While this is a response to a proposed data center four miles from my home, on a deeper level it is about the hope of democracy, and the possibility of creating a thriving future for the place and people I depend upon.
For those who know me, it might come as a surprise that the recent inquiry by an out-of-state company interested in building a data center by the Hocking River, bike path, and high school has been a source of gratitude.
Democracy and community engagement are pillars of a functioning society and are among the experiences I find most meaningful. In my lifetime, I have discovered that it’s quite difficult and rare for the public to engage in decision-making. Outside of election day, who has time to attend public meetings, read project announcements, or participate in comment periods on top of full-time work, school, kids, etc.? In recent times, we have seen changes to administrative processes at the state and federal levels that shorten public comment windows while making it more difficult to learn about proposed projects. Mechanisms like non-disclosure agreements are increasingly used to protect large corporations while excluding the public from information that affects them.
While I disagree that a data center would be good for our community, I understand when neighbors focus on the job-creation potential of the proposed project; even the frustration they express for the opposition, and their concerns that environmental activists are “driving away job opportunities” from our community. Economic stability, ecological sustainability, and health have long been positioned as incompatible.
But I believe our community needs more than jobs; we need livelihoods. We need affordable, accessible food, medicine, shelter, clothes, and art—we need what sustains and enriches our lives.
Jobs do not necessarily make these things possible. We see, more and more, that even the hardest working among us are not guaranteed what money is supposed to provide. And promises of economic development far too often end in the depletion of the riches of healthy soil, clean water, and vibrant lands—we know this all too well in Appalachia.
My intention is not to illuminate the negative consequences of data centers. One needn’t look far to learn about the massive consumption of water and energy; the increased burden on nearby communities and the grid; the discharge of harmful chemicals; the nature of technological obsolescence and the abundant materials required to replace equipment over and over; the impact of the constant noise produced by these megalithic structures; or, of course, the staggeringly low amount of jobs in exchange for all of this.
I want to focus on the power of democracy and public participation. Last week’s Athens Township Trustee meeting was a tremendous example of people showing up on behalf of something they care about, and respectful, diplomatic dialogue. Imagine what is possible if our community—this region full of skilled builders, growers, foresters, technicians, and artisans—came together to figure out how to create livelihoods. What would happen if we regularly convened in public forums to discuss decisions before they became problems? If we address our collective needs in democratic, inclusive ways, I wonder what problems we could solve.
Because I believe the answer is, “all of the problems,” and because I sincerely believe that healthy ecosystems are the basis of lasting wealth, I am a member of the Partnership for Sugar Creek Community Forest.
Just down the road from the Land in question for this proposed data center is former coal-mining Land that community members are actively working to acquire and collaboratively govern to create livelihoods—access to land, food, medicine, fuelwood, fiber, building material, and recreation—while improving the health of the ecosystem. Though it has been mined beneath and clearcut several times over, it is home to Oak, Walnut, Hickory, Persimmon, and Pawpaw trees and medicinal herbs; home to deer, turkey, and grouse. It is home to recovering streams that flow into the Sunday Creek and Hocking River. Those who grew up here had access to these grounds for hunting, foraging, and gathering firewood, until the last decade when they were enclosed and leased to out-of-state hunters.
It is an exciting, and overwhelming exercise in democracy, but we hope it will be an example of how we can address the challenges our region has faced for decades. Appalachians should not have to choose between environmental protection or extraction; by investing in the long-term health of our ecosystems, we can create lasting prosperity. I am grateful to those who show up expressing concerns about issues that could negatively impact our community; democracy depends just as much on participation generating creative solutions that will benefit us all.
If interested, I hope you’ll reach out to learn more and get involved with the Sugar Creek Community Forest project.
Molly Jo Stanley
Millfield, Athens County, Ohio
Molly Jo serves as the Southeast Ohio Regional Director for the Ohio Environmental Council.