Franklin, WI

Franklin, Wisconsin, has long been a solidly conservative community, and while the Cook PVI of R+2 might not scream "deep red," it reflects a quiet, steady Republican lean that has defined the city for decades. I’ve lived here long enough to remember when you could count on a straight-ticket Republican vote in every local election, and that’s still the baseline. But over the last five or six years, you’ve started to see some cracks—not a full shift, but a slow drift toward the kind of suburban moderation that worries folks who value limited government and personal freedoms. The city council and school board races are where you really feel it; they used to be sleepy affairs, but now you’ve got candidates pushing progressive talking points on everything from zoning to curriculum, and it’s getting harder to keep the old guard in place.

How it compares

Franklin sits in a bit of a political bubble compared to its neighbors. Head north into Milwaukee proper, and you’re in a deep-blue stronghold where the city council and county board are all about expanding government programs and restricting property rights. Drive west to Waukesha County—places like Brookfield or Waukesha itself—and you’re in R+15 territory, where the conservative base is so thick you can almost feel it. Franklin is the buffer zone: we’re not as reliably red as Waukesha, but we’re a world away from Milwaukee’s progressive machine. The contrast is stark when you look at how the two counties handle things like tax rates or school choice. In Franklin, we’ve kept property taxes relatively low and resisted the kind of overreach you see in Milwaukee, where the city council has tried to mandate everything from paid leave to rent control. That’s the kind of government creep that makes you nervous, and it’s why a lot of us keep a close eye on any candidate who talks about "equity" or "inclusion" as a policy goal.

What this means for residents

For the average Franklin family, the political climate here means you’ve still got a decent shot at keeping government out of your daily life. The city’s zoning laws are fairly permissive—you can put up a fence or build a shed without jumping through a dozen hoops—and the school board has held the line against the kind of critical race theory and gender ideology battles that have torn apart districts in other suburbs. But it’s not a guarantee. The last few years have seen a push for more "diversity, equity, and inclusion" training in the schools, and while it hasn’t taken full hold, it’s a sign of where things could go if the progressive wing gains more seats. Property taxes here are still reasonable compared to Milwaukee County, but every budget cycle brings new proposals for spending on bike lanes, public art, or "community engagement" programs that feel like a waste of your hard-earned money. If you value personal freedom—the right to live your life without a bureaucrat telling you how to do it—Franklin is still a good bet, but you’ve got to stay engaged. The long-term trend is concerning: as Milwaukee’s influence spreads outward, the pressure to adopt its policies will only grow.

Culturally, Franklin has always been a place where people mind their own business and take care of their own property. You don’t see the kind of activist energy you get in Madison or Milwaukee—no protests on the corner, no city council meetings that turn into shouting matches. That’s a blessing, but it also means the quiet shift toward progressive ideology can happen under the radar. The biggest policy distinction I’d point to is the city’s approach to law enforcement: Franklin has consistently funded its police department and resisted calls to "defund" or redirect resources, which is a huge relief. But if you look at the school board’s recent adoption of a "restorative justice" program, you can see the thin edge of the wedge. It’s not a crisis yet, but it’s a reminder that the fight for limited government and personal freedom never really ends—it just changes zip codes.