Yankee Dynamism
How does tradition inform the future of New England?
IT’S WHAT’S NEW
There is this clip from The West Wing I’ve become really fond of.
It hasn’t been taken down by Youtube yet, so give it a watch. The first 30 seconds are what interest me:
Here you can see New Hampshire Governor Jed Bartlett rolling his eyes, unimpressed, as earnest, impotent bureaucrats bore him with a new slogan to increase the state’s lagging tourism:
“New Hampshire: it’s what’s new!”
Barlett’s best friend and future Chief of Staff— Leo McGarry— lurks in the background, ready to call him away to destiny, greatness, and national politics.
The scene’s implication is clear— this problem is too small for Barlett, the Nobel laureate and future president. New Hampshire is too small, too provincial.
Anyway, the other day I met Ela Schmuhl— Public Affairs Director for New Hampshire’s actual Department of Business and Economic Affairs (of which tourism is one division). It occurred to me that I was speaking to the real life version of the person who— in The West Wing’s satire of New Hampshire— would actually be concerned with a public relations campaign to promote snowmobile tourism.
Except of course, Ela was nothing like The West Wing’s pencil pushers. She was confident, curious, and motivated to deliver tangible results for New Hampshire.
Ela is not the only Granite Stater with these qualities.
In fact, as I have publicly documented over the last 9 months, 60+ hours of recorded conversation, and hundreds of compiled stories, New Hampshire is awash in innovation, forward thinking, progress, problem solving, and optimism.
Yet this is not the image of New Hampshire that exists for most Americans, and even many Granite Staters.
Ask the average American1 about New Hampshire, and they’ll probably mention one of three things:
Our state motto is “Live Free or Die”
We hold the first primary in the nation in every election cycle
We have lots of trees and mountains
That West Wing clip aired in 2001, when I was six. I’m not sure New Hampshire’s national image has changed much since.
In 2012, on a high school trip to Florida, a fellow teenager asked where I was from.
“New Hampshire!” I said.
He blinked. “Cool! What state is that in?”2
We do occasionally attract national attention outside election season— though rarely in flattering ways. John Oliver covered Keene’s raucous Pumpkin Fest in 2014. In 2017, the President referred to New Hampshire as “a drug infested den” in reference to our tragic struggle with opioid addiction.3 Breaking Bad didn’t help either, depicting New Hampshire as a remote and isolating refuge for the notorious drug dealer Walter White.
However unfairly these media touchpoints portray New Hampshire, they are not specifically targeting the state— they reflect a broader information landscape that elevates fear, rage, and sensationalism.4
This news environment— both inaccurate and depressing— is what led me to start Granite Goodness, where I frame New Hampshire through a lens of progress and optimism by compiling stories of solutions and innovation. Inspired by organizations like Fix the News and The Progress Network, my goal is simple:
“When we only hear stories of doom, we fail to see the stories of possibility. We deny ourselves the opportunity to do better.” - Angus Hervey, Fix the News5
New Hampshire deserves a refreshed image—locally, regionally, and nationally.
EGGS, DIGNITY, AND DIRECT DEMOCRACY
This brings me back to The West Wing. For all its hokeyness, I think it got a lot right in portraying New Hampshire as an idealized soul of American virtue.
I often talk with podcast guests about my affection for the charming, absurd traditions that national candidates endure to win New Hampshire’s favor. There’s the egg signing at Saint Anselm College. The diner tour circuit, where skipping even one greasy spoon can sap your primary-winning mojo. And of course, the midnight vote in Dixville Notch, where six senior citizens cast the nation’s first primary ballots under flickering camera lights, as if they’re divining the fate of the republic.6
What explains the appeal of these rituals—beyond our spot on the primary calendar? Maybe it’s because they elevate ordinary citizens. Maybe it’s the ghost of the Old Man of the Mountain, stoically judging would-be presidents from on high.7
My view is that New Hampshire’s political charm stems from our traditions, our history, and our scale— the impression that we are an unsophisticated, overlooked corner of the country that has stayed unspoiled by the vanities of modern life. The sense that our smallness has kept us grounded and faithful to the quiet belief that every person matters.
This sense of rustic integrity shapes President Bartlett’s character. His values, moral clarity, and ability to navigate complex issues all stem from his identity as a 7th-generation New Hampshirite.8 When his presidency ends, he doesn’t chase prestige. He returns—uncorrupted—to his farm in New Hampshire.
This is a story Americans know by heart.9
In fiction, it’s Frodo returning to the Shire.10
In American myth, it’s George Washington returning home to Mount Vernon.11
In history, it’s the Roman tale of Cincinnatus, who was called from his farm to serve his country, governed with humility, and then famously “returned to his plough.”12 Bartlett embodies that republican virtue. He quotes Latin,13 holds deep devotion to his Roman Catholic faith, and exudes prudence and modesty.
There is a lot to like about this story. A respect for the simple life. A belief that power and complexity are oppressive, corrupting, and in opposition to the true and good values of regular people. If we’re going to emulate Roman ideals, we could do far worse.14
However America failed to apply these ideals at its founding, we’ve spent 250 years bending our arc toward more participation, equality, and freedom. New England helped birth the American Revolution, and has since remained at the forefront of much social and democratic progress.
New Hampshire itself holds strong progressive bonafides. In 1835 (119 years before Brown v. Board of Education), abolitionists from Dartmouth College created Noyes Academy, a co-ed interracial school in Canaan (it didn’t last, but the attempt matters).
In the modern era, New Hampshire continues to demonstrate more liberality than much of the country, with 82% of Granite Staters supporting same sex marriage as of 2022 (11% higher than the national approval rate of 71%). After the 2012 election, we became the first state where women held the governorship and every congressional seat.
We do this while holding fast to our Cincinnatan virtue. When Justice David Souter retired from the United States Supreme Court in 2009, he quietly moved back to his family’s land in Weare. Reporters swarmed his small town, eager for glimpses into the private life of a public man. His neighbors all said the same thing:
“That’s his business, not ours—and not yours.”15
That story speaks volumes about New Hampshire. Here, privacy means trust. Neighborliness means respect. We’re not indifferent to each other—we just assume all people deserve to live freely and quietly.
What’s more remarkable is that this respect for community is paired with a forward-thinking spirit. Today, New Hampshire is at the forefront of progress across a range of domains—while still living its rustic values. Certainly, we have problems, but much success as well:
Nation leading standards in the adoption of community power, resident owned communities, and civics education
One of the lowest poverty rates in the country, and consistently high quality of life rankings
Leading the country in the percentage of its electricity generated from nuclear energy (~65% in 2024)
Here, tradition and progress are expressed more often as mutually reinforcing ideals than as oppositional concepts.
For example, The New Hampshire Tech Alliance represents the state’s vibrant and growing tech sector, accounting for 12.6% of our GDP and spanning fields like software, medtech, manufacturing and more. The Alliance is lead by its remarkable Executive Director Julie Demers, who— while being a staunch advocate for innovation— also happens to be a gardener and proud caretaker of a small flock of chickens.
That’s no coincidence.
That’s YANKEE DYNAMISM.16
Our traditional New England values—practicality, independence, quiet kindness—fuel our ability to adapt, create, and build. These values don’t hold us back— they drive us forward. Yankee Dynamism lives in the people who roll up their sleeves, trust their neighbors, and quietly change the world.
Yankee Dynamism is Charley Cummings founding Walden Mutual Bank in Concord—the first new mutual bank in 50 years—where savings power local food entrepreneurs.
It’s Julianna Dodson organizing the Radically Rural conference in Keene, where small-town leaders share real solutions from across America.
It’s Steve Turner and Shana Brunye in Rye, rebuilding America’s pipeline into the trades.
It’s James Key-Wallace and the New Hampshire Business Finance Authority running a quasi-state agency like a startup lab, proving that government can be accountable, agile, and entrepreneurial.
It’s Shemariah Blum-Evitts and Rachel Brice at Land For Good pioneering an innovative national movement for farmland access.
It’s Emmett Soldati in Somersworth, crafting a grassroots brand rooted in justice, elbow grease, and stubborn joy—strong enough to beat a global megacorp in court.
It’s my friend Jules Good, teaching farmers how to help wheelchair users pick apples—and spreading that knowledge far beyond the Granite State.
It’s the old mills of Manchester—once powerhouses of the Industrial Revolution, now reborn as high-tech biomanufacturing hubs.
It’s a land deal in Berlin that balances conservation, housing, and local values—with no one left out of the equation.
It is, in the simplest terms, an embrace of the future and possibility, centered around human freedom, tradition, and relationships. It is what Live Free or Die, means to me.
If that sounds contradictory, it’s because it is. Welcome to Yankeedom. We do things our own way—and we’re not particularly concerned if others understand.
This ethos resonates across New England, but stands out in the Granite State. Our size, social capital, political purpleness, homegrown system of governance, unique environment, history, Live Free or Die spirit, and deep-seated aversion to insincerity all make New Hampshire strangely well suited to confront and solve the challenges of modernity.
More importantly, now is the perfect time to say so—boldly, clearly, and proudly. To declare that this is who we are, and this is how we lead.
I’ve heard from college presidents, industry leaders, farmers, workers, statesmen and students,17 how tired they are of hearing that New Hampshire is “a hidden gem.”
GRANITE GOODNESS exists to unveil this gem through an optimistic lens, and the jewel is YANKEE DYNAMISM.
THE FUTURE WE MUST BUILD
Optimism and a positive-sum view of the future have become subversive worldviews—especially in recent years. Whether real or imagined, we now frame so many of our challenges through the lens of scarcity.
The thinkers who study progress18 more deeply than I ever will have made a striking observation about the last 50 years: most of our advancement has happened in the digital realm of bits—software, social media, artificial intelligence—while the physical world of atoms—energy grids, housing, infrastructure—has stagnated.
This imbalance matters. Not just because we want faster trains or cleaner air, but because if we’re going to:
Avoid or mitigate the worst impacts of climate change
Build a future of prosperity and opportunity for all
Power human civilization while shrinking our environmental impact
Then there’s no way around it: we simply must build. A lot. Fast.
This is the thesis of Abundance— a newly released book by Ezra Klein and Derek Thompson, in which they make the case that “To have the future we want, we need to build and invent more of what we need.”
It’s a deceptively simple premise. To New Englanders, it should be a compelling one.
One of the more striking points in Abundance is the argument that when it comes to infrastructure, housing, and energy—what matters most isn’t what governments promise to build, or how much they spend, but what actually gets done. In other words: does the thing work? Does it exist? Is it on time? Is it useful?
To me, that’s not just a technocratic concern. That’s a deeply New England value set.
This is a region that values authenticity over artifice and function over flash. In New Hampshire especially, thrift, punctuality, and plainspokenness run deep. We prize getting the job done right over making a show of it. The Granite State was even just named #1 in the country for delivering taxpayer ROI by WalletHub.19
It’s no accident that our town meetings are direct democracy incarnate, or that our public servants often drive their own cars and eat at the same diners as their constituents.
Our state legislators— paid just $100 a year— are essentially volunteers compelled by civic duty. With 400 elected members representing just 1.4 million people, the New Hampshire House of Representatives is the most representative body per capita in the United States.20
We have a natural aversion to bombast. A skepticism toward overpromising. A quiet insistence that results matter more than rhetoric.
So when Abundance calls for a government—and a civic culture—that’s less about declarations and more about delivery, it doesn’t feel foreign. It feels familiar. It feels like home. It feels like the kind of accountability and integrity that’s been built into our barns and budgets for generations.
And yet— while there are many things the Granite State does uniquely well, we are not awash with abundance. We are among the worst states in the country for housing need, and our electricity costs don’t fare much better. Just the other day I personally heard the governor essentially say “Listen, I’d love to get more passenger rail in our state, but it’s just too expensive to build.” For the record— at this juncture— I suspect she’s right.
Regionally, we are stagnant in many ways. True, Boston may excel in medicine and education, but much of New England struggles with economic and demographic decline, especially in rural areas.
Abundance reminds us that it does not have to be this way.
It’s a provocative message for much of New England. The book is generally not kind to states governed by Democrats.21 Thompson and Klein’s argument, bluntly, is that blue states don’t build, and red states do.22
In the authors’ analysis— restrictive building policies in blue states are driving people and businesses to red states with lower costs and fewer regulations. This migration—accelerated by remote work—has boosted growth in places like Texas and Florida. The trend is so pronounced that after the 2030 census, up to 20 Electoral College votes could be reallocated toward traditionally Republican states. That’s a big shift!23
My interest in this is not about red vs. blue—it’s about places that say yes to the future vs. those that don’t.
I think that states should compete fiercely to build the best lives for their residents, and that we should be building the future faster anyway. I believe the best way to do that is by embracing a vision of more opportunities and frontiers of experience— not less.
Abundance doesn’t map neatly onto contemporary ideological frames—its very nature defies them. Just as New Hampshire’s Live Free ethos resists limitation, so too does a vision of the future driven by possibility, not constraint.
More town centers. More rail stops. More cider mills. More co-ops. More clean rivers. More backyard weddings. More Main Street bookstores. More barn renovations. More homes. More babies. More libraries. More energy independence. More gay marriages. More innovation. More growth. More poetry readings. More apprenticeships. More gardens. More greenhouses. More community. More belonging. More tomorrows.
This is Yankee Dynamism.
New England shouldn’t —and need not— cede the future to anyone. We have extraordinary accomplishments and advantages, with northeast states regularly making strong showings in “best states to live in” rankings. Together, this region has a wealth of intellectual, social, financial, and cultural capital.
These problems are not at all lost on New England. Great progress is being made across many areas— the Minutemen are moving, and I am watching them intently at Granite Goodness— but we need to step it up.
New Hampshire however, sticks out!24 In recent years, the state has seen a population increase and robust economic growth— outpacing every other state in New England, and even recently seeing the highest growth rate along the east coast.25 Towns and organizations across the state are also creatively stepping up to address the housing shortage.
I believe that this success, like Julie Demers’ flock of chickens, is no accident— but rather an indicator of our vigor and rejection of stasis. Our Yankee Dynamism.
These words are a celebration. An ethos to remember, harness, and embrace New England’s manifest spirit of revolution, progress, and innovation. To envision and build the better future we are capable of in the way only we know how.
As is often said, what’s old is new again.
This begs the question though— what exactly is new?
New Hampshire: it’s what’s new!
I write this with full awareness that the average person— let alone American— doesn’t actually exist, and it would be remarkable if they did. You’re special! : )
A very similar exchange happened to my wife where, upon starting her job last year, a co-worker asked “What part of New Jersey in New Hampshire in?” Every Granite Stater has a story like this.
Surprising no one, New Hampshire’s midnight primaries hold no predictive power whatsoever. But this is not why they are special!
Funnily enough, my friend Jordan Tucker is descended from the actual Josiah Bartlett who, along with William Whipple and Matthew Thornton, signed The Declaration of Independence on behalf of New Hampshire. He is supposed to have signed 2nd, after John Hancock. As far as I know Jordan is not interested in running for president. Even if he were, he would not have my vote.
The story of rustic country people teaching those city folk a lesson about integrity and values is both ancient and ubiquitous in American culture. It’s Mr. Smith Goes to Washington and all Hallmark Christmas movies. Hey ChatGPT, describe the prompt for a generic hallmark Christmas movie: “A big-city career woman is sent to a wholesome small town just before Christmas, where she butts heads with a rugged local who cherishes faith, family, and tradition. As she’s swept up in simple joys—homemade pies, tree lightings, and community warmth—she rediscovers the true meaning of Christmas and the down-to-earth values she didn’t know she was missing.”
I know, I know, I talk about how NH is the Shire on every episode of Granite Goodness. In fairness, come on people, it’s literally in our name (no other state has this).
Teach em how to say goodbye
In a surreal comic parallel to this piece, Boris Johnson once referred to himself as Cincinnatus after likening himself to a booster rocket returning into the atmosphere. If you squint, this combination of metaphors could almost be considered “Yankee Dynamism”— if Boris himself wasn’t so unbelievably British.
Souter soon afterward moved to a new home in the neighboring town of Hopkington. The primary reason was apparently that “the two-story farmhouse was not structurally sound enough to support the thousands of books he owns.”
This motto was partly inspired by A16z’s American Dynamism
It’s a great speech
See: Tyler Cowen, Patrick Collison, Jason Crawford, Hannah Ritchie, Max Roser, Alec Stapp, and too many others to list.
With low unemployment, low poverty, and efficient government services, Granite Staters are getting exceptional value for every tax dollar. – WalletHub
The entire NH General Court (House + Senate) is also the 3rd largest parliamentary body in the English speaking world. #1 is the Parliament of the United Kingdom with 1,435 members. #2 is the United States Congress with 535 members. Some sources will state NH as #4 because the Indian Parliament (543 members) allows English for parliamentary proceedings, but Hindi is the official language. Hindi is also the official language of Coos County (kidding). To be clear, I am not claiming that this body does or doesn’t optimally represent New Hampshirites— the legislature’s lack of pay is a big debate— I more just want to point out how unique its size is.
This should be interpreted as tough love— Ezra and Derek are proud liberals who I believe sincerely want government to work better everywhere.
Nuance: in Abundance, the authors argue that while blue states often champion progressive values like equity, sustainability, and affordable housing, they frequently fail to deliver on those promises because of restrictive zoning laws, bureaucratic red tape, and local opposition that prevent new building—especially in housing and infrastructure. In contrast, red states, despite having more conservative rhetoric, are often better at actually building and enabling growth, thanks to fewer regulations and a more pro-development mindset. This creates a paradox where the states that talk the most about “progress” are often the ones most resistant to the physical change that real progress in housing & energy supply requires.
It is worth mentioning in this analysis that the New England states (except, perhaps, Rhode Island) are not projected to lose any electoral college votes. But as a region generally governed by Democrats, New Englanders should take the critiques from Abundance seriously— we have a severe shortage of housing, and need to build more energy and transportation infrastructure, faster.
Even the Boston Globe cannot ignore all of the GRANITE GOODNESS
I am excited to talk to Taylor Caswell about this in an upcoming episode of Granite Goodness!
Excellent article, I enjoyed reading it