I have a vision of the future that I just can’t shake. It’s shaped my politics and many of the choices that I’ve made. It’s a vision of human experience over corporate profits, a vision of abundance and community. It’s a vision that, sadly, feels farther and farther away, but not yet entirely out of reach. When the future is continuously portrayed as something negative, like The Matrix, Blade Runner, or Fury Road, it can be hard to imagine something better. Something positive. But to build the future, we first must imagine the future. Iowa is a mid-sized Midwestern state, but still similar in size to several European nations. There’s a lot we could do as a state. So, allow me a small indulgence and join me in this daydream of how things could be.
Imagine living in a small Iowa farming town, but it’s not run down and falling apart… it’s vibrant, alive. Imagine walking down to a local railway station, a beautiful, clean, and modern building next to the city square. Inside you’d stop at a coffee shop run by a friend’s daughter for coffee and a pastry, before riding the train to Des Moines, or Ames, or Iowa City in minutes. Imagine looking out the window at the farmland as it passes by, not growing corn for ethanol, but diverse crops of actual, real food. There’s still plenty of sweet corn, of course, we just aren’t growing corn to burn anymore. The smaller farms employ more people, and switching to food production has revitalized the traditional family farm.
You wouldn’t only see the food-growing farms as you pass by; you’d see wind farms as well, generating the clean energy that the state now runs off of. As you pass through the suburbs on the way to the city center, you’d see green lawns and solar panels on every roof, each home generating the electricity it needs and trading the excess to the grid. The transition to clean energy and sustainable farming has cleaned the air and the water; Iowa now has some of the cleanest water in the country, no more worrying about nitrates or other cancer-causing chemicals when you want to fish or swim.
When you arrive in the city you either walk, ride a bike, or rent a scooter to your studio. Your work in engineering is in great demand, balancing the economic boom from investments in renewable energy and railways with making the best environmental decisions for everyone. You spend the day engrossed in your work, breaking for lunch at noon, and heading home around four. You pass by thousands of workers who are also working in the clean energy industry, building, maintaining, or managing solar panels, wind turbines, and train components. Iowa’s history of manufacturing and culture of building and making dovetailed nicely with the demands of clean energy that’s not reliant on international suppliers.
You hop on the train and, in 20 minutes or so, get off in your town and walk to the local grocery coop to pick up some fresh produce and dairy for dinner. Passing by the local brewery you think about stopping by later tonight to meet up with friends, but for now dip into the bakery for a loaf of fresh sourdough. Instead of carrying all that home, you borrow one of the city bikes and put your groceries in the basket; they know you’ll ride it back tomorrow. When you get home, your house senses that you’ve arrived and turns on the appropriate lights, opens the windows, and greets you as you walk in the door.
When I envision the future I think about jobs in clean energy, farmland that grows actual food, and a sustainable way of life that doesn’t actively destroy the world we live in. How can anyone argue against a life where everyone benefits? I can understand being skeptical, but I invite you to imagine with me. If you think the best we will ever be as a society is in the past, what hope is there for the future? I think we all want to live well, to feel safe, to be hopeful. There’s a way forward, but we have to choose to go there together, none of us can make the world on our own.
