Vermont 2020: A Clear Look into Our Future

by Rick Foley

Imagine that the whole world is abuzz with the story of our state's unprecedented secession from the United States. We first hinted at “divorce” during our 2007 annual town meetings by voting in favor (208 of 216 towns) of a non-binding “Independence Resolution”. Then we got serious, lobbying for a statewide referendum option for binding resolutions. In January of 2008, we passed the “Secession Resolution” by an impressive majority. The legislature wrestled with the nuances of recognizing both the U.S. and Vermont Constitutions, but that summer the general assembly finally called for a state convention to decide the issue. After an intense four-month “conversation” that made the heated debate on civil unions look like a WWF sweat fest, the 268 delegates, on January 15, 2008, delivered a two-thirds-plus majority decision to secede.

To make a long, improbable story short and sweet—the legal briefs alone would fill the entire fourth basement level of the U.S. Justice Department—the combination of spontaneous global outcry (“If the U.S. is so democratic, then why can't a state democratically secede?”), formal international support for regional sovereignty (most notably the United Nations, Fourth World Congress, and the European Union), and the intense, bitter 2008 U.S. presidential contest (Condoleeza versus Hiliary) completely compromised the U.S. government. The incensed speeches in Congress spurred CNN's highest ratings since “Shock and Awe,” but neither the Republican nor Democratic parties wanted to officially play the “bad guy” role during an election year. The administration settled for Cheney's “Good riddance, let ‘em go f*** themselves!” At this crucial juncture the Supreme Court stepped up to the plate despite the lack of prerequisite political guidance. It heard testimony well into 2009, when it rendered a murky 5-4 decision that encouraged Congress to amend the Constitution to either allow/disallow secession and/or impose restitution.

Bottom line: Vermont more or less simply walked out on April 15, 2008. Certain senators threatened “tanks on the interstate” and “hordes of IRS agents.” Bush assured his fellow Americans that the Vermont experiment would blow over within a few months. “Let us forgive them as prodigious sons and daughters who learned a valuable lesson. They made the mistake of trusting the tyranny of elected officials.”

As astute observers noted, the real story wasn't the Vermont secession battle, but how this small, fledgling political entity would survive economically. For most Vermonters the big worry was where we would get our stuff—the endless list starting with food, gas, cars, heating oil, and toilet paper. And what about our jobs, especially those juicy federal postings? And Social Security and Medicare, the ultimate safety nets?

The “stuff” question evaporated on April 16, 2008, when the U.S. Border Patrol, stationed at hastily constructed border crossings on I-91, I-89, Route 7, and a smattering of secondary roads, simply waved through most traffic. Give multinational corporations credit. They called the shots in Washington. Business-as-usual trumped minor legal issues like national boundaries. Go figure.

The federal jobs scare talk went the way of the fears around the civil-union issue. No one got screwed over, and in fact “Montpelier” (our name for the Second Vermont Republic government) has performed extremely well compared to Washington. U.S. federal jobs morphed into Vermont federal jobs. Vermont's Postal Service delivered Social Security checks without skipping a beat. Dual US/VT citizens found that VT Universal Healthcare provided better service, less paperwork, and lower prescription costs than the U.S. semi-equivalent.

Now for the serious stuff. The more predatory side of the global economy forced us Vermonters to work together to maintain and then strengthen our economy without floating debilitating international loans and pissing off multinational retailers. First, we removed ourselves from the NAFTA/CAFTA-style agreements and their international corporations' rule-the-world arrogance. Then we took a history lesson to heart. The American Colonists rebelled against King George largely because His Highness Himself, His military, His Governors and His Parliament granted Royal corporations monopoly status and favored treatment, especially tax breaks. Colonial businesses couldn't compete with the East India Company. That's what “taxation without representation” was all about. We restored the Republic of Vermont's Charters of Incorporation and the original intent: serve the public good (make money honestly) or take a hike (we revoke your charter). Goodbye U.S. model of corporate personhood privileges (Wal-Mart, Home Depot, Entergy, et al.) and welcome socially responsible business folks and financiers (local retail outlet, distributor, manufacturer) to a level playing field.

Our third trick dealt with money. At first we stuck with the Greenback to make the transition smooth for our consumers and international markets, but by 2010 we had launched 27 local currencies (with kitschy names like Manchester Monies, Bennington Ethans, Burlington Bread, and Rutland Chips) to stimulate local economies. How local currencies work was a mystery to most folks back in 2005, but we quickly caught on to the benefits of basing our money on something more tangible than faith in the solvency of the U.S. Treasury. Our gold standard combined trees (the increasing value of our nation's private and public sustainable harvests) and trust in the value of our neighbors' contributions (products and services at a $15/hour rate). By 2012 these local currencies traded one-to-one with the new national median of exchange, the Vermont Buck. The Buck is now recognized across the world—with the exception of China, the OPEC nations, and the U.S. Surprised?

So how are we doing? Turned out that both “original Vermonters” (residents of the former State — there's some irony here) and an influx of immigrants (predominantly disaffected US citizens, as well as many “Brits,” some well-heeled Pakistanis and Indians, and three-quarters of the town of Killington) had access to significant monies, which they invested in renewable energy, organic farming, the forest-products industry, and innovative software and manufacturing startups. Like bees to honey. The hive is thriving, thank you.

By 2010 Vermont had established a strategy-planning process for a “sustainable economic future”—the number-one priority identified by the second national referendum in 2008. Montpelier itself bonded a wide range of major public-works projects: purchase of the nine hydroelectric dams on the Connecticut and Deerfield rivers, Vermont Universal Healthcare, penal reform (that's a stunner of a story), a national high-speed digital communications system, and the controversial FisherCat transportation system.

Don't get me started. I'm a FisherCat fan. Yeah, some people run around in it “naked” (no passenger or cargo body), but it is versatile. It can be configured as an automobile, SUV, camper, truck, and tractor (not exactly a tractor, but tractor-ATV cross-breed). And it can be “autotrained” — attached convoy-style for commuting, great gas mileage, and minimal driving effort. And what's the alternative? The automobile? Get real. Gas from OPEC at $6/gallon? Where else can you burn domestic biodiesel in a hybrid diesel/electric power plant, get 78 mpg, and four-wheel drive in one package?

One thing all Vermonters agree on is that Montpelier transformed the looming financial liabilities of restitution to the Abenakis into a win-win situation when it transferred ownership of the hydroelectric dams to the Abenakis and related tribes. The Original People (the formal title all the tribes have agreed to share) have responded to the challenge of managing the dams with a thoroughness and sensitivity that have stunned both traditional Vermont Yankee types and New Agers. Neither group has been spared in the OP's push for energy conservation, efficiency, and sustainability, especially wind turbines on private and national lands. Despite the backlash (some of us refer to the OP leadership's attitude as “more-sustainable-than-thou”), we do acknowledge the wisdom of trading some of our sacred cows—those cheesy electric appliances, electron-devouring hybrid SUVs, and, most painfully, hair driers (the single most important variable in determining peak load)—in return for reasonable electric rates and investments in local energy sources.

By 2015, Montpelier reached some notable international and U.S. benchmarks: the Vermont Buck trades at 1 Euro even and $1.27 U.S., the 2014 Kyoto Protocol Award (carbon-neutral by 2018, based largely on hydroelectricity, wood pellet/waste cogeneration, biodiesel and cow-powered methane), highest number of LEED-certified building awards per building starts in North America, CAFE standard equivalent of 60 mpg (thanks largely to FisherCats), exports exceeding imports for the first time since 1847 (a little spin-off from the 2008 rejection of NAFTA and CAFTA), 85 percent energy independence, 98 percent GMO-free, Fifteenth annual International Indigenous Peoples Award. And we're #3 in overall standard-of-living, behind Switzerland and Monaco. Not too shabby.

Equally impressive are some odds and ends from our Montpelier bean-counters:

• 97 percent of Vermont's spring and naturally impounded waters are safe to drink.
• 65 percent of all our food travels less than 120 miles from producer to consumer ( the U.S. average for all foods is 1500 miles) thanks to the computerized Farm Fresh program that we've convinced our New England neighbors to plug in.
• 72 percent of all food consumed in Vermont carries an organic or free-trade label.
• 93 percent of Vermont's hardwoods carry the “sustainable harvest” certification.
• 55 percent of imported construction lumber has been replaced by a growing (yes, growing) source of graded, kiln-dried native hemlock and locust.
• 86 percent of all businesses hold the VESSA “Fancy” or “Grade A” stickers for livable wages, union representation, or employee ownership. (We'll talk more about VESSA.)
• Vermont now ranks second only to Denmark in facilities energy efficiency, thanks to a gift from Uncle Sam. When Montpelier settled out of court for $500 million from the United States over the Clear Sky program's exacerbation of the acid-rain problem, the OP leadership wisely pressured the legislature to invest the 2011 “windfall” in domestic manufacturing—windows, photovoltaic roofing, solar hot water, and energy/communications systems. That's where the whole VAST (Vermont Appropriate Sustainable Technologies) concept started.

Now there's an old saying about statistics and liars, but we Vermonters are proud of these figures. Vermont ranks first in North America for student-to-teacher ratio (13:1, not counting paraprofessionals). And get this: 74 percent of all young Vermonters (under 30 years old) hold at least an Associates degree; 47 percent a Baccalaureate. Why? By law, all Vermont residents ages 18–21 must serve two years in the Vermont Guard (military/rescue, community action, and civil projects options) in return for tuition and room & board for two years of post-secondary study. And even if some of our young folks go south or across the pond to school, most come back home by the time they are ready to settle down. No brain-drain up our way.

The political landscape? As eye pleasing and productive as our little country's pastoral countryside and bustling villages. All national offices and banks are now closed on Town Meeting Day. And typical town operating budgets have tripled since close to 80 percent of our national taxes (formerly personal and corporate IRS assessments) are expended on the local level. For instance, Brattleboro's budget jumped from $11.1 million in 2005 to $34.6 in 2015, adjusted for inflation. Attendance at town meetings has skyrocketed while acrimonious debates over bare-bone budgets, common to the 20th century, have evolved into responsible decision-making related to “discretionary” investments in community infrastructure.

Two recent examples made the headlines this year. The town of Vernon signed on with the OPs to upgrade the local hydroelectric dam from 28 to 44 megawatts and install a state-of-the-art electrolysis facility to convert the low value of excessive generation during spring runoff into hydrogen fuel. Remember the hype around the hydrogen economy? What a fizzle. Kind of like the Bush push to “nuke it up” just before Vermont pulled out. Well, the OPs have recycled the former Vermont Yankee nuclear plant site and they now dispense the H-pods that are rapidly replacing the old propane tanks. That's 140 new jobs when you count the consulting engineers who are exporting the technology. Time called it “The New Watershed.”

Almost forgot about Montpelier. Of course, most people on the planet know Montpelier as the “lab” (think tank, really) that bestows the VESSA label—Vermont Elders Sustainable Seal of Approval — on internationally traded products or services. Whether you want to launch a new item or take your 20th-century brand into the new millennium, you gotta get the VESSA “chop.” Remember when your toaster was UL approved? Remember when laptop meant IBM or Dell? Cell phones, Nokia or Motorola? Now it's Macintosh's AppleSeeds (VESSA).

Back to our Capital Crown Jewel. We all recognize the Capital's golden dome nestled down in the valley. But have you seen for yourself the so-called “ambassador effect.” It's like a magic wand from that reality TV show Queer Eye for the Ranch House swept through town. Forty-five countries now reside in spiffed-up Victorians or reincarnated factory compounds. Dozens more have fancy offices. The hospitality industry has gone bonkers. Montpelier claims to have as many bed and breakfasts as Dublin, as many culinary choices as San Francisco. Talk about happening. Can you believe that folks from Burlington, the Geneva of North America, travel down to Montpelier for a night out?

And then there's the global demand for Vermont cachet. Forget maple syrup. Now it's our postage stamps, flags, Vermont Guard uniforms (very trendy in 24 unisex styles), and a long list of VAST Made-in-Vermont products. I won't even mention the export sales of 1,500 FisherCats to Nepal next year. Or what the word is from certain members of the Russian embassy.

Most telling perhaps is that after years of being referred to, in a PC sort of way, as the Second Vermont Republic, or more openly, “Cuba North” and “them-dumb-shits,” most folks, even on Fox News, simply refer to us as “Vermont.” And everyone knows that we're a sovereign nation. It's almost like we were never anything but Vermont—independent, democratic, tolerant, compassionate, always a little ahead of the curve. And a bit ornery.