Vermont is facing a fundamental choice between two divergent futures: one that leans into urbanization to grow its tax base, and another that preserves its rural character by asking the state’s wealthiest residents to shoulder a larger share of the financial burden. This tension centers on the survival of local schools, which many residents view as the essential heartbeat of small communities.
In a letter to the editor, Barbara McKay of North Ferrisburgh argues that the peace, beauty, and “human scale” that attract wealthy homeowners and tourists to Vermont are products of generations of land-based labor. She suggests that since these amenities are luxuries in the modern world, those who benefit most from them should pay to maintain the rural infrastructure—specifically education—that keeps these communities from withering.
The struggle to save rural schools
While the need for property tax relief is acute, many rural residents resist merging schools, fearing that losing a local campus effectively kills the community it serves. The pressure to lower taxes often leads to a crossroads: attract more employers and people to urbanize the state, or strengthen existing small towns through progressive taxation.
McKay points to the philosophy of the late Wendell Berry, noting that forcing children to abandon their authentic local culture in favor of a modernized, urban-mandated educational model leaves rural lands “open to exploitation, and ultimately destruction, from the center.” This perspective frames rural education not just as a budgetary line item, but as a bulwark against the erasure of local identity.
We need a radically different understanding of what educational equity looks like for rural people; our communities have been sacrificed at an urban-mandated altar for too long. The gods of the valleys are not the gods of the hills.
The quote, attributed to Megan Durling in the original commentary, highlights a growing frustration with “one-size-fits-all” policies designed in city centers that fail to account for the geographic and social realities of the hills.
The fear of wealthy flight
A common counter-argument to increasing taxes on high-net-worth individuals is the risk of “capital flight”—the idea that the wealthy will simply move their residency to a lower-tax jurisdiction. However, McKay argues this fear is baseless, suggesting that those who choose Vermont do so specifically for the qualities that only a well-preserved rural environment can provide.
To support this, she draws a parallel to New York City. Despite the campaign of Mayor Zohran Mamdani, which was met with similar warnings that the elite would flee the city due to policy shifts, the wealthy have largely stayed put. In some cases, the city has even seen an influx of high-net-worth individuals who are willing to pay for the specific amenities and cultural energy that New York offers.
The logic is simple: if the “product” being sold is the tranquility and authenticity of rural Vermont, the people who value that product most are the ones most likely to pay a premium to ensure it doesn’t disappear.
Vermont weighs tax growth against rural character
The “so what” of this debate reaches far beyond the classroom.
The trade-off—trading spaciousness and freedom from industrial pollution for a larger tax base—is a bargain they are unwilling to make. The alternative is a conscious decision to treat rurality as a luxury good, funded by those who can most afford to protect it.
The tension remains: does Vermont want to be a state that grows by becoming more like the cities its residents are fleeing, or a state that survives by redefining who pays for the privilege of its peace?
