A modest proposal for Iowa
We Iowans tend to dig in when outsiders try to tell us what to do, and we know a good deal when we see one.

Lately, it has been exceedingly hard to miss that the Iowa Caucuses aren't, not to put too fine a point on it, universally popular.
Those who believe Iowa shouldn’t go first point to the overwhelming whiteness of the state, the overwhelming rurality of the state, the overwhelmingly older population of the state. Those who dislike the caucus format argue that the system is anti-democratic, a form of voter suppression against those with children or jobs or disabilities; a deterrent to those who do not wish to publicly share their vote and a logistical nightmare of finding locations to hold thousands of arguing activists.
Iowa is first because state law requires that we caucus before any other nominating process. New Hampshire is second because its state law says it must primary first, and Iowa doesn’t primary — the only place — if you believe the wailing from opinion pieces in national media. If Iowa switches from a caucus to a primary, New Hampshire’s primary has to move earlier so that it remains first. We could get caught up in a race of leapfrog, each state bouncing backward a week until the next primary takes place before the previous election. Or until the Supreme Court decides who gets to be very most firstest.
So, here we are: Iowa the first nominating contest, New Hampshire the first primary, and no one happy. Well, some people happy. In what other state are endorsements from local officials and activists so dearly sought after — or do nationally recognized politicians regularly endorse in local races? In what other state can a tiny diner be a nationally recognized, must-see political destination? What other snow-bound state boasts hotels stuffed with journalists and prominent national figures for the entire month of January?
And with out-of-staters howling for the end of Iowa’s primacy in the rudest possible terms, well, we aren’t likely to see the end of the First-In-The-Nation Caucus any time soon. We Iowans tend to dig in when outsiders try to tell us what to do, and we know a good deal when we see one.
Dear reader, we believe that we Iowans could find ways to deliberate with our neighbors in crowded gyms without presidential caucuses, but we know that the boost to our state’s economy, national profile, and pet issues would be terrible to give up. So we have an idea. We Iowans can give up the first-in-the-nation status in exchange for… wait for it… moving the nation’s capital to Des Moines.
Consider the benefits: Iowa would no longer endure attention from scornful coast-dwellers every four years. Perhaps we could even become the Landlocked Elites, scornful of those suckers dwelling by the rising seas. We could move to a ranked-choice primary system, avoid disenfranchising anyone, and let other states bicker over who should be anointed Most Reflective Of The U.S. As A Whole and therefore go first.
Washington, D.C., could finally become a state, change its license plates, and stop putting up with people constantly marching all over. (No problem for Des Moines; it should be well-prepared for all sorts of marching after this cycle’s parade of presidential candidates.) And no more jokes about Flyover Country when we are the physical heart and soul of the country.
It’s really not healthy or sensible for the capital of our country — once so centrally located among 13 states — to be as remote as Washington, D.C., can be. So just like the Iowa capital moved westward as the state’s population grew westward, we should finally move the capital of the United States to the heart of the country. Based on the scope of the media uproar over Iowa’s first-in-the-nation caucus over the past month, we’re confident that everyone from the New York Times to the L.A. Times will be on board, and we look forward to having the President ensconced in the Golden-Domed House by 2024.
Kelcey Patrick-Ferree and Shannon Patrick live in Iowa.
Originally published in the Iowa City Press-Citizen on February 7, 2020.