There’s a story America likes to tell itself: We’ve cleaned up our industries.
The smokestacks are gone. The rivers run clear. The air no longer tastes like metal. But anyone who grew up in a steel town knows the truth. We didn’t get cleaner; we just got quieter.
As environmental responsibility began taking priority, some industries adapted, but many didn’t. Plants locked their gates. Workers were laid off. Entire regions became what we now call the Rust Belt.
And in those same communities, places that once begged for the return of steelmaking as a symbol of economic prosperity, people are now fighting tooth and nail against the newest engine of the modern economy: data centers.
Residents worry about energy consumption, water usage, land use and strain on the grid. Those concerns are real. But here’s the part we rarely talk about: Data centers begin with environmental mitigation built into the blueprint. From day one, they track energy use, monitor water consumption, meet efficiency standards, comply with environmental reviews, plan for renewable integration, and continue designing cooling systems that minimize impact.
Are they perfect? No. Do they strain the grid? Yes. Do they use water? Absolutely.
But unlike industries of the past, they aren’t pretending their footprint doesn’t exist. They aren’t hiding it. They aren’t denying it. They’re working from the start to reduce it. And, that marks an historic shift.
Across the country, the major players are already investing in the communities where they are located. Amazon has funded local infrastructure upgrades, renewable energy projects, school districts and food banks. Microsoft has pledged that its data centers will not increase local electricity prices and has committed to “water positive” operations. Google has upgraded local grids, funded STEM programs, and invested in nonprofits. Meta (Facebook) has invested in water and wastewater infrastructure and created community action grants for schools and local organizations.
But is the resistance here in Stark County really just about noise, water or tax breaks? Or do people sense a shift that they can’t quite name?
Back in the day, local steel mills employed thousands. Data centers don’t. Steel mills built communities. People aren’t sure data centers will.
Is the human relationship gone? Maybe that’s why the resistance feels so emotional as Facebook “comment wars” are plastered in our social media feeds and “Save Our Township” signs dot the landscape.
I spoke with Adam Kramer, who leads data center development at Panattoni, the developer behind the proposed facility involving the City of Canton, Perry Township, and Stark County. While he wouldn’t confirm who the tenant will be, Kramer did state that the “tenant will be part of the community.” He also said his team has met with concerned residents and is working directly with them on issues like well protection and mitigation.
So, what happens next?
In Stark County, the future doesn’t belong to data centers. It belongs to the people who live here. As dirt begins to move in Perry Township, trustees, along with Canton and Stark County officials, have the authority to define what comes next. They are demanding real, measurable benefits to ensure that any data center, no matter what the tenant, serves the people, not the other way around.
And that is exactly how it should be.
Angela Watkins is a Perry Township resident and an author who writes about local history. Her current works include two books about the 1937 “Little Steel” strike as it unfolded in Stark County.
This article originally appeared on The Repository: Smokestacks to server farms. Data center fights feel so personal | Opinion
Reporting by Angela Watkins, Special to the Canton Repository / The Repository
USA TODAY Network via Reuters Connect
