A Case for Cascadia

If it has to be divorce, I want the Mercedes

I’ve long maintained that one of the worst ideas humanity has ever come up with is the notion that you can force someone to join, or forcibly prevent someone from quitting a club. This applies to anything.

Take, for instance, religion. Converting people at swordpoint or punishing apostates with death are both equally absurd. If they don’t want to be part of your religion, good riddance, right? Because if your beliefs are true, God will take care of punishing the infidels. And if your beliefs are false, then why are you believing and/or enforcing them in the first place?

Or how about marriage? If someone no longer wants to be trapped in a toxic relationship, or if they’ve simply grown apart over decades of togetherness and no longer wish to be bound to a vow made by their much younger self, let them go.

This applies to countries as well. As much of a shitshow as Brexit appears to be, what’s the point of being a sovereign nation if it doesn’t entitle you to sovereignty? The Brits voluntarily chose to join the EU club, and then they voluntarily chose to leave it — just as the former Soviet republics happily jumped ship at the earliest opportunity. Again, if someone wishes to leave your club, your union, your federation, your congregation, or even your gym, let them go. Sorry, Putin. You don’t get to try to force them back at gunpoint (or cruise missile point for that matter).

So let’s see how this idea applies to the (ever more precariously) United States of America.

A bit of history

The United States, as we currently know it, officially came into being, not on July 4, 1776, when the colonies first formally declared their independence from Britain, but rather, on June 21, 1788, when the Constitution was fully ratified. Prior to that, the U.S. consisted of a loose federation of independent states under the Articles of Confederation.

Both before and following the ratification of the Constitution, there was much debate regarding the pros and cons of federalism, that is, of having a stronger, more binding union under a powerful, centralized federal government. This debate goes on to the present day, most saliently, with the recent overturning of Roe v. Wade and the Supreme Court’s returning abortion rights decisions to the individual states to decide.

One of the driving forces behind the original push for federalism was the untenable situation under the former, loosely bound federation, of each colony independently maintaining its own army and navy. Besides the economies of scale advantage to be had by joining together as a single federal military (the same advantage that leads to corporate conglomerations creating powerful monopolies such as Amazon and Google), there was a very real fear that essentially having thirteen mini-countries would not prove a sufficient deterrent to foreign aggression, and could see the colonies picked off one by one in military conflicts with European colonial powers.

Fast forward fifty-seven years, and the advantages of federalism had become self-evident enough that the recently independent Republic of Texas opted to be annexed into the U.S., becoming the 28th state (after nine years of being its own country).

Sixteen years later, those advantages were no longer so self-evident, at least, not to the eleven states that chose to secede from the Union, forming the Confederate States of America, and triggering the Civil War. Four years of bloody conflict and 620,000 deaths later, they were drug back into the Union kicking and screaming, setting the stage for much of the increasingly rancorous and violent political polarization we’re currently witnessing in America.

Now I know this won’t be popular, but despite the moral outrage and daily horrors perpetuated by the “peculiar institution” of slavery, I believe the U.S. should have let the Confederacy secede. And I say this as a simple logical extension of my thesis presented in the opening paragraph of this essay: Forcing someone to join or forcibly preventing someone from quitting a club is among the worst ideas humanity has ever come up with.

Like we’re currently doing with Russia, the U.S. could have imposed massive sanctions on Dixie; they could have boycotted their products, blockaded their ports, intercepted their slave ships, etc., etc. They could have done any number of things to express their abhorrence and opposition to slavery. And it very well may have ended in war no matter what. But nonetheless, when the South wanted to “quit the club,” the North should have let them go.

All of which brings us to the present day.

Is civil war inevitable?

Poll after poll is now showing that the U.S is at its most polarized point in all of its history except for immediately preceding the Civil War. And more and more voices are starting to bandy about the notion that we might be heading into a second civil war. As an eleventh-generation American (and father to a twelfth), I find this deeply concerning. And I find it inexpressibly sad. I, for one, don’t fancy the prospect of seeing hundreds of thousands — if not millions — of my fellow countrymen blowing each other to bits and leaving a devastated, Donbas-like wasteland in the aftermath. Anything would be better than that.

And yet, as more and more thoughtful and intelligent voices are beginning to argue, perhaps the American experiment has run its course. Perhaps we now find ourselves in the position of an unhappy couple whose differences have grown irreconcilable, and for whom the healthiest path forward is to go our separate ways.

But if that’s the case, what might such a post-U.S. America look like?

Welcome to the balkanized states of America

For me personally, as a lifelong resident of the beautiful Pacific Northwest, the outlook wouldn’t be so bleak. In fact, it’s actually rather appealing. I’ve long joked of being a “Cascadian nationalist,” although I’ve always meant it culturally, not politically. The idea of “Cascadia” as an independent entity has long been discussed based on similarities in culture, geography, lifestyle, etc. in the region roughly comprising Washington, Oregon, and Northern California (with some folks including British Columbia as well).

Many have pointed out that if this region were to become an independent nation, we would still be among the top ten richest, most powerful, and most influential countries on Earth. Between our thriving high-tech sector, our abundant natural resources (including ubiquitous, clean, green hydropower that makes us essentially energy independent and carbon neutral), and our highly educated, diverse, and cosmopolitan populace, I’m pretty sure we’d be alright.

But I realize that perspective is a bit selfish. What would the rest of the country look like? What would a “national divorce” look like for the other hundreds of millions of Americans not as fortunate in the geographic lottery? In the interest of time and being as this is rapidly straying outside any possible expertise I can claim, simply as a thought experiment, let’s consider some possible options.

Outside the territorial boundaries of Cascadia, I could see California (all of it or just the southern part) breaking off into its own country. After all, it was very briefly its own nation (for all of 25 days) back in 1846 when it was the California Republic. With its large population, significant cultural, agricultural, and economic sway, and a mostly favorable climate, I think they’d be alright as well.

Next, we have the Southwest. Based on their cultural, political, and linguistic history as a previous part of Mexico, they’d likely opt to stick together. And I say this despite the ongoing polarization and purpling of many parts, as well as the “Mormon factor” in Utah. (The Mormons tend to be fairly insular and were once briefly in armed conflict with the U.S. government.)

I’d imagine much of the Rocky Mountain West would likewise band together, again, based on comparable geography, history, and cultural values. Similarly, the American heartland, the “breadbasket” of the Midwest would also probably join up as a new nation and would have considerable leverage based on their control of the grain supply (just as we’re seeing now with the conflict between Russia and Ukraine).

Texas would obviously go back to being its own country. Don’t mess with Texas, right? There’s already plenty of noise being made by both politicians and residents about seceding from the U.S. I think most people, liberals and conservatives alike, would pretty much be okay with that.

Lastly, rounding out the list, the Eastern Seaboard would likely reinstate the division at the Mason-Dixon line, with the conservative southern states of the old Confederacy once again joining forces while the liberal and industrious northern states and New England would form a new alliance, perhaps even carrying on the mantle of the United States of America if they kept D.C.

Of course, the obstacles to any of this are considerable. What’s to become of all of the military bases and assets? And what of the nukes? (As a Cascadian, despite our predilection toward pacifism, sorry not sorry, we’re keeping our considerable arsenal. Ukraine gave up theirs based on Russian assurances that they wouldn’t invade and is now learning their lesson the hard way.) What becomes of NASA? Is Texas suddenly a standalone space superpower? Space cowboys anyone? Who would maintain the interstate highways? Would they devolve into an endless series of tolls and checkpoints? What becomes of the dollar? What of the national debt? Does all of it default and all these new countries start off as economic pariahs, or do we dump it all on one region and wash our hands of it?

Obviously, such questions barely scratch the surface, but I’m going to leave it at that. All of this is merely theoretical at the moment, and for the most part, I hope it never comes to pass. If history is any guide, the dissolution of a once-grand empire is seldom pretty. The resulting balkanization and ensuing power struggles are seldom without massive suffering and destruction.

I sincerely hope Americans can find a way to overcome our present differences and find a way to once again get along, to once again respect each other as fellow citizens. I hope we can see that our similarities are greater than our differences, that the advantages of remaining one nation, of E Pluribus Unum, massively outweigh whatever gains might be had by separating.

But, if despite these pleas, America finds itself too polarized to peacefully coexist, then I hope Cascadia remains a friendly, welcoming bastion of peace, freedom, and opportunity, and I hope to see many of you applying for tourist visas.

Colby Hess is a freelance writer and photographer from Seattle, and author of the freethinker children’s book The Stranger of Wigglesworth.

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P.S. My sincere apologies for leaving out Alaska and Hawaii. I guess I figured they’d obviously want to go their own ways. But either or both are more than welcome to join Cascadia!