Almost Overnight, the Data Centers Were Everywhere in My Community—Don’t Let This Happen to You
Virginia spent years asking how quickly it could build data centers. But Maryland and other states have an opportunity to ask a better question: How do we embrace innovation without sacrificing the affordability, environment, and quality of life that make our communities worth living in?
Virginia spent years asking how quickly it could build data centers. But Maryland and other states have an opportunity to ask a better question: How do we embrace innovation without sacrificing the affordability, environment, and quality of life that make our communities worth living in?
An aerial view shows cooling vent fans on the roof next to generators on
the lower level of a Digital Realty data center in Ashburn, Virginia on November 12, 2025.
(Photo by Andrew Caballero-Reynolds / AFP via Getty Images)
Danielle Johnson
Aug 21, 2026
(Photo by Andrew Caballero-Reynolds / AFP via Getty Images)
Danielle Johnson
Aug 21, 2026
Common Dreams
I’ve lived in Northern Virginia my whole life, but no one told us we would soon be living alongside one of the largest concentrations of data centers in the world.
No one asked our community whether we wanted them. No one explained what they would mean for our neighborhoods, our landscape, or our monthly bills. Then, almost overnight, they were everywhere. Massive industrial buildings rose where open space once stood. The constant hum became part of daily life. And one month, our electricity bill didn’t gradually creep upward, it nearly doubled.
We were told these projects would bring jobs, innovation, and economic growth. What we weren’t told was what residents would be expected to give up in return.
Now, as I watch Maryland debate whether to accelerate data center development, I can’t help but feel like I’ve seen this story before.
As someone living with the consequences of Virginia’s choices, my advice is simple: Don’t wait until the bills arrive, the forests are gone, and the data centers are already built to ask whether they were worth it.
For years, Virginia has been held up as the nation’s data center success story. But if Maryland leaders only see Virginia’s balance sheet, they’re missing the growing backlash from the people who live here.
I have watched forests disappear, industrial buildings replace open land, electricity demand surge, and communities be transformed by sprawling server farms. Everyone I know is asking whether the promised economic benefits outweigh the environmental and financial costs.
Maryland has a choice. You can rush to replicate Virginia’s model, or you can learn from our mistakes before it’s too late.
The conversation surrounding data centers has largely centered on artificial intelligence and economic development. But too often, what gets left out are the communities expected to absorb the costs.
Supporters frequently describe data centers as major job creators, but the reality is more complicated. Construction creates temporary employment, yet once operational, many hyperscale facilities require relatively few permanent workers. Communities are often asked to trade farmland, forests, neighborhoods, and increased pressure on utilities for projects that may never deliver the long-term economic engine they were promised.
That trade-off deserves far more scrutiny than it has received.
The race to build data centers is being driven largely by the explosive growth of artificial intelligence. Every major technology company wants more computing power, faster infrastructure, and greater capacity. But history teaches us that economic booms rarely continue unchecked. America has seen speculative waves in office construction, shopping malls, and commercial real estate that far exceeded demand before markets eventually corrected.
No one can say with certainty whether today’s data center boom will follow the same path. But uncertainty itself is reason for caution, not acceleration.
Maryland should pause before repeating Virginia’s mistakes. A statewide moratorium would give policymakers time to complete a comprehensive assessment of the environmental, economic, and energy impacts of these facilities; strengthen safeguards for communities; ensure developers bear the costs of new infrastructure; and give the public a meaningful voice in decisions that will shape their neighborhoods for generations.
Virginia spent years asking how quickly it could build data centers.
Maryland has an opportunity to ask a better question: How do we embrace innovation without sacrificing the affordability, environment, and quality of life that make our communities worth living in?
As someone living with the consequences of Virginia’s choices, my advice is simple: Don’t wait until the bills arrive, the forests are gone, and the data centers are already built to ask whether they were worth it.
By then, the answer may come too late.
Our work is licensed under Creative Commons (CC BY-NC-ND 3.0). Feel free to republish and share widely.
Danielle Johnson
Danielle Johnson is a federal contractor and community advocate who lives in Woodbridge, Virginia.
Full Bio >
I’ve lived in Northern Virginia my whole life, but no one told us we would soon be living alongside one of the largest concentrations of data centers in the world.
No one asked our community whether we wanted them. No one explained what they would mean for our neighborhoods, our landscape, or our monthly bills. Then, almost overnight, they were everywhere. Massive industrial buildings rose where open space once stood. The constant hum became part of daily life. And one month, our electricity bill didn’t gradually creep upward, it nearly doubled.
We were told these projects would bring jobs, innovation, and economic growth. What we weren’t told was what residents would be expected to give up in return.
Now, as I watch Maryland debate whether to accelerate data center development, I can’t help but feel like I’ve seen this story before.
As someone living with the consequences of Virginia’s choices, my advice is simple: Don’t wait until the bills arrive, the forests are gone, and the data centers are already built to ask whether they were worth it.
For years, Virginia has been held up as the nation’s data center success story. But if Maryland leaders only see Virginia’s balance sheet, they’re missing the growing backlash from the people who live here.
I have watched forests disappear, industrial buildings replace open land, electricity demand surge, and communities be transformed by sprawling server farms. Everyone I know is asking whether the promised economic benefits outweigh the environmental and financial costs.
Maryland has a choice. You can rush to replicate Virginia’s model, or you can learn from our mistakes before it’s too late.
The conversation surrounding data centers has largely centered on artificial intelligence and economic development. But too often, what gets left out are the communities expected to absorb the costs.
Supporters frequently describe data centers as major job creators, but the reality is more complicated. Construction creates temporary employment, yet once operational, many hyperscale facilities require relatively few permanent workers. Communities are often asked to trade farmland, forests, neighborhoods, and increased pressure on utilities for projects that may never deliver the long-term economic engine they were promised.
That trade-off deserves far more scrutiny than it has received.
The race to build data centers is being driven largely by the explosive growth of artificial intelligence. Every major technology company wants more computing power, faster infrastructure, and greater capacity. But history teaches us that economic booms rarely continue unchecked. America has seen speculative waves in office construction, shopping malls, and commercial real estate that far exceeded demand before markets eventually corrected.
No one can say with certainty whether today’s data center boom will follow the same path. But uncertainty itself is reason for caution, not acceleration.
Maryland should pause before repeating Virginia’s mistakes. A statewide moratorium would give policymakers time to complete a comprehensive assessment of the environmental, economic, and energy impacts of these facilities; strengthen safeguards for communities; ensure developers bear the costs of new infrastructure; and give the public a meaningful voice in decisions that will shape their neighborhoods for generations.
Virginia spent years asking how quickly it could build data centers.
Maryland has an opportunity to ask a better question: How do we embrace innovation without sacrificing the affordability, environment, and quality of life that make our communities worth living in?
As someone living with the consequences of Virginia’s choices, my advice is simple: Don’t wait until the bills arrive, the forests are gone, and the data centers are already built to ask whether they were worth it.
By then, the answer may come too late.
Our work is licensed under Creative Commons (CC BY-NC-ND 3.0). Feel free to republish and share widely.
Danielle Johnson
Danielle Johnson is a federal contractor and community advocate who lives in Woodbridge, Virginia.
Full Bio >
Trump alarms red state with power plant bombshell: 'Big deal'
Daniel Hampton
August 21, 2026
Natural gas plant. (Photo credit: tonton / Shutterstock)
The data center OpenAI is building in southern Ohio will draw its power from what would be the largest fossil-fuel power plant ever constructed in the United States, and the Trump administration is racing its environmental review to the finish.
According to Heatmap News, the federal review of the PORTS-Pike project's 9.2-gigawatt natural gas plant began July 10 and is slated to wrap by Dec. 23, roughly seven months to clear a facility bigger than five of Ohio's largest existing power plants combined. Regulators are handling it with an "environmental assessment," the lighter of the two federal review options, rather than a full environmental impact statement.
The gas plant would anchor a 10-gigawatt AI campus at the former Portsmouth Gaseous Diffusion Plant, a decommissioned uranium enrichment site on federal land in Pike County. OpenAI signed a 20-year lease for roughly 8 gigawatts last week, backed by a $105 billion guarantee from Nvidia and developed by SoftBank's SB Energy alongside the Energy Department.
OpenAI has cast the project as a rebirth for the region.
"Pike County helped power America's industrial growth in the 20th century and now, with this project, it has another opportunity to play a leading role in the next era of American industrialization," the company said.
The reaction from energy watchers was swift.
Heatmap's Jael Holzman, who broke the story, warned the scale hadn't sunk in: "y'all are not getting how big of a bfd this is yet." Her colleague Emily Pontecorvo laid out the trifecta drawing alarm: "the biggest fossil fueled power plant EVER BUILT IN THE US" getting the lighter review and clearing permitting "in just 7 months."
Energy analyst John Bistline put the size in perspective, noting that 9.2 gigawatts of new gas at one Ohio site is more generating capacity than any of 10 entire states hold — among them Montana, Idaho, Maine, Alaska and Vermont.
Longtime Ohio journalist Darrel Rowland took aim at the rushed review with a nod to the site's fraught history: "Where have southern Ohioans heard this before?"
Daniel Hampton
August 21, 2026
RAW STORY
Natural gas plant. (Photo credit: tonton / Shutterstock)
The data center OpenAI is building in southern Ohio will draw its power from what would be the largest fossil-fuel power plant ever constructed in the United States, and the Trump administration is racing its environmental review to the finish.
According to Heatmap News, the federal review of the PORTS-Pike project's 9.2-gigawatt natural gas plant began July 10 and is slated to wrap by Dec. 23, roughly seven months to clear a facility bigger than five of Ohio's largest existing power plants combined. Regulators are handling it with an "environmental assessment," the lighter of the two federal review options, rather than a full environmental impact statement.
The gas plant would anchor a 10-gigawatt AI campus at the former Portsmouth Gaseous Diffusion Plant, a decommissioned uranium enrichment site on federal land in Pike County. OpenAI signed a 20-year lease for roughly 8 gigawatts last week, backed by a $105 billion guarantee from Nvidia and developed by SoftBank's SB Energy alongside the Energy Department.
OpenAI has cast the project as a rebirth for the region.
"Pike County helped power America's industrial growth in the 20th century and now, with this project, it has another opportunity to play a leading role in the next era of American industrialization," the company said.
The reaction from energy watchers was swift.
Heatmap's Jael Holzman, who broke the story, warned the scale hadn't sunk in: "y'all are not getting how big of a bfd this is yet." Her colleague Emily Pontecorvo laid out the trifecta drawing alarm: "the biggest fossil fueled power plant EVER BUILT IN THE US" getting the lighter review and clearing permitting "in just 7 months."
Energy analyst John Bistline put the size in perspective, noting that 9.2 gigawatts of new gas at one Ohio site is more generating capacity than any of 10 entire states hold — among them Montana, Idaho, Maine, Alaska and Vermont.
Longtime Ohio journalist Darrel Rowland took aim at the rushed review with a nod to the site's fraught history: "Where have southern Ohioans heard this before?"
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