all those Democratic representatives who did run in exactly that way? I have watched some of the Democratic politicians who were doing that just not be able to survive.
Sherrod Brown is a very effective economic populist. And despite how much he has emphasized that set of issues for his entire career, he has gone from being extremely competitive in Ohio’s rural districts to completely destroyed in them when he was running against a car dealer who had to settle a bunch of wage-theft lawsuits. The same is true for Jon Tester in Montana. Tester was, again, a very, very capable bread-and-butter pocketbook issues politician.
Something has happened where the politicians who are doing the strategy to a T cannot survive — Montana and Ohio are far from the reddest states we have in the union.
It just seems to me that we are seeing that the drag of the national Democratic Party is making the “just talk about the popular stuff” strategy no longer viable — when maybe 10 years ago or 12 years ago, it still was.
What I’ve been describing is this historical process over several decades of how the rural-urban divide emerged. It’s now very deep, and the causes for it are multilayered and entrenched. So you can’t just overcome it with a particular race. There has to be this deep, long-term effort to rebuild bridges to rural America by the Democratic Party being there.
When we spoke with Democratic county chairs in all of these different states, they would say to us that they didn’t feel supported by their state-level party. They didn’t think the D.N.C. even knew about them.
These are local organizations. In the past, there were lots of people who would come out for meetings. Now it’s a handful of people, and they’re senior citizens, and they need support. But they did feel that when Howard Dean was the head of the D.N.C., they were getting that kind of support, and they were able to make a real difference. So that’s what’s essential.
It’s also the case that, while it can seem really daunting, in a statewide election giving some support to rural areas can make a big difference. If you use the strategy of losing by less, which is something they all talk about: There were county chairs, like when we went around Georgia, and they had had these very tight races statewide, Senate races, where senators Ossoff and Warnock got elected.
And the Democratic county chairs would say: If I can get my margin here to not be just 34 percent but get it up to 37 percent for the Democratic candidate, and if everybody does that in rural areas, we’re going to win statewide. And they did it. They felt very proud of it. They felt they had made a big difference in getting those candidates over the finish line in those very tight races.
That’s exactly the kind of thing that can make a huge difference in statewide races — for president and for governorships and for senators all across the country.
We’ll end it there. Always our final question: What are three books you would recommend to the audience?
Oh, yes, I love this question.
So I want to recommend, first, another book about rural America by a political scientist, and that’s Katherine Cramer’s book “The Politics of Resentment: Rural Consciousness in Wisconsin and the Rise of Scott Walker.” This book came out several years ago, in 2016.
It’s based on years of her going to all sorts of conversation groups around rural Wisconsin and really listening to people and understanding how they were thinking about politics in the state. It’s deeply insightful, and we really built upon her work.
For my other choices — I decided we shouldn’t just be reading nonfiction in this time. I feel strongly about that. So my second choice is going to be a novel: Barbara Kingsolver’s book, “Demon Copperhead.” Barbara Kingsolver grew up in rural Kentucky. She writes this book that’s really based in Appalachia and, I think, just really helps people to understand much more the nuance and complexity of what’s going on in one place in rural America.
And then finally: When I was a young person, I loved poetry a lot. And this year I decided I need more poetry back in my life. So I have been reading Mary Oliver’s book “Devotions,” which is a collection of a lot of her best work. She grew up in rural Ohio, and then she lived a lot of her life on Cape Cod. It’s about the beauty of natural places, and it’s also a great tribute to rural America.
Suzanne Mettler, thank you very much.
Great to be with you. Thank you.
You can listen to this conversation by following “The Ezra Klein Show” on the NYT App, Apple, Spotify, Amazon Music, YouTube, iHeartRadio or wherever you get your podcasts. View a list of book recommendations from our guests here.
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Ezra Klein joined Opinion in 2021. Previously, he was the founder, editor in chief and then editor at large of Vox; the host of the podcast “The Ezra Klein Show”; and the author of “Why We’re Polarized.” Before that, he was a columnist and editor at The Washington Post, where he founded and led the Wonkblog vertical. He is on Threads.
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