Appalachia’s Quiet Strength: Kentucky as a Bellwether for America’s Future

“When the end of the world comes, I want to be in Kentucky. It is always ten years behind the times.”

This quote is often attrib­uted to Mark Twain, though there is no evi­dence he ever wrote or spoke it. But it rings true in many ways: we do seem to be on the tail end of most nation­al trends, don’t we?

But a recent op-ed in the Louisville Courier-Journal sug­gests that Appalachia (which includes near­ly half of Kentucky) may be at the van­guard of a sig­nif­i­cant new cul­tur­al shift in America.

The arti­cle, writ­ten by William Ney, reflects on cul­tur­al changes in America, with a focus on east­ern Kentucky and the broad­er Appalachian region. Ney observes that the nation­al mood is shift­ing away from loud­ness and spec­ta­cle toward steadi­ness and authenticity.

Ney spec­u­lates that in Appalachia, peo­ple are sen­si­tive to sub­tle changes in tone and pos­ture, often sens­ing cul­tur­al shifts before they become vis­i­ble else­where. Recent dis­as­ters in Kentucky, such as floods and tor­na­does, have high­light­ed a com­mu­ni­ty-ori­ent­ed response, empha­siz­ing qui­et resilience and steady lead­er­ship rather than pub­lic performance.

Ney writes, “Crews rebuild before any­one asks who deserves cred­it. Volunteers show up long before cam­eras appear.”

Music from Appalachia, rep­re­sent­ed by artists like Tyler Childers and Sturgill Simpson, embod­ies this shift. Their work has remained con­sis­tent, but the nation­al audi­ence is now more recep­tive to their mes­sages of kin­ship and rur­al strug­gle. Ney argues that the cur­rent change is not a par­ti­san swing but a reeval­u­a­tion of what is gen­uine. He says that Appalachia serves as an ear­ly-warn­ing sys­tem for these shifts, valu­ing hon­esty and clar­i­ty over brava­do and noise. The coun­try, it sug­gests, is grow­ing tired of shout­ing and is redis­cov­er­ing the val­ue of qui­et truth.

He notes that “Loudness does not car­ry the same weight it once did. People who built their names on con­fronta­tion sound more like they are tak­ing stock.”

Ney con­cludes that America is tired of shout­ing and is redis­cov­er­ing the kind of truth Appalachia has always known—truth that “nev­er need­ed to raise its voice.”

I sin­cere­ly hope this is true.

It doesn’t take a men­tal heavy­weight to see that the lev­el of civic dis­course in the US has tak­en a nose­dive in the MAGA era. President Trump and his admin­is­tra­tion offi­cials have trashed cen­turies-old norms of speech and con­duct. It seems that not a day pass­es with­out some­one in the admin­is­tra­tion say­ing or doing some­thing that goes far beyond the pale of civility.

Here in Kentucky, we have a gov­er­nor in Andy Beshear who seems to have found the for­mu­la for a course cor­rec­tion. He has been the voice of calm and com­pas­sion in the Commonwealth since tak­ing office in 2019. Throughout the COVID-19 pan­dem­ic and the nat­ur­al dis­as­ters that affect­ed Kentuckians dur­ing his two terms in office, his steady hand and calm, reas­sur­ing demeanor have helped us cope. 

He man­aged to get elect­ed and reelect­ed in a state where Trump won hand­i­ly in three pres­i­den­tial races and where the leg­is­la­ture is over­whelm­ing­ly Republican. That should tell us some­thing about the respect and trust peo­ple of all polit­i­cal ori­en­ta­tions have in Andy. (No dis­re­spect intended—he prefers to be called by his first name.)

Perhaps our gov­er­nor and our state are bell­wethers for America’s future. Maybe, just maybe, our beloved “Andy” can even help lead the nation into a new era of civil­i­ty, com­pas­sion, and tolerance.