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Rural Michigan residents rally against the $7 billion Stargate data center planned on southeast Michigan farmland in Saline, Michigan, on December 1, 2025.
By starting at the local and focusing on politics of material impact, the anti-data center movement has generated solidarity and success on a national scale unseen in recent movements for social justice.
Since November of last year, residents in Monterey Park, a city outside of Los Angeles, have been fighting against a multi-billion dollar investment firm to stop a massive data center from being built in their residential neighborhood. For months, residents have educated themselves, organized, reached out to the community, and showed up at local City Council meetings to urge municipal governors to reject the developer’s permit application.
The group, No Data Center Monterey Park, has been tremendously successful. Just this past week, the City Council passed three ordinances banning data center construction in the city and declaring them a public nuisance. The Council also created a ballot measure to be voted on during a special election on June 2, called Measure NDC (No Data Center), potentially adding a second set of protections in the city. This came after months of persistent and strategic organizing and action that is emblematic of what the strongest local democracy can look like.
This story has been unfolding in similar ways all across the country as data centers are pushed by the Trump administration and Big Tech. Counties across the nation—rural and metropolitan—are fighting back against data centers and having success. Data Center Watch reported in 2025 that from May 2024 to March 2025, $64 billion in data center projects had been blocked or delayed. It is a moment that few expected, but gives hope for the future of community organizing against corporate domination.
What is making these data center fights so successful? There is a lot we can learn from why this national movement is both so widespread as well as so effective—from high-level takeaways about winning fights for justice in this moment, as well as low-level nuts and bolts organizing strategies that communities are using successfully. Seeing it through these lenses, the anti-data center movement may in fact be a signal of a new direction for social justice organizing we have yet to tap into.
While data centers may seem an unlikely target for social justice movements, upon examining the features of the fights themselves, they reveal themselves to be a strong target for organized resistance. For one, data centers are an extremely local and tangible piece of infrastructure. Data Center Watch notes in their analysis of fights across the nation that the main concerns of residents are things like utility bills increasing, water usage and pollution, impacts on their property values, and noise and air pollution as well as the sicknesses they can cause.
The fact that local government has the power to stop infrastructure development that is supporting a national agenda is remarkable.
Tangibility and nondiscrimination are some of the strongest aspects of the fight—something that has been a thorn in the side of other movements in recent years. For example, the climate justice movement has frequently found difficulty with the fact that climatic changes are slow, long-term, and subject to local variation. Movements for racial justice are hampered by a consequence of the very problem they’re trying to solve: namely that people of different races and ethnicities have different experiences, creating extra work to move those whose privilege blinds them from oppression. Similarly, the movement for justice in Palestine is driven by empathy for those who are experiencing unimaginable violence, and much more rarely firsthand experiences of that genocidal violence.
In contrast, everyone in a locality breathes the same air, has to use the community’s water, and is subject to the electrical grid and its price fluctuations. This has brought a rare solidarity to the fight that has not been seen in many major social justice issues of the past handful of years. Focusing on the material dimension, in the manner than union organizing does, forces a politics of solidarity that cuts across partisanship, as everyone is suffering at the hands of the same financial oppressor.
Due to these local, tangible impacts, the composition of the anti-data center movement has also been noted as different from typical social justice movements—not falling only within the purview of the left or liberal center, but also including those who identify as Republicans. Data Center Watch reported that 55% of politicians taking stances against data centers are Republican, and 45% are Democrat. Those who lean left are concerned about environmental impacts. Those who lean right are widely opposed to tax abatements for developers. And issues of power consumption, grid strain, and prices increasing are cross cutting.
Add to this that the current push for data centers is intrinsically linked, materially and ideologically, to the Trump administration and Big Tech’s push for AI to pervade every aspect of society. Pew Research reported in September of last year that 50% of Americans are more concerned than excited about AI (50% Republican, 51% Democrat), and only 10% are more excited than concerned. Moreover, 61% of polled respondents wanted “more control… over how AI is used in their lives”—61% of Republicans polled and 63% of Democrats. Distaste for AI and how strongly it is being forced on society is also bipartisan, as it is becoming a material reality for people regardless of their politics.
These aspects of the fight help explain why the movement is so widespread and able to block tens of billions of dollars of proposed development. But they do not tell the entire story of the success. One other major factor contributing to widespread victories in the anti-data center movement is the fact that most of these proposed data centers are subject to municipal law.
The tactics that appear to be most widely used to stop data centers are through local legislation that bans development through ordinances and zoning, local moratoria, rejecting permits that need to pass through local legislature, or by voting projects down via referendum or ballot measure. The fact that local government has the power to stop infrastructure development that is supporting a national agenda is remarkable. It speaks to the power of local politics—when there are mechanisms in place for actually wielding that power. When they are able to organize effectively, residents are actually able to use the democratic mechanisms in place in their municipalities to exert a level of control over their lives and futures.
This combination of factors makes the anti-data center movement incredibly powerful and strategically sound from a change-making perspective. The tangibility of the infrastructure and universality of effects make a clear group of people who stand to be harmed and can be organized. The instruments of local governance allowing people to effectively wield power allows for straightforward calls to action that can yield immediate, tangible results. The tractability and clarity of this type of fight puts in perspective what effective campaigns can look like.
There is much to learn from this movement against data centers in the US. It differs from other nationwide movements in the not-too-distant past and even the present, and those differences are worth examining critically.
The most notable takeaway is that focusing on material, local outcomes has generated decentralized, locally contextualized organizing spaces that have not been as present in some other recent major movements. For example, the youth climate movement in 2018 was legitimately critiqued for being too focused on the national scale, and began organizing without understanding the local politics. In my experience, this movement was constructed as local groups fighting for national issues, rather than local groups fighting for local issues. As a consequence, it was plagued by conflict when local groups expanded and bumped up against other long-time local organizers—who were often minoritized folks fighting environmental injustice.
Part of the power of the anti-data center movement is that it has the power of firsthand evidence because the effects are felt by everyone in the community. This stands in contrast to the movement to end the genocide in Palestine, which is often more about empathizing with the plight of people across the world—an absolutely worthy plight to organize around, as the genocide is unacceptable and should be stopped. But an issue across the world makes organizing difficult because the effect that moves people to action is mainly brought about via media or personal connection, and relies on empathy.
Acknowledging the reality of national and international issues, or systemic issues, but then being able to pinpoint their real manifestations and effects in your own life and the life of your community, should be the organizing paradigm we work within.
The nature of the anti-data center movement’s balance between the national and local scale appears better struck than what I experienced in the youth climate movement. People are fighting tangible infrastructure that poses harms to their immediate lives, but are simultaneously fueled by, and noting disdain for, the national push for AI and Big Tech’s greed. There is real power in this type of organizing, and it goes to show that national issues have local effects and targets that can be focused on.
These tactics could be applied to other national and international arenas, such as the climate crisis or the genocide in Palestine. The climate crisis has no shortage of local effects and targets. Organizers could rally around environmental injustices such as pollution from oil and gas, or around food justice to counter the power of Big Agriculture.
Or in the case of Palestine, focusing on the local effects of municipalities supporting the weapons and surveillance industries to the detriment of the local economy supporting life-giving jobs could be a valuable, material reframing. Inevitably, these militarized economies also come home, as the technologies and tactics used in Palestine are now being weaponized against local communities to fuel the deportation regime.
Acknowledging the reality of national and international issues, or systemic issues, but then being able to pinpoint their real manifestations and effects in your own life and the life of your community, should be the organizing paradigm we work within. Systems cannot function unless their local units act to fuel the system. Oil and gas relies on countless local offices, workplaces, university programs, and even gas stations or pipeline projects. Workers and infrastructure fuel the machine. The same is true for Big Tech, the military-industrial complex, Big Agriculture, and more.
Furthermore, the decisions to support local jobs and infrastructure that supports militarism or fossil fuels take away resources that could otherwise be put into community programs that truly generate prosperity. The anti-data center movement clearly identified that building data centers not only creates massive harms for the community, but also directs resources wastefully, which should otherwise be used to create schools, affordable housing, and community infrastructure. We need to learn to identify and challenge those local units so we dismantle the system in a way that is manageable.
Another benefit to applying this organizing paradigm is that targets and campaigns become much more manageable and concrete. When you fight a data center, you know that your goal is to cancel the contract, or enact a municipal ordinance banning construction of the infrastructure. Contrast this, for example, with the No Kings rallies, which are aiming at a lofty symbolic goal of “reject monarchy and authoritarianism,” without any clear tangible goals. I personally know local organizers who have struggled with this for Palestine solidarity as well, fighting for somewhat vague resolutions condemning genocide rather than dismantling of tangible projects supporting the violence.
If anything, this argument may be easily subject to the critique of, “This is always what the left has been about; this is nothing new.” That is a fair point, but a truth of ideas rather than a truth of reality.
The anti-data center movement is a strong example of anti-corporate, material politics that has been desperately missing from major movements in the US aside from the labor movement. It is a testament to the power of focusing on material circumstances, and evidently can bring together unlikely allies who have been wedged apart by other political fights.
None of this is to say, of course, that material politics should exist separately from focuses on race, gender, sexuality, Indigeneity, internationalism, or any other domain of social justice. We cannot properly understand the anti-data center movement without recognizing environmental justice, and the fact that many centers are being built in minoritized communities on purpose. We cannot understand Big Tech’s illegitimacy without understanding politics of patriarchy, neoliberalism, and colonial drives for extraction.
But it is to say that perhaps some social justice movements of the past decade have been too focused on fighting the world at scale without understanding how it manifests in their own neighborhood, or how it can be fought locally. There is power in fixing our own community. We should learn how to wield it.
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Since November of last year, residents in Monterey Park, a city outside of Los Angeles, have been fighting against a multi-billion dollar investment firm to stop a massive data center from being built in their residential neighborhood. For months, residents have educated themselves, organized, reached out to the community, and showed up at local City Council meetings to urge municipal governors to reject the developer’s permit application.
The group, No Data Center Monterey Park, has been tremendously successful. Just this past week, the City Council passed three ordinances banning data center construction in the city and declaring them a public nuisance. The Council also created a ballot measure to be voted on during a special election on June 2, called Measure NDC (No Data Center), potentially adding a second set of protections in the city. This came after months of persistent and strategic organizing and action that is emblematic of what the strongest local democracy can look like.
This story has been unfolding in similar ways all across the country as data centers are pushed by the Trump administration and Big Tech. Counties across the nation—rural and metropolitan—are fighting back against data centers and having success. Data Center Watch reported in 2025 that from May 2024 to March 2025, $64 billion in data center projects had been blocked or delayed. It is a moment that few expected, but gives hope for the future of community organizing against corporate domination.
What is making these data center fights so successful? There is a lot we can learn from why this national movement is both so widespread as well as so effective—from high-level takeaways about winning fights for justice in this moment, as well as low-level nuts and bolts organizing strategies that communities are using successfully. Seeing it through these lenses, the anti-data center movement may in fact be a signal of a new direction for social justice organizing we have yet to tap into.
While data centers may seem an unlikely target for social justice movements, upon examining the features of the fights themselves, they reveal themselves to be a strong target for organized resistance. For one, data centers are an extremely local and tangible piece of infrastructure. Data Center Watch notes in their analysis of fights across the nation that the main concerns of residents are things like utility bills increasing, water usage and pollution, impacts on their property values, and noise and air pollution as well as the sicknesses they can cause.
The fact that local government has the power to stop infrastructure development that is supporting a national agenda is remarkable.
Tangibility and nondiscrimination are some of the strongest aspects of the fight—something that has been a thorn in the side of other movements in recent years. For example, the climate justice movement has frequently found difficulty with the fact that climatic changes are slow, long-term, and subject to local variation. Movements for racial justice are hampered by a consequence of the very problem they’re trying to solve: namely that people of different races and ethnicities have different experiences, creating extra work to move those whose privilege blinds them from oppression. Similarly, the movement for justice in Palestine is driven by empathy for those who are experiencing unimaginable violence, and much more rarely firsthand experiences of that genocidal violence.
In contrast, everyone in a locality breathes the same air, has to use the community’s water, and is subject to the electrical grid and its price fluctuations. This has brought a rare solidarity to the fight that has not been seen in many major social justice issues of the past handful of years. Focusing on the material dimension, in the manner than union organizing does, forces a politics of solidarity that cuts across partisanship, as everyone is suffering at the hands of the same financial oppressor.
Due to these local, tangible impacts, the composition of the anti-data center movement has also been noted as different from typical social justice movements—not falling only within the purview of the left or liberal center, but also including those who identify as Republicans. Data Center Watch reported that 55% of politicians taking stances against data centers are Republican, and 45% are Democrat. Those who lean left are concerned about environmental impacts. Those who lean right are widely opposed to tax abatements for developers. And issues of power consumption, grid strain, and prices increasing are cross cutting.
Add to this that the current push for data centers is intrinsically linked, materially and ideologically, to the Trump administration and Big Tech’s push for AI to pervade every aspect of society. Pew Research reported in September of last year that 50% of Americans are more concerned than excited about AI (50% Republican, 51% Democrat), and only 10% are more excited than concerned. Moreover, 61% of polled respondents wanted “more control… over how AI is used in their lives”—61% of Republicans polled and 63% of Democrats. Distaste for AI and how strongly it is being forced on society is also bipartisan, as it is becoming a material reality for people regardless of their politics.
These aspects of the fight help explain why the movement is so widespread and able to block tens of billions of dollars of proposed development. But they do not tell the entire story of the success. One other major factor contributing to widespread victories in the anti-data center movement is the fact that most of these proposed data centers are subject to municipal law.
The tactics that appear to be most widely used to stop data centers are through local legislation that bans development through ordinances and zoning, local moratoria, rejecting permits that need to pass through local legislature, or by voting projects down via referendum or ballot measure. The fact that local government has the power to stop infrastructure development that is supporting a national agenda is remarkable. It speaks to the power of local politics—when there are mechanisms in place for actually wielding that power. When they are able to organize effectively, residents are actually able to use the democratic mechanisms in place in their municipalities to exert a level of control over their lives and futures.
This combination of factors makes the anti-data center movement incredibly powerful and strategically sound from a change-making perspective. The tangibility of the infrastructure and universality of effects make a clear group of people who stand to be harmed and can be organized. The instruments of local governance allowing people to effectively wield power allows for straightforward calls to action that can yield immediate, tangible results. The tractability and clarity of this type of fight puts in perspective what effective campaigns can look like.
There is much to learn from this movement against data centers in the US. It differs from other nationwide movements in the not-too-distant past and even the present, and those differences are worth examining critically.
The most notable takeaway is that focusing on material, local outcomes has generated decentralized, locally contextualized organizing spaces that have not been as present in some other recent major movements. For example, the youth climate movement in 2018 was legitimately critiqued for being too focused on the national scale, and began organizing without understanding the local politics. In my experience, this movement was constructed as local groups fighting for national issues, rather than local groups fighting for local issues. As a consequence, it was plagued by conflict when local groups expanded and bumped up against other long-time local organizers—who were often minoritized folks fighting environmental injustice.
Part of the power of the anti-data center movement is that it has the power of firsthand evidence because the effects are felt by everyone in the community. This stands in contrast to the movement to end the genocide in Palestine, which is often more about empathizing with the plight of people across the world—an absolutely worthy plight to organize around, as the genocide is unacceptable and should be stopped. But an issue across the world makes organizing difficult because the effect that moves people to action is mainly brought about via media or personal connection, and relies on empathy.
Acknowledging the reality of national and international issues, or systemic issues, but then being able to pinpoint their real manifestations and effects in your own life and the life of your community, should be the organizing paradigm we work within.
The nature of the anti-data center movement’s balance between the national and local scale appears better struck than what I experienced in the youth climate movement. People are fighting tangible infrastructure that poses harms to their immediate lives, but are simultaneously fueled by, and noting disdain for, the national push for AI and Big Tech’s greed. There is real power in this type of organizing, and it goes to show that national issues have local effects and targets that can be focused on.
These tactics could be applied to other national and international arenas, such as the climate crisis or the genocide in Palestine. The climate crisis has no shortage of local effects and targets. Organizers could rally around environmental injustices such as pollution from oil and gas, or around food justice to counter the power of Big Agriculture.
Or in the case of Palestine, focusing on the local effects of municipalities supporting the weapons and surveillance industries to the detriment of the local economy supporting life-giving jobs could be a valuable, material reframing. Inevitably, these militarized economies also come home, as the technologies and tactics used in Palestine are now being weaponized against local communities to fuel the deportation regime.
Acknowledging the reality of national and international issues, or systemic issues, but then being able to pinpoint their real manifestations and effects in your own life and the life of your community, should be the organizing paradigm we work within. Systems cannot function unless their local units act to fuel the system. Oil and gas relies on countless local offices, workplaces, university programs, and even gas stations or pipeline projects. Workers and infrastructure fuel the machine. The same is true for Big Tech, the military-industrial complex, Big Agriculture, and more.
Furthermore, the decisions to support local jobs and infrastructure that supports militarism or fossil fuels take away resources that could otherwise be put into community programs that truly generate prosperity. The anti-data center movement clearly identified that building data centers not only creates massive harms for the community, but also directs resources wastefully, which should otherwise be used to create schools, affordable housing, and community infrastructure. We need to learn to identify and challenge those local units so we dismantle the system in a way that is manageable.
Another benefit to applying this organizing paradigm is that targets and campaigns become much more manageable and concrete. When you fight a data center, you know that your goal is to cancel the contract, or enact a municipal ordinance banning construction of the infrastructure. Contrast this, for example, with the No Kings rallies, which are aiming at a lofty symbolic goal of “reject monarchy and authoritarianism,” without any clear tangible goals. I personally know local organizers who have struggled with this for Palestine solidarity as well, fighting for somewhat vague resolutions condemning genocide rather than dismantling of tangible projects supporting the violence.
If anything, this argument may be easily subject to the critique of, “This is always what the left has been about; this is nothing new.” That is a fair point, but a truth of ideas rather than a truth of reality.
The anti-data center movement is a strong example of anti-corporate, material politics that has been desperately missing from major movements in the US aside from the labor movement. It is a testament to the power of focusing on material circumstances, and evidently can bring together unlikely allies who have been wedged apart by other political fights.
None of this is to say, of course, that material politics should exist separately from focuses on race, gender, sexuality, Indigeneity, internationalism, or any other domain of social justice. We cannot properly understand the anti-data center movement without recognizing environmental justice, and the fact that many centers are being built in minoritized communities on purpose. We cannot understand Big Tech’s illegitimacy without understanding politics of patriarchy, neoliberalism, and colonial drives for extraction.
But it is to say that perhaps some social justice movements of the past decade have been too focused on fighting the world at scale without understanding how it manifests in their own neighborhood, or how it can be fought locally. There is power in fixing our own community. We should learn how to wield it.
Since November of last year, residents in Monterey Park, a city outside of Los Angeles, have been fighting against a multi-billion dollar investment firm to stop a massive data center from being built in their residential neighborhood. For months, residents have educated themselves, organized, reached out to the community, and showed up at local City Council meetings to urge municipal governors to reject the developer’s permit application.
The group, No Data Center Monterey Park, has been tremendously successful. Just this past week, the City Council passed three ordinances banning data center construction in the city and declaring them a public nuisance. The Council also created a ballot measure to be voted on during a special election on June 2, called Measure NDC (No Data Center), potentially adding a second set of protections in the city. This came after months of persistent and strategic organizing and action that is emblematic of what the strongest local democracy can look like.
This story has been unfolding in similar ways all across the country as data centers are pushed by the Trump administration and Big Tech. Counties across the nation—rural and metropolitan—are fighting back against data centers and having success. Data Center Watch reported in 2025 that from May 2024 to March 2025, $64 billion in data center projects had been blocked or delayed. It is a moment that few expected, but gives hope for the future of community organizing against corporate domination.
What is making these data center fights so successful? There is a lot we can learn from why this national movement is both so widespread as well as so effective—from high-level takeaways about winning fights for justice in this moment, as well as low-level nuts and bolts organizing strategies that communities are using successfully. Seeing it through these lenses, the anti-data center movement may in fact be a signal of a new direction for social justice organizing we have yet to tap into.
While data centers may seem an unlikely target for social justice movements, upon examining the features of the fights themselves, they reveal themselves to be a strong target for organized resistance. For one, data centers are an extremely local and tangible piece of infrastructure. Data Center Watch notes in their analysis of fights across the nation that the main concerns of residents are things like utility bills increasing, water usage and pollution, impacts on their property values, and noise and air pollution as well as the sicknesses they can cause.
The fact that local government has the power to stop infrastructure development that is supporting a national agenda is remarkable.
Tangibility and nondiscrimination are some of the strongest aspects of the fight—something that has been a thorn in the side of other movements in recent years. For example, the climate justice movement has frequently found difficulty with the fact that climatic changes are slow, long-term, and subject to local variation. Movements for racial justice are hampered by a consequence of the very problem they’re trying to solve: namely that people of different races and ethnicities have different experiences, creating extra work to move those whose privilege blinds them from oppression. Similarly, the movement for justice in Palestine is driven by empathy for those who are experiencing unimaginable violence, and much more rarely firsthand experiences of that genocidal violence.
In contrast, everyone in a locality breathes the same air, has to use the community’s water, and is subject to the electrical grid and its price fluctuations. This has brought a rare solidarity to the fight that has not been seen in many major social justice issues of the past handful of years. Focusing on the material dimension, in the manner than union organizing does, forces a politics of solidarity that cuts across partisanship, as everyone is suffering at the hands of the same financial oppressor.
Due to these local, tangible impacts, the composition of the anti-data center movement has also been noted as different from typical social justice movements—not falling only within the purview of the left or liberal center, but also including those who identify as Republicans. Data Center Watch reported that 55% of politicians taking stances against data centers are Republican, and 45% are Democrat. Those who lean left are concerned about environmental impacts. Those who lean right are widely opposed to tax abatements for developers. And issues of power consumption, grid strain, and prices increasing are cross cutting.
Add to this that the current push for data centers is intrinsically linked, materially and ideologically, to the Trump administration and Big Tech’s push for AI to pervade every aspect of society. Pew Research reported in September of last year that 50% of Americans are more concerned than excited about AI (50% Republican, 51% Democrat), and only 10% are more excited than concerned. Moreover, 61% of polled respondents wanted “more control… over how AI is used in their lives”—61% of Republicans polled and 63% of Democrats. Distaste for AI and how strongly it is being forced on society is also bipartisan, as it is becoming a material reality for people regardless of their politics.
These aspects of the fight help explain why the movement is so widespread and able to block tens of billions of dollars of proposed development. But they do not tell the entire story of the success. One other major factor contributing to widespread victories in the anti-data center movement is the fact that most of these proposed data centers are subject to municipal law.
The tactics that appear to be most widely used to stop data centers are through local legislation that bans development through ordinances and zoning, local moratoria, rejecting permits that need to pass through local legislature, or by voting projects down via referendum or ballot measure. The fact that local government has the power to stop infrastructure development that is supporting a national agenda is remarkable. It speaks to the power of local politics—when there are mechanisms in place for actually wielding that power. When they are able to organize effectively, residents are actually able to use the democratic mechanisms in place in their municipalities to exert a level of control over their lives and futures.
This combination of factors makes the anti-data center movement incredibly powerful and strategically sound from a change-making perspective. The tangibility of the infrastructure and universality of effects make a clear group of people who stand to be harmed and can be organized. The instruments of local governance allowing people to effectively wield power allows for straightforward calls to action that can yield immediate, tangible results. The tractability and clarity of this type of fight puts in perspective what effective campaigns can look like.
There is much to learn from this movement against data centers in the US. It differs from other nationwide movements in the not-too-distant past and even the present, and those differences are worth examining critically.
The most notable takeaway is that focusing on material, local outcomes has generated decentralized, locally contextualized organizing spaces that have not been as present in some other recent major movements. For example, the youth climate movement in 2018 was legitimately critiqued for being too focused on the national scale, and began organizing without understanding the local politics. In my experience, this movement was constructed as local groups fighting for national issues, rather than local groups fighting for local issues. As a consequence, it was plagued by conflict when local groups expanded and bumped up against other long-time local organizers—who were often minoritized folks fighting environmental injustice.
Part of the power of the anti-data center movement is that it has the power of firsthand evidence because the effects are felt by everyone in the community. This stands in contrast to the movement to end the genocide in Palestine, which is often more about empathizing with the plight of people across the world—an absolutely worthy plight to organize around, as the genocide is unacceptable and should be stopped. But an issue across the world makes organizing difficult because the effect that moves people to action is mainly brought about via media or personal connection, and relies on empathy.
Acknowledging the reality of national and international issues, or systemic issues, but then being able to pinpoint their real manifestations and effects in your own life and the life of your community, should be the organizing paradigm we work within.
The nature of the anti-data center movement’s balance between the national and local scale appears better struck than what I experienced in the youth climate movement. People are fighting tangible infrastructure that poses harms to their immediate lives, but are simultaneously fueled by, and noting disdain for, the national push for AI and Big Tech’s greed. There is real power in this type of organizing, and it goes to show that national issues have local effects and targets that can be focused on.
These tactics could be applied to other national and international arenas, such as the climate crisis or the genocide in Palestine. The climate crisis has no shortage of local effects and targets. Organizers could rally around environmental injustices such as pollution from oil and gas, or around food justice to counter the power of Big Agriculture.
Or in the case of Palestine, focusing on the local effects of municipalities supporting the weapons and surveillance industries to the detriment of the local economy supporting life-giving jobs could be a valuable, material reframing. Inevitably, these militarized economies also come home, as the technologies and tactics used in Palestine are now being weaponized against local communities to fuel the deportation regime.
Acknowledging the reality of national and international issues, or systemic issues, but then being able to pinpoint their real manifestations and effects in your own life and the life of your community, should be the organizing paradigm we work within. Systems cannot function unless their local units act to fuel the system. Oil and gas relies on countless local offices, workplaces, university programs, and even gas stations or pipeline projects. Workers and infrastructure fuel the machine. The same is true for Big Tech, the military-industrial complex, Big Agriculture, and more.
Furthermore, the decisions to support local jobs and infrastructure that supports militarism or fossil fuels take away resources that could otherwise be put into community programs that truly generate prosperity. The anti-data center movement clearly identified that building data centers not only creates massive harms for the community, but also directs resources wastefully, which should otherwise be used to create schools, affordable housing, and community infrastructure. We need to learn to identify and challenge those local units so we dismantle the system in a way that is manageable.
Another benefit to applying this organizing paradigm is that targets and campaigns become much more manageable and concrete. When you fight a data center, you know that your goal is to cancel the contract, or enact a municipal ordinance banning construction of the infrastructure. Contrast this, for example, with the No Kings rallies, which are aiming at a lofty symbolic goal of “reject monarchy and authoritarianism,” without any clear tangible goals. I personally know local organizers who have struggled with this for Palestine solidarity as well, fighting for somewhat vague resolutions condemning genocide rather than dismantling of tangible projects supporting the violence.
If anything, this argument may be easily subject to the critique of, “This is always what the left has been about; this is nothing new.” That is a fair point, but a truth of ideas rather than a truth of reality.
The anti-data center movement is a strong example of anti-corporate, material politics that has been desperately missing from major movements in the US aside from the labor movement. It is a testament to the power of focusing on material circumstances, and evidently can bring together unlikely allies who have been wedged apart by other political fights.
None of this is to say, of course, that material politics should exist separately from focuses on race, gender, sexuality, Indigeneity, internationalism, or any other domain of social justice. We cannot properly understand the anti-data center movement without recognizing environmental justice, and the fact that many centers are being built in minoritized communities on purpose. We cannot understand Big Tech’s illegitimacy without understanding politics of patriarchy, neoliberalism, and colonial drives for extraction.
But it is to say that perhaps some social justice movements of the past decade have been too focused on fighting the world at scale without understanding how it manifests in their own neighborhood, or how it can be fought locally. There is power in fixing our own community. We should learn how to wield it.