It’s little wonder that the federal government and national politics have taken the front seat in so many political discussions: not only do they have an ever-increasing role in our lives — far beyond what was originally intended —but the internet has also further facilitated the ability of people from around the country (and the world) to interact.

That’s a shame, as local government — town, city, and county — is a fascinating subject and the sheer variety of forms and mores just in the United States is a thing to behold.

I grew-up in an unincorporated part of the San Juan Islands in Washington State — if the name’s familiar, you might recognize it as Jonah Goldberg’s summer retreat — where local government consisted of the county commissioners and their departments, four independently elected officials (including the sheriff), and the county judges (also elected independently). The county’s sole incorporated town has its own government, but constitutes less than 1/6th of the population.

Complicating all of this is the place’s unusual geography, which spans 174 islands just south of Canada, none of which have road access to the mainland. As a result, the overwhelming majority of traffic to and from the islands comes through the Washington State Ferries, which are administered through the state Department of Transportation. Moreover, the Islands’ status as a popular international crossing means that US Customs and Border Patrol both have a local — and little-loved — presence (with the Coast Guard close at hand as well). To top it all off, one of the islands has a national park, split between two locations, which adds yet another layer of contact with the federal government.

Here in Massachusetts, counties barely exist; outside of corrections and the court system, they’re just lines on a map. Everything else is either dealt with by town or state government (as in much of New England, every square inch of the place is incorporated). Very few local offices are directly elected and, to the best of my knowledge, all police chiefs are appointed by the towns they serve. The idea of law enforcement being popularly elected is so alien up here that an ex-girlfriend of mine was simply incredulous when I described the process to her.

In between these extremes, I’ve lived under a variety of other systems. Two places — Duluth, Minnesota and Pasadena, California — both had meaningful city and county governments; Incline Village, Nevada is run by a general improvement district, which operates much like a scaled-down town but is technically a part of the county; and Lexington, Kentucky has borders that are essentially identical to those of Fayette County. Out of morbid curiosity, I’ve also attended city council meetings in Washington, DC, whose set-up is a truly unique style of weird.

The variation, however, goes beyond how one draws the boundaries and delineates responsibility between different levels of government. It includes huge differences in attitudes toward governance itself. In many places, local administrators exercise tremendous autonomy between elections: if you don’t like what they’re doing, you can try to un-elect them the next time; until then, you’re stuck with writing letters to the editor or politely asking questions at the end of meetings (just be sure to keep them short).

In Northern New England, however, there’s a completely different — and vociferously democratic — tradition. A few years back, I got to observe an annual meeting of small town in Down East Maine. Under this system, the selectmen proposed an annual budget and regulatory changes but had no authority to enact them without a line-by-line approval from a majority of citizens at the (well-attended) meeting. Each item was read aloud by the selectmen who then had to take questions from the assembled citizens before a voice vote was taken.

Down East Mainers may not look like the most sophisticated lot — the room was filled with sharp Yankee accents, plaid shirts, and ship-calloused hands (the men were a rugged-looking bunch too) — but the questions were unbelievably trenchant and pointed. The highlight of the meeting, which took most of the day, was when the school budget was unexpectedly voted down by the residents. The shamefaced superintendent slinked off the stage and was forced to present a new budget a few weeks later, which I gather was approved.

Given the variety of just what I’ve seen, I’m probably just skimming the surface.

How does your town, city, and county work?  What do you like, and dislike about the system?  I’m particularly interested to hear from non-American Ricochoise.