Utah’s politics aren’t just broken – they’re calcified. A supermajority legislature rubber-stamps extremist policies, local journalism is collapsing, and too many voters are left with nothing but the filtered outrage of their social feeds. Yet, across the state, there are people paying attention and pushing back. This is a roadmap for anyone in Utah who’s ready to fight. Learn how to stay informed, protect our communities, reclaim political power, and resist the forces that would rather keep us compliant.
TLDR – How to fix Utah’s broken government
- Follow credible sources – SL Tribune, FOX 13, Herald Journal, Bryan Schott.
- Fund local journalism – Subscribe, donate, and share impactful stories.
- Engage early – Attend forums, vet candidates, ask hard questions.
- Vote every time – Local, primary, special, school board races, everything.
- Run for office – Start small to build influence.
- Break the supermajority – Build coalitions to restore debate.
- Track leaders – Watch votes, reward courage over party loyalty.
- Reject ICE ties – Push officials to refuse cooperation; use ICE Block.
- Protect data rights – Advocate for laws, monitor AI impacts, use AI wisely.
- Stay engaged – Organize, speak up, and act for the future you want.
Chapters
- How Utah voters can stay informed
- The concerning collapse of local journalism
- How to keep independent journalism alive
- Gen z, voting power, and the weight of a broken system
- Utah’s family values and the power of women voters
- Spencer Cox, spineless by nature, cucked by Utah legislature
- How to resist ICE in Utah communities
- Wrestling with AI usage and data privacy rights
- Fighting for the future – against the machine
- Frequently asked questions

How Utah voters can stay informed
The first step to fixing Utah’s broken government is knowing exactly how it’s broken. That means staying plugged in – intentionally, not accidentally – so you’re getting more than whatever’s drifting into your feed.
TLDR – How Utah voters can stay informed
- Follow credible sources: Salt Lake Tribune, FOX 13’s Ben Winslow, Bryan Schott.
- Read and support your local paper; attend city council meetings.
- Diversify your news: follow independent journalists and watchdog groups like Better Utah.
- Recognize how local issues often tie back to state law.
- Use social media intentionally – verify sources before trusting or sharing.
Start with credible local reporting. Utah local, and former journalist, Ty Riggs explains:
By and large, the Salt Lake Tribune does a great job. Ben Winslow at FOX 13 does a great job, especially during the legislative session. – Former Utah journalist Ty Riggs
Zoom in to your own backyard, too. Your local paper – whether it’s The Herald Journal in Logan or a weekly in rural Utah – is still “fighting the good fight” with fewer resources than ever. Read them. Support them. Show up at city council meetings when you can.
Diversify your sources, as well. Don’t just live in your political comfort zone. Follow independent journalists like Bryan Schott, who’s been exposing the inner workings of Utah’s state government for years. Track advocacy and watchdog groups like Better Utah, whose daily TikTok series Hill Yeah breaks down legislation in plain English.
“Everything that is happening local, as you start doing research… gets pulled back to state law. Everything interconnects.” – Former Utah journalist Ty Riggs
Finally, be social media smart. Facebook classifieds, neighborhood groups, and Reddit threads can surface early information about changes in your community. Be intentional about who you follow – and apply the same test you’d give to anyone you don’t know: Are they credible? Do they cite facts you can verify?

The concerning collapse of local journalism
Utah’s local newsrooms aren’t just shrinking – they’re disappearing. And when they go, they take accountability, transparency, and community memory with them.
TLDR – The collapse of local journalism
- Utah newsrooms have lost most of their reporters, slashing oversight and accountability.
- Economic shifts (Craigslist, KSL, paywalls) gutted revenue and drove readership away.
- Corporate owners worsened decline with cuts and reduced publication schedules.
- Without local reporters, government faces less scrutiny and communities lose shared memory.
Once, The Herald Journal had several reporters, editors, and interns covering Cache County, Utah, and Franklin County, Idaho.
“That’s down to maybe two people right now… maybe two and a half.” – Former Utah journalist Ty Riggs
When coverage thins, so does oversight. Local journalists used to be a constant presence – sitting in city council meetings, digging into budgets, and tracking policy shifts. That “fourth estate” role has eroded in communities across Utah and the country. Without it, government operates with less scrutiny, and voters are left in the dark.
The reasons are as much economic as cultural. Classified ad revenue – once the lifeblood of local papers – vanished when platforms like Craigslist and KSL made selling online free. Print subscriptions plummeted as readers moved online. Paywalls went up to compensate, but most people simply refused to pay. The spiral continued: less revenue, fewer reporters, less coverage, more readers tuning out.
“It’s not just a very sad thing. It’s a very bad thing.” – Former Utah journalist Ty Riggs
And in many cases, corporate decision-making made it worse. These weren’t choices made in the newsroom – they were executive-level calls from far away. Cutting publication to three days a week, gutting coverage areas, laying off staff: These decisions cannibalized the very product they were trying to save.
“If you don’t have a good product, you don’t have anything… they were eating themselves.” – Former Utah journalist Casey Rock
When local journalism disappears, so does our ability to see, and stop, what’s happening right in front of us.

How to keep independent journalism alive
Independent journalism isn’t gone – but it’s under immense stress. Whether or not it survives depends on if we treat it like the public necessity it is.
A lot of the strongest local reporting now comes from individuals who’ve left legacy outlets to start their own thing. One such example is Bryan Schott – once at The Salt Lake Tribune, now running his own Substack newsletter and TikTok updates. He puts his work out for free, but sustains it through reader subscriptions, premium memberships, and donations. This is the new economic model for much of the independent press.
The easiest way to help?
“Throw a few bucks a month or $10, $20 a year their way… it will help sustain that effort.” – Former Utah journalist Ty Riggs
The second way to help is just as important: amplify good work. If you see an article or video that matters – share it. Post it to your social media. Text it to a friend. Include a note about why it’s important.
“Help start a discussion… We don’t have anything that’s fostering a healthy discussion about news in the community anymore.” – Former Utah journalist Ty Riggs
In the “glory days” of local papers, front-page stories became talkers – topics everyone in town knew about and could discuss. That doesn’t happen much now, except as anonymous potshots online. We can bring that back by making good journalism part of our real-life conversations.
How you can keep Utah’s independent press alive:
- Fund it. Subscribe, donate, or become a paying member of journalists you trust.
- Share it. Post impactful stories where your network will see them.
- Talk about it. Ask friends and family, “What do you think about this?”
- Model media literacy. Explain why a story matters and why the source is credible.
- Treat it like infrastructure. Because without it, democracy erodes at the foundation.
Independent journalism can’t survive on clicks alone. It survives when communities decide it’s worth keeping – and back that belief with action.

Gen z, voting power, and the weight of a broken system
In Utah’s rural towns and across the state, the single biggest lever of influence Gen Z holds isn’t a viral hashtag – it’s a ballot.
“The voice of any individual demographic does not matter if they aren’t showing up to vote.” – Former Utah journalist Ty Riggs
Historically, youth turnout has been low. There’s plenty of passion – rallies, online campaigns, loud social media presence – but when election day comes, the boomer vote has dwarfed it. That started to shift a little in 2024. But in raw numbers, older generations still dominate.
Voting isn’t the only entry point for driving change, though. Running for city council, serving on a planning commission, joining a school board – these roles shape the rules everyone lives under. So does showing up early in the process: vetting candidates, asking them real questions, knocking on doors, and organizing for the ones who align with your values.
“You can’t ask to have influence, but then have never got involved in the stages that allow you to earn influence.” – Former Utah journalist Ty Riggs
Here’s the hard truth: calling a politician after they’ve been elected – especially one you didn’t help put there – rarely changes their vote. You’re not in their core constituency. The only way to outpower the current one is to build a new one.
But there’s also the deeper, darker truth: the system is cracked to its core.
“The system is broken in the United States, flat out, full stop… The ultra rich have so much power… both parties are out of touch and do not care about serving any audience but the wealthy.” – Former Utah journalist Ty Riggs
Campaigns might toss out a “youth policy coordinator” as a token gesture, but the structural imbalance remains. Younger candidates are often crushed by party infighting long before they can shift the agenda. And the big issues – climate change, income inequality, housing shortages, care for the most vulnerable – are sidelined while power consolidates further in the hands of those opposed to change.
It’s easy to lose hope. But despair doesn’t move the needle – voting, organizing, and relentless early engagement do.
If you’re young and want to see change, start here:
- Vote every election – local, primary, special, school board. All of them.
- Run for something – even small offices set the stage for bigger fights.
- Show up early – candidate forums, party meetings, policy workshops.
- Organize peers – voting power multiplies when you move as a block.
- Stay loud between elections – public pressure still matters, even in a rigged system.
The system may be broken – but if Gen Z shows up in force, builds its own constituencies, creates coalitions with other groups (such as women and Latino voters), and refuses to hand power away by default, it can shake things up.

Utah’s family values and the power of women voters
Utah sells itself as family-friendly. The billboards say so. The culture says so. But when you dig into the policies that actually support families – paid parental leave, affordable childcare, postpartum health – the shine fades fast.
Yes, there are bright spots. Utah has created education savings account programs and offers limited protections for the most vulnerable children. But when it comes to comprehensive paid family leave or robust support for working parents, we lag far behind.
“It ultimately comes down to who we’re electing.” – Former Utah journalist Ty Riggs
And who we’re electing looks a lot like it has for decades: overwhelmingly white, male, LDS, ultra-conservative, and often drawn from the same narrow professional backgrounds – law and real estate development. The result is a supermajority so entrenched that healthy debate doesn’t exist.
Here’s the paradox: on many social issues (outside LGBTQ+ rights), LDS culture actually leans more liberal than Utah’s voting record suggests. LDS women, in particular, are often politically active, pragmatic, and unwilling to accept that the state “has to suck” on family policy. Some are already taking a stand.
“There are some real wonderful LDS women out there who say ‘We can do better as a state.’ Those are the types of people that I think will eventually save us.” – Former Utah journalist Ty Riggs
The challenge is that their husbands – and the male voting bloc in general – aren’t moving at the same pace. And with so few women, and especially young women, in the legislature, the policy needle barely budges.
The opening for change is coalition. Imagine the Latino community, more liberal LDS women, independents, and disaffected moderates banding together – not to lurch left, but to moderate Utah’s politics.
The goal here isn’t “free abortions on every street corner” or the other fearmongering caricatures pushed by the far right. It would be breaking the supermajority, restoring actual debate, and passing basic, broadly supported policies that strengthen families.
There are signs the ground is shifting.
“My mom has been involved in protests for the first time I can recall… I can’t help but wonder if our parents’ generation is looking at the state of things and being like, ‘What did we do? We need to start doing something differently.’” – Former Utah journalist Casey Rock
National groups like Pod Save America are starting to invest in Utah races, targeting specific seats to loosen the supermajority’s grip. But money alone won’t do it. Change will require Utah voters – especially women – to look beyond party labels and ask whether the people they send to the Capitol actually serve the families they claim to value.
What Utah voters can do now to strengthen families:
- Elect more women – especially those with lived experience balancing work, parenting, and caregiving.
- Build cross-community coalitions that focus on pragmatic solutions over party loyalty.
- Target the supermajority – getting Utah Republicans down to 66% or less would restore legislative debate.
- Push candidates on family policy – don’t let “family values” remain an empty slogan.
- Model political independence – vote for the person, not just the party ticket.
Utah’s values don’t have to change to produce better outcomes for families. But our definition of “family-friendly” policy, and who gets to make it, does.

Spencer Cox, spineless by nature, cucked by Utah legislature
When Spencer Cox first appeared on Utah’s political stage, he felt like a breath of fresh air to many – measured, empathetic, willing to talk about humanity in politics. Many voters, even those outside his party, saw him as a centrist who might bridge divides. His empathetic statement after the 2016 Pulse nightclub shooting, acknowledging the pain felt by LGBTQ+ Utahns, was one of the moments that solidified that perception.
But looking back, some now see that moment not as a turning point, but as a calculated political move.
“Everything Spencer Cox has done has been calculated… he has moved further right as a permission structure for him to be able to do so (has opened up).” – Former Utah journalist Ty Riggs
As Gary Herbert’s lieutenant governor, Cox essentially inherited the governorship from Herbert once Herbert declined to run for office. However, Cox quickly proved unwilling, or unable, to push back on the Utah Legislature’s hard-right agenda. Utah’s system leaves the governor with little veto power, and Cox has leaned into the role of signature machine, rarely challenging the bills sent to his desk.
“He just kind of sits there and signs their bills… he’s now in a state of preserving his power.” – Former Utah journalist Ty Riggs
Missed opportunities define his tenure. Cox had a rare chance to reshape state, and even national, politics by leaving the Republican Party, running as an independent, and capturing a coalition of moderates, independents, and disaffected conservatives fighting against the rising power of the MAGA movement. It could have been an Evan McMullin-style move with far more authenticity and statewide viability. But he chose the comfort, and constraints, of party loyalty.
“He sought the greed and the grift of what comes with being a loyal card-carrying member of the Republican Party… that’s really hurt him.” – Former Utah journalist Ty Riggs
The result? He’s lost respect across the spectrum. The Left sees him as complicit in the legislature’s extremism. The Right sees him as suspect for not being extreme enough. His 2024 re-election was hardly a mandate – he faced a fierce primary challenge from far-right Phil Lyman, who even teamed up with Democrat Brian King in anti-Cox ads. That bipartisan opposition was less about shared policy and more about a shared belief: Cox isn’t the leader Utah needs.
Critics place him alongside Utah’s most compliant political figures.
“When I say spineless, he’s on the Mount Rushmore of lacking a spine in Utah government.” – Former Utah journalist Ty Riggs
Whether Cox runs again is an open question. His political lane has narrowed. The far right is eager to replace him. The center is disappointed. And the left never truly embraced him. In a state where party loyalty often trumps all, Cox’s refusal to stand against his own party’s excesses may prove his political undoing.
Key lessons Spencer Cox’s tenure can teach Utah voters:
- Don’t mistake moderate rhetoric for moderate policy – track the votes and signatures.
- Remember the governor’s limited power – and judge how they choose to use it.
- Reward courage over compliance – leaders who push back on their own party shape real change.
- Watch the 2028 field early – figures like Burgess Owens may try to pivot from national irrelevance to statewide office. Hold their feet to the fire.
Cox’s story is a reminder that in Utah politics, the center isn’t a place you stand – it’s a place you have to fight to hold.

How to resist ICE in Utah communities
Utahns like to talk about constitutional rights and “family values.” If we mean it, we need to stand up when federal agencies like ICE target our neighbors. In many places, that starts with knowing where ICE is and refusing to help them do their work.
One useful tool is ICE Block – an iOS app that lets users flag ICE sightings. See an ICE vehicle near a grocery store? Post it, and anyone in the alert zone gets a notification to avoid that area. Versions and similar tools exist for other platforms. For vulnerable Utahns, this isn’t just information – it’s a lifeline.
But resisting ICE takes more than an app. If you have the privilege to confront ICE without personal risk, use it.
“If I see a member of ICE, I’m going to harass them. I’m going to make a scene and show other members of the community that there’s people in their corner.” – Former Utah journalist Ty Riggs
That public pushback matters. It sends a signal to both vulnerable residents and other bystanders: someone is watching, and someone cares.
The bigger fight is political. Local law enforcement in Utah has been partnering with ICE – acting as their “boots on the ground.” The Cache County Sheriff’s Office is even in active negotiations to formalize a contract with ICE.
But some cities are pushing back. Logan’s police chief has stated the department will not cooperate with ICE beyond what federal law mandates – a stance publicly supported by at least two mayoral candidates, Alanna Nafziger and Mark Anderson.
That’s why vetting local candidates is critical.
“People should get out to Meet the Candidate forums and raise it as an issue. Ask the question: ‘Will you support ICE?’” – Former Utah journalist Ty Riggs
If a candidate says “yes,” they’re fine with tearing families apart. Don’t give them your vote. This isn’t like debating streetlight colors – it’s an existential question about whether we treat all people with dignity and equal protection under the law.
How Utahns can push back against ICE:
- Use community alert tools like ICE Block to keep vulnerable neighbors informed.
- Pressure local officials. Oppose any city or county partnerships with ICE.
- Raise it in campaigns. Ask candidates directly if they support ICE cooperation.
- Make public opposition visible. Your presence and voice can shift the tone in your community.
- Leverage privilege. Those at less personal risk can take more public action.
The core of this fight is empathy. You can’t hand it out like a flyer – it comes from relationships, conversations, and standing with people who live under the constant threat of losing everything. In Utah’s current climate, that takes courage. But it’s the only way to make “liberty and justice for all” more than a slogan.

Wrestling with AI usage and data privacy rights
AI isn’t just a flashy new productivity tool – it’s an accelerant on problems we haven’t solved about privacy, power, and the environment. And right now, Utah is right in the thick of it.
On the privacy side, the U.S. has essentially handed the government and tech giants a firehose of personal data:
“Palantir catalogs everything: Where do you go? What do you buy? What do you email about? Like all of that kind of stuff.” – Former Utah journalist Ty Riggs
Much of it flows through companies like Google, Meta, and TikTok – and into federal partnerships with firms like Palantir, run by billionaire Peter Thiel. The goal is a database cataloging everything on every American.
Unlike Europe, which enforces strict individual rights to data and levies billion-dollar fines against violators, the U.S. offers no meaningful right to privacy. The legal framework hasn’t caught up, and the consequences could be civil-rights-level catastrophic.
There’s also the environmental cost. Data centers for Meta, Google, and the NSA already consume millions of gallons of water each year in Utah. In Texas, AI data centers are projected to use 7% of the state’s water by 2030.
These facilities sprawl over millions of square feet, employ only a few dozen people, and run 24/7. Add in the noise pollution and power demands, and the “future of tech” starts to look a lot like an unchecked industrial blight.
Then there’s AI itself: powerful, profitable, and wildly unregulated. AI will take jobs and create new ones – like every major technology shift before it – but the speed is different this time. The market is a bubble, with companies “wrapping” ChatGPT or other models and claiming $500 billion valuations without sustainable business models.
In the meantime, the public misuse is real: Students outsourcing schoolwork, creative professionals replacing their own thinking with AI’s output, and decision-making increasingly shaped by opaque algorithms.
“We’re raising a generation of illiterates who are dependent on AI.” – Former Utah journalist Ty Riggs
For those of us in industries where AI is now table stakes, the ethical tension is constant. Refuse to use it and risk falling behind – or embrace it, while knowing it’s built on massive data collection, questionable labor practices, and heavy environmental costs. The best we can do right now is to use it responsibly: as a thinking partner, not a replacement; as a tool for efficiency, not for mindless content generation.
- Push for European-style data rights – clear laws that give individuals control over their information.
- Demand transparency from state and local officials about tech company partnerships and data center impacts.
- Use AI mindfully – facilitate your thinking, don’t outsource it entirely.
- Watch the environmental footprint – water use, land consumption, and noise pollution should be part of the public debate.
- Protect critical thinking – in schools, in the workplace, and in public policy.
The AI boom is moving faster than any regulatory or ethical framework we have. If we don’t assert ourselves now – at the legislative level, in our industries, and in our personal use – we’ll get steamrolled. And not just by the technology, but by the handful of ultra-wealthy actors who stand to own the infrastructure, the data, and the future.

Fighting for the future – against the machine
After all the talk of broken systems, extremist politics, and looming crises, it’s easy to feel crushed by the weight of it all. But hopelessness is exactly what entrenched power wants – because it keeps people quiet and disengaged.
“If we all just quit, if we all just give up, then we’ll get steamrolled as a society… this is the time to show up and fight if you want our future to be different.” – Former Utah journalist Ty Riggs
The truth is, things can get worse tomorrow. That’s not a reason to hide – it’s a reason to act. Find your motivation, whatever it is, and step up. For some, that means running for office. For others, it’s showing up at city council meetings, organizing neighbors, or simply refusing to let injustice slide by unnoticed. Every bit of resistance matters.
And sometimes, changing the future also means making personal choices in the present. The message is simple: don’t leave your future, political or personal, to chance. Decide what matters to you, take ownership of it, and act while you still can.
Frequently asked questions (FAQ): How Utahns can take back power
Q: How can I stay informed about Utah politics?
A: Follow credible sources like the Salt Lake Tribune, FOX 13’s Ben Winslow, and Bryan Schott. Read your local paper, support it financially, attend city council meetings, and follow watchdogs like Better Utah.
Q: What’s happening to local journalism in Utah?
A: Newsrooms have been gutted by lost ad revenue, paywalls, and corporate cuts. Fewer reporters means less oversight of government.
Q: How can I help keep independent journalism alive?
A: Subscribe, donate, and share impactful stories. Start discussions about local news with friends and family to rebuild community conversation.
Q: What’s the most effective way for Gen Z to influence politics?
A: Vote in every election, run for local offices, show up early to vet candidates, organize peers, and build coalitions with other groups.
Q: How do Utah’s “family values” match up with policy?
A: Utah lags in paid family leave, childcare, and postpartum care. Electing more women and moderates, and breaking the GOP supermajority, could shift priorities toward real family support.
Q: What should voters know about Governor Spencer Cox?
A: Initially seen as a centrist, Cox has moved right and largely avoided challenging the legislature. Track his actions, not just his rhetoric, and reward leaders who show courage.
Q: How can communities resist ICE in Utah?
A: Use alert apps like ICE Block, pressure local officials to refuse ICE partnerships, make your opposition visible, and support vulnerable neighbors.
Q: What are the risks of AI and data privacy in Utah?
A: The U.S. lacks strong privacy protections. AI data centers consume huge resources and the tech is largely unregulated. Push for data rights, monitor environmental impacts, and use AI responsibly.
Q: How do I stay engaged when the system feels broken?
A: Don’t quit. Keep voting, organizing, and speaking up. Entrenched power thrives on apathy – consistent action is the only antidote.