The Gamble of Carpetbagging: Worth the Risk?
An exploration of the practice of carpetbagging and how it can be a make-or-break factor, especially in states with strong local identity.
A little while back, I introduced a concept I called “authenticity”—where voters choose a candidate who appears to truly understand their interests, their way of life, their culture.
It’s a bold claim: that authenticity -- however the individual voter measures it -- might carry more weight than other personal factors like charisma, scandal, or even political experience.
Authenticity, when the stakes are high, has the power to shift the course of elections. And under this “authenticity” umbrella, no issue is as stark, as divisive, or as consequential as carpetbagging—a phenomenon that occurs when a candidate with few roots in a state or district runs for office there, hoping to win over voters who might not see them as “one of us.”
Carpetbagging: The “Not One of Us” Problem
At its most basic, carpetbagging is when a candidate moves into a state or district where they have little to no real connection and runs for office there. Originating after the Civil War to describe Northern opportunists who moved South for political or economic gain, "carpetbagging" now refers to politicians running for office in a state where they lack strong local ties.
They often weren’t born there, didn’t grow up there, and haven’t spent years building ties within the local community. In many cases, they lack what voters would consider deep, authentic ties to the area. Instead, they might own a house there, be registered to vote there, or maybe even served in one of the state’s numerous political offices. But voters often interpret carpetbagging as a political move—a calculated, career-driven maneuver rather than a genuine connection to the area.
Carpetbagging is often politically dangerous because it tests that critical quality of authenticity. Voters want representatives who understand their state’s unique culture, values, and issues, and they can quickly recognize when a candidate’s connection is more symbolic than real.
In my last article on authenticity, I neglected to address carpetbagging both in my explanations, and in the elections I picked as case studies. But the ubiquity of carpetbagging—and the backlash that often follows—demands a closer look. Why do candidates risk it? How do voters react? And what’s the long-term impact on the political landscape?
The Temptation of Political Fertility: Why Candidates Relocate
At first glance, it seems like carpetbagging would be a risky, if not foolish, choice. Why would a candidate abandon the comfort of their home state and take a chance on voters who may view them as an outsider?
To answer that, we have to consider what I call political fertility, the degree to which a state offers fertile ground for a political career. It’s a measure of how difficult it is to gain a political foothold in the state, and then how difficult it is to continue climbing the political ladder either within the state or at the federal level, using that power base. Some states, quite simply, are tougher places to break into politics.
Consider states like California and Texas, both political behemoths with massive, diverse populations and long-established networks of politicians. Campaigning in these states requires enormous resources: millions in advertising, endless rounds of outreach, and often years of cultivating connections. The competition is fierce, with candidates not only facing each other but also grappling with a complex mix of issues and entrenched interests. Even a well-connected candidate can find themselves lost in the shuffle. California, with nearly 40 million residents, presents a political minefield for any hopeful without extensive resources and deep local ties.
Smaller states, however, may appear more accessible. Wyoming or Alaska, with populations under a million, present fewer competitors and require lower campaign budgets. It’s easier to stand out, easier to run a “close-to-the-people” campaign. Yet for those seeking national influence, these states are less advantageous. Governors and senators from California or Texas, like Gavin Newsom or Greg Abbott, frequently make national headlines and are touted as future presidential candidates. But how often do you hear about Wyoming’s Mark Gordon or Alaska’s Mike Dunleavy? Their platforms are largely limited to state issues, with smaller impact on the national scene. The leap from local to national prominence is tough when your state’s entire population is smaller than a mid-size city in Texas or California.
This uneven political terrain can lead ambitious candidates to seek out “fertile” states, where they can make a name for themselves without facing either overwhelming competition or limited visibility. Enter carpetbagging. For some, that means moving out of their home state entirely, risking voter skepticism in exchange for a potentially friendlier political environment. Carpetbagging can be a high-stakes gamble, with the potential for either swift success or harsh rejection.
States Where Carpetbagging Doesn’t Fly: Pennsylvania, New Hampshire, and West Virginia
Carpetbagging doesn’t land equally everywhere. Some states have a proud, insular identity and are quick to reject outsiders.
Pennsylvania 2022 Senate Race
Perhaps there is no greater test of carpetbagging as a game-changing issue than the recent Pennsylvania 2022 Senate election.
Two years after Democrats secured a hard-fought Senate majority through dual victories in Georgia’s runoffs, they faced a daunting but promising task: defending that fragile majority while aiming to gain seats in Republican-held territory. The stakes were high, with Georgia, Arizona, and Nevada marked as top priorities to defend, while seats in Wisconsin, North Carolina, and Pennsylvania represented valuable potential gains. A win in Pennsylvania, a state widely viewed as the most evenly divided in the nation, was considered the Democrats’ best chance to flip a Republican seat, though the outcome was far from assured.
To seize this opportunity, Democrats nominated Lieutenant Governor John Fetterman, a candidate with roots in Pennsylvania who had previously run for Senate in 2016 and put up a decent yet far-from-victorious performance.
Republicans, however, took a different approach, nominating Dr. Mehmet Oz, a TV personality widely recognized from his time on The Oprah Winfrey Show. Oz was an outsider, both to Pennsylvania and to politics. The month leading up to the election was tumultuous. Fetterman, who'd been running a a well-funded campaign, enjoyed an easy ride through the primary, with no truly significant competition during the primary. Nearly every poll showed him ahead - with some showing him ahead by more than 15%—an enormous lead by Pennsylvania standards. By contrast, Oz had barely secured his primary, winning by fewer than 1,000 votes and lacking the institutional support enjoyed by Fetterman.
Unfortunately, nothing holds: as Election Day loomed closer and closer, the race became tighter and tighter.
In mid-May, Fetterman suffered a stroke, raising questions about his health, allowing Oz to close the gap in the polls, even edging into the lead according to some forecasters.
Come election day, when voters cast their ballots, Fetterman won—not narrowly but by a decisive 5-point margin. While 5 points may not be a landslide, it was substantial enough to suggest that the race had not been that close at all, let alone in Oz’s favor.
There were, of course, multiple factors at play. Democratic gubernatorial candidate Josh Shapiro’s landslide victory, along with favorable conditions for Democrats in a largely pro-choice state after the Supreme Court’s pro-life ruling, likely boosted Fetterman’s chances.
Yet arguably the most critical factor was Oz’s status as a carpetbagger.
Born in Ohio, educated in New York, and a longtime resident of New Jersey, Oz had only moved to Pennsylvania a year before his Senate bid. It was a textbook case of carpetbagging, and Fetterman made it the focal point of his campaign. A glance through Fetterman’s Twitter feed reveals a steady stream of posts mocking Oz’s New Jersey roots, while campaign ads underscored the disconnect between Oz’s recent relocation and the deeply rooted identity of Pennsylvania.
The heart of carpetbagging lies in weighing the potential benefits against the risk of voter distaste. In Oz’s case, the gamble did not pay off. Running as a Republican Senate candidate in New Jersey may have been a nonstarter, but Pennsylvania’s deeply rooted culture and identity, as the birthplace of the Republic and heart of the Rust Belt, offered no easy welcome for an outsider. The state’s relative ethnic and religious uniformity further suggests a more cohesive, locally focused culture—one far less receptive to candidates seen as intruders. In this case, Oz’s carpetbagging status became not just a liability but, ultimately, a critical factor in his defeat.
New Hampshire: 2014 Senate Race
Similarly, New Hampshire, a state with a reputation for valuing its independence and community connections, tends to resist carpetbagging. even from candidates who seem, on paper, like they might fit. In 2014, former Massachusetts Senator Scott Brown learned this the hard way when he decided to run for Senate in New Hampshire after losing his seat in Massachusetts. To Brown, a neighboring state where he had spent years vacationing and even owned property likely seemed like a natural place to continue his political career. But New Hampshire’s residents saw things differently.
Despite his proximity to New Hampshire, Brown was viewed as an outsider. He was up against Senator Jeanne Shaheen, a longtime New Hampshire figure who had served as governor and had deep ties to the state’s residents and political establishment. Throughout the campaign, Shaheen leveraged Brown’s recent move, underscoring her own local roots and casting Brown’s candidacy as a transparent attempt to regain political power rather than a commitment to New Hampshire’s unique interests. Her campaign’s message was clear: Brown might understand Massachusetts, but New Hampshire, with its strong identity and fiercely independent political culture, was another matter entirely.
New Hampshire voters, known for their skepticism toward perceived outsiders, were not easily swayed by Brown’s efforts to establish local credibility. His Massachusetts background, instead of being seen as a minor detail, became a central issue. Shaheen effectively amplified this narrative, reminding voters that Brown’s sudden relocation felt more opportunistic than authentic. While he argued that his moderate, independent political views aligned well with New Hampshire’s electorate, his lack of true New Hampshire roots outweighed the merits of his platform in many voters’ minds.
By Election Day, the damage was done. Brown lost to Shaheen, a defeat that illustrated just how powerful New Hampshire’s resistance to carpetbagging can be, even when the candidate in question hails from the neighboring state. Brown’s experience highlighted a hard truth: New Hampshire’s strong sense of local identity and pride in its independence can make it exceptionally difficult for any candidate, no matter how geographically close, to overcome the perception of being an outsider. The state’s voters, fiercely protective of their community’s distinct character, ultimately rejected Brown’s candidacy, emphasizing that for them, genuine connections run deeper than political ambition.
Kansas: Pat Roberts’ 2014 Senate Race
The 2014 Senate race in Kansas stands out as a striking example of how accusations of carpetbagging—or even a perceived detachment from home—can become a major liability. When Democrat Chad Taylor unexpectedly dropped out, Independent candidate Greg Orman became the main challenger to long-time Republican incumbent Senator Pat Roberts. Roberts, a veteran politician with decades of service in Congress, found himself under fire not just for his political record but for his physical absence from Kansas. Having spent considerable time in Virginia, where he owned a home, Roberts was forced to confront the perception that he’d lost touch with his state. The fact that he didn’t even own a residence in Kansas, instead listing a rented room in a supporter’s home as his address, quickly became a focal point for Orman’s campaign.
Orman seized the opportunity, casting Roberts as a classic Washington insider who had drifted away from Kansas values and issues. His campaign emphasized Roberts’s limited presence in the state, portraying him as an absentee senator whose concerns had become more aligned with D.C. than with Kansans. Orman presented himself as a locally grounded alternative, someone free from the pull of the Beltway who could more genuinely represent Kansas’s needs.
Roberts’s campaign scrambled to contain the damage, doubling down on his conservative record and emphasizing his years of service to Kansas. National Republican heavyweights soon rallied to his defense, with figures like Ted Cruz and Sarah Palin campaigning to shore up his support and counter the growing narrative of Roberts’s detachment. They framed Orman as a political opportunist with ambiguous allegiances, arguing that his policy positions weren’t in tune with Kansas values.
In the end, despite these challenges, Roberts narrowly won re-election. The race, however, highlighted a key vulnerability: even a seasoned incumbent is not immune to the perception of being “absent” from his own state. For Kansas voters, Roberts’s close call became a warning signal about the risks of seeming disconnected, especially in a climate where strong community ties and visible local roots are increasingly valued.
States Where Carpetbagging *Might* Work: New York, Florida, and Illinois
Not every state reacts to carpetbagging with the same resistance. New York, with its massive, diverse population and high percentage of transplants, is often more welcoming of newcomers.
New York 2000 Senate Race
In 2000, Hillary Clinton, then First Lady, moved to New York to run for the U.S. Senate. At the time, First Lady Hillary Rodham Clinton ran as a Democrat for a U.S. Senate seat in New York against Republican Congressman Rick Lazio, who had replaced Rudy Giuliani on the ballot just months before the election. Clinton faced significant criticism for being an out-of-stater. Originally from Illinois and later First Lady of Arkansas during Bill Clinton’s tenure as governor, her ties to New York were notably absent. Lazio and his supporters seized on this in ads and campaign rallies, framing her as a carpetbagger. Their attacks seemed effective; Lazio led in multiple polls in the months leading up to the election.
However, Lazio’s campaign suffered from critical missteps, particularly during a September debate where he waved a piece of paper in Clinton’s face, invading her personal space in a way that was widely criticized. By election day, Clinton not only recovered but won by a comfortable 13-point margin, while Al Gore carried the state by nearly 25 points in the presidential race.
At first glance, Clinton’s win appeared weaker than Gore’s, seemingly validating concerns that her carpetbagging had suppressed her margin. But when considered in context, her performance was quite strong. Senate races at the time were less polarized than presidential contests, and Gore’s commanding lead may have been bolstered by the Jewish heritage of his running mate, Joe Lieberman, in a state with a significant Jewish population. Clinton’s victory was solid, especially given the challenges she faced.
So why didn’t Clinton face harsher consequences for her outsider status? This outcome reflects the complex state-level dynamics that shape how carpetbagging is perceived. In a state as large and diverse as New York, with its multifaceted cultural and demographic landscape, Clinton’s out-of-state origins mattered less.
New York’s electorate is strikingly varied. While rural areas upstate represent one segment of the population, a much larger portion resides in the densely populated and diverse New York City metro area. The state boasts the largest Jewish population in the country, a significant number of atheists, and adherents of other faiths, along with a population where over 55% identify as minorities. Crucially, many of New York’s voters were not originally born in the state themselves.
In short, New York’s cultural and demographic complexity means it lacks a singular “state tradition.” This diversity may make voters less likely to hold it against candidates for not embodying a uniform identity tied to New York, allowing Clinton to navigate the issue of carpetbagging far more effectively than she might have in a less multifaceted state.
Florida and Governor Rick Scott
Florida is another state where carpetbagging often flies under the radar. With its unique mix of native-born residents and transplants from across the country, Florida’s electorate is more open to newcomers than other, more culturally insular states. Consider Governor Rick Scott, who successfully ran for office despite being originally from Illinois. Scott’s outsider status barely registered as a problem during his campaigns. Instead, his conservative credentials and sharp focus on appealing to Florida’s right-leaning base dominated the narrative.
Part of what made this possible is Florida’s identity—or, more accurately, its lack of a singular one. The state’s population is incredibly transient, with millions of retirees moving in each year, particularly from the Northeast and Midwest. By 2010, when Scott was first elected governor, over a third of the state’s residents had been born outside Florida. This fluid demographic dynamic means that the idea of being a “true Floridian” holds far less weight compared to states with more entrenched cultural norms. Voters are accustomed to seeing leaders and neighbors alike who hail from other parts of the country.
Additionally, Florida’s diversity extends beyond its transient population. The state has significant Latino, African American, and Jewish communities, alongside large numbers of retirees and working-class voters. These varied constituencies make it difficult for any candidate to adhere to a traditional “Florida mold.” Instead, successful campaigns often focus on shared values—like Scott’s emphasis on low taxes, small government, and conservative ideals—rather than shared origins.
Moreover, Scott leveraged his business background as the former CEO of a major healthcare company, emphasizing his ability to create jobs and manage the state’s economy. These appeals resonated with Florida’s economically-focused voters, particularly in a post-recession climate, and overshadowed questions about his outsider roots. Florida’s political culture, with its emphasis on results and ideological alignment over personal background, enabled Scott to sidestep the carpetbagging issue almost entirely.
In Florida, like New York, the absence of a unified state identity creates an environment where carpetbagging can succeed, as long as a candidate connects with voters on issues that matter most. Scott’s success illustrates how diverse, transient states are far less likely to punish candidates for where they’re from and far more likely to reward them for aligning with the state’s political and economic priorities.
Illinois and Barack Obama
Illinois, particularly in cities like Chicago, offers another example of a state that is arguably more receptive to carpetbagging. The state’s political culture, especially in its urban centers, tends to be more forgiving of outsiders, as long as they demonstrate meaningful local engagement. Barack Obama’s political rise is a case in point. Born in Hawaii and raised in Indonesia and later in Hawaii again, Obama had no deep-rooted ties to Illinois when he moved there as a young adult. Yet, he successfully built his political career in the state, eventually earning credibility that overshadowed his outsider origins.
Obama’s connection to Illinois began with his work as a community organizer on Chicago’s South Side, where he spent several years tackling issues like job training and housing in underserved neighborhoods. This work established him as someone deeply invested in the well-being of the community, earning him respect and recognition among local leaders and voters alike. When he transitioned into politics, serving as a state senator for seven years, he further cemented his ties by advocating for progressive policies that aligned with the values of Illinois’s Democratic base, including expanding healthcare and supporting ethics reform.
Part of Obama’s ability to overcome any skepticism about his origins stemmed from the nature of Illinois’s electorate. Chicago, the state’s largest city and a Democratic stronghold, is a hub of diversity and migration. Many of its residents are transplants themselves, whether from other parts of the state, other states, or even other countries. This melting-pot dynamic makes voters less concerned with whether a candidate is a “native” and more focused on their ability to connect with and address the issues facing Illinois communities.
Furthermore, Illinois’s political culture rewards candidates who engage directly with its voters, particularly in Chicago. Obama’s grassroots approach, including his work with faith-based and civic organizations, created a sense of authenticity that resonated with the city’s electorate. By the time he launched his campaign for U.S. Senate in 2004, Obama had built a solid reputation as someone who understood and cared about Illinois’s challenges, effectively neutralizing concerns about his outsider status.
Obama’s trajectory illustrates how a candidate without homegrown roots can successfully navigate and thrive in a state like Illinois. By deeply embedding himself in the community and prioritizing local issues, he bridged the gap between his outsider origins and his adopted state, proving that strong local engagement can be just as powerful as a lifelong connection to a place.
The Unique Politics of Midwestern Swing States: Arizona, Wisconsin, and Michigan
Swing states, where political control frequently shifts, are increasingly becoming battlegrounds for carpetbaggers looking to influence tight races. Arizona, for example, has attracted candidates from across the political spectrum as its demographics shift. The state’s blend of urban and rural interests, combined with its status as a key battleground, has drawn national attention. Carpetbagging in Arizona, however, is risky; the state’s conservative legacy and long-standing issues around immigration make it difficult for outsiders to gain voter trust. Candidates here must navigate Arizona’s distinctive local concerns, proving they’re truly committed to the state’s future.
Wisconsin and Michigan, Rust Belt states with a strong working-class ethos, also present challenges for carpetbaggers. These states have been battlegrounds in recent presidential elections, and candidates who lack local ties often struggle to appeal to voters who prioritize a shared understanding of the economic struggles and cultural values shaped by the decline of manufacturing. Wisconsin, in particular, is home to deeply rooted communities with a pride in local culture, meaning carpetbaggers often face a steep climb.
Representation and Trust: The Problem of Outsiders
Beyond optics, carpetbagging raises deeper issues about representation. Voters expect a candidate who understands their local concerns, someone who has lived their experiences and can advocate for their needs. Carpetbagging can feel like a violation of this trust, particularly in regions with distinctive industries, traditions, or values. In coal towns in West Virginia or farming communities in Iowa, voters often prefer candidates with genuine ties to their industry and way of life.
In Iowa, for example, agriculture is central to the state’s identity and economy, and candidates without strong connections to farming may struggle to gain traction. In 2014, Joni Ernst successfully ran for Senate in Iowa, emphasizing her farming roots in a way that resonated deeply with voters. Her “farm girl” image helped her connect with voters who felt she understood Iowa’s unique challenges.
The Future of Carpetbagging in a Polarized America
As politics grows more polarized, carpetbagging is becoming even more contentious. In battleground states, where every vote counts, candidates are increasingly willing to risk running in unfamiliar states if it gives them a better shot at victory. But the risks remain high. Voters in swing states are skeptical of candidates who appear to have relocated solely to chase political success. In these polarized times, authenticity is often scrutinized more intensely, and candidates without deep local roots face more pressure to prove their commitment.
Arizona, Georgia, and North Carolina, all recent swing states, have seen candidates from other states testing the waters. But as recent elections have shown, the demand for genuine, authentic representatives remains high. Carpetbagging may offer a shortcut, but it’s one fraught with obstacles and, often, rejection. States with strong local identities or histories of economic hardship aren’t quick to forgive candidates who seem to be passing through.
When Carpetbagging Can Feel Justified: Commitment Beyond Opportunism
Sometimes, carpetbagging isn’t just a cynical career move—it’s a legitimate choice shaped by extraordinary circumstances. There are situations where a candidate might run in a new state out of genuine commitment or even necessity, and in these cases, voters may be more understanding.
Take military veterans, for instance, who have moved from state to state in service to the country, or individuals who have been compelled to relocate due to economic hardship. For these candidates, carpetbagging may not represent opportunism so much as the natural consequence of a life lived in public service or of survival through turbulent times.
Other cases might involve candidates whose work aligns with the needs of a particular state, even if they haven’t lived there long. For example, environmental experts running in states affected by climate change, or economic reform advocates seeking to tackle pressing issues in states hit hard by industrial decline. These candidates may not be seen as outsiders but as allies, bringing their expertise to communities in need. When carpetbagging serves a purpose beyond personal ambition, it can have a legitimacy that voters can often recognize and respect, transforming it from a liability into a unique form of dedication.
For example, Senator Tammy Duckworth of Illinois, a decorated military veteran, was born in Thailand and lived in several places due to her father’s work before settling in Illinois, where she eventually launched her political career. Though she didn’t have deep family roots in Illinois, her service as a U.S. Army helicopter pilot and her commitment to veterans’ issues gave her a unique connection to the state’s substantial veteran population and a sense of shared purpose with its residents. Her history of public service helped voters look beyond her relative newcomer status.
Another possible example is Michael Bennet, who was born in India and moved frequently as a child due to his father’s work at the U.S. Embassy there. Despite his international upbringing, Bennet eventually settled in Colorado, where he became superintendent of the Denver Public Schools and later ran for Senate. His work in education reform, addressing specific issues facing Colorado’s students, earned him legitimacy in the eyes of Colorado voters, who saw his carpetbagging as secondary to his commitment to state issues. Bennet’s “carpetbagger” status could be considered debatable, as he had lived in Colorado for some years before his Senate appointment, but still provides a useful example.
In both cases, voters found their backgrounds and dedication to service reason enough to overlook their non-traditional paths to state politics.
The Gamble of Carpetbagging: A High-Stakes Choice
Ultimately, carpetbagging is a calculated risk. For voters, the stakes are personal: they want representatives who reflect their lives, understand their history, and will fight for their future. And for candidates, this demand for authenticity makes carpetbagging a high-stakes maneuver that could either catapult them to success or leave them as an outsider looking in.
Carpetbagging reveals an important tension in American democracy—the tension between for both genuine connection and political opportunity. As long as authenticity remains a critical value, voters will continue to demand that candidates prove themselves not just as politicians, but as neighbors, as members of their community. And as long as that expectation remains, carpetbagging will be a tactic with high risks and, only occasionally, high rewards.