How Turner's Frontier Thesis led Americans astray

Frederick Jackson Turner of "Frontier Thesis" fame is one of the key subjects of Union: The Struggle to Forge the Story of United States Nationhood, being the primary figure in creating the idea that American-ness was born on the expanding western frontier.

As I argued in this essay that appeared in Sunday's Minneapolis Star-Tribune, Turner's thesis was enormously influential, but entirely wrong. In fact, on digging further into the data, even Turner quickly realized this and pivoted to researching what he thought were the primary determinants of American political and sociological history: the difference between the competing "sections," or regional cultures. He spent the rest of his life trying to write a master work on this, a book that from his shorter form essays on the subject, could have resembled my American Nations in many ways.

Hope you enjoy the article. And if you want the full story, it's all in Union.

For a bit on another major figure in the book, Woodrow Wilson, see this in Talking Points Memo.

VOA, Texas Monthly, New Orleans Times-Picayune, others on American Nations

American Nations continues to benefit from its second freak virality incident on the Internet, which first manifested itself a week and a half ago at the Washington Post and last week via Business Insider's much circulated articles.

Earlier this week I was interviewed by Voice of America for their "All Things America" blog; that article posted late yesterday. Here's a teaser:

As people move around, one might assume the country would become more homogenous, but Woodard says the opposite occurs, with Americans becoming more polarized as they move to regions they identify with

“That means, in essence, that we are self-sorting,” he said. “That when somebody has an opportunity to move…people tend to be moving to places where they feel more at home, where they are surrounded by like-minded individuals. That ends up with a self-sorting effect that ends up reinforcing the differences between these regional cultures.”

Woodard expects the characteristics of these cultures to remain fundamentally constant over the next century, a key reason he aspires to make more Americans aware of their forgotten past.

Meanwhile, Minnesota Public Radio picked up on the Business Insider piece, emphasizing the great gulf between the two "superpowers", Yankeedom and the Deep South. Meanwhile the Bakersfield Californian named American Nations as one of the ten things their readers needed to know, and the New Orleans Times-Picayune flagged it in regards to what it says about New France, and provoking lots of comments. (For the record, New Orleans itself is shared between New France and the Deep South (and probably the Spanish Caribbean as well, if I ever got into that.))

Somewhere in the fray, Texas Monthly's John Nova Lomax posted this fun article which uses American Nations and Spotify data to explain why various Texas musical genres succeed in being popular in certain areas outside of the Lone Star State. I greatly enjoyed it. An excerpt:

In a way, the Spotify lists lend credence to reporter and author Colin Woodard’s eleven nations of North America map, in which four distinct cultures converge within Texas. Spotify did not provide data for Woodard’s “Midlands” strip of Texas – the northernmost counties of the Panhandle – but his “El Norte,” which he calls “the oldest, and most linguistically different, nation in the Americas” is exemplified by Spotify’s Spanglish El Paso chart, one of the most unusual in the United States.
And he kind of shares my own long-held observation that the Deep South doesn’t really end until you get to Brookshire on I-10, which is where real Texas finally begins. Music tastes bear this out. For example, even if Houston rappers aren’t specifically well-received in Louisiana or the Deep South in terms of style, the lists of both Humble and Houston in East Texas have a bit more in common with Baton Rouge and Memphis than they do with, say, San Antonio or even Dallas. Both of the East Texas population centers show far more of a taste for various African-American music styles (mostly hip-hop, but also blues and zydeco) than places west of the Brazos and north of College Station, where country takes over. Houston’s western suburb of Katy is more akin to Lubbock than it is to Humble.
- See more at: http://www.texasmonthly.com/the-daily-post/mapping-the-popularity-of-texas-artists-outside-of-texas/#sthash.M25X54nA.dpuf 

In a way, the Spotify lists lend credence to reporter and author Colin Woodard’s eleven nations of North America map....He kind of shares my own long-held observation that the Deep South doesn’t really end until you get to Brookshire on I-10, which is where real Texas finally begins. Music tastes bear this out. For example, even if Houston rappers aren’t specifically well-received in Louisiana or the Deep South in terms of style, the lists of both Humble and Houston in East Texas have a bit more in common with Baton Rouge and Memphis than they do with, say, San Antonio or even Dallas. Both of the East Texas population centers show far more of a taste for various African-American music styles (mostly hip-hop, but also blues and zydeco) than places west of the Brazos and north of College Station, where country takes over. Houston’s western suburb of Katy is more akin to Lubbock than it is to Humble.

I also did Fox News Radio's John Gibson Show, but I don't think the segment's online, so you should have been listening!

Thanks to all the new readers who've reached out this past week. Enjoy the book and look out for the sequel.

In a way, the Spotify lists lend credence to reporter and author Colin Woodard’s eleven nations of North America map, in which four distinct cultures converge within Texas. Spotify did not provide data for Woodard’s “Midlands” strip of Texas – the northernmost counties of the Panhandle – but his “El Norte,” which he calls “the oldest, and most linguistically different, nation in the Americas” is exemplified by Spotify’s Spanglish El Paso chart, one of the most unusual in the United States.
And he kind of shares my own long-held observation that the Deep South doesn’t really end until you get to Brookshire on I-10, which is where real Texas finally begins. Music tastes bear this out. For example, even if Houston rappers aren’t specifically well-received in Louisiana or the Deep South in terms of style, the lists of both Humble and Houston in East Texas have a bit more in common with Baton Rouge and Memphis than they do with, say, San Antonio or even Dallas. Both of the East Texas population centers show far more of a taste for various African-American music styles (mostly hip-hop, but also blues and zydeco) than places west of the Brazos and north of College Station, where country takes over. Houston’s western suburb of Katy is more akin to Lubbock than it is to Humble.
- See more at: http://www.texasmonthly.com/the-daily-post/mapping-the-popularity-of-texas-artists-outside-of-texas/#sthash.M25X54nA.dpuf

What is the Midwest?

There's a movement afoot among Midwestern historians to revive the region's identity. Spearheaded by South Dakota's Jon Lauck, author of The Lost Region, it aims to spark an intellectual conversation about the region's identity, history, and culture. Here's Lauck, who is also counsel to Sen. John Thune, talking with the Argus-Leader:

“When you start looking for Midwestern history, one of the first things you figure out is that there’s not much (written). In previous generations, people had a better sense of who they were. Now the culture they breathe in and absorb every day is from the national media outlets. We exist in an atmosphere that is divorced of place. Local institutions and influence have been diluted.”

They've started a new regional history association, complete with a journal and, this week, are convening for a significant academic conference at the Hauensteun Center for Presidential Studies at Michigan's Grand Valley State University. I'll be giving a keynote at the conference, providing some continental-scale context via my most recent book, American Nations: A History of the Eleven Rival Regional Cultures of North America.

I'm a bit of a spoiler in that I argue that, in cultural terms, there isn't really a single "Midwest" but rather three or four of them, depending on where you chose to draw the lines. This, I will suggest, is why the region has had less success in sustaining a separate identity and historical tradition than, say, "the South" or New England. People argue about what is and isn't the Midwest because they're using very different criteria.

A few very recent cases in point:

Hearing that a Midwestern history conference was taking place in Michigan, this writer at the Minneapolis Star-Tribune suggested that if there is a "Midwest", Michigan and Minnesota can't be in it at the same time. "Not to take anything away from Michigan, she writes, "but it gives recent talk about declaring Minnesota the epicenter of a new region called “North” a whiff of legitimacy."

Midwestern native John Saunders, having read American Nations and Albion's Seed, suggests there isn't one Midwest, or four (as I would argue), but five, and he's created a multi-part discussion of his regions at his blog. (It's his map at the top of this post.)

Jon Lauck and his colleagues recently held a panel discussion just to determine where the Midwest ends and the "Great Plains" begin, which I gather wasn't an easy task.

Or this extended discussion of the unsettled boundaries of Illinois' regional divisions, reposted by Reboot Illinois.

One Midwest or many, I'm looking forward to the proceedings.

Minneapolis Star-Tribune on American Nations, Woodard on popes

I was pleased to see the Minneapolis Star-Tribune's Sunday feature on my recent book, American Nations. Staff editorial writer Jill Burcum's piece, "The United States -- a nation of nations", draws on both the book and a recent interview.

Here's a snippet from the piece:

"Woodard's book is grounds for optimism. That we've stuck together for so long despite vast differences and previous secession threats (not just from the South) is remarkable -- especially now that we see how precarious the European Union is. What may make America truly exceptional is that our nations chose to weave themselves together relatively early in their histories. History shows that retrofitting unity onto nations with identities calcified for centuries doesn't work over the long haul."

The Star-Tribune, "STRIB" to its subscribers, also published my Bloomberg View essay on the 2012 elections back in November.

In an unrelated matter, I was surprised by the pope's announcement that he was resigning, as I thought that just wasn't done. Back at one point when John Paul II was thought to be dying, I went to Vatican City and filed this story on likely papal successors for the Christian Science Monitor. I'm curious how many of the names surface as successors this time around. (Notice Ratzinger didn't make the expert's short list, which shows how hard it is to read the intentions of the College of Cardinals.)

On the GOP's collapse in Yankeedom

I've written several pieces running this weekend on the effect of regional cultures on the U.S. election results this year. They all draw, of course, on the paradigm set forth in my most recent book, American Nations: A History of the Eleven Rival Regional Cultures of North America.

The first posted last night over at Washington Monthly and focuses on the predictable but disastrous outcome for the Republican Party in the region of its birth: Yankeedom, the swath of the country first colonized by New Englanders and their progeny. It's the featured piece on their website this morning. As always, have a read and let me know what you think.

If you've just been introduced to my framework, you can download a high-resolution, county-level map of the eleven regional cultures here.

Maine in the making of Yankeedom and the nation

Yankeedom -- the portions of the country colonized by New Englanders and blessed/cursed with their culture -- encompasses the New England states, upstate New York, Ohio's Western Reserve, most or all of Michigan, Wisconsin, Minnesota, New Brunswick, Nova Scotia, P.E.I, and portions of northern Illinois, eastern Iowa, and beyond. They also tried -- but only half succeeded -- to make the West Coast a "New England on the Pacific," literally sending missionaries to "save" the region for Yankees. It's a story of cultural transmission told in my recently released book, American Nations: A History of the Eleven Rival Regional Cultures of North America.

Within that migration, Mainers sometimes played a key role, particularly where the lumber industry loomed large: Michigan, Minnesota, and coastal Washington state. It's a tale I explore in this month's Down East magazine, and one you can now read online.