Holladay, UT

Holladay, Utah, has long been a reliably conservative community, and by the numbers, it still leans that way with a Cook PVI of R+10. But if you’ve lived here as long as I have, you’ve felt the ground shift under your feet. The old, rock-ribbed Republican consensus that defined this town for decades is being quietly challenged by an influx of folks from the coast and a younger generation who see things differently. It’s not a blue wave—not yet—but it’s a noticeable purple tinge that has me watching local city council meetings a lot more closely than I used to.

How it compares

To understand Holladay’s politics, you have to look at the neighbors. Drive five miles west into Salt Lake City proper, and you’re in a solidly blue urban core where progressive policies on housing, taxes, and public spending are the norm. Head east up into the foothills or south toward Cottonwood Heights, and you’re back in deep-red territory where the biggest political fights are about keeping property taxes low and development at bay. Holladay sits right in the middle—conservative enough to have voted for Trump twice, but liberal enough to have elected a few Democrats to local office in recent cycles. The real contrast is with towns like Draper or Alpine, where the R+10 would look like a moderate compromise. Here, that number feels like a ceiling, not a floor, and I worry it’s cracking.

What this means for residents

For those of us who value limited government and personal freedom, the trend is concerning. The most visible sign is the creeping expansion of city ordinances into what used to be private matters. We’ve seen debates over short-term rental restrictions that go beyond common-sense noise complaints and into outright bans. There’s been talk of stricter landscaping mandates—telling you what you can plant and how much water you can use—that feel less like conservation and more like control. The school board, too, has seen a push for curriculum changes that emphasize social-emotional learning over core academics, which many of us see as government overreach into how we raise our kids. The long-term trajectory, if this keeps up, is a slow erosion of the hands-off, neighborly ethos that made Holladay a great place to raise a family. You don’t notice it year to year, but over a decade, the difference is stark.

What daily life is like for families

On the ground, most days are still pleasant. The parks are clean, the streets are safe, and you can still have a conversation with your neighbor without stepping on a political landmine. But the cultural fault lines are showing. At the grocery store or the soccer game, you’ll hear more people talking about “equity” and “inclusion” in ways that sound good on the surface but often translate into new policies that restrict what you can do with your own property or how your kids are taught. The local paper’s letters page is a battleground between old-guard conservatives and newer, more progressive voices. For now, the conservative majority holds, but it’s a defensive hold. The worry is that as more people move in from places where government is seen as a solution rather than a necessary evil, the character of Holladay will shift from a place that lets you live your life to a place that tells you how to live it. I hope I’m wrong, but I’m not betting the farm on it.