Mark Glyptis voted last year for Donald Trump and his vow to use tariffs as a tool to revive U.S. manufacturing. It’s a tool that’s not panned out yet for steelworkers in Weirton, a West Virginia city of 18,000 people built on steel. The mill’s last working section that made tinplate was idled in May, affecting 600 union jobs.
Mr. Glyptis, a third-generation steelworker and union president, reckons that import tariffs will eventually yield more jobs in steel and other industries along the Ohio River Valley. But he sees a long road ahead. “It took 40, 50 years for us to get here. You’re not going to solve it in a year or two. It’s going to take quite some time,” he says.
In Gainesville, Georgia, a city of 47,000 northeast of Atlanta, it’s a different story. For years, the city has been adding jobs as new factories open up, taking advantage of light-touch regulations, a growing workforce, and low energy costs. Known for its poultry slaughterhouses, Gainesville is now a manufacturing hub where startups can find engineers and greenfield sites.
Why We Wrote This
Donald Trump was elected partly on the promise of a factory renaissance. Made-in-America may come back, but not necessarily in the places that led U.S. manufacturing 80 years ago.
Even as President Trump touts his new array of tariffs – including higher ones on steel imports just as of Friday – these two communities symbolize a stark reality: Not every town that hopes for a rapid manufacturing revival will get one.
Any tariff-induced renaissance for U.S. manufacturing is likely to be spread unevenly. Sun Belt towns like Gainesville are in pole position to compete for investment amid a surge in factory construction, undergirded, in part, by President Joe Biden’s clean energy incentives. Much of that surge has occurred in Republican-run, less labor-friendly states like Georgia, rather than in the industrial Midwest where Mr. Trump won his most pivotal voters – disgruntled blue-collar workers who propelled his victory in key swing states, cementing election wins in both 2016 and 2024.
“One thing’s for sure: The same industries are not going to once again employ 5, 10, or 15,000 people” in Weirton, where once virtually everyone worked in steel or a mill-dependent business, says Lou Martin, a labor historian at Chatham University in Pittsburgh. “It’ll never be like it was.”
This doesn’t mean new factories can’t – and won’t – be built in all corners, including in Weirton itself, less than an hour’s drive west of Pittsburgh. But several forces create headwinds for a broad resurgence of manufacturing employment, especially one centered in Rust Belt states from Wisconsin to Pennsylvania:
- The tariffs themselves don’t create jobs instantly. So far this year, they have created mostly uncertainty and disruption for businesses.
- Today’s new factories employ fewer people than those of yesteryear.
- Southern states appear to have an edge over the Rust Belt, an edge that tariffs don’t solve. This is a problem for Republicans hoping to deliver economic gains for supporters in swing states like Michigan. But it also may challenge politicians on the left, some of whom have blamed unfair competition from abroad – rather than from less regulated red states – for the hardships faced by blue-collar towns in the Midwest and Northeast.
President Trump campaigned on a promise to bring back factory jobs after decades of decline in places like Weirton. In April, he slapped importers with unilateral tariffs that he said would “supercharge our domestic industrial base.” So far, the economic uncertainty caused by tariffs – many of which were ruled unconstitutional by a federal court in a May 28 ruling that is on hold pending an appeal – has eclipsed any uptick in manufacturing. Still, the White House has said that the president’s tariffs are a reason many companies have announced plans to build U.S. factories, including for pharmaceuticals, automobiles, and electronics.
On Friday, Mr. Trump said he would double tariffs on foreign steel and aluminum to 50% to support domestic producers during a visit to a United States Steel plant near Pittsburgh. Japan’s Nippon Steel is seeking to acquire U.S. Steel, a deal that Mr. Trump opposed while a candidate but has since recast as a “partnership” of equals that would protect jobs.
Julia Demaree Nikhinson/AP
Even where hiring is happening, automation is boosting productivity while limiting the gains made in manufacturing employment. Today, 12.8 million people work in manufacturing, accounting for less than 1 in 10 private sector jobs. That’s about the same number as in 2019. In 1979, before the precipitous decline of steel and other industries and the rise of China as the world’s factory floor, nearly 20 million American workers – 1 in 5 – labored in factories.
Those jobs provided a reliable ladder to the middle class for generations of workers who never went to college. Today, wages have been growing faster in service industries and, on average, surpass what manufacturers pay. Research also shows that having more manufacturing in an area is no longer the recipe for economic mobility that it once was, and that even when factories are built in deprived towns, the workers may come from elsewhere.
And when politicians focus on factory jobs going overseas, they miss a crucial reason the Rust Belt – a coinage from 1982 – has endured waves of deindustrialization, argues Gary Winslett, a political scientist at Middlebury College who directs its International Politics and Economics program. Interstate competition from the South, which began in the 1940s with textile mills relocating from New England, has upended where U.S. manufacturing happens, from steel to cars to machinery. Alabama is now the top state for auto exports, followed by South Carolina.
This shift is politically inconvenient for progressive politicians such as Sen. Bernie Sanders of Vermont, who blame globalization for the decline of manufacturing and overlook the boom in factories being built in union-averse, lightly regulated states in the South, says Professor Winslett. “They run with the convenient narrative even if it’s not actually the most accurate explanation.”
Of the jobs gained in manufacturing since the pandemic, 62% were added in five states – Texas, Florida, Arizona, Georgia, and Utah – according to a 2024 report by an economic think tank. The majority of clean energy investments announced since the 2022 Inflation Reduction Act passed have been in GOP-held congressional districts, many of them in the South.
Prosperity in Georgia
In Georgia, auto suppliers are among the industries that have powered Gainesville’s makeover from a gritty chicken-plant city to one with parks, downtown cafés, and $400,000 houses. In 2010, around 15,000 people were employed in manufacturing. Now, it’s over 25,000 workers.
Brian Brandstetter used to deliver pumps to slaughterhouses in what he calls “a small north Georgia town with not much going on but chickens.” Twenty years later, “It’s almost a different place. You sit in traffic and wonder, ‘Where are all these people going?’”
Two years ago, Warren Environmental, which makes epoxy-based coatings for water pipes, relocated from Marlborough, Massachusetts, to Gainesville. When Mr. Brandstetter, the company’s president, thinks about tariffs and trade, he thinks about finding more export markets for his made-in-the-USA products. Manufacturing is good business and good for society, he says. “As a nation, we lost the value of these kinds of jobs, and I’m glad we’re part of bringing them back.”
Gainesville’s boosters say the city created the conditions for manufacturing to grow by improving its infrastructure and promoting cultural and social values, including access to nature and downtown living. The city devised a growth strategy with the University of Georgia’s Vinson Institute for Government and, over the past 10 years, spent around $500 million to improve public schools and build music venues and other public infrastructure.
This has provided “a catalyst for growth and opportunity built for people instead of for automobiles,” says Daniel Bivins, an associate at the Vinson Institute who has worked with city and county officials.
In Massachusetts, Warren struggled to satisfy regulations for its chemical processes. Local officials in Gainesville made permitting easy by comparison. “They were just so welcoming and helpful,” says Lisa Barrus, the company’s operations manager. “It was a very complex process, but they went out of their way to help us navigate all the hurdles.”
Fast-track permitting, lower taxes, and cheap land have underpinned the steady expansion in manufacturing across the South, say analysts. States like Georgia and South Carolina also build far more housing than Democratic-run states in the Midwest and Northeast. That makes it easier for workers to relocate and for companies to retain employees, including those with families.
Those workers include migrants, who began moving to Gainesville in the 1980s to work in poultry plants.
“Immigration has helped the South a lot,” says Professor Winslett. But “That doesn’t really flow with the narratives Republicans want to sell.”
Simon Montlake/The Christian Science Monitor
Story of a steel town
Weirton was built on migration. Founded in 1909, the Weirton Steel Corp. drew workers from across Europe who joined a workforce that peaked at 13,000 by midcentury. The mill loomed over the city. Its blast furnaces rumbled so loudly that the sound unnerved visiting high school football teams, recalls Ryan Weld, a West Virginia state senator who grew up in a steel family.
It was part of an industry that straddled southwestern Pennsylvania and northeast Ohio, where metallurgical coal was plentiful. The region dominated America’s iron and steel production before its precipitous decline as companies failed to adopt new technologies, says Chris Briem, an economist at the University of Pittsburgh. In 1952, the Pittsburgh region employed 168,000 metalworkers. Today, the number of people working in the industry stands at 10,000.
Some blame labor unions for driving up wage costs as steelmakers were facing competition from foreign imports. But the structural changes in steelmaking were far more consequential, argues Professor Briem, the author of a forthcoming book on the industry. Even if an integrated steel plant could be operated in Pittsburgh with a nonunion workforce, it couldn’t compete with modern minimills fed by scrap metal, many of which are located in the South.
Mr. Glyptis, the West Virginia union president, has lived through these changes, watching his union steadily shrink as Weirton’s steelworks contracted. Today, the remaining mill is part of Cleveland-Cliffs, based in Ohio. In February 2024, after the company lost a case over tariffs on steel imports, it shuttered its tinplate facility in Weirton and laid off 900 employees, some of whom relocated to other plants.
“There’s been a lot of pain,” he says. Last July, though, he got a reprieve when Cleveland-Cliffs’ chairman and chief executive, Lourenco Goncalves, visited Weirton to announce a $150 million investment to make electric transformers. West Virginia agreed to commit $50 million to the project, which would create 600 jobs for steelworkers.
Now that project may be abandoned. And far from helping, Mr. Trump’s tariffs are hurting.
In May, Cleveland-Cliffs said it would idle Weirton and several other facilities in Illinois, Minnesota, and Pennsylvania after it lost $480 million in the first quarter of 2025 due to weak demand for rolled steel. The fall in demand came as U.S. automakers reeled from Mr. Trump’s tariffs and uncertainty over demand for new vehicles.
Mr. Glyptis says he’s still hopeful that Cleveland-Cliffs will restart operations, and praises Mr. Goncalves for his “compassionate” handling of layoffs. Elected officials are more caustic toward the company, saying it gave false hope to the community. Patrick McGeehan, a Republican state representative and the majority leader, says Mr. Goncalves had assured him the company could make transformers, but then claimed it didn’t have in-house technology.
New – and nonunion – battery jobs
Across the railroad tracks from a shuttered steel plant, a new whitewashed factory with a glassed atrium now extends toward the Ohio River. Form Energy, a startup led by a former Tesla executive, is building iron-air batteries for power utilities to store up to 100 hours of energy. The factory, which is being expanded, was built atop the buried steel slag and underground tunnels of a disused steel mill, a metaphor for the city’s attempted pivot.
Inside the factory, Senator Weld admires a display in the atrium that charts Weirton Steel’s rise and fall and the men and women who worked there. “That’s my grandfather’s badge,” he says, pointing to a round stamped metal token that workers carried.
After Form Energy chose Weirton as a site to build its plant, Mr. Weld sponsored legislation in 2023 to authorize up to $290 million in state subsidies for the project, which is expected to create 750 jobs by 2028. He faced opposition from lawmakers who balked at underwriting what some decried as a “woke” company pushing green energy in a state built on fossil fuels. (Representative McGeehan was among the opponents.)
Mr. Weld and other supporters prevailed in the end. He points out that battery storage isn’t just for renewable energy and that Form Energy had its pick of locations in other states that offer subsidies. “I have a responsibility to my district and to the people here to do everything I can to bring jobs to this area. That’s why I fought so hard. I grew up here,” he says.
Form Energy’s average salary in Weirton will be $63,000 a year, and the majority of factory positions don’t require a college degree, says Sarah Bray, a company spokesperson. It plans to ship its first commercial-scale battery this year to a power utility in Minnesota.
Form Energy also received a $150 million federal grant under the 2021 Infrastructure Investment and Jobs Act that, along with the Inflation Reduction Act, authorized hundreds of billions of dollars in clean energy financing.
Now, the Republican-written spending bill that passed in May by the U.S. House of Representatives would restrict future subsidies for battery production and installation, potentially deterring utilities from buying batteries. Manufacturers are already grappling with tariffs that drive up the cost of foreign inputs for batteries. Ms. Bray says 80% of Form Energy’s supply chain is domestic, and it is looking into “reshoring opportunities” for the remainder.
The factory’s construction – it will eventually fill 850,000 square feet – has already brought money into the community as crews fill gas tanks and eat locally, says Michael Adams, the city manager, whose grandfather emigrated from Greece to work at Weirton Steel. It’s provided hope “that we haven’t seen in a long, long time,” he says. “You inject a little bit of hope and people say, ‘Well, I can ride this rough patch out for a little while and see if I have a shot at getting a job there.’”
Those jobs are nonunion. Mr. Glyptis doesn’t have a problem with that. A job is a job, and Form Energy is hiring some former steelworkers. “It’s about the people, not the union, is the way I look at it. … The union is important, but if people are treated fairly, they’re treated safely, and they work under safe conditions and a good environment, that’s what’s important to me,” he says.
Rising opportunity – if workers can be found
Sixteen miles north in Newell, at the top of West Virginia’s northern panhandle, which follows the Ohio River, is a family-owned manufacturer that stands to benefit from Mr. Trump’s tariffs. The Fiesta Tableware Co. makes brightly colored dinnerware items that have become collectibles, giving an edge over rival imports.
If orders do surge, one problem for the company – as for many manufacturers – is finding workers. Trade schools don’t teach pottery, and Fiesta has no competitors to poach from because most dinnerware is now imported from China, Portugal, and other countries.
The challenge may grow: Since Mr. Trump imposed unilateral tariffs, Fiesta says it has received requests from retailers for more of its products. Matt Wicks, the chief operating officer and a fourth-generation family owner, says he hopes the tariffs remain and support more manufacturing at home.
“We’re all about pushing for America-made tableware,” he says. “That’s what our country was built on.”
