AI data centre row is democratic, not technical, say Astra Taylor and Saul Levin

Local opposition to AI data centres is escalating, with a record number of projects worth billions being blocked or stalled across the United States. In 2025, about 48 data centre projects valued at an estimated $156bn were halted or delayed by community resistance, and by all indications 2026 is shaping up to be an even larger year for what advocates describe as the AI resistance movement. From rural North Carolina to suburban Virginia, and from the foothills of New Mexico to the farmlands of Oregon, ordinary people are coming together across partisan lines to say no to a status quo that allows tech lobbyists to ram through deals at a breathtaking clip, often behind a veil of secrecy enforced by non-disclosure agreements.

The rise of local resistance

The movement has taken multiple forms. In deep red Indiana, more than ten counties have enacted moratoriums or temporary bans on new AI data centres. The Seminole Nation of Oklahoma became the first Indigenous nation to impose a complete moratorium on data centre development within its jurisdiction, following a proposal from a tech startup that raised concerns about extractive colonial practices and predatory economic promises. Across New Jersey, project after project has been cancelled due to local fury over the raw deals on offer. The resistance has also reached the state level: Maine’s legislature passed an 18-month moratorium on new hyperscale data centres consuming more than 20 megawatts of power, only for Governor Janet Mills to veto the bill despite bipartisan support. Mills did sign a separate measure barring data centre projects from state business development tax incentive programmes and announced the formation of a council to examine data centre impacts. Her veto proved politically costly: days later, Mills suspended her Senate primary campaign, in effect conceding the race to populist Graham Platner, who supported the ban while calling it a “Band-Aid” and demanding stronger federal intervention.

In New Mexico, Project Jupiter — a massive AI data centre planned for Doña Ana County — has faced intense community pushback over greenhouse gas emissions, air pollution, and water usage in a drought-afflicted region. Oracle, a partner in the project, recently cancelled plans for a natural gas plant to power the facility, opting instead for fuel‑cell technology from Bloom Energy, citing a desire to “dramatically reduce water use” and “protect local air quality.” The project also faces lawsuits over environmental and community‑impact assessments.

Critics and counterarguments

As the anti‑data centre movement has grown, it has come under fire from all sides. A New York Times op‑ed called the fight against data centres a “myopic” “distraction” from the “real fight”. Academic Holly Buck, writing in Jacobin, painted the movement as an elitist “dead end” that would only deny poor people the benefits of AI tools. Two executives from the Trump‑aligned surveillance technology giant Palantir, in a Washington Post op‑ed, argued that slowing down or stopping data centres would hurt the working class: “The surest way to guarantee that artificial intelligence becomes a tool of the wealthy elite is to block the infrastructure that would make it cheap for everyone else.”

Proponents of the resistance counter that such critiques reflect a fundamental misunderstanding of how grassroots power‑building works. Antitrust expert Zephyr Teachout put it bluntly: “If you want democratic governance of AI, block datacenters. Google’s not coming to any democratic table, not listening to any rules, without people showing force.” The organisers argue that companies like Meta, xAI and Blackstone have the ability to make backroom deals, with executives having a direct line to the White House and the money to influence politicians. Disruptive protest, they say, is the only form of leverage for people who lack wealth and political connections. The movement’s ideological diversity — which critics see as a weakness — is in fact its strength, with participants united by shared concerns: crushing utility bills, unsustainable energy and water consumption, noise and light pollution, soil degradation, the lack of good local jobs (including the prospect of a society‑wide job apocalypse), and unchecked corporate power, alongside the socially problematic uses of generative AI such as bots that target teenagers and the slop clogging social media feeds.

Why blocking data centres works as regulation

Data centres offer a uniquely strategic target. Like the internet, AI is everywhere and nowhere, but data centres provide a physical place where people can show up and confront otherwise unreachable tech billionaires. The infrastructure is the industry’s choke point — and that makes blocking it a crucial and effective tactic for forcing broader AI regulation.

Poll after poll shows that the vast majority of Americans want the industry to be regulated. As one organiser noted, there are currently more rules governing the opening of a salon or a burrito shop than an AI startup. Local fights help create conditions conducive to reform. The call for moratoriums on data centre development has popularised the idea of a pause — a demand that plays hardball with an industry accustomed to steamrolling the public. In March 2026, Senators Bernie Sanders and Alexandria Ocasio‑Cortez introduced the “Artificial Intelligence Data Center Moratorium Act”, a federal bill that would halt new construction until national safeguards are in place covering AI safety, worker benefits, privacy, civil rights and environmental protection. The ban would lift as soon as laws were enacted that actually constrain data centre harms. The bill also includes a prohibition on US exports of AI computing infrastructure to countries without similar safeguards. Though considered a long shot, it is designed to force the debate.

Maine’s experience shows how local opposition can drive state‑level action. Representative Melanie Sachs, who introduced the 18‑month moratorium, called it a “thoughtful, pragmatic approach to a very complicated issue” with “tentacles” extending far beyond the communities targeted for development. The pause, she said, was intended to let people deliberate and make informed decisions: “It’s saying, let’s get together, make sure our framework meets the moment and addresses all the things we care about.” The movement’s early successes have already forced the White House to weigh in: the Trump administration has urged Congress to streamline federal permitting for AI infrastructure and called for a prohibition on state regulation of AI.

The tech sector is fighting back with concerted PR efforts, dark money in elections, and even shadier tactics. At a 2025 data centre industry conference, according to an attendee’s report, panelists suggested using shell companies to prevent scrutiny, buying off neighbours near proposed sites, collaborating with local officials to “relegate protesters in out‑of‑sight staging areas”, and providing youth programming “to normalise datacenters in adjacent communities”. One speaker, the attendee wrote, even described “applying counterinsurgency tactics he learned in active duty military service, like going undercover in bars and churches to gauge a community’s potential for resistance”.

The anti‑data centre movement offers progressives an unprecedented opportunity to meet people where they are, listen to what they really want, and help nurture a grassroots alternative to the tech‑fascist alliance. It is a chance to support up‑and‑coming organisers as they grow their fights to resist runaway AI and the broader corporate stranglehold on the economy. The movement, in other words, is not just about the future of a novel technology. It is about the future of democracy. It is about who controls the economy and whether ordinary people have a say in the decisions that affect them.