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Miriam R Rieck's avatar

long dive into your essay-which btw THANK you for researching and writing--

I’m going to start by saying I am not, and have never been, a conspiracy doomsday person. But from a very early age, this goes back 60 years now, my father believed that living on land, families living together and sharing resources, was the only real way to establish independence from the system, to not have to worry about food or housing security. That was something I knew as a child. It was real until I was in high school. We were survivors of extreme poverty and dependence on the very systems that are being dismantled.

Looking at what is currently unfolding, Project 2025, nations unwilling to fully acknowledge women’s rights, the quiet normalization of human rights violations, the ongoing reality of trafficking networks like Epstein’s operating with little real accountability, and the continued concentration of wealth in the top 10%, I cannot ignore the pattern. People keep calling this the new Gilded Age, and when I read history, when I look at how societies stabilize after collapse or overreach, the answer that keeps surfacing is not more complexity. It is a return. Pre 1945 living. Small, rural, relational systems where food and housing security are rooted in land and community.

This is where my concern sharpens. We can talk about policy, land use, urban planning, global frameworks, federal funding cuts. All of that matters. But none of it exists in a vacuum. It lands inside a population that is no longer equipped in the way it once was. Not intelligence in the raw sense, but the ability to read deeply, think critically, hold nuance, and track long term consequences. We are more informed than any generation before us, and at the same time less able to metabolize what we are taking in. When a population is overwhelmed, fragmented, and operating primarily in reaction, it does not engage policy at the level it is being written. It engages at the level of emotion, identity, and immediate survival. And in that state, systems, whether intentionally or not, move forward largely unchallenged.

So when I read this argument about rural Vermont, I do not just see a question of land restriction or development funnels. I see a much older pattern re emerging. When wealth concentrates, when systems become more complex, when the cost of living rises beyond what ordinary people can comfortably hold, the response historically has not been an expansion of independence. It has been a contraction into dependence. That is the part we do not like to name. Because independence, real independence, requires capacity. It requires knowledge, skill, relationship. The ability to grow food, to repair, to collaborate locally, to think beyond the immediate moment. And most of us, if we are honest, have been slowly separated from those capacities over generations.

When I see policies that make rural life more difficult, I read them in context. They are landing inside a population that is already less able to sustain that way of life. And when you combine those two things, the outcome becomes predictable. People move toward where life is easier to access, toward cities, where infrastructure exists, where services exist, where food is purchased, not grown, and where dependency increases, not because people want it, but because it becomes the most viable option available. Once populations concentrate, they are easier to manage, structurally, logistically, economically. It is simply easier to organize, regulate, and sustain dense populations than dispersed, self sufficient ones. That is not conspiracy. That is a function of scale.

But it does raise a harder question. If the direction of our systems continues to favor centralization, and the capacity of the population continues to weaken in terms of independence and critical thought, then what happens to the possibility of living outside that system? Historically, rural communities have been where alternative ways of living could still exist, where food could still be grown, where relationships carried more weight than institutions, where autonomy was still possible. If those spaces become increasingly difficult to access or sustain, then we are not just talking about land use. We are talking about the narrowing of viable ways to live.

And that is where this conversation needs to go deeper, into a real examination of capacity. What does it take now to live independently? How many people still have those skills? How many communities still have those relationships intact? Because if there is a path forward, it is not going to come from large systems reversing themselves. It is going to come from smaller systems being quietly re-established, through food, skill, trust, and relationship. A return.

If I am being honest, I do not think the general population is ready for that shift- I think convenience, entitlement and sheer laziness keep most of the population from even contemplating a return to relational collaborative communities. Which means those who see it coming need to start anyway, in neighborhoods, in backyards, in small, local ways before it becomes regulated out of reach or priced out of possibility. Because once these systems are in place, once people remember how to feed themselves and how to rely on each other, they are much harder to dismantle. Not impossible, but harder.

If rural communities are going to remain viable, then they cannot remain passive. They will need to unite, to push back where necessary, to protect the land and the right to live on it.

Because real independence has never lived inside large systems. It has always lived at the local level.

JMHO

Scott MacInnis's avatar

Democrat doom loop. Get everyone in to a 15 minute city

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