Idaho grows out of
its cowboy boots
Guest opinion by JERRY BRADY
Jerry Brady is a contributor to Writers
on the Range, a service of High Country News (hcn.org). He is president of the
Post Company in Idaho Falls, Idaho.
Idaho politicians love to conduct the
nation’s business dressed in cowboy boots. Their boots aren’t just for walkin.’
On the Capitol’s marble floors they ring out an attitude of cowboy values and
ornery independence, of things being different way out West. Loafers they are
not.
Daandy as they may be, cowboy boots
reflect life in Idaho less and less. The 2000 U. S. Census makes it clear that
Idaho is no longer cattle country; it’s been citified.
In l990, the Census described a largely
rural state. "Sirloin Row" ruled the Legislature. Only two of 44 counties, Ada
and Canyon, were classified as "metropolitan statistical areas," defined as
trading centers with a population of at least 50,000. Just l0 years later, Idaho
has a dozen metro counties, adding a new one, on average, every year of the
decade. From being defined as 66 percent rural in l990, Idaho became 66 percent
urban in just l0 years.
"That may be the fastest swing from rural
to urban of any state in modern times," says Priscilla Salant, a rural economist
at the University of Idaho.
The new districts are best identified by
their cities: Idaho Falls, Pocatello, Twin Falls, Nampa, Lewiston and Coeur
d’Alene. Individually, none came as a surprise. But collectively, adding six
metro areas signals profound change for the state, change that has more to do
with computer chips than cow chips.
Idaho classifies 37 of its 44 counties as
"rural" because they have no city over 20,000. But this breakdown is almost
completely useless. There is no such place as "rural Idaho" but rather four
entirely different sets of counties. High-amenity places include Sun Valley,
Sandpoint and Driggs-Victor and smaller, prospering places like Blackfoot and
Rexburg are tied to an urban economy and doing well. The true rural Idaho
consists of about 15 counties, some still based solidly in agricultural or
lumbering, some of them isolated and losing population.
How Idahoans earn their living has also
flipped in the last l0 or 20 years. Employment and income from agriculture,
forestry and mining have declined steadily while service industries, processing,
manufacturing and construction--all urban activities--have driven the state’s
exceptional growth.
Yet, Idaho continues to behave like a
rural state. Our Legislature spends more time on dairy odors and grass field
burning than science and technology. Cities and their residents and school
patrons are treated like wards of the state, unable to make taxation decisions
for themselves. Idaho can’t even fill the one position devoted to science -- an
advisor to the governor. Its Science and Technology Advisory Committee hasn’t
met for two years.
Following reapportionment, the Legislature
created more urban seats and fewer rural ones, yet it’s hard to see to what
difference it has made. Those legislators with the time to serve still do not
fully represent the urban economy.
One reason we don’t think and act like an
urban state may be that Idaho became one largely by accident. Three business
geniuses: Jack Simplot, (modern potato processing), Joe Albertson,
(supermarkets), and Harry Morrison (construction), invented companies on a
totally new scale and put Idaho on the map. In l948, six businessmen in Idaho
Falls put up $3,000 to attract a federal facility that today is called the Idaho
National Engineering and Environmental Laboratory; a Hewlett-Packard executive
liked the golf courses of Boise better than those of Spokane and, to make a long
story short, moved 10,000 jobs here. That’s luck, not design.
Other states mounted strenuous and
expensive efforts to attract industry; urban-based prosperity came easily to
Idaho.
Unfortunately, what got us here probably
won’t keep us here. Jack Simplot’s company is shifting jobs to other states and
countries. Micron, which once paid 40 percent of the state’s corporate taxes, is
in trouble, as is Albertson’s, and the federal lab is about half its former
size. Huge international food companies continue to clobber our farmers,
ranchers and small lumber companies.
No one knows the economic way forward
clearly. The global economy is changing too quickly for any one strategy to be
effective for long. A great deal of what affects us is out of anyone’s control.
However, recognizing the true urban nature of Idaho is a good starting place
from which to make public policy. It also a good starting point when thinking
about rural Idaho as well. Cowboy boots are comfortable, particularly well-worn
ones like mine. But maybe the footwear of the future should make us faster on
our feet. Track shoes, anyone?