
Those of you who read my occasional commentaries know that I grew up in Arizona, went to school in California, and now live in Texas. To be frank, my personal geography makes it challenging to comment insightfully about what’s going on in Wisconsin. Sometimes, though, the distance is a blessing—and not just during the eight-month Wisconsin winter. No, sometimes being from somewhere else helps me see things that Wisconsinites themselves may not see as clearly.
One of those things is Wisconsin pride. In my home state of Arizona, we claim no distinction in being from Arizona, nor do we believe that there’s anything special about us or where we live. If you insult Arizona, we just shrug it off (unless you’re from New York City, in which case we simply say, “Scoreboard.”). After all, a huge number of us, including my family, moved to Arizona from elsewhere, and have deeper roots in those places than in the Grand Canyon State.
Wisconsinites, though—similar to Texans and Californians—give the impression that they’re part of something different, something better. I think that’s one of the reasons they embrace “cheesehead” culture rather than rejecting it as insulting. It’s their way of saying, “We can afford to laugh at ourselves. We know we’ve got a good thing going here.”
But do you really? (Please don’t throw shoes; I get paid to ask provocative rhetorical questions.) As part of a WPRI project on Wisconsin’s recent past and its prospects for the future, I’ve been collecting data related to the Badger State’s quality of life. I’ll let a selection of the numbers speak for themselves:
Between 2008 and 2009, Wisconsin saw a net loss of nearly 6,000 residents to other states. During this same time period, my home state of Arizona—despite its miserable economy and dire budget situation—enjoyed a net gain of more than 15,000 residents (not counting immigrants from other countries; you know, places like Sweden). My adopted state of Texas netted more than 143,000 individuals from elsewhere in the U.S.
When it comes to employment, Wisconsin is barely better than middle of the pack. Seventeen states have lower unemployment than Wisconsin’s 7.9% rate (as of June); three states have unemployment roughly the same as Wisconsin’s; and twenty-nine states have higher unemployment.
How about income? Wisconsin’s household income ranks 21st among states; its personal income per capita ranks 27th.
As an incubator for businesses, Wisconsin also fails to impress. Between 2003 and 2008, the state ranked 24th in terms of growth in the number of business start-ups.
Public education? Wisconsin’s eighth graders are in the fat part of the curve, not in the right-hand tail where you’d like them to be. Their 2009 math scores were below those of students in 8 other states, and roughly equal to those of students in 15 states. The 2009 reading scores were worse: 11 states performed better, and 20 states performed essentially the same. (This was not always the case. As recently as the 1990s, Wisconsin students’ test scores put the state in the first tier nationally, not the second tier, where it sits now.)
On matters of taxes, spending, and debt, here are a few representative measures: Wisconsin ranks 20th in per capita state/local tax burden (where a ranking of 1 indicates a higher tax burden); 26th on state/local per capita spending; and 28th on state/local debt per capita.
Percentage of adults with a college degree? Wisconsin ranks 28th. Infant mortality? Wisconsin is 27th. Homeownership rate? 26th. Economic growth? 27th. Religious service attendance? 33rd. Violent crime? 34th. (Lower is better on this one.)
Now, for the obligatory caveat: yes, I have accentuated the negative. There is plenty going right in Wisconsin, and I have not discussed that here. The point of this exercise, however, is not to celebrate what is good, but to challenge the public and policymakers to work on the things that could be better.
In the view of this outsider, there’s a great deal that could be better. Wisconsin in 2010 is a very ordinary state—no longer “elite,” or “first tier,” or “A list,” if ever it was. Rather, depending on the measure, it usually shows up in a very crowded second tier of states or in the undistinguished middle.
Fortunately, this situation can be turned around. In the very near future, WPRI scholars will be talking about exactly how to make that happen.
-August 10, 2010