Understanding the Rural-Urban Divide
One of the oldest political divisions in American history has been the rural-urban divide. Today, this divide is seen as an absolute truth; rural districts vote more conservatively and urban districts vote more liberally. Often, this phenomenon is considered to be a simple function of the interests of the “white farmer” class being opposed to the interests of the “black urbanite” class. So why is it that rural districts feel better represented by Republicans and urban districts feel better represented by Democrats?
One reason is demographics, which is a topic that needs its own exploration, but in controlling for demographics we can focus on the environments themselves and see that both rural and urban still skew towards one party. For our purposes, I want us to explore the role that economic status, geography, and psychology have in explaining rural and urban voting behavior.
As we examine this voting behavior more closely, it becomes apparent this divide does not exist on mere party lines but around certain key issues, some changing over time. The Rural-Urban divide stretches back to the founding of the Republic, with the rural Anti-Federalists, who opposed the formation of a stronger federal government under the new Constitution, vying with the urban New England Federalists who supported it. It exists in our most recent memory, including the 2018 midterm elections, that the rural districts voted heavily Republican and the urban districts voted heavily Democrat. Yet, a cursory glance at American political history reveals that rural and urban political allegiances have switched many times over the years. At various times in history, those allegiances belonged to parties that no longer exist, like the aforementioned Federalists and Anti-Federalists, and that allegiance has switched back and forth between the Democrat and Republican parties that still exist today.
Rural communities tend to be smaller and more spread out. In the country, there are fewer common areas like parks, venues, restaurants, or bars, resulting in more interactions among the same group of people over time. As cliché as it may sound, it is often the case that everyone knows everyone else. Rural communities, often, are less diversified economically and ethnically. These factors contribute to a higher social trust. Strangely enough, the tighter-knit communities also tend to exhibit fewer social proof mechanisms. This means, not only are social situations less ambiguous in the countryside, but when social situations are ambiguous, rural people tend to rely on established social norms instead of the behavior of the crowd. This is partially the having knowledge of the social norms and behaviors of your neighbors, as well as a store of social capital.
Conversely, urban communities are larger and more centralized. In cities, there are more venues and therefore more opportunities for people to isolate themselves in particular social enclaves. The cities are usually hubs of business with diverse industries and career paths. This diversity of labor, experience, and demographics reduces commonalities in an environment and reduces social trust.
As a result, urban communities tend to be more atomized, and an atomized population is more susceptible to social proof and other biases towards conformity. The seething chaos of humanity in cities also creates a sense of anonymity and impersonalization. This dehumanization possibly contributes to the prevalence of crime and violent disputes in cities. In addition, the sense of isolation in cities has been well documented, and while it has a variety of influences, it renders these populations vulnerable to both collectivism and identity-seeking. This can take the form of political activism, racial solidarity, social maneuvering, fads, and even the formation of gangs.
Related to, and a product of, the social and geographic environment, is lifestyle. It stands to reason and observance that those who live in rural areas are more likely to be perceived by themselves and others as ‘independent’ (independent in lifestyle, not political ideology). When people live further apart or possess a lower level of digital communications infrastructure, the time to service is much higher. If it takes a day for the plumber to get out to your farm, why wouldn’t you teach yourself plumbing?
Sometimes the services simply aren’t there, such as the communications infrastructure previously mentioned, public transportation, healthcare, etc. Often times these rural communities have a strong social fabric (schools, neighbors, churches) that provides this support to the community.
Furthermore, if a rural denizen is involved in activities like hunting, fishing, gardening, knitting, farming, or animal husbandry, they have a pre-existing store of human capital that is self-sufficient in nature. Sometimes this self-reliance is borne more of necessity and life-and-death decisions than simple self-improvement. These factors contribute to more adaptability (referring here to the provision of basic goods and services), a sense of confidence, and perceived capability.
In contrast, we look at those who tend to make up the urban population. Because of the nature of industrialization and business in urban centers, urban denizens will often be more educated and specialized in their labor, with a focus on more technical and abstract fields. Generally speaking, they achieve this by foregoing the “traditional” skills retained in the countryside, and why wouldn’t they?
Cities abound with a cornucopia of goods and services; premium and exotic, entertainment and innovation. There is little incentive to sacrifice the time and effort to become more self-sufficient when you can spend that time accruing income to pay someone else to do a labor-intensive job. Thus, there is little incentive to become more independent. This plays out in a far more obvious political manner when it comes to the provision of public goods.
As mentioned before, there are far more public goods distributed in the population centers, the cities. Because of this and the incentives of dependency, the city population consumes more public services. This creates a familiarity bias and a sense of entitlement, which, when combined with the insatiable maw of human desire, leads to a demand for ever more public goods and services.
Shaping and being shaped by all of these factors is the locus of control, an individual’s belief system regarding the causes of his or her experiences and the factors to which that person attributes success or failure. While I have been speaking in generalities for this entire piece (after all, for every political split there is a minority), this is the most evenly distributed. Because of this, I will assume that rural residents are more likely to have a stronger internal locus of control and that urban residents are more likely to have a stronger external locus of control.
Those who have a strong internal locus of control, as found among people who live out in the country, tend to attribute success to his or her own efforts and abilities. They are also more likely to be motivated and willing to learn. What is significant is that this personality trait is implicitly individualistic. It emphasizes the agency of the individual and the opportunities that are available, sometimes without the person even having a formalized philosophy on individualism.
The internal locus of control helps explain a large part of the independence and social cohesion in rural districts.
Those who have a strong external locus of control, as can be found among those who live in the cities, tend to attribute his or her success to luck or fate. They are also less likely to take the initiative to learn and improve in areas they have not chosen to specialize in. Significant here is that this outlook is implicitly deterministic and collectivist. It collectivizes success and failure, usually to the institutions or environment around the person. It also assumes a certain level of social and societal determination in outcome, focusing on perceived barriers, while diminishing the agency of the individual. The external locus of control helps explain a large part of the dependency and lack of social cohesion in urban districts.
So given these set of influences, why should there be any particular patterns in political affiliation? Broadly speaking, and taking the party platforms at face value, we see that the Republican Party is the party that advocates for individualism, traditional values, the rule of law, military strength, low taxes, economic freedom, and the principle of limited government. The Democrat Party advocates for looser immigration laws, intersectionality, higher taxes, income equality, and a more expansive role of government.
It makes sense then that rural voters who possess a strong internal locus of control would identify with a party that professes belief in meritocracy, individualism, traditionalism, low taxes, and self-sufficiency. It also makes sense that urban voters would identify with a party that professes belief in wealth redistribution, intersectional hierarchies, and an increase in public goods and services.
As I have pointed out previously, most of these descriptions are generalities, and ultimately, political belief is an individual determination not set in stone. It is for this very reason that I believe it is important, in today’s shifting political environment, to not see districts or groups as inflexible, inexorable voting blocs, but as a complex dynamic of human behavior influenced by economic, geographic, and social environments.