Every State’s Land Area (Unit: Pennsylvania’s)

While we were in the Smokies, we passed through Murphy, North Carolina, a little town not far across the Georgia border.

I look at the map of the United States often. Given enough time without looking, yes, I could narrow down that either North Carolina and Georgia touch or Tennessee and South Carolina touch, and I like to think that even before visiting Murphy, I would have guessed it was the former states bordering and not the latter pair, if pressed.

Still, I was surprised at how much of an angle that Tennessee/North Carolina border sits on, kind of like how it’s surprising to learn Detroit is east of Atlanta. And I was also surprised to learn how long North Carolina is. Evidently driving across that thing, from Murphy to, say, Kitty Hawk, would take nine and a half hours without stops.

So, let’s run the list of each state’s land area. Yes, this shortchanges states with a lot of inland water, but it can’t be that significant, and it seems more reasonable than giving Michigan credit for a huge share of three Great Lakes and a small share of a fourth, which was the alternative the Census Bureau gave us.

I’ve included in here how many Pennsylvania’s each state is, in area, because while I know that not everyone knows conceptually how big Pennsylvania is, I needed one unit of conversion, and it’s a straightforwardly-enough shaped state that at least a lot of folks in the northeast might get it. If you’re unfamiliar with Pennsylvanian geography, it would take you almost five hours, without stops, to drive from Philadelphia, in the southeast corner, to Pittsburgh, near the western edge, and roughly six and a half to drive from Philly to Erie, near the northwest corner.

Things that jump out:

• Yes, Texas is significantly bigger than California. Two or three Pennsylvania’s bigger. Texas is big.
• Yes, Alaska could fit more than twice as many Pennsylvania’s as Texas.
• The Mercator projection leads to a Dakota surprise. Thought those were roughly identical. Trapezoids, eh?
• Oregon! New Mexico!
• The western U.S. is, as a rule, massive, and we do not appreciate this enough, and even driving it doesn’t adequately teach you this because the roads are so much straighter and the speed limits are so much higher.
• Rhode Island is comically small. One fiftieth of a Pennsylvania.
• Hawaii, sneaky small. I mean, yeah, water, but also those islands looked much bigger on my placemat as a child.
• The averagest-sized state is North Dakota. If you take out Alaska, it’s somewhere between Washington and Georgia.
• Indiana feels bigger than it is but only between Indianapolis and South Bend. Between Indianapolis and Cincinnati or Louisville, it feels tiny.