Residents of Tucker County in West Virginia fight against proposed 10,000-acre data center complex
- Massive 10,000-acre natural gas-powered data center proposed in West Virginia’s scenic Tucker County.
- State law strips local control, mandates split of taxes favoring corporate interests.
- Residents form Tucker United to block project, citing environmental, health and economic concerns.
- Company’s permit is heavily redacted, sparking transparency demands.
- Critics warn data centers mirror destructive extractive industries like coal, risking Appalachian ecosystems.
Residents of Tucker County, West Virginia, are
fighting to protect their mountainous homeland from a proposed 10,000-acre data center complex fueled by natural gas, a project they say threatens their pristine environment and way of life. The conflict, driven by secrecy, state-level incentives and parallels to extractive industries, has turned this tiny Appalachian enclave into a flashpoint in the AI boom’s global land grab.
Community fights “Big Data” threat to rural lifestyle
Nikki Forrester, a Tucker County resident and co-founder of the advocacy group Tucker United, described her home as a childhood dream realized: “I love this community. It’s surrounded by nature.” But her idyllic mountain lifestyle is
now under threat from Fundamental Data’s Ridgeline Facility, a self-powered AI infrastructure project poised to exploit 10,000 acres bordering the county’s tourism-dependent towns of Davis and Thomas.
The development, which includes a gas-fired power plant and diesel storage tanks, could emit pollutants — including carbon monoxide and particulate matter — under an air permit riddled with redactions. Residents fear
the facility will degrade air quality, disrupt tourism and harm already stretched water supplies.
“We’re in a fight for our lives,” Forrester said, emphasizing the irreplaceable value of Tucker County’s forests, peaks and night skies.
State legislation sparks local frustrations
The dispute deepened when lawmakers passed House Bill 2014, which fast-tracks data center projects by
overriding local zoning laws and redistributing 70 percent of project taxes away from host communities. County officials, blindsided by the law, had no role in its drafting.
“I’m worried we’re going to fall into that same trap again,” said Tucker County resident Josh Nease, referencing West Virginia’s historic cycles of boom-and-bust extractive industries like coal. “Some people are going to benefit from this project… but will we?”
The law’s tax structure leaves just 30 percent of revenue for the county, where officials warn new infrastructure burdens — like emergency services or water-stressed ecosystems — will strain resources.
Lessons from Northern Virginia’s tech hub
Critics warn Tucker County’s approach could imitate the pitfalls of Loudoun County, Virginia’s “Data Center Alley,” where
unregulated complexes have polluted air, water and quiet. Julie Bolthouse of the Piedmont Environmental Council noted that states prioritizing “race-to-the-bottom” policies risk attracting industry’s least-responsible players.
“You’re only going to get the worst actors,” she said, citing operational secrecy, water overuse and low-wage jobs as red flags. Tucker County’s tourism-based economy, she added, is a far cry from Virginia’s tech-first infrastructure, making the region less likely to benefit from a heated data center competition.
Economic promises vs. extractive traditions
Proponents argue data centers could bring jobs and revenue to a state with high unemployment and population decline. But evidence suggests few high-paying roles materialize post-construction. A proposed Texas data center, for instance,
will employ just 100 full-time workers once operational — positions often limited to security or maintenance.
“This isn’t a job that makes a difference,” said engineer Brian Reed, whose family has lived in Tucker County for generations. With towns already facing droughts and inflated housing costs, residents doubt the project will address systemic inequities.
“The company will benefit… its shareholders will. But will we?” Nease asked.
Residents gear up for legal battles
Tucker United has mobilized air quality monitors, filed Freedom of Information Act requests, and
staged protests at state offices. They’ve joined Northern Virginia residents and Tennessee communities challenging data centers, framing the fight as part of a broader struggle to assert local control.
“I don’t want this anywhere near us,” said Davis Mayor Al Tomson, referencing the project’s proximity to residential areas. “We’re at the table now, but it’s a fight we didn’t ask for.”
The fight echoes Appalachia’s resource struggles
For decades, Appalachian communities have grappled with industries that extracted wealth while leaving ecological and social scars. The Ridgeline Facility’s proponents tout innovation and energy independence, but residents see troubling parallels to coal’s legacy — a boom for outsiders, a bust for locals.
“Like coal, this is an extraction business,” Forrester said. “The
air, water and quality of life here — they’re what make Tucker County worth fighting for.”
As lawmakers and corporate representatives navigate these disputes, West Virginia’s next chapter hinges on balancing economic need with the principle that communities deserve a say in their futures.
Sources for this article include:
Technocracy.news
GoodMenProject.com
WSJ.com