by: Hank Martin
There comes a moment when critical decisions must be made. Those that will define not only who and what we are now, but who we will become.
Albemarle County stands at such a crossroads. The paramount question now looming before us is not just about data centers. It’s about what kind of future we’re building—and who we’re building it for.
On the surface, the proposition may appear harmless—even beneficial. More revenue, more infrastructure, more digital power to fuel a fast-moving world. But that’s not the whole story. Not by a long shot.
We need to look at the facts—and face them.
Data Centers Drain More Than Power. They Drain Identity.
These facilities demand immense amounts of electricity and water. Even under optimal conditions, they generate noise, air pollution, and light that stretches far beyond their fences. They consume without contributing to the character of a place. And make no mistake, Albemarle has—older generations would say had—character. It’s not just land. It’s legacy.
We’ve seen what happened in Loudoun. Prince William. The landscape changed, and so did the communities. These centers arrived with promises of economic reward. But what they left behind was a scar. And silence—because they don’t bring people. They bring machines.
Minimal Jobs. Maximum Impact.
Data centers are capital-heavy but job-light. They run with skeleton crews, often by remote automation. They will not fill our local workforce with meaningful, long-term employment. And the oft-repeated line that they’ll reduce residential property taxes? That line’s gone cold. Such wishful rhetoric hasn’t delivered anywhere else, and we’d be fools to think we’re the exception.
Fiscal sleight-of-hand may impress a budget committee, but it doesn’t fool the people who actually live here.
Crypto: A New Frontier with Unknown Dangers
Now enter the wild card: crypto-mining. Even more energy-intensive. Less transparent. What’s being mined, moved, or manipulated inside those walls? Who owns it? What are the societal consequences? We’re being asked to approve systems we barely understand—systems that may not even be in the public interest.
Do we really want to gamble with the unknown…right in our own backyard?
This Isn’t Progress. This Is Surrender.
The citizenry of Albemarle did not choose to reside in Albemarle in order to live in the shadow of diesel stacks and server farms. They came here for clean skies, peace, and purpose. The County’s purchase of Rivanna Futures may suggest an intended shift toward industrial expansion. However, history is replete of examples where intention does not equal destiny.
Remember what happened in Warrenton: an entire town council was voted out after trying to sneak in a data center. Contrary to the seeming narrative within the county office building, people are paying attention—and they won’t sit quietly while their county is sold off under the cover of “development.”
We Need More Than Email Alerts. We Need a Mission Briefing.
Engagement isn’t a checkbox. It’s a duty. Town halls, detailed studies, face-to-face forums—these must happen before decisions are made. Only then can we chart a course that respects the voices of all our citizens, not just the loudest lobbyists.
A Final Thought: The Power to Say “No” Is the Power to Preserve What Matters
Technology will always advance. But wisdom lies in knowing when to advance… and when to stand your ground. Leadership isn’t about chasing the next trend. It’s about protecting the people and the principles our “leaders” were elected to serve.
Albemarle doesn’t need to become the next Northern Virginia. It needs to become more of what it already is: Strong. Beautiful. Intentional.
So I say this: Do not rubber-stamp this future. Limit these centers. Regulate crypto facilities separately. Enforce hard boundaries. Preserve our resources—for our good and for the good of those who will follow.
You have been given this moment in time, do not squander it.
