Something really interesting is happening in Ohio right now, and I don’t think it’s just about Republicans or Democrats.
It’s about artificial intelligence.
For years, politicians have been selling technology the same way they used to sell a new automobile plant:
Jobs. Investment. Growth. The future.
And now America is discovering something.
A data center ain’t an automobile plant.
You can spend billions of dollars building one of these enormous facilities. You can cover acres and acres with buildings full of computers. You can consume staggering amounts of electricity. You can use water. You can change the landscape.
And after construction is finished?
There aren’t necessarily thousands of people walking through the gates every morning carrying lunch boxes.
There are computers.
Lots and lots and lots of computers.
And that’s creating a fascinating political problem.
Because artificial intelligence may benefit the entire country—or eventually the entire world—but somebody has to live next door to the infrastructure that makes it possible.
That’s the part we’ve been forgetting.
Imagine somebody shows up in your community and says:
“Great news! We’re bringing the future to your town!”
Fantastic.
“What’s it going to cost?”
Well…
“How many permanent jobs?”
Well…
“How much electricity does it use?”
Quite a bit.
“Who’s paying for the power infrastructure?”
Good question.
“How much water?”
Another good question.
“Will my electric bill go up?”
Okay, you’re asking way too many questions about the future.
And that’s what’s happening.
People aren’t necessarily saying, “Stop artificial intelligence.”
They’re saying:
Wait a minute. What’s the deal?
And that’s a perfectly reasonable question.
Because every major technological revolution creates winners and losers.
The railroad did.
The automobile did.
The interstate highway system did.
The internet did.
And artificial intelligence will too.
The question isn’t whether we’re going to have AI.
We are.
The question is whether we’re smart enough to build the infrastructure for it without screwing the communities that host it.
And that’s where this gets politically fascinating.
Because this doesn’t fit neatly into our normal red-team, blue-team bullshit.
People on the left don’t want their electricity bills going through the roof.
People on the right don’t want a gigantic industrial building dropped next to their farm.
Independents don’t want somebody draining the local water supply.
Nobody wakes up in the morning and says:
“You know what I’d really like today? Higher utility bills.”
That’s bipartisan.
And that’s why Ohio matters.
Ohio embraced this stuff.
Politicians saw data centers and semiconductor plants and artificial intelligence and thought:
This is how we rebuild the Rust Belt.
And that’s not a crazy idea.
America absolutely needs advanced technology.
We need semiconductors.
We need computing infrastructure.
We need energy.
We need to compete technologically with the rest of the world.
But here’s where government keeps making the same mistake.
Government gets so excited about attracting the company that it forgets about the people who already live there.
And those people eventually figure it out.
They start asking:
Who’s getting the tax break?
Who’s paying for the electrical grid?
Who’s getting the jobs?
Who’s getting the profits?
And who’s getting the noise?
That’s the conversation we ought to be having.
Not:
“Are you pro-AI?”
Or:
“Are you anti-AI?”
That’s ridiculous.
That’s like asking somebody in 1955:
“Are you pro-car?”
Maybe I love cars.
I still don’t want an eight-lane interstate running through my fucking living room.
Those are two different questions.
And I think that’s where the politics of technology is heading.
We’re going to need a new social contract between these enormous technology companies and the communities where they operate.
If you’re going to build a multibillion-dollar data center in somebody’s backyard, then the people living in that community should be able to ask:
What’s in this for us?
Maybe the company pays for the electrical infrastructure it requires.
Maybe residents are protected from higher utility costs.
Maybe the community receives substantial tax revenue.
Maybe the company invests in schools, parks, transportation or affordable housing.
Maybe there are strict standards for water consumption and noise.
I don’t know what the exact formula is.
That’s what democracy is supposed to figure out.
But I do know this:
The answer cannot simply be,
“Trust us. This is progress.”
We’ve heard that before.
Progress isn’t progress if the benefits go to somebody 2,000 miles away while the costs land on your electric bill.
And there’s something else happening here that I think is even bigger.
People are becoming harder to bullshit.
They’re asking questions.
They’re following the money.
They’re asking who benefits.
And they’re discovering that sometimes the biggest political divide in America isn’t Republican versus Democrat.
It’s ordinary people versus systems they don’t believe are listening to them.
That’s why what’s happening in Ohio matters far beyond Ohio.
Because artificial intelligence is going to require an extraordinary amount of infrastructure.
We’re talking electricity.
Water.
Land.
Transmission lines.
Power plants.
Data centers.
Billions—probably trillions—of dollars of investment.
So America has a choice.
We can build all of this the old-fashioned way:
Corporations make the deals.
Politicians hold the ribbon-cuttings.
Communities get whatever happens afterward.
Or we can do something smarter.
We can invite the people who actually live there into the conversation before the bulldozers arrive.
Because maybe the lesson from Ohio isn’t:
“Republicans are in trouble.”
Maybe the lesson is much bigger.
The AI revolution has arrived.
And Americans aren’t necessarily rejecting it.
They’re simply asking the oldest and most reasonable question in democracy:
If we’re building the future together, who gets the benefits—and who pays the bill?
That’s the conversation worth having.
Because AI may change the world.
But somebody still has to live next door to the damn thing.
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