Displaced: Blue Highways Recalled by Al Sikes

What happens when technology is the essential force? When its forces simply defy, for most, a good counter-strategy? This is an especially difficult question because for those who look to government for solutions, politicians project from the rearview mirror, offering a lot but providing little to those left behind. And humanity is now facing the inevitable onslaught of artificial intelligence (AI)

I have recently finished a road trip in the Southeast as my wife and I travelled home with our wonderful canines Jazz and Dizzy. We can’t pass them off as service dogs—plane travel was not on offer.

We chose what the author William Least Heat Moon called “Blue Highways,” although our road trip was a fraction of his. I first read Moon’s book decades ago. The book published in 1982 is considered a classic.

The blue highways are those that were largely displaced by the interstate highway system. And while I could go back further with disruptive technology, the interstate highway system is a good place to start and it proved to be wildly disruptive. I know, I grew up in a small town in Southeast Missouri and watched it happen.

When you drive the blue highways, there are still the remnants of businesses and jobs by-passed—dreams abandoned. The skeletons of old service stations and restaurants. Ghost buildings and equipment. And we even encountered several hitchhikers.

Farm fields, of course, have not been abandoned but equipment is now the leverage point of large-scale farming. Generations who supported their family with farm work have been displaced by enormous tractors and implements.

Particularly sad, fewer farm produce stands were apparent as we traveled with searching eyes. Corporate farmers sell their products to buyers who arrive in big trucks. The few farm stands we saw were selling garden-raised peaches, tomatoes, and the like.

We spent several nights in Linville, North Carolina. Linville is fortunate because the summer weather is cool and the surrounding mountains majestic. The area surrounding Linville is filled with Christmas tree farms. A local told us their business model has suffered a blow from what he called: “fake trees”. In many households plastic took on the natural beauty of a Spruce tree and won because it is mass produced. Christmas costs lowered to buy things.

And we saw plenty of devastated small towns. Most travelers don’t leave the interstates and when they eat they stop at fast food chain stores that are ubiquitous. They are featured at most exit points. The chain restaurants are largely supplied by companies that buy chickens by the millions and potatoes by the billions.

Dollar General understands. It has sprouted like dandelions. It has replaced the local—well, with Walmart—just about everything. Scale drives prices lower, which is a good thing unless you empathize with boys and girls who are driven by it and imports, leaving the towns and entrepreneurship behind.

I don’t know if there are statistics on Baptist churches in the rural south, but every crossroad seems to feature a half dozen and almost none of them seem to be associated with National Baptist church organizations. Entrepreneurship in the pulpit.

Since we drove the blue highways (mostly) home, we enjoyed local restaurants and bakeries but they were often hard to find. I did notice that some of the old buildings have been converted to Cannabis dispensaries. And technical schools, often called community colleges, were in some evidence.

There are no fixes for stay-at-home jobs, although valiant efforts were noticeable. The most noticeable: small art shops and bakeries. And living now in a virtual world I suspect there were virtual workers inside many homes. Our family emailing, while on the trip, points to Georgia as having rapidly expanded network connectivity, even in isolated areas—a forward step.

American capitalism has done very well and will continue to do so, gravitating to the new, new thing. And the new, new thing today is artificial intelligence. Urban and suburban America, beware.

But, while there are no fixes, there is one strategy that will work on an individual basis. Intelligence be prepared. Schools up your game. In the final analysis the only defense is education aligned with adaptability and the willingness to move on if necessary.  Certainly rural America has been forced to move on.

It’s Friday, the back roads are in Virginia. Notable as you get closer to, in our case, Richmond to have dinner with a granddaughter, you see cultural oddities. For example, an Islamic mosque in Horse Pasture, Va. Yes, that is the name of the town. And as we reached onto more travelled roads we began to see more new housing—almost all modular. My guess is that they come packaged with an assembler and somebody in the house has at least some dexterity with electrical and plumbing work. Not a favorable market for contractors and all the trades they have used in building houses, barns, sheds and the like.

Throughout the backroads trip most roads were named for flora, fauna or a close-by river or creek. Except if the road led to a church it was named for the church. In more developed areas roads that lead to somewhere are frequently named for a person who funded it or was a prominent member of the community. One of the more vivid names was Hanging Rock Road.

And one of the more appreciative memories was a small coffee/bakery combination called the Main Street Coffee in Pilot Mountain, Virginia. The best latte ever with excellent baked goods. Not to disparage Panera, but the woman who opened up her small shop should be in charge of upping Panera’s game.

The prosperity of small towns cannot be renewed by federal bureaucrats regardless of how well-meaning. But, there are developments local leadership can use as leverage.

Modest incremental investments can boost high-speed networks and virtual jobs. Consolidation and transportation can help overcome educational and healthcare voids. It is noteworthy and perhaps helpful that Amazon is upping its game in rural America. Regardless, it will take the moxie and energy we found at the Main Street Coffee in Pilot Mountain to lead renewal, where it is possible or maybe wanted.

But let me close on the upbeat. The pastoral vistas were not blemished by giant billboards. At night, it was quiet—loud motors were miles away. And maybe, most importantly, monotony was not on offer—stories told long ago were still around.

Al Sikes is the former Chair of the Federal Communications Commission under George H.W. Bush. Al writes on themes from his book, Culture Leads Leaders Follow published by Koehler Books.