Von Thünen’s “isolated state”: one city on a flat, featureless plain. Every farmer must haul what they grow to that one market, and every kilometre costs money. Change the numbers and watch the countryside sort itself into rings.
Starting point: an 1826 farm cart on a dirt road.
Transport cost is the engine of the model. Every crop pays it, but the perishable and the bulky pay most.
Perishability is how fast a crop’s value drains away with every kilometre hauled. Bulky, heavy goods like timber behave the same way.
| Land use | From | To | Width |
|---|
Every crop makes a bid for each patch of land: the most it could pay in rent and still make money. The bid is highest at the market gate and falls with every kilometre of hauling. Perishable and bulky products fall fastest, so they can only outbid other crops close to town. Whichever crop bids highest gets the land — and because bids fall in straight lines at different slopes, the winners come out in bands. On a flat plain with one market, bands are rings.
The chart under the map is a slice through the map along the dashed line. Where two curves cross, a ring boundary sits directly above it. Where the last curve reaches zero, farming stops.
Von Thünen only got clean rings by assuming a lot away. Each assumption is a place where the real world bends the pattern — and each one is something this sandbox lets you break.
Every ring stretches outward. The order of the rings does not change — only how far each one reaches. This is what railways did in the 1800s: a city’s food supply suddenly came from hundreds of kilometres away.
Forestry disappears. Dairy no longer loses value fast, so its bid stays above forestry’s at every distance. A ring only exists where a crop wins somewhere; a technology that flattens one crop’s curve can erase its neighbour.
The rings stretch out along the river, because it is cost of transport, not straight-line distance, that decides land use. A farm far upriver can be “closer” to market than a farm a short way overland.
They became half-rings. Half the hinterland is sea, so the land the city can draw on is fan-shaped. Real port cities look like this.
A dividing line appears halfway between the towns; farmers on each side sell to their nearer market. With cheap transport the outer rings would overlap, but each farmer still picks the closer town, so the boundary stays and the rings on both sides are cut flat against it.