With the rapidly increasing use of AI technology, there's been a lot of discussion, confusion, and even fear around the impending influx of data centers and the potential consequences for environmental-justice communities.
Data centers are buildings that hold a collection of computers and the systems used for processing, storing, and sharing data. They have always existed — it's the number and size of them that is quickly changing. These changes threaten how marginalized communities are impacted by the increased use of artificial intelligence (AI) and the expansion of data centers. The expansion of AI is more than people downloading chatbots; it includes the growing integration of AI into our day-to-day lives, from filtering our emails to curating our social-media feeds, and even the navigation we follow as we drive rather than mapping the route ourselves or simply remembering it.
How we manage these rapidly increasing changes is what advocates — especially those focused on EJ communities — are most concerned with. Environmental Justice (EJ) communities, usually BIPOC, low-income neighborhoods, are where companies often choose to locate the most toxic and chemically polluted aspects of their operations: factories, waste sites, coal-burning plants, manufacturing, and fuel suppliers that spew particulate matter, soot, dust, and toxins into the atmosphere. As a result, EJ areas are often characterized by higher rates of childhood asthma and adult cancer. Advocates living in these areas see a direct correlation between the proximity of manufacturing sites and the higher instances of sickness and disease in their communities. Data centers exacerbate this problem.
After Meta built a $750 million data center in Georgia, a neighboring couple's well water — just 1,000 feet away — went dry within months.
The New York Times documented this in Newton County, Georgia. The elderly couple featured in the story, Beverly and Jeff Morris, watched their water-dependent appliances — from the dishwasher to the toilet — stop working not long after construction began on the facility.
Stories like these are becoming more and more prevalent across the country, brewing fear as councilmembers and commissioners continually approve new data-center operations without community input. Detroit has taken center stage as a $7 billion data center progresses in service of OpenAI, and another has been proposed in Dundee Township — all while residents fight against a $1.2 billion nuclear-weapons science data center in Ypsilanti. Residents fear not only the impact on daily home life, but also how these rapid changes will hit their pocketbooks. Is it possible to put such a large strain on an already-strained energy infrastructure without increased costs? An already-strong opposition to utility companies is justifiably cautious.
How can residents ensure their energy costs aren't going toward subsidizing data centers they don't want? Utility leaders and commissioners have promised this won't happen — but as rate increases on residential ratepayers are proposed, it's critical that ratepayers hold officials accountable to that promise. Stay plugged in with intervenors like We Want Green Too, so you're aware of regulatory changes and can act on opportunities to make your position known as soon as they arise.
