At its best, a local movement is a celebration of community: shared success, mutual support, collaboration, and pride of place. At its worst, it becomes something else entirely—a closed-loop system driven by fear, scarcity thinking, and social exclusion. Unfortunately, Asheville’s once-promising “Support Local” movement has drifted dangerously close to the latter.
When many businesses say “support local,” what they often mean is “buy from me instead of them.” Not because of superior quality, service, or hospitality—but simply because of geography. Over time, that subtle shift has eroded trust, fractured collaboration, and replaced genuine community with performative loyalty.
Years ago, we supported Asheville’s original local movement wholeheartedly. We believed in its mission and participated in good faith. But it didn’t take long to notice the cracks: campaigns run through tight social circles, marketing dollars recycled among friends, and an unspoken hierarchy that determined who was “local enough” to belong. Proven strategies that could have scaled the movement were rejected—not because they didn’t work, but because they didn’t originate from within the clique.
This is not community-building. This is gatekeeping.
The Psychology of Local Extremism
From a psychological perspective, what we’re witnessing isn’t unique to Asheville—it’s a textbook case of in-group vs. out-group bias. When resources feel scarce, groups often protect identity rather than pursue growth. Instead of asking, “How do we all win?” the question becomes, “How do we make sure they don’t?”
This mindset breeds local extremism—the belief that proximity equals virtue and expansion equals betrayal. Businesses are praised not for excellence, but for compliance. Those who grow beyond Asheville’s borders are quietly reframed as sellouts, outsiders, or threats.
Ironically, this thinking directly undermines the very businesses it claims to protect.
Performative Support Isn’t Support
Look closely at how “support local” plays out online. Businesses expect engagement when praised—but rarely return it. Compliments flow inward, not outward. Support is conditional, transactional, and selective.
Take the food truck community as a clear example. Many rally loudly for “local food,” yet how often do local food trucks actively support other food trucks? Not financially—just digitally. A like. A share. A comment. A second of effort. Too often, it doesn’t happen.
At the same time, these same voices criticize out-of-town food events for “not being local enough,” despite those events bringing new people, new money, and new energy into the city. The logic is contradictory: We want growth, but only if it never changes anything.
This is scarcity thinking masquerading as loyalty.
Expansion Is Not a Moral Failure
Here’s the uncomfortable question: should Asheville boycott restaurants like Chai Pani or Tupelo Honey because they expanded beyond city limits? Should people in other states refuse to eat there because those businesses were born in Asheville?
Of course not. That would be economically illiterate and socially irresponsible.
Expansion is not exploitation. Growth is not betrayal. Success elsewhere does not erase local roots—it validates them.
Yet some local narratives suggest that remaining small is morally superior, while scaling is suspicious. This belief doesn’t protect community—it traps it.
The Local Pitch Problem
Imagine trying to sell a product to someone visiting from Atlanta by saying, “You should buy this because it’s from Asheville, not Atlanta.” That pitch doesn’t resonate—it alienates.
Most customers are not local. Tourists, transplants, and visitors fuel Asheville’s economy. They don’t buy ideology; they buy experiences. Product quality, service, warmth, and hospitality matter far more than ZIP codes.
A stronger, more honest message would be:
“Here’s what we do exceptionally well—and here’s why you’ll love it.”
Not:
“We’re better than them because they’re not from here.”
If “Only Locals” Is the Goal, Say It Out Loud
If some businesses truly believe locality alone is the qualifier for worthiness, then logic demands consistency. Why not put signs on the door that say, “Only locals allowed”? Why accept money from visitors, corporations, or non-local employees at all?
Because the truth is uncomfortable: no business survives on locals alone. The moral high ground collapses the moment revenue is on the line.
This contradiction exposes the movement’s core issue—it’s branding, not belief.
When Criticism Replaces Innovation
Perhaps the most damaging behavior is what happens when growth stalls. Instead of improving product, service, or experience, some businesses turn outward—scrutinizing the lifestyles, politics, or personal beliefs of founders of larger companies. This information is then weaponized to discourage patronage.
That is not competition. That is deflection.
Psychologically, this reflects status anxiety—the fear that one has gone as far as they ever will. When upward mobility feels blocked, it’s easier to tear down others than build oneself up.
This tactic doesn’t elevate Asheville. It diminishes it.
Media, Marketing, and Missed Opportunities
Even local media struggles here. Coverage often correlates with advertising spend, not impact. Meanwhile, many outlets lack the digital fluency to build authentic engagement, relying instead on outdated, mechanical promotion that feels disconnected from real community interaction.
The result? More noise. Less connection.
The Real Path Forward
Supporting local businesses is important—but not through hostility, exclusion, or ideological purity tests. A healthy local economy welcomes competition, celebrates success, and understands that growth anywhere reflects positively everywhere.
True community isn’t built by drawing lines. It’s built by opening doors.
Be better. Do better. Support excellence—not extremism.
And remember: community thrives through collaboration, not condemnation.
