Wilkes Barre, PA

Wilkes-Barre has long been a reliably conservative stronghold in northeastern Pennsylvania, and despite some demographic and economic shifts over the past decade, the area still leans solidly to the right. The Cook Partisan Voting Index (PVI) for the city and its surrounding Luzerne County sits at R+4, meaning the district votes about four points more Republican than the national average. In the 2024 presidential election, Luzerne County went for Donald Trump by a margin of roughly 12 points, a pattern that has held steady since 2016. That said, you can feel the political ground shifting under your feet if you’ve lived here long enough—especially in the city proper, where younger transplants and out-of-state students from Wilkes University and King’s College have started to nudge things leftward. But step just a few miles outside the city limits into places like Dallas, Kingston, or Mountain Top, and you’re back in deep-red territory where folks still fly the Gadsden flag and talk about property rights over coffee.

How it compares

Wilkes-Barre’s political character stands in sharp contrast to its neighbors to the east and west. Drive 20 miles east to Scranton, and you’ll find a city that’s been trending blue for years—Lackawanna County went for Biden in 2020 and Harris in 2024, driven largely by union households and a growing service-sector workforce. Meanwhile, head west toward Bloomsburg or south toward Hazleton, and you’ll hit towns that are even more conservative than Wilkes-Barre, with Hazleton’s mayor publicly vowing to resist sanctuary city policies and Bloomsburg’s rural outskirts voting +20 points redder. The real contrast, though, is between Wilkes-Barre’s urban core and its surrounding townships. In the city itself, you’ll see more Harris signs and “In This House We Believe” yard placards than you would have a decade ago, but in places like Plains Township or Hanover Township, it’s still a sea of Trump flags and “Don’t Tread on Me” banners. That split is a microcosm of the broader national divide, and it’s getting sharper every election cycle.

What this means for residents

For those of us who’ve lived here a while, the biggest concern is how this creeping progressive influence in the city could lead to government overreach into our daily lives. We’ve already seen the city council flirt with zoning changes that would limit how you can use your own property, and there’s been talk of adopting “equity” policies in local hiring that sound a lot like quotas. The county commissioners, thankfully, have held the line on things like mask mandates and business closures—remember the 2020 lockdowns? Luzerne County was one of the first in the state to push back, and that’s because the local leadership still respects the idea that you don’t get to tell a small business owner how to run their shop. But if the city keeps tilting left, you can bet those fights will come back. For now, most residents in the outlying areas enjoy a pretty hands-off approach from local government—low property taxes relative to the rest of the state, no county-wide income tax, and a sheriff’s office that doesn’t play games with Second Amendment rights.

Culturally, Wilkes-Barre still feels like a place where tradition matters. The annual Cherry Blossom Festival, the strong Catholic and Orthodox church presence, and the local VFW posts are all reminders that this isn’t some transient suburb—it’s a community where people have roots. That said, the long-term trajectory is a little worrying. The city’s population has been slowly declining (down about 5% since 2010), and the younger folks who do move in tend to bring big-city ideas about “inclusivity” and “sustainability” that often translate into more regulations and higher costs. If you’re looking for a place that still values personal freedom and local control, the surrounding townships are where you want to be. The city itself? Keep an eye on it—but don’t hold your breath.