No Lines Were Redrawn: What Ohio’s County Map Reveals About Political Power

By Shannon Jones

Ohio used to be called the nation’s political bellwether. For more than a century, if you wanted to predict a presidential winner, you looked at Ohio. We were a state that mirrored the country—competitive, balanced, and often decided by the slimmest of margins.

I’ve seen and felt those political winds shift over time, and I know Ohio has long since lost its bellwether status. But when I saw a tweet from Karen Kasler—a veteran political reporter who covers the Ohio Statehouse—showing two maps of Ohio’s county commissions side by side, I stopped cold. The maps, spanning three decades, reveal a dramatic shift in the political makeup of the elected boards of county commissioners in nearly every county in the state.

Even for the most seasoned of us, those two maps are shocking. In 86 of Ohio’s 88 counties, three-member boards of commissioners were once a political checkerboard of diversity—Republican-led, Democrat-led, and split boards scattered across the state. Today, nearly all are under Republican control.

These aren’t congressional districts. These are county commissions. And nobody redrew these lines.

In an era when gerrymandering is often blamed for political polarization—when we say representatives are choosing their voters instead of the other way around—this shift tells a different story. Because here’s the truth: county lines aren’t gerrymandered. They’ve been the same for generations.

The transformation we see in this map didn’t happen through cartography. It happened through elections. It happened because voters chose.

I’ve spent my career in public service at all three levels of government—first in the U.S. Congress, where I served in senior staff roles, then as an elected member of the Ohio House and Senate, and now as a county commissioner. I’ve seen firsthand how the people who hold local office shape the way government works—and how much influence they quietly wield over people’s daily lives.

The change in this map didn’t happen overnight. It wasn’t a wave or a fluke. It was the result of decades of disciplined work: recruiting candidates, winning local elections, aligning with community values, and earning trust. County by county. Seat by seat. Year after year.

And while this story is about Ohio, it’s not unique to Ohio. Across the country, we’re seeing fewer politically mixed local governments and more one-party dominance—even in places where lines can’t be redrawn. That’s the product of sustained organizing, not structural manipulation.

County commissioners in Ohio hold significant sway over how state and federal programs are implemented. They fund and oversee local agencies responsible for administering Medicaid, investigating child abuse, maintaining infrastructure, and driving economic development. They decide which services get prioritized—and which ones don’t.

I’ve sat at that table. I’ve watched how those decisions get made. And I can tell you: these aren’t just “local” choices. They determine how state policy plays out on the ground and whether federal investments deliver on their promise.

In a state like Ohio—where authority is shared between state government and local control—county commissioners are not just local officials. They are key players in turning policy into practice. And yet, they are often invisible in statewide advocacy strategies.

For advocates and funders, this map should be more than a curiosity. It’s a case study in where political power is built and how it lasts.

If your strategy begins and ends at the Statehouse—or worse, in Washington D.C.—you’re missing the places where policy actually gets implemented, adapted, or stalled. You’re missing the policymakers who control the levers you care about most.

And you’re missing an opportunity to compete where the rules of the game are the same for everyone — no gerrymandering, no redistricting battles, just voters and candidates.

Advocates often spend enormous time and energy talking about political process—how districts are drawn, how the rules work, who controls the levers. But for most voters, words like “gerrymandering” fall flat. They don’t connect with daily life. And in this case, as the county commission map makes clear, the process isn’t even relevant—county lines don’t change.

What changes outcomes is the hard, unglamorous work of educating people about why issues matter, building coalitions that create momentum, and earning support one conversation, one relationship, one election at a time.

That’s how, over decades, Ohio’s county commissions shifted from a political checkerboard to a sea of red—without a single line being redrawn.

For funders, advocates, and policy leaders anywhere in the country, the takeaway is clear: you have to work with the map you have, whatever it looks like in your state or community. Identify the decision maker—whether they’re county commissioners, state legislators, school board members, regional health authorities, city councils, or others—who hold real influence over the outcomes you care about and invest in long-term engagement with them.

And you must get over the fact that those policymakers may look and sound different than what you’re used to—or that they may not share your exact recipe for policy advancement. You don’t have to like it. You just have to do it. The work is still to educate, persuade, and win.

No excuses. No shortcuts.

If you’re not doing this work, someone else is—and they’re winning. Winning lasting change means showing up in every community, earning every supporter you can, and keeping the conversation focused on what matters in people’s daily lives. That’s how you build trust that endures, create momentum that lasts, and turn ideas into results.