even local stakeholders prey on their own communities
Title: The Quiet Cannibalization of Local Economies
How Exploitative Networks and Global Capitalism Prey on Their Own
Beneath the veneer of economic vibrancy in local communities like Vernon lies a more insidious reality: an entrenched oligarchy that operates under the guise of small-business entrepreneurship but functions as a series of local monopolies. These businesses, though seemingly local, are no longer serving the community. Instead, they exist in symbiosis with foreign capitalists who are economically merciless and strategically manipulative, leveraging these "bodega-like" operations as proxies for their broader imperialist ambitions in local economies.
The authoritarian influence on local elites isn’t just some external force bullying them into compliance; it’s more subtle, more pervasive. These local players are willingly “pegged” by systems of power, choosing ignorance—perhaps because it’s easier than confronting the realities that someone who has traveled even a little bit can clearly see. They don’t just ignore the red flags; they actively participate in maintaining them, clinging to outdated structures and rejecting the possibility of reform or progress. It’s as if the very authority that controls them provides some sense of comfort—a comfort rooted in routine exploitation that goes unchallenged.
There’s an unspoken paradox here—one that reflects a subtle yet pervasive form of economic predation. On one hand, local business owners, often framed as small-scale entrepreneurs, employ exploitative tactics on their own communities. Yet they, too, are subordinated to a larger international capitalist machine—an economic oligarchy with no allegiance to local welfare or sustainable development. These "cartel-like" entities, operating in the guise of free-market competition, perpetuate a cycle where short-term profit margins are prioritized over the long-term health of the community. The question is not simply one of competition, but of systemic exploitation. How do we reconcile local business pride with the reality that they are cogs in a much larger, unfeeling machine?
Global capitalism, particularly in the neoliberal era, has engineered an economic framework where even local stakeholders prey on their own communities
this is to maintain relevance in an international market that rewards extreme measures.
Whether it’s property speculation, wage suppression, or leveraging legal loopholes, local businesses often mimic the ruthless tactics of their foreign counterparts. Their survival depends on exploiting their immediate surroundings—pricing out the local community, underpaying labor, and relying on crony capitalism that stifles true competition.
But the most egregious issue is not simply local exploitation—it’s the larger, structural reality that these business owners themselves are caught in. Global capitalists, whether from multinational real estate firms or powerful foreign investors, have created economic systems that dominate local markets, leaving small businesses with few options but to comply or be consumed. The foreign capital that flows into Vernon’s economic veins isn’t benign; it systematically extracts wealth while leaving the very infrastructure of the town eroded and dependent on external forces. This is the quiet cannibalization of local economies.
It’s clear to anyone who has stepped outside their own local sphere for even a brief time—those who travel, who encounter different cultures, governments, and economic systems—that the dynamics we see at play in small-town politics and economics are a microcosm of a much larger global issue. But it’s also glaringly obvious that many local power structures, especially in places like Vernon, are entirely insulated from this broader perspective. It’s like they’re operating under a self-imposed blindness, a form of submission to authority so profound that it feels like they’re complicit in their own subjugation.
When you travel, you see the same systems playing out elsewhere, often with more clarity than those trapped within them can. It becomes blatantly obvious how out of touch certain local authorities are, especially in places where economic stagnation and cronyism are the norm. You can visit other regions or countries and see where local economies thrive through innovation, where democratic engagement is meaningful, and where communities take active roles in shaping their futures rather than passively accepting the status quo.
For example, compare the entrepreneurial spirit in cities like Austin or Berlin, where the local economy thrives because it nurtures innovation and challenges old norms, to towns where entrenched interests suffocate growth. Travel shows you how flexible and adaptive cities with forward-thinking governance can be, and it becomes laughable to see local elites back home fumble around with antiquated ideas and self-serving policies. These local players behave as though they’ve got something figured out when, in reality, their ignorance and complicity are on full display for anyone who has taken a step outside their narrow worldview.
At its core, this system reflects a form of internalized colonialism—a scenario where local actors become both victims and perpetrators. Business owners, often limited by the same economic pressures they impose on others, become enforcers of the very systems that oppress them. Their complicity in raising rents, cutting wages, or denying basic labor rights is not simply a personal failing but a consequence of a market designed to strip resources from the local and redistribute them to global elites.
This willful ignorance—this “pegging” by authority—is what allows local systems to persist in their dysfunction. You can see it in the way local leaders cling to old boys’ clubs, treating any criticism or suggestion of reform as an existential threat. It’s as if the idea of questioning the power structures they’ve attached themselves to would cause them to unravel. Rather than embrace the possibility of improvement or innovation, they double down on the old ways, comforting themselves in their own ignorance, unaware that the world has moved on.
But it’s more than just ignorance—it’s an active rejection of knowledge, experience, and insight. Anyone who has traveled, who has seen how other systems work, understands how far behind these local actors are. They reject the lessons learned from outside perspectives because those perspectives are threatening. It’s easier to pretend that they’re in control, that their way is the right way, even as they allow themselves to be subordinated by larger economic forces they don’t even fully understand.
This is a bifurcated system of exploitation, where the top-level players are foreign conglomerates wielding enormous economic power, while the local layer—though outwardly autonomous—is entrapped in a zero-sum game. The failure of local governance, often captured by the very elites benefiting from these structures, leaves little recourse for meaningful change. Regulatory bodies, while ostensibly meant to ensure fairness, are instead co-opted to maintain this uneven distribution of power, ensuring that economic policies serve the interests of the most powerful, both locally and globally.
This dynamic isn’t confined to Vernon. It’s emblematic of a broader global trend, from the bodegas and small shops of urban America to the rural hinterlands of Canada. Local oligarchs mimic the strategies of foreign capital, while at the same time being ruthlessly dominated by it. The sharp rise in housing costs, the hollowing out of main streets, and the slow erosion of community wealth are all symptoms of this larger economic malaise.
What we see in these local leaders is a kind of existential crisis. They know, at some level, that they are not the true power players. They are acutely aware of their own subjugation to larger systems—be it corporate interests, national political structures, or global economic forces. But rather than fight against that, they find comfort in it. It allows them to play their role without having to challenge the real power dynamics at play. It’s safer to remain in the dark, to stay in the fold, to be “pegged” by the authority they secretly know controls them.
This isn’t ignorance born of innocence. It’s deliberate. It’s willful. It’s an abandonment of responsibility, all while masquerading as leadership. And anyone with even a small amount of travel experience, who has seen how communities elsewhere manage to push back against this kind of control, can see right through it.
The more significant issue, however, is what this says about the future of local governance and democracy. Can a town like Vernon, or any local community for that matter, push back against such ingrained forces without radical reform? And more importantly, can local stakeholders extricate themselves from this internalized economic abuse before it’s too late?
If Vernon—and communities like it—are to survive and thrive, they must radically reimagine their economic and regulatory frameworks. This means confronting the dual exploitation at play: local complicity in short-sighted economic practices and the far more dangerous influence of global capital that demands ever more aggressive measures. Without intervention, Vernon may become another hollowed-out town, where local stakeholders have sold their birthright for temporary profit, leaving nothing but a shell for future generations….hmmm this sounds familiar doesn’t it?
The real tragedy is that these local power players don’t have to be stuck in this loop of submission. They could learn from what’s happening elsewhere. They could take cues from regions where governance actually serves the people, where innovation thrives because leaders understand the need to adapt and grow. But that would require humility. It would mean acknowledging that they’ve been wrong, that their ignorance has harmed the community, and that there’s a better way. For those who have traveled, who have seen the alternatives, the solution is obvious. For those stuck in the cycle of willful ignorance, it’s almost unfathomable.
The world is full of examples of communities that have faced similar challenges and found ways to rise above them. But as long as local leaders remain content to be pegged by the same old power structures, content to gag themselves and pretend this is what leadership looks like, real change will remain out of reach. And the rest of us, those who have seen better, will watch in both horror and dark amusement as they fumble their way through, wondering how long it will take before the system collapses under the weight of its own absurdity.
In truth, the fix is not simple. It requires the dismantling of crony capitalism, rigorous enforcement of anti-fuck-around laws, and an economic vision that prioritizes the public good over private gain. Only then can we stop the slow cannibalization of our local economies and restore the true purpose of local enterprise—to serve the people.
