The surface stability of the Foothills Corridor is deceptive. Sidewalks gleam under fresh concrete, parks buzz with activity, and the labor market, on paper, appears steady. But beneath the appearances, the region's foundation remains brittle — weakened by decades of industrial erosion, external dependency, and civic drift. The nature of the business cycle is that another economic shock is not a question of if, but a matter of when. Most likely, when it arrives, it will not be as tumultuous as the economic collapse of 2008, nor will it paralyze like the 2020 pandemic; it will seep quietly into the bones of the economy, exposing every fault line that decades of cosmetic improvements have failed to heal. Unless serious groundwork is laid now, the next disruption will not simply test the region — it will unravel it.
Most likely, the next economic disruption facing the Foothills will not resemble the shocks of the past. We found new normals after the 2008 Financial Crisis and again after the Covid pandemic in 2020–21. Main Street America didn’t see sustained growth during Barack Obama’s or Joe Biden’s presidencies. We found settlings. The economy settled into a low-growth mode. The economy is so tied up by the national debt and stifling government policies that it has been teetering just above recession for years.
The next recession won’t be triggered by subprime mortgages or pandemic shutdowns, but by the accelerating forces of automation, artificial intelligence, and global realignment. Industries that still rely heavily on manual labor — logistics, warehousing, retail services — will be the first to feel the strain, as corporations consolidate operations and eliminate costs. Meanwhile, distant economic centers will rewire supply chains to favor proximity and efficiency, bypassing regions like Hickory that have failed to invest deeply in advanced infrastructure and human capital. Without strong local ownership of innovation and workforce development, the Foothills will find itself sidelined — not by catastrophe, but by quiet obsolescence.
The Foothills Corridor is particularly vulnerable to the coming disruption because the region has not addressed its deepest structural weaknesses. Much of the local economy remains anchored in logistics hubs, fulfillment centers, and retail-driven employment — sectors that offer few protections against automation or economic centralization. Besides, people who don’t have incomes won’t be spending money. When these workers are laid off, it will cause a cascading effect just like it did in 2008. The shock of 2020 was different — a quick jolt that we recovered from — because businesses adapted, and service industries were designated essential workers.
One issue in our area is that true infrastructure investment has lagged behind the needs of a modern workforce, while regional cooperation remains fragmented by outdated rivalries between towns that cannot survive alone. Ride Interstate 40 heading toward Raleigh, and you’ll see where major infrastructure investment is happening. Look at Interstates 73 and 74 rising through the center of the state. And of course, Charlotte’s development has been the behemoth shaping our broader region. Meanwhile, the Catawba River — our region’s lifeblood — is increasingly strained by Charlotte’s unfettered growth, yet no cohesive strategy has emerged to safeguard its long-term health. Perhaps most dangerously, the region’s talent pipeline is fractured; too many young people leave for opportunities elsewhere, and too few are being trained to lead a modernized local economy. Without decisive action, the Foothills will not merely experience disruption — it will absorb it without the civic muscle to respond.
Collapse in the Foothills will not arrive with a single catastrophic event. It will creep in slowly, dissolving the structures that once held the region together. So many businesses that once anchored our neighborhoods have already closed. We have seen the impact on local business firsthand. People still try to open new ventures, but it has gotten harder and harder to compete against mega-corporations and their economies of scale. Public services — schools, healthcare facilities, infrastructure maintenance — will suffer under shrinking tax bases and rising demands, leading to a cycle of deferred repairs and diminishing quality.
Young workers, already scarce, will accelerate their exit, taking their skills and civic energy with them. Ballfields will remain perfectly manicured but empty; community facilities will sit idle until they are mothballed; and the neighborhoods that surround the shuttered factories will fall further into blight. Without intervention, what remains will not be a sudden ruin, but a slow surrender — a region that, having lost its resilience, simply fades into oblivion.
In the history of human existence, there have always been good and bad economic times. Sometimes it is societal and cultural complacency that leads to a structural malaise; other times it is a Black Swan event. Bad political governance generally leads to those long, grinding declines, while Black Swan events tend to be short-term shocks that economies can survive if resilience is strong.
The Foothills Corridor can still change its long-term trajectory, but it will require action that moves beyond appearances. Regional unity must be built intentionally, with a common economic vision that scales resources and talent rather than divides them. We must coordinate, because unlike the major metros, we do not have millions of people stacked on top of each other. We must support local businesses. Local ownership — of businesses, infrastructure, and innovation — must be prioritized over short-term outside investment. Outside corporations extract our resources for the benefit of distant headquarters and Wall Street investors. Their goal is to minimize the labor dollar to inflate their balance sheets — not to build resilient communities here.
Investments in workforce training must focus on equipping young residents for emerging industries, not simply preserving yesterday’s job categories. Natural assets like the Catawba River must be treated as strategic lifelines, protected and integrated into long-term regional planning. Civic pride must be rekindled through real accomplishments, not through slogans and branding campaigns. The next shock is coming. Those who prepare will survive and thrive. Those who continue to polish the surface while ignoring the foundation will soon find there is nothing left to stand on.
Top-Down or Bottom-Up - Friday, February 5, 2010
Foothills Digest - Fox & Hound Article - Winter 2018 - Saturday, September 14, 2019
Less Water, More Risk - October 2017 - Brookings Institute -Joseph Kane
Tags: Economic Collapse, Foothills Corridor, Regional Economic Resilience, Small Town Economy, Hickory North Carolina, Rural Economic Development, Infrastructure Challenges, Community Resilience, Economic Warning Signs, Southern Growth Corridor
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