August 1, 2025

Four stories.

All about data centers.

All driven by the rise of artificial intelligence.

All promising growth, power, progress.

But only one of them is asking:

At what cost and for whom?

A few days ago, local news outlets reported that a $500 million data center might be coming to Fairview Township in York County. It would be built on an 82-acre site, generate millions in tax revenue, and in the developer’s words, have “minimal impact.”

The township currently makes $396 a year in tax revenue from that land. If the project moves forward, it could pull in $396,000. That kind of math is hard to ignore.

But it’s also hard not to feel like something’s missing.

And Fairview isn’t the only site in York County being eyed for massive AI infrastructure. In Peach Bottom Township, a $5 billion data center is planned at the site of a gas-fired power plant. It’s being framed as a major investment in Pennsylvania’s energy and tech economy. But like Fairview, the public details are thin and the framing leans heavily on construction jobs and economic growth, without discussing long-term impacts.

At nearly the same time, Fast Company published an article about the rise of hyperscale data centers, some so big they sprawl across land the size of Manhattan, powered by billions of watts and cooled by hundreds of thousands of gallons of water a day.

So why are some article painting this as a economic win, while others read like a warning?

The answer isn’t just about data centers. It’s about how we talk about “progress.”

What They Say and What They Don’t

Developers and officials love to talk about tax revenue. They rarely mention the electrical load, water usage, or long-term ecological costs. In Fairview Township, no one seems to be asking how the grid will keep up. Or what happens to residents’ bills when 400 megawatts are re-routed to servers instead of homes.

The project is being called “low impact” because it sits 400 feet from the nearest neighbor. But “impact” isn’t just about noise or traffic. It’s about infrastructure strain. It’s about energy monopolies. It’s about reshaping landscapes to serve machines and making sure humans adjust around them.

We’re told these centers will support AI. But we’re not told who that AI is designed to serve. We’re not told how many permanent jobs these centers will create. Or whether those jobs will go to local residents. Or whether we’ll be left with a fenced-off industrial park and higher utility bills.

The Bigger Picture

Zoom out, and this isn’t just a York County issue.

All across the country, tech companies are racing to build more data centers driven by AI, cloud computing, and a hunger for faster everything. Meta’s Hyperion center in Louisiana will span 2,250 acres and use up to 5 gigawatts of power. (For reference, a single gigawatt can power about 750,000 homes.)

Designers and engineers are scrambling to cool these facilities, shifting from air conditioning to liquid immersion to, in some cases, geothermal plants. But even “efficient” solutions don’t erase the reality. These buildings are growing bigger, heavier, hotter, and hungrier.

And as they grow, so do the gaps in public understanding. Because technical terms like “megawatt” or “redundant fiber routing” don’t sound urgent. They sound manageable. Like someone else’s problem.

A Different Model

But not all data centers follow the same script.

In Alberta, Canada, a project called Wonder Valley is taking a radically different approach. It’s set to become the world’s largest AI data center industrial park. It plans to generate its own off-grid power using natural gas and geothermal systems. No dependency on local utilities. No added pressure on regional grids. Even the buildings themselves are being designed with sustainability in mind, using local timber and reflecting the character of the surrounding landscape.

What they’re building reflects what they care about.

Is it perfect? Of course not. But it’s proof that data centers don’t have to come at the expense of the communities around them. It raises the bar for what’s possible. And it invites us to ask: If some companies can build data centers that produce their own power, prioritize environmental design, and reinvest in the local economy, why are others asking struggling townships to absorb the cost?

What’s at Stake

If we believe in human-centered design, we have to start asking: who is this really for?

Are we designing systems that improve people’s lives or just speeding up the algorithms that sell to them?

Are we protecting the air, water, and land, or trading it away for the illusion of innovation?

Are we giving communities a voice, or just letting developers do the talking?

Final Thought

It’s easy to look at a billion-dollar project and see momentum. It’s harder to slow down and ask what kind of future we’re building and who gets to shape it.

Data centers may seem distant or technical, but they’re not. They’re physical, political, and profoundly human. They tell us what we value. And they’re asking us, quietly but insistently, to pay attention. Because we can’t afford to confuse silence with consent. Or distance with lack of impact.

Progress is only meaningful when everyday people get to define it.