Amish communities in Pennsylvania, Ohio, and Indiana have increasingly adopted electric bicycles as transportation alternatives to traditional horse-and-buggy travel, creating theological tensions within groups known for rejecting modern technology. The trend, observed by researchers and local businesses since around 2020, accelerated through 2024 and 2025 as e-bike technology improved and prices declined, making them accessible to communities traditionally skeptical of motorized transport.
The adoption varies dramatically across Amish settlements, reflecting the decentralized nature of Amish church governance. Each congregation, led by a bishop and elected ministers, establishes its own Ordnung, the set of rules governing acceptable technology and behavior. Some bishops permit e-bikes while prohibiting automobiles, creating what outsiders might view as inconsistent positions but which Amish themselves see as carefully considered distinctions.
"The bicycle itself has been acceptable in many Amish communities for decades," explained Donald Kraybill, a scholar of Anabaptist communities at Elizabethtown College in Pennsylvania, in an interview with religious studies publication Christian Century in 2024. "The electric motor assistance doesn't fundamentally change the bicycle's nature as human-powered transport that keeps riders engaged with their immediate environment in ways automobiles don't."
Amish communities generally resist technologies they believe will disrupt family cohesion, promote individualism over community, or connect them too closely to the broader secular world. Cars represent particular concern because they enable easy travel to distant cities, potentially exposing community members to worldly influences and making it simple to leave Amish life. Horse-and-buggy travel, by contrast, limits range and keeps people rooted in local communities.
E-bikes occupy an interesting middle ground. They extend range beyond traditional bicycles, allowing trips that might otherwise require hiring drivers or using prohibited vehicles. However, they don't enable the same freedom of movement as automobiles, maintaining some of the practical constraints that keep communities geographically cohesive. Riders remain exposed to weather and terrain in ways that preserve the humility and connection to God's creation that Amish theology values.
The practical benefits prove substantial. Amish craftsmen, farmers, and shop owners can transport tools, goods, and supplies more efficiently than traditional bicycles allow while avoiding the compromises involved in automobile use. Families can travel to church services, schools, and community gatherings across distances that walking or standard bicycles make arduous, particularly for elderly or less physically capable members.
Some bishops permit e-bikes only for specific purposes such as work-related travel while prohibiting recreational use, maintaining distinctions between necessity and luxury that govern much Amish technology adoption. Others allow e-bikes only with motor assistance limited to certain speeds or power outputs, drawing lines meant to preserve the "bicycling experience" rather than creating motorcycle-like vehicles.
The economic factor shouldn't be overlooked. Maintaining horses requires substantial expense including feed, veterinary care, and stable facilities. A quality buggy horse costs several thousand dollars and needs replacement every decade or so. E-bikes, while initially expensive at $1,500 to $4,000 for quality models, require minimal ongoing maintenance and electricity costs nearly nothing compared to horse upkeep.
Not all Amish approve of the trend. Conservative bishops and church members argue that e-bikes represent the thin edge of a wedge that will lead to progressively greater technology acceptance and erosion of traditional practices. They point to communities where bicycle acceptance led eventually to tractors, then trucks, and ultimately near-complete integration with mainstream American society.
"Once you accept the motor, you've crossed a fundamental line," argued one conservative Amish father quoted anonymously in a 2025 Mennonite publication. "Today it's electric bicycles, tomorrow it's electric cars, and eventually we're indistinguishable from the English world around us. Where does it end?"
This slippery slope argument has historical precedent. Amish communities that accepted automobiles, electricity, and other technologies during the early 20th century eventually merged into Mennonite congregations or left Anabaptist tradition entirely. The conservative concern about incremental change proves difficult to dismiss when history shows technology acceptance can indeed fundamentally alter community character.
Yet moderate and progressive Amish leaders counter that thoughtful technology adoption has always characterized Amish life. Communities use modern medical care, power tools with pneumatic or hydraulic systems avoiding electrical grids, and countless other technologies deemed compatible with Amish values. The key lies not in categorical rejection of anything modern but in carefully evaluating each technology's impact on community, family, and faith.
E-bike adoption also reveals generational divides. Younger Amish, particularly those in their twenties and thirties, show greater comfort with carefully bounded technology use compared to their elders. This creates succession questions as older bishops retire and younger leaders shape community norms with potentially different technological sensibilities.
The phenomenon has caught attention of e-bike manufacturers and retailers, some of whom now specifically market to Amish communities. Shops in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania, and Holmes County, Ohio, stock models tailored to Amish preferences including simple designs without elaborate electronics, sturdy frames for cargo carrying, and service support that respects Amish cultural practices.
Whether e-bike adoption represents temporary adaptation or permanent shift in Amish transportation culture remains uncertain. The communities' track record shows both remarkable continuity across centuries and pragmatic flexibility when circumstances demand. E-bikes may eventually gain widespread acceptance across Amish settlements, be rejected as incompatible with core values, or persist as accepted in some communities while prohibited in others, reflecting the diversity within a tradition outsiders often mistakenly view as monolithic.
For now, the sight of Amish riders on electric bicycles pedaling along rural Pennsylvania and Ohio roads represents one more chapter in the ongoing negotiation between tradition and modernity that defines contemporary Amish life. The horse isn't going away entirely—buggies still outnumber e-bikes by wide margins—but the quiet hum of electric motors has joined the clip-clop of hooves in the soundscape of America's Amish country.