Hindsight Isn’t 20/20 – It’s a Community Failure

Growth is not the problem; it’s disengagement when decisions are being made

10:55 p.m. Dec. 15, 2025

It’s easy to aim our frustration at elected officials. They’re the ones holding the votes, sitting behind the table, and signing off on projects that now have much of the county asking, How did this happen?

But if we’re being honest, this isn’t just a leadership problem. It’s a community problem.

Moore County didn’t end up with the anaerobic digester or the solar farm by accident. The tiny-home community and the apartment complex didn’t just appear, either. These decisions happened in public meetings, with posted agendas, open discussion, and recorded votes – often in front of empty seats.

For years, the pattern has been the same: light public attendance, heavy public trust, and a widespread assumption that elected officials had all the answers and were acting squarely in the county’s best interest.

Then the impacts arrived. Then the inconvenience followed. Then the frustration boiled over. And only then did many people start paying attention.

When One Employer Changes the Conversation

What makes the digester and the solar farm especially complicated – and uncomfortable to talk about – is who benefits. Jack Daniel Distillery benefits.

That fact alone changes the dynamic in Moore County. A lot of paychecks here are signed by Jack. A lot of mortgages, grocery bills, and college tuitions depend on being able to say, I work for Jack.

Because of that, many residents made a quiet calculation: better not ask too many questions, better not rock the boat, better not risk being seen as “against” something tied – directly or indirectly – to the distillery.

That hesitation is understandable. It’s also consequential.

Economic dependence often quiets civic engagement. When one employer anchors a community, staying silent can feel safer than speaking up. Fewer people attend meetings. Objections become softer. Tough questions go unasked – not because people don’t have them, but because they don’t want their name attached to them.

So projects move forward with little resistance. People accept assurances at face value. The county mistakes quiet rooms for consensus.

Silence Feels Safer Than Scrutiny

But silence isn’t agreement. It’s fear that looks like comfort.

By the time concerns come up about truck traffic, odors, stormwater runoff, creek impacts, or road damage, approvals are already in place. The horse is, as it were, out of the barn.

Then officials are left managing the fallout rather than making informed decisions, and the public wonders why it feels like the rules are changing after the game has started.

The tiny-home community and the apartment complex showed the same weakness in different ways. Growth moved faster than the county’s rules, but instead of asking for stronger guidelines before approvals, most people stayed disengaged until it was clear the current rules weren’t enough.

We expect elected officials to act in the collective interest. That expectation only works if the collective participates – especially when powerful economic interests are involved. When we don’t show up, decision-making defaults to whoever is willing to speak – your best interests be damned.

Complaining afterward may be justified, but it’s incomplete. If your first engagement with a project is when it disrupts your routine, then the moment for influence has already passed.

This Isn’t Anti-Business – It’s Pro-Responsibility

This isn’t an argument against Jack Daniel Distillery, Silicon Ranch, 3Rivers, the Retreat at Whiskey Creek, or the Gateway Companies. It’s an argument against complacency.

Moore County can value its largest employer and still ask tough questions. It can support economic stability without giving up civic responsibility. These things aren’t mutually exclusive – but acting like they are has cost us real oversight.

This is what happens when a community stays quiet because speaking up feels risky.

Until that changes, we’ll keep ending up in the same place: surprised, frustrated, and asking questions we didn’t ask when it mattered.

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