HE WASHINGTON UNION PAPERS: NO. 24

WHY AMERICA’S RURAL ECONOMY MATTERS

To the People of the United States,

A nation that forgets its roots is a nation destined to wither. It is a nation that has severed itself from the very foundation that made it strong, from the soil that has nourished it, from the hands that have built it. No empire, no republic, no civilization has endured after abandoning the land and the people who sustain it. And yet, America, in its reckless pursuit of unchecked growth, in its obsession with metropolitan expansion and global finance, has allowed its rural heartland to erode, as if the economic engine of the nation could run indefinitely without the bedrock upon which it was built. We have convinced ourselves that industry alone sustains us, that cities alone define us, that progress can be measured solely in the steel of skyscrapers and the speed of digital transactions. But a nation that cannot feed itself, that cannot mine its own resources, that cannot support the workers and communities who have toiled for generations to keep it strong, is a nation standing on borrowed time.

For too long, America’s rural economy has been treated as an afterthought, as though its prosperity is incidental rather than essential. The power brokers in Washington and New York chart the course of the nation without so much as a glance at the towns left to decay in their wake. They speak of innovation and economic expansion while rural hospitals close, while family farms collapse under the weight of monopolistic agribusiness, while small manufacturing towns that once supplied the nation are now riddled with empty storefronts and fading hope. They celebrate the limitless potential of artificial intelligence and automation while failing to provide broadband access to rural schools. They speak of economic mobility while ignoring the fact that without infrastructure, without investment, without a renewed commitment to these forgotten places, there is no mobility—only stagnation.

The great cities of this nation may be the engines of commerce, but they cannot function without the lifeblood of the land that feeds them, the industries that supply them, the workers who sustain them. It is the fields, the farms, the small towns, and the open landscapes that supply them. It is the rural backbone of America that grows the food, mines the minerals, harvests the timber, and produces the raw materials that make modern life possible. It is the unyielding spirit of those who wake before dawn to till the soil, who endure long days in factories and fields, who keep this country running even as they are ignored, overlooked, and left behind. To believe that America can thrive while allowing these communities to wither is a dangerous illusion. No nation survives when it allows its foundation to crumble beneath its feet.

And yet, these communities have been left behind—cast aside by policymakers who cater to Wall Street while Main Street crumbles, abandoned by corporations that chase profits overseas while family farms disappear, ignored by those who fail to recognize that without a thriving rural economy, the entire nation is at risk. It is not just an economic betrayal—it is a moral failure, a dereliction of duty by those who swore to uphold the interests of all Americans, not just those who live in urban centers of power. They have turned a blind eye to the decay of small towns, to the rising suicide rates among farmers crushed by debt, to the schools that close because funding flows elsewhere, to the hospitals that disappear because serving rural patients is not "cost-effective." They have ignored the very people who built this nation, who worked its land, who fueled its industries, who sent their sons and daughters to fight and die for its freedom.

We have allowed globalization to dictate the death of rural economies, treating small-town America as though it is an unfortunate casualty of progress rather than an integral part of the nation’s strength. We have let consolidation destroy family farms, permitted monopolies to strip away the autonomy of rural industries, accepted the lie that it is simply too difficult, too expensive, too impractical to invest in these communities. But what is truly impractical is believing that a nation can remain strong when half of it is abandoned. What is truly expensive is the long-term cost of ignoring the economic heart of the country, of allowing dependency on foreign nations to replace what we could produce ourselves. What is truly difficult is reckoning with the truth that we have forsaken those who carried America through its most challenging moments, who fed it through war, who built it through industry, who have continued to work without recognition, without support, without the investment they deserve.

A nation that cannot support its rural economy is a nation that has lost sight of its own survival. It is a nation that has chosen to forget the hands that feed it, the industries that sustain it, the people who have held it together even as they have been neglected. If we do not act, if we do not reinvest, if we do not prioritize the rebuilding of these communities, we will wake up one day to find that America is no longer capable of standing on its own.

And when that day comes, when the fields are empty, when the factories are silent, when the heartland is barren, those who turned their backs on rural America will realize too late that they were not just ignoring small towns and family farms—they were dismantling the very fabric of the nation itself.

America’s rural economy matters because it is the foundation upon which our prosperity rests. It is not an afterthought, not a nostalgic remnant of a bygone era, not an expendable sector that can be left to wither while policymakers and corporations chase the next big city boom. It is the backbone of this nation, the raw and undeniable force that has fed us, fueled us, built us into an empire of industry and innovation. And yet, for decades, we have treated it as if it were disposable, as if the strength of this country could endure while half of it rots from neglect. This is not just economic failure—it is a national betrayal.

To abandon rural America is to cut out the beating heart of the nation, to sever ourselves from the land that has sustained us, to cripple our ability to stand on our own. The cities may rise on skyscrapers and steel, but they do so only because the fields have yielded their harvest, the rivers have powered their industries, and the hands of rural workers have labored, often unseen, to keep the entire system running. It is the soil that grows the crops, the rivers that power our communities, the fields that sustain our livestock, the mills and factories that supply our goods. These are not relics. These are the irreplaceable arteries of a living economy, the lifelines that allow us to function as a sovereign, self-reliant nation.

Yet, we have allowed these communities to decay, to fall into neglect, to be discarded by a system that prioritizes efficiency over endurance, consolidation over competition, and Wall Street over the very people who make our existence possible. We have shuttered mills, let farmland be swallowed by corporate conglomerates, allowed rural hospitals to vanish, left roads and bridges to crumble, and drained the future from small towns until the only thing left is memory. This is not progress. This is slow-motion suicide. This is the deliberate dismantling of a nation’s ability to sustain itself, the calculated surrender of our economic independence in the name of short-term profit.

The collapse of rural America is not an accident. It is the result of policies designed by those who have never set foot in the places they are destroying. It is the outcome of trade agreements that opened the floodgates to foreign goods while American farms and factories were left defenseless. It is the consequence of a financial system that rewards speculation over production, corporate consolidation over local enterprise, and offshore manufacturing over domestic industry. It is the product of a government that has ignored the warning signs for decades, that has watched towns hollow out, watched industries collapse, watched entire generations leave in search of opportunity that should have been built in their own hometowns.

To allow these communities to decay is not just an economic failure—it is a moral one. It is the failure to recognize that a nation cannot stand strong when half of it is left to decline. It is the failure to understand that an economy is not just numbers on a stock ticker, but people, communities, lives. It is the failure to realize that food security, energy independence, industrial strength, and national resilience all begin with the land, with the workers who till it, mine it, build upon it. A country that abandons its rural heartland is a country that is forfeiting its own survival, weakening its foundation, ensuring that when the next crisis comes, it will be utterly unprepared to face it.

But let us be clear—this decline is not irreversible. The soil has not stopped yielding. The rivers have not stopped flowing. The hands that built this country have not forgotten how to work. Rural America does not need pity—it needs investment. It does not need handouts—it needs a government that values its existence. It does not need more hollow promises—it needs action, real policies that put production before profit, self-reliance before globalization, and American workers before foreign interests.

The future is not lost, but it must be reclaimed. The mills can run again. The factories can roar back to life. The farms can thrive without being devoured by corporate greed. But only if we make the choice—now, not later—to reverse the damage, to rebuild what was abandoned, to recognize that a strong America is an America that produces, that feeds itself, that does not outsource its very survival. Let history show that we did not let the backbone of this nation break, that we did not let rural America slip into obscurity. Let history record that we fought for the hands that feed us, that fuel us, that sustain us. And let it say that when the time came to choose between decay and renewal, between abandonment and revival, we did not hesitate—we built, we restored, and we made America whole again.

The myth that rural America is fading into irrelevance is a lie perpetuated by those who do not understand its importance. It is a narrative pushed by those who sit in corporate boardrooms, who see the land as something to be bought and sold rather than something to be nurtured and sustained. It is a lie told by those who profit from consolidation, from the destruction of independent farmers, from the erosion of local industry in favor of multinational control. But the truth is this: rural America is not a relic of history. It is not a forgotten chapter in the story of American progress. It is an essential part of our economic survival, our food security, and our national identity. And if we fail to invest in it, if we allow it to continue to shrink under the weight of neglect, we will pay the price—not just in lost jobs or shuttered businesses, but in a fractured, weakened nation that can no longer sustain itself.

For too long, policies have favored urban expansion while ignoring the very people who grow the food we eat, who harvest the resources we rely on, who produce the materials that fuel our industries. Trade deals have gutted rural manufacturing, corporate monopolies have strangled independent farmers, and technological advancements—rather than being wielded as tools of empowerment—have instead become instruments of displacement. Banks have abandoned rural communities, leaving small businesses to fend for themselves. Infrastructure investment has stalled, leaving roads in disrepair and broadband access nonexistent. Schools have closed, hospitals have shuttered, and opportunity has been siphoned away from small towns into the hands of the powerful. And yet, through it all, rural America has endured. Not because it has been given the support it deserves, but because its people have refused to give up. Because the farmers, the ranchers, the factory workers, the small-town entrepreneurs have refused to accept that they are expendable.

The truth is that America cannot thrive without a strong rural economy. A nation that imports its food, its energy, its raw materials is a nation that has forfeited its independence. A nation that allows its heartland to wither is a nation that has lost its soul. To revive our rural economy is not an act of charity—it is an act of national security. It is an investment in resilience, in food sovereignty, in self-reliance. It is a recognition that we cannot afford to be dependent on foreign nations for our most basic needs. It is a commitment to rebuilding the industries that once sustained small towns, to restoring the infrastructure that connects rural communities to the larger economy, to ensuring that prosperity is not confined to a handful of metropolitan hubs but is shared by all who call this nation home.

The time has come to break the cycle of neglect. The slow decay of rural America is not a tragic accident—it is a deliberate choice, the result of decades of disinvestment, exploitation, and betrayal by those who have long considered these communities expendable. It is the outcome of a system that has favored consolidation over competition, greed over fairness, and urban expansion over the very foundation upon which this country was built. It is the result of policymakers who see small towns not as engines of prosperity but as relics of the past, as though the future of this nation could ever be sustained without the land that feeds it, the industries that supply it, the workers who have held it together despite every effort to cast them aside.

The time has come to invest in rural America not as an afterthought, but as a priority. Not as an occasional campaign promise, not as a footnote in an economic report, but as the backbone of a national revival. A country that cannot support its own food producers, that cannot sustain its own small businesses, that cannot provide healthcare to those who keep its industries running, is a country that has lost its way. We cannot afford to allow family farms to be crushed under the weight of monopolistic agribusiness. We cannot afford to let small manufacturing towns be replaced by warehouses stocked with foreign goods. We cannot afford to let our supply chains be dictated by corporations that see no difference between American workers and cheap overseas labor. The moment has come to choose: will we continue to let rural America collapse, or will we finally give it the investment, the policies, and the protection it has long deserved?

We must ensure that farmers are paid fair prices for their crops, that they are not treated as commodities to be exploited by multinational giants who dictate the terms of their survival. We must put an end to an agricultural system that rewards the few while crushing the many, to a market where independent farmers are forced to compete against conglomerates that manipulate prices, control distribution, and rig the game in their own favor. A nation that cannot support its own farmers is a nation that has surrendered its ability to feed itself. And a nation that cannot feed itself is a nation in decline.

We must ensure that small businesses are given the same access to capital as corporate giants. We must end the absurdity of a financial system that throws billions at hedge funds while rural entrepreneurs struggle to secure even the most basic loans. We must break the grip of financial institutions that see small-town America as a risk, as an inconvenience, as something to be exploited rather than invested in. For decades, banks have abandoned rural communities, stripping them of credit, of opportunity, of the ability to grow on their own terms. And then we wonder why so many small towns are dying. The answer is simple: they have been starved, not by a lack of ambition, but by a system that refuses to recognize their worth.

We must ensure that rural hospitals are funded, that healthcare is not a privilege reserved for urban centers, that the very people who provide this nation with its most fundamental resources are not left to suffer from medical neglect. It is an outrage that in the wealthiest nation in the world, there are communities where expectant mothers must drive hours to reach a delivery room, where routine checkups are a luxury, where entire counties lack a single practicing physician. This is not just a failure of policy—it is a failure of morality. A government that cannot provide healthcare to those who sustain it is a government that has failed at its most basic function.

We must ensure that schools are not closed due to budget cuts, that rural students are not denied the same opportunities as their urban counterparts simply because of where they were born. We must stop pretending that education is a privilege of geography, that high-speed internet, advanced coursework, and modern facilities are only for those who live within the reach of city investments. We must stop allowing talent to be squandered, potential to be wasted, entire generations to be written off simply because they do not fit into the vision of a financial system that values profit over people.

We must ensure that infrastructure projects are not abandoned because they do not serve the interests of the wealthy. We must recognize that roads, bridges, railways, and broadband access are not luxuries for rural America—they are necessities. They are the arteries of commerce, the lifelines of entire communities, the difference between growth and decay. It is an act of willful negligence to allow these regions to crumble while pouring billions into urban redevelopment projects. It is an act of deliberate exclusion to leave rural communities disconnected while corporations profit from a digital economy that is inaccessible to those without broadband. This is not a matter of convenience—it is a matter of justice.

We must fight against the monopolies that seek to crush independent producers, against the financial institutions that see small-town America as unworthy of investment, against the policymakers who believe that only urban centers deserve attention and development. We must end the era of corporate dominance that has turned rural America into an extraction zone, where profits are siphoned away while communities are left with nothing. We must dismantle the systems that have allowed billionaires to amass wealth while workers lose everything, that have enabled corporations to dictate the terms of economic survival while entire towns struggle to keep the lights on.

Let it be known that when the moment came to decide the future of rural America, we did not stand idly by. Let it be written that we did not allow the communities that built this nation to be erased, that we did not allow our farmers, our small business owners, our workers to be sacrificed in the name of globalization and corporate greed. Let history remember that we chose to restore, to rebuild, to reinvest—not because it was easy, but because it was necessary. Because a nation that allows its foundation to crumble will one day find that it has nothing left to stand on.

The time for hesitation is over. The time for excuses has passed. The time to act is now. And when history looks back upon this moment, let it say that we did not let rural America disappear. Let it say that we did not abandon the people who have given everything to this country. Let it say that we fought, that we built, that we restored what was lost. And in doing so, we did not just save rural America—we saved the nation itself.

Let it be known that when the lifeblood of America was at risk of being drained, when the heartland was left gasping for air, we did not stand idle while the vultures of consolidation and globalization circled overhead. Let it be written that we did not allow the farms that feed us to be swallowed by monopolies, that we did not let the small towns that built this country be stripped of their dignity, that we did not surrender to the slow, deliberate erosion of our economic independence. Let it be recorded that we did not bow to the forces that sought to extract every last drop of value from rural America and leave it to rot in the dust.

Let it be remembered that we fought for the land that has sustained us, for the farmers whose hands have fed us, for the workers whose labor has built the bones of this nation. That we did not let Wall Street speculators turn our fields into spreadsheets, that we did not let foreign corporations dictate the fate of our industries, that we did not let bureaucrats in Washington sign away the sovereignty of our heartland with the stroke of a pen. Let it be known that when the moment came to decide whether rural America would thrive or wither, we did not hesitate—we chose to fight, we chose to build, we chose to restore what was rightfully ours.

We reinforced the backbone of this nation, not with words but with action. We rebuilt what was left in ruin by decades of neglect. We shattered the chains of monopolistic control that sought to turn independent farmers into mere laborers for conglomerates. We broke the cycle of economic despair that left small businesses shuttered and main streets abandoned. We invested, we empowered, we reclaimed. And in doing so, we did not just revive rural America—we redefined the meaning of national strength.

The time for action is not tomorrow, not next year, not in another decade—it is now. The time to reinvest, to rebuild, to restore is here, and we will not wait for permission to take back what was stolen. We will not stand by while the lifeline of this country is severed by those who see profit in destruction. We will not watch in silence while another family farm is crushed under the weight of corporate greed, while another rural hospital closes because the bottom line mattered more than human lives, while another factory is boarded up because our leaders failed to defend our industries.

And when history looks back on this moment, let it say that we did not let rural America be erased. Let it say that we refused to let those who have given everything to this country be cast aside as irrelevant. Let it say that we did not simply acknowledge the suffering of small towns and farming communities—we waged war against their decline. Let it say that we did not just write policy or give speeches—we took action, bold and decisive, to ensure that rural America was not only preserved but made stronger than it had ever been before.

Let it be written that in the face of collapse, we did not mourn—we rebuilt. Let it be recorded that when the time came to choose between surrendering our heartland to foreign control or reclaiming it for our people, we did not bow—we fought. And when the reckoning came for those who sought to drain this country of its strength, they found that rural America was not a relic of the past—it was the foundation of a new American century.

Let it be known that when we secured the prosperity of our farmers and small towns, we were not merely saving rural America—we were saving the soul of the United States itself.