By Brian Donnelly
I strongly believe in supporting our country and ensuring that America has the technology, infrastructure, and resources necessary to remain secure, competitive, and capable of defending itself. National security matters to me. But lately, I find myself questioning what communities like ours are being asked to sacrifice in the name of that technological future—particularly when it comes to massive AI data centers.
The United States already has thousands of data centers—far more than any other nation. Yet we are now being asked to rapidly build even larger facilities that can require enormous amounts of electricity, significant water resources, major transmission infrastructure, backup generation, and hundreds of acres of land. Before Marion County commits itself to something of this magnitude, I believe we should ask a very simple question: Why are we in such a hurry?
I have lived long enough to watch technology transform dramatically. I remember when computers filled entire rooms. Those enormous machines were eventually replaced by desktop computers, then laptops, and now extraordinarily powerful devices that fit in our pockets. Technology has consistently become smaller, faster, more efficient, and more powerful.
Is it unreasonable to believe that the same evolution may eventually occur with AI infrastructure and data centers? Today’s enormous AI facilities may represent an early stage of a rapidly changing technology. Advances in processors, cooling systems, energy efficiency, distributed computing, storage, and other technologies could significantly change what a data center looks like—and how much land, water and electricity it requires—within a relatively short period of time.
That is precisely why I believe Marion County should slow down, become better informed, and act deliberately rather than rush into decisions whose consequences could last for generations.
I am a sustainability professional. I am an environmentalist. I love nature and animals. I believe deeply in protecting the resources and character that make Marion County such an extraordinary place.
Our water matters. Our springs matter. Our horse farms and agricultural lands matter. Our wildlife matters. Our trees and open spaces matter. Our rural communities matter. Our peace and quiet matter. And the quality of life that generations of Marion County residents have built and protected matters.
Economic development is important. Technology is important. National security is important. But none of those principles should require a community to surrender its natural resources or fundamentally change its character without first understanding exactly what it is gaining—and exactly what it may be giving up.
Once an aquifer is damaged, we cannot simply build another one. Once rural land is transformed into industrial development, restoring it is extraordinarily difficult. Once major electrical infrastructure, transmission corridors and industrial facilities are established, they can influence development patterns for decades. And once the character of a community is lost, no amount of economic development can simply recreate it.
That is why this conversation must involve more than developers, utilities, consultants and government officials. It must involve the people who actually live here.
I talk to people throughout Marion County whenever I can. I ask them what they think about large data centers coming here. My conversations are certainly not a scientific poll, but the response I hear is overwhelmingly consistent: very few people tell me they want a massive data center in Marion County.
This does not feel like a community divided 50/50. It feels like a community asking its government to protect what it already has. And if representative government means anything, that voice deserves to be heard.
There may be places in America where enormous AI data centers make sense—places with abundant power, sufficient water, appropriate industrial infrastructure, and communities that actively want them. But Marion County does not have to be one of those places.
Progress should not mean accepting every new technology simply because someone tells us it represents the future. Sometimes progress means having the wisdom to protect something valuable. Sometimes leadership means asking difficult questions before—not after—the consequences arrive. And sometimes the most responsible decision a community can make is simply to say: Not here. Not now. Not until we fully understand what we are being asked to sacrifice.
Marion County is a remarkable place. We inherited its springs, forests, farms, wildlife, open spaces and rural character from generations before us. Our responsibility is not merely to decide what we can build here. Our responsibility is to decide what is worth protecting.
And when the potential consequences are enormous, the technology is rapidly evolving, and the people who live here overwhelmingly question whether they want it, prudence is not resistance to progress. It is responsible government.
If majority rule still matters, then Marion County’s citizens deserve to be heard. And from what I am hearing across this community, their message is becoming increasingly clear: Slow down. Protect Marion County. And when it comes to massive data centers—say NO.
