Claybourn: Exodus, erosion and the unraveling of rural America

Rural America is emptying out. Over the past decade, nearly three-quarters of U.S. counties have watched their prime-age populations — those between 25 and 54 — shrink dramatically.

Data from the U.S. Census Bureau, analyzed by the Economic Innovation Group, shows an unmistakable trend: prime working years are no longer being spent in small towns, but elsewhere. From coast to coast, across the heartland where farming, manufacturing, and small-town life once thrived, the numbers tell a stark story.

This isn’t just a migration — it’s an exodus.

The draw of opportunity, wealth and cultural vibrancy has never been stronger in the big cities and their surrounding suburbs.

And why not? If you’re young and want a shot at economic mobility, you don’t stay in a county with one grocery store, no hospital, and two factories long past their prime. You go where the jobs are, where there’s an art gallery down the street and where schools still get funding for things like music and the arts.

But that’s not the whole story. This mass migration, these patterns of people leaving their hometowns, doesn’t just signal the end of opportunity in rural America — it also speaks to a cultural shift. There was once a time when staying in one’s hometown was a badge of honor. A time when rootedness, even if it meant modest ambition, was considered virtuous.

Now, it feels like the culture has flipped. To stay is to stagnate; to leave is to succeed. The draw of the urban landscape, even with its own problems — skyrocketing rents, crumbling infrastructure, the soullessness of the corporate tech world — seems irresistible.

The deeper question we have to grapple with is what happens to those left behind. What happens to the small towns and counties where the best and brightest no longer feel a sense of belonging, let alone obligation? You can see the economic cost in the shrinking tax bases, the closure of local schools, and the collapse of small businesses.

But there’s also a moral cost. We’ve become a society that devalues the quiet dignity of local life, the simplicity of community. It’s as if the heart of the country is being hollowed out, its roots severed from the very soil that once nurtured them.

Even the concept of “home” is changing. What used to be a fixed point — a place of comfort and identity — has become more transient. The ties that once bound people to their hometowns have loosened, frayed by economic necessity and the allure of modernity.

As a result, rural America now faces a cultural erosion as much as an economic one. These places, once strongholds of tradition and family, are increasingly becoming empty landscapes, full of memories but devoid of their future generations. This is not just about numbers; it’s about the fading heartbeat of entire communities.

In some ways, this was inevitable. Economic forces move faster than sentiment, and technological change doesn’t pause for nostalgia.

But I can’t help but think that something’s been lost.

When people leave these counties, they aren’t just looking for better pay or a trendy neighborhood — they’re turning away from an entire way of life. And soon, that way of life may be gone for good.

And then what? Do we shrug our shoulders and let it happen, or do we fight for a different future? A future where not every dream requires a relocation, where small towns are still vibrant places to live, and where the allure of the city doesn’t eclipse the quiet importance of rural life?

The data isn’t just a snapshot of demographic change — it’s a portrait of our national soul. And it’s telling us we’re in danger of losing more than just population. We’re losing our sense of place.

Joshua Claybourn is an attorney and author in Evansville. Visit him online at JoshuaClaybourn.com.

This article originally appeared on Evansville Courier & Press: Claybourn: Exodus, erosion and the unraveling of rural America