Traveling the states that touch the Great Lakes and watching national news, I've come to realize that we really are part of the nation's Rust Belt. It's not just because heavy manufacturing has faded into our past; it's also because we've let a whole lot fall apart. Drive I-65 through Indiana lately? You probably need dental work. Lose your car in a sink hole after a sewer tunnel collapsed? No, it's not the stuff of science fiction; it's our new reality. Sit out four hours of a work day because the power at the office in the city was down? In this day and age, really?!? And don't even get me started on the state of public education ...
Pulling up roots does not appeal to me, especially now that I have a grandchild. However, I am growing increasingly frustrated by what I will call our eroding sense of public good.
We should be proud!
The Midwest most certainly deserves to be proud of its history. My home state of Michigan gave birth to the assembly line (Ford Motor Co.) and mass production, which enabled average Americans to buy cars — and myriad other durable goods, including houses. The Big Three automakers (Ford, General Motors and Chrysler) put America on wheels and helped establish the middle class, together with union labor, which raised the country's standard of living. Raw materials, including timber, iron and copper, flowed out of the Upper Peninsula of Michigan on ships sailing the Great Lakes; the Great Lakes themselves became an invaluable trade route that fed — literally and figuratively — the nation. All the while, farmers produced diverse foods, from apples and potatoes to milk and beef.
My adopted state of Wisconsin helps keep the nation in milk, cheese and bratwurst to this day. Milwaukee was one of few cities in the U.S. to try socialism on for size while building community pride, spawning fabulous public parks, buildings and education. And, of course, we can't forget the beer, motorcycles, and mining and agricultural equipment (Allis-Chalmers) produced here.
Illinois became the nation's transportation hub — the Port of Chicago connected the state to Great Lakes shipping; Chicago became the center of the railroad business, leading the nation in rail connections; and O'Hare International Airport was once the world's busiest airport. Illinois is also part of the nation's Corn Belt, is home to the world's largest commodities exchange, and was claimed as home by four of the country's presidents.
Indiana, which sits in the Corn and Grain belts of the U.S., gave us organized high school basketball, Hoosiers (in this case, I mean college athletes), and more NBA players than any other state, plus one of motorsports' most-beloved race tracks. She also helped product the steel that built America.
The two states with which I am least familiar, Minnesota and Ohio, both boast Great Lakes ports and miles of access to major rivers (the Mighty Mississippi and the Ohio, respectively). The Wright brothers of Ohio modernized flight, with the first powered airplanes. Minnesota voters set the standard for active political participation.
Combined, our states also founded impressive public research universities, including most of the Big 10 schools.
But we can't rest on our laurels
We did well, we Midwestern Great Lakes states, during the agricultural economy and then the manufacturing economy, for myriad reasons. We can credit our vast natural resources — not just iron, copper and timber, but also healthy soil and fresh water; our proximity to the Great Lakes and the development of the St. Lawrence River into a seaway; an abundance of paved roads, water canals, railroads and airports; and our bust-ass work ethic and kick-ass education, both formal (apprenticeships, internships and universities) and informal (Grandpa showed you how).
Now, however, we're in a knowledge economy. We cannot all rely on the soil or the strength of our backs to earn us sustainable incomes. I say "all" because some of us still do work in agriculture, with family farmers fighting like the Irish for their livelihoods, and in manufacturing, which is returning stateside in high-tech formats. But most of us find ourselves pretty far removed from our (great-) grandparents' farms and our (grand) parents' factories. We're being forced to evaluate our worth, and it's scary.
The result has been belt-tightening. We fight tax increases, even as our roads literally crumble. Instead of fixing our broken public school systems, we divert money and resources via voucher programs to private schools, which aren't doing much better by students because they use the same out-dated educational models as public schools. The Great Lakes are polluted and stricken by invasive species; O'Hare has become the second worst airport in the nation in terms of delayed and canceled flights. We in Wisconsin refuse to join the Midwest High-Speed Rail project or to accept federal stimulus money to invest in broadband Internet expansion. We've defunded our public university system, to the point where tax revenue accounts for only 18 percent of the University of Wisconsin budget, forcing tuition up at unprecedented rates; students whose parents cannot pay for college are taking on unprecedented student-loan debt loads.
Did I mention that we're now in a knowledge economy? That means workers are valued based on what they know. Robots can build cars; workers control robots, a job that requires knowledge. Once upon a time, unions might have provided on-the-job training at minimal cost to workers, but ... that's a thing of the past. Now, workers have to pay to acquire knowledge considered valuable, even the basic knowledge needed to get in the door at a starting level. Or face working in low-skill, low-pay industries like retail (Wal-Mart) or service (restaurants). Further, workers in today's knowledge economy must learn to collaborate, troubleshooting in teams, as today's workplace problems are far too complex for individuals to solve. That requires, ummm, teamwork.
Teamwork. Does a state that refuses to pay for vital public services seem like a place employers would look for team players? Let's check the Fortune 500 company count. Michigan, a burned-out skeleton of its once proud self, has 19; Minnesota has 18. Wisconsin has 10. Granted, Michigan has twice the population (and the Big Three), but Minnesota has fewer people than Wisconsin. Why the disparity?
That is one of many questions we in the Midwest need to ponder. Heavily. Seriously. Publicly. Privately. What is working? Ask Detroit (believe it or not). And what isn't? Ask many other Midwest communities.
I'm fairly confident, having weighed the situation myself and collaboratively with others, it's going to become painfully obvious that failing to tend to the public good is simply feeding the rust.
