Neal Stephenson on the Polo-Pony Ranches He Chose Not to Write About

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Overview

In a conversation at the Long Now Foundation marking the launch of Polostan, the first book in his new Bomb Light series, Neal Stephenson was asked how he handles the research digressions that pull every writer of historically grounded fiction off course. His answer centered on one example, the polo-pony ranches of 1930s Wyoming. He described it as a rabbit hole he recognized and deliberately stayed out of.

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A Book Full of Rabbit Holes

The host, Charles C. Mann, a nonfiction author, opened by listing a few of the subjects Polostan covers without trying to summarize the whole novel. They included the strategy of polo, exactly what was exhibited at the Chicago World's Fair of the early 1930s, how machine-gun smuggling worked, and Soviet steel production. Mann said that to someone who writes nonfiction, every item on that list signals a rabbit hole.

Mann then described his own habit. His research leaves him with many carefully worked-out excerpts of three or four thousand words that turn out to be completely irrelevant and "just die" on his hard drive. He asked, half reluctant to hear the answer, whether the same thing happens to Stephenson.

Stephenson said it does, and that he is trying to move away from that way of working so he can be more efficient. Mann replied, "good luck." Stephenson added that he can now identify a rabbit hole when he sees one, and that learning this skill takes a while.

Why Polo Kept Appearing in the 1930s

Stephenson's main example came from the book's setting, mostly the 1930s. He said he kept running into polo unexpectedly and found it strange. Today polo looks like the ultimate niche sport for fancy, upper-crust people. Stephenson said that in that era it was far more widespread.

His explanation was military. Armies still had horse cavalry, and wherever there was active cavalry there was polo, because polo was the training technique for maintaining riding skills. As an illustration he pointed out that even the Soviet Red Army had a polo team. In his framing, the game was training for war as much as a leisure pursuit.

The Ranches Near Gillette, Wyoming

Following that thread, Stephenson said, led him to something he "did not see coming at all." There were ranches around Gillette, Wyoming, that bred and trained polo ponies for a worldwide market. According to Stephenson, that market was much larger then than it is now.

Breeding the animals was not enough. He explained that the ponies had to be taught to play the game to some degree, or they were useless to buyers. So the people who worked on these ranches all knew how to play polo, because it was part of the job. Stephenson described the staff as white cowboys, Black workers, Native Americans, and Hispanic workers. The result, in his description, was "incredibly multi-ethnic teams of expert polo players" riding around Wyoming and training animals for a sport associated with the upper classes.

Wealthy people from all over the world would travel to these ranches on something like vacation safaris. They looked over what was for sale and went home with expensive horses.

Choosing Not to Go There

Stephenson called this "a rabbit hole to end all rabbit holes." He said he takes some pride in not following it in the book. When Mann asked whether this meant there was no 150-page section about it, Stephenson confirmed there is not, though he acknowledged there easily could have been.

The novel instead mentions the ranches only briefly, as a fact about the world. The detail does have a narrative job, though. The main character, a young woman named Dawn, once worked on one of these ranches. That history explains how she knows how to play polo even though she clearly does not come from the social class that normally plays it.

In Stephenson's account, the research still mattered. He used it to give a character a plausible background, and he declined to turn it into an extended digression.