For the past few months, nearly thirty communities around the country have been anxiously awaiting an announcement from the Pentagon concerning the military bases that would be affected by the planned drawdown of 40,000 active-duty Army personnel, plus another 17,000 or so civilian employees. Local news outlets have been filling in the details as they become available. Some communities, including Leesville, Louisiana (Fort Polk), and northern New York (Fort Drum) are breathing a “sigh of relief.” Others, in Georgia (Fort Benning) and Alaska (Joint Base Elmendorf-Richardson), are crying foul.
Sen. Johnny Isakson (R-GA) seems especially peeved. “I am demanding answers from the Department of Defense on how they are justifying these troop cuts in Georgia,” Isakson said. And, in the meantime, he plans to block the nomination of a “new congressional liaison for the Department of Defense in light of the Department’s failure to give Congress a heads up before these cuts were made public.”
This is what defense consolidation looks like without the formality and relative transparency of the Base Realignment and Closure (BRAC) process.
I am in the midst of a major research project studying the effects of military spending cuts on local communities. With the help of my excellent research assistant, Connor Ryan, I am looking at some familiar cases, such as San Francisco’s Presidio and Monterey’s Fort Ord, and some that are more obscure (e.g. Portsmouth, New Hampshire’s Pease AFB). I’m also writing about some bases closed before BRAC (e.g. Frankford Arsenal in Philadelphia; the Springfield Arsenal in Massachusetts; and Dow AFB in Bangor, Maine), and some facilities that were privately owned and operated, but that grew primarily by supplying products to the military (including the Tredegar Iron Works in Richmond, Virginia; and DuPont’s Eleutherian Mills in Wilmington, Delaware). The project aims to go beyond studying the economic effects predicted and observed by economists (e.g. here and here), but to also get a feel for the history of each place, what it built, or how it fit into the nation’s defenses, and, ultimately, each facility’s denouement. To oversimplify: “How’s it goin’?”
My preliminary conclusions, after having visited about half of the places that I plan to study (and I will visit all of them), is that communities do adapt and recover, some more quickly than others, and many emerge after the transition period with a robust and more diversified economic base. In other words, the resources once directed toward the military do eventually find their way to more productive uses.