At issue: Is Donald Trump’s attempt at “draining the swamp” as legitimate as he claims?

It’s rather ironic that Donald Trump, in his attempt to “drain the swamp,” chose to relocate government services to the heartland—a move he likely thought would undermine the bureaucracy he so derided. A notable example was the decision to shift the Bureau of Land Management headquarters approximately 2,000 miles west of Washington, D.C., to Grand Junction, Colorado.

The irony is rich: if there was ever a time in U.S. history that resembled anarcho-capitalism, it was the Wild West, and Grand Junction was emblematic of that era. Founded in the late 19th century (incorporated in 1882), Grand Junction was a frontier town born of the same unregulated libertarian spirit that Trump’s policies often seemed to nostalgically endorse. Yet today, the city is a fusion of its rugged past and modern industries like tourism, agriculture, and energy—and now, improbably, federal government services.

The spirit of independence and self-reliance remains a hallmark of Grand Junction’s cultural identity, which makes it seem, on the surface, an unlikely destination for federal expansion. You’d almost expect such a place to reject government involvement outright, or at least view it as a threat to its ethos. Perhaps that was Trump’s intention: to send the federal government to its proverbial grave in a region where federal oversight might wither away.

But the reality is far from this romanticized notion of government dysfunction. The good citizens of Grand Junction were unlikely to refuse federal dollars, which they would welcome as readily as a gunslinger drawing a Colt pistol. Over time, even a place born from the excesses of 19th-century libertarianism has been tempered by the benefits of state and federal regulations.

Grand Junction played its role in the broader narrative of America’s frontier expansion, but its latest chapter reveals a different trajectory. Instead of shrinking the federal government’s influence, the relocation of agencies like the Bureau of Land Management extends federal reach—not just over public lands, but into the daily lives of its employees. The city has become part of a new frontier where federal hegemony grows in unexpected ways.

From a political perspective, Democrats might secretly cheer for more of these moves. By decentralizing federal agencies and relocating jobs to Red States, Trump inadvertently planted seeds of potential political transformation. The migration of federal workers to traditionally conservative regions mirrors a broader trend born from the COVID-19 pandemic, where flexible work arrangements spurred waves of Democratic-leaning voters to states like Georgia, Texas, North Carolina, Tennessee, Florida, and Arizona. These transplants, alongside the influx of federal dollars, could gradually shape local politics in ways Trump likely never anticipated.

In the end, “draining the swamp” may not mean what Trump thought it did. The swamp isn’t the geography of Washington, D.C., or its predominantly Democratic voting base. It’s the machinery of government itself—something far too entrenched to simply be moved westward. Instead, places like Grand Junction are writing a new chapter in America’s ongoing balancing act between independence and federal oversight, with outcomes that might surprise even the most ardent swamp-drainers.