According to author Joe Holley, the story of the Texas Electric Cooperatives, a collective of some 76 member-owned electric providers throughout the state, is a story of neighborliness and community, grit and determination, and persuasion and political savvy. It’s the story of a grassroots movement that not only energized rural Texas but also showed residents the power they have when they band together to find strength in unity. Opening with the coming of electricity to Texas’ major cities at the turn of the twentieth century, How the Electric Co-op Movement Energized the Lone Star State describes the dramatic differences between urban and rural life. Though the major cities of Texas were marvels of nighttime brilliance, the countryside remained as dark as it had been for centuries before. It was not economical for the startup electrical companies to provide service to far-flung rural areas, so they were forced to do without. Beginning with the New Deal–era efforts of Sam Rayburn, Lyndon Johnson, and others, Holley chronicles the birth and development of the electric cooperative movement in Texas, including the 1935 federal act that created the Rural Electrification Administration. Holley concludes with the devastation wrought by Winter Storm Uri in February 2021 and the intense debate that continues around climate resilience and the Electric Reliability Council of Texas (ERCOT), overseer of the state’s electric grid, all of which has profound implications for rural electric cooperatives who receive their allocations according to procedures administered by ERCOT. Power is sure to enlighten, entertain, and energize readers and policymakers alike.
“The greatest thing on Earth is to have the love of God in your heart, and the next greatest thing is to have electricity in your home” (p.249).
Joe Holley’s “Power: How the Electric Co-op Movement Energized the Lone Star State” was splendid. Most of Han’s family is involved in the co-op world in some way or another, so it was fun to step into that world if even only for a little bit as I read this book. And let me say, my Thanksgiving table talk just got a serious upgrade.
But beyond why I picked it up, the book itself was a delight. It truly snuck up on me and might even be a contender for my book of the year. If it weren’t for the rain last night I would have finished this in one sitting, but I pushed it to two. I must admit, I saw it was written by a journalist and published by Texas A&M Press, and I braced myself for a dry history of rural electrification. What I found instead was a story full of grit, warmth, and real people. Holley takes something as unglamorous as the electric cooperative movement and turns it into a story about faith, neighborliness, and the Texas spirit of getting things done.
The book works because it’s narratively driven. Holley writes like a reporter who loves good storytelling. He focuses less on policy and more on the people. Like the farmers, preachers, and small town dreamers who refused to let their communities stay in the dark. They didn’t wait for Austin or Washington. They pooled their money, rolled up their sleeves, and built something lasting.
“Power” is a celebration of communitarianism and localism. The early co-op movement wasn’t just about electricity. It was about a way of life. People dreamed of cooperative farms, local phone exchanges, and community hospitals. They wanted progress that didn’t erase their sense of place modernity that still felt human.
That vision feels out of step with today’s politics. Modern Republicans might bristle at the Dixiecrat populism that fueled this kind of cooperation. There’s a shared responsibility here that clashes with the hyper-individualism of today’s right. Modern Democrats might feel just as uneasy that churches were at the center of it all. The church gave people their moral vision and the structure to live it out. Holley doesn’t moralize or take sides. He simply tells the story as it was. The co-op movement reminds us that freedom and community belong together. It was populist without being chaotic. Democratic, yet still suspicious of distant authority. Ordinary Texans built the common good without giving up their independence.
Holley’s “Power” stirred something in me. I’ve been reading a lot of political theology lately, and I couldn’t help but think about Kuyper’s idea of sphere sovereignty. How God gives each part of life, church, family, state, and community, its own dignity and calling under His rule. Those rural Texans lived that out intuitively. They didn’t theorize about it. They simply loved their neighbors and got to work. That’s the quiet beauty of “Power.” It’s a reminder that small acts of faithfulness can still push back the darkness. The light those communities strung across the prairie hasn’t gone out. It still shines in the imagination of what it means to build a good and godly life together.
Holley ends the book in the twenty first century, reminding us that in 2020, one in three adult Texans still didn’t have access to broadband internet. So, the rural electric co-ops stepped in again. This time to bring reliable broadband and fiber internet to rural communities. And now they’re pushing for renewable and fusion energy. The co-op was never just about electricity. It was about people. And it still is.
May this book remind us to look at our own communities and get to work building, serving, and making life better for all Texans.
As a lifelong Texan I did enjoy this book. It’s dense with many acronyms, but if you were here during Uri and or have experienced blackouts you might enjoy this read about the origin of it all.