"They're Not Gonna Save Us": Environmental Risk, Public Understanding, and Collective Activism Against Data Center Development in Tucker County
Andrew Bonner, Emma Snyder, Anna Sullivan, Alexia Whitehair
Andrew Bonner, Emma Snyder, Anna Sullivan, Alexia Whitehair
In the scenic hills of the Appalachian Mountains, deep canyons sit nestled with waterfalls, tall peaks covered in boreal forest. The ecosystem of Tucker County has been likened to that of Canada. People visiting Tucker County come for its natural beauty, reveling in its abundance of wild flora and fauna, clear bubbling streams and flowing rivers, and, most importantly, its fresh air. More specifically, the towns of Davis and Thomas, as well as the nearby Canaan Valley, rely heavily on this tourism economically. Entering Davis from the south requires crossing the Blackwater River, two miles upriver from the county's hallmark Blackwater Falls. Driving down Main Street, quaint storefronts line either side, with restaurants, coffee shops, and stores full of outdoorsy gear beckoning in tourists and locals alike. Once you make your way through Davis, passing the road to Blackwater Falls, you drive out of the outdoor recreational half and into the arts and cultural heart of the mountains of Tucker County. The town of Thomas sits on the side of a hill, meaning each street forms a tiered cascade of houses and shops from the elementary/middle school down to the river. the bottom-most "level" is Front Street, home to a myriad of businesses. small art galleries displaying local artists' works and selling prints, TipTop coffee shop, and the Purple Fiddle, a restaurant and live venue where musicians and other artists frequently perform. In these two tourist towns, a question has frequently crossed the minds of residents and visitors alike: what happens when this natural beauty is threatened by the construction of a power plant and data center?
In April of 2025, a Virginia-based data center company, Fundamental Data LLC, began efforts to attain permission to build a natural-gas-fueled power plant and data center located between Davis and Thomas, sparking community outrage. This is largely due to the secrecy of the data center construction: local community members only became aware of the potential data center after a notice of an air quality permit requested by Fundamental Data was posted in the local paper. That same month, Governor Patrick Morrisey signed House Bill 2014, or the “Power Generation and Consumption Act,” to promote data center development in the state. Essentially, the bill allows for data companies to enter the state without much legal process, and lowers tax rates to increase interest for outside data corporations. HB-2014 has been appealed by a number of environmental groups including Tucker United, a grassroots coalition located in Tucker County, due to concerns over environmental impacts, loss of local authority, and legislative transparency. Data centers are large facilities that house computing infrastructure that processes and stores the data and other services required for applications and services. In one form or another, they have existed for decades; however, with the recent rise and surge of artificial intelligence (AI), the demand for public cloud or hyperscale data centers has increased exponentially. Data center campuses are large and sprawling, requiring massive infrastructure to house their servers and power plants with fuel storage to power them. Recently, they are being constructed in semi-temperate areas due to the need for constant cooling, which requires the land to accommodate them (i.e., deforestation, site grading). Additionally, they require copious amounts of natural resources, such as water and natural gas, to cool and fuel their facilities. The Ridgeline Facility, Fundamental Data's name for the power plant and data center, is one of many proposed data center complexes in West Virginia. Our research explores the Tucker County data center, how it threatens the environmental tourism industry of Tucker County, and, more specifically, how those living in proximity to the anticipated site perceive and respond to risk.
Top Left: Blackwater Falls. Bottom Left: the city of Davis from Main Street, both sides lined with tourists. Right: Map of the site of the proposed power plant in Tucker County.
Site Image Courtesy of Tucker United.
For our initial research, we compiled scholarly articles and book chapters on collective action, air quality, environmental risk, extractive industries, and data centers. We also utilized news articles and social media content to gain a deeper understanding of community members’ opinions on the proposed data center. Our literature review puts our sources in conversation with one another, providing a cohesive web from which we contextualized our primary research.
On April 2, 2026, we traveled to Tucker County and conducted three in-person, semi-structured interviews with small business owners in Davis and representatives of a local grassroots organization, Tucker United. Our conversations were focused on reactions and understandings of the proposed data center’s impacts and collective action. Following our interviews, we toured around the county, putting into perspective areas that would be impacted by potential pollutants from the data center, if built, and the current disruption of the landscape by the construction of Corridor H, a massive and controversial interstate highway project.
Later in April, we also attended two West Virginia University-sponsored lectures on data center hyperscaling and environmental justice to broaden our understanding of the two topics. Lastly, we held another semi-structured interview with Dr. James Kotcon, the Conservation Chair of WVU’s chapter of the Sierra Club and Professor Emeritus of Plant Pathology and Nematology, who has over 20 years of experience in examining air quality permits.
Logging Crew in Tucker County, 1903. Pictured top right: 1910 image of a Sawmill Crew in Tucker County. Pictured bottom right: Davis in 1883. Courtesy of the West Virginia and Regional History Center.
When researching and analyzing the shift from traditional methods of resource extraction to the digital age, it is crucial to understand the contextual significance of industry and labor in Tucker County. As industries in the United States were increasing, Tucker County became a region of interest, as “the heavily forested mountains and the thick seams of coal were the drawing cards for the entrepreneurs who came in the mid-1800s” (Long 1996, 113). The lumber and coal industry boomed in Tucker County during the mid-nineteenth century, eventually declining during the first half of the twentieth century. Lumber and coal extraction was destructive and exploitative from the beginning. Timber waste and wildfires often occur during logging, and increased settlement resulted in further deforestation. Coal production in Tucker County hit an all-time high in 1915, with 1,628,202 tons produced that year (Long 1996, 118). Men in Tucker County worked in poor conditions, where ventilation often malfunctioned, resulting in “explosions and fire caused by a build-up of methane and carbon dioxide gases,” often injuring and killing mine workers (Long 1996, 118). In 1904, for every 100 million tons of produced coal, 588 men were reported dead; while safety increased, there were still “94 deaths reported for every 100 million tons of coal produced” (Long 1996, 118). As more modern methods of coal extraction were adopted, the need for manpower decreased, and industries in Tucker County began to decline. However, the lasting repercussions had deep impacts on the people, who now had to navigate the environmental and economic legacies of lumber extraction and coal mining in the county. Now, as data center development enters the region, there are concerns over a re-emergence of an all-consuming, extractive industry taking over the lives of Tucker County citizens yet again.
Photo from a Tucker United meeting at St. John's Lutheran Church in Davis, WV, on June 1, 2025.
Image Courtesy of WBOY
Dr. James Kotcon
Tucker United, a grassroots coalition of Tucker County allies and residents, formed in May of 2025, in response to the proposal of the data center and HB-2014. Tucker United has been involved in appealing Fundamental Data's air quality permit, and spreading awareness through civic activism and public education.
For more information about Tucker United, including the full text of their commissioned study on data center health damage, visit their website here.
The front window of Sirianni's Cafe with a No Power Plant/ Data Center sign.
Interview with Tucker County Business Owner Mike Goss
On the morning of April 2nd, dark clouds rolled in, and a burst of rain, heavy and loud, fell from the sky. It left as quick as it came, but the cover of clouds hung around. Like a typical drive to Davis, we drove the local’s speed of 5 (maybe 10, pushing 15) over the speed limit. A few cars were on the road, tourists and locals alike, the small number expected on an early Thursday morning. As soon as we crossed the bridge into Davis, the clouds parted and the town across the river was illuminated by rays of sunshine. Pretty much all the stores are on the main road, clustered in two storefront strips along each side. We arrived early, about 9:35am. There was a refrigerated truck unloading into the front door of Sirianni’s, so we felt it best to wait until closer to 10 to give them all time to unload and stock up. We loitered outside Sirianni’s, waiting until exactly 10 before going in.
Sirianni’s looked the same as ever, except it was missing the front screen door intricately carved out of wood, and it had a “NO POWER PLANT/ DATA CENTER” sign prominently displayed. Inside, the floor is made of terra-cotta colored tiles and the walls are covered in paraphernalia: framed newspaper clippings highlighted a high school basketball team and a WV state infocard custom made for the Blackwater 100. The space is tight, close, comfortable. It was moderately chilly outside, but the temperature inside had already started to climb. We walked in and stood anxiously waiting for Mike. He came over and told us to sit, that he’d join us in a bit. One other employee was there already, helping him set up for opening. When he finally came over, he plopped down into the seat at the head of the table. Mike is an older white man with a worn and well traveled face, and was wearing a ball cap, t-shirt, and jeans. He spoke softly and low, which often made it difficult to make out what he was saying. Before we could ask any questions, he pulled out a photobook from his trip to South Africa. This was his breaking of the ice, a pre-conversation to ease tensions and build rapport before delving into the meat and potatoes. And delve he did. We didn't even have to ask him a priming question, he was a dam that burst. He voiced his personal concerns about the data center, including the environmental impacts. He brought up the fact that if the 3 ten million gallon diesel storage tanks were to leak, “its all downhill from here”, figuratively and literally: a diesel spill from there would flow into the Blackwater, contaminating drinking water for not just Davis and Thomas, but Hendricks, Hambleton, Parsons, and everyone else down river. From the environmental harm would come the loss of business, Mike warned. He said if they put the data center in, he was going to leave. “It’ll ruin us. It’ll ruin Tucker County.”
Mike also brought up the construction of Corridor H, and it made us think of a sign sitting above the ATM that read “Go North”, a sign advocating for the northern route of the corridor that would avoid the Blackwater canyon and go right down the middle of the site for the proposed data center, acknowledging it as another reason the state prefers the southern route. He mentioned that the construction of the southern route would essentially close the canyon down, and the finished project would be a huge bridge across the canyon. The route also would split Davis and Thomas, Mike thinks.
Mike continued, veering from data centers to the politics of Tucker county’s school system, school sports, and cell phones. While not directly related to the data center, his passionate convictions on these topics further contextualize his deep-rooted love for the community of Tucker county and its future. Altogether, the hour we spent with Mike provided a richly complex piece of a shared experience for those living and working in Davis.
Public health concerns emerged as a widely shared issue among Tucker County residents in response to the proposed data center and its accompanying gas-fired power plant. We discussed these concerns during our fieldwork in Tucker County, including interviews conducted in Davis and surrounding areas, as well as a follow-up interview in Morgantown with Dr. Jim Kotcon, a Professor Emeritus at West Virginia University and Conservation Chair of the West Virginia Sierra Club. While some individuals continue to emphasize potential economic benefits and engage in ongoing legislative debates, concerns about public health remain at the forefront for many members of the community. Residents consistently pointed to fears surrounding human health, declining air quality, and the long-term well-being of the community. Importantly, these concerns are not solely grounded in scientific or regulatory conversations but are deeply tied to residents’ sense of place and identity, which is fundamentally strong within Appalachia. Collectively, these concerns reflect a broader perception that the proposed development poses a direct threat to public safety and to the cultural and environmental identity of Tucker County, rather than simply an opportunity for economic growth.
In response to this perceived threat, Tucker United commissioned an independent report to study the health risks associated with the proposed power plant. This report, conducted by head analyst Michael Cork, concluded that fine particle matter (PM2.5) would increase. The dispersion model indicates that over 250,000 people living in West Virginia, Virginia, and Maryland will be exposed to this increase in the levels of PM2.5 (Cork 2026, 2). PM2.5 particles are one of the most harmful air pollutants. This form of pollutant is linked to higher risks of heart attack, pneumonia, cardiovascular disease, stroke, cancer, and premature death. Children, older adults, and people with asthma or existing lung or heart disease are at the highest risk for adverse health effects (Cork 2026, 1).
Concerns about public health go beyond air quality to also include broader environmental risks. Dr. Kotcon raised the issue concerning water usage and long-term environmental sustainability. Data centers require large quantities of water to cool their systems. A primary concern of his is that the region has recently experienced drought conditions severe enough to require water to be transported in. As Dr. Kotcon noted, “When the well runs dry, we learn the value of water,” a statement that reflects not only resource dependence but also the cultural significance of natural resources within the community, tied so closely to identity.
Image Courtesy of Applied Impact, Inc. and the Dominici Lab, Harvard T.H. Chan School of Public Health
Discussing policy Infringement and Legislative Hurdles with Tucker United and Environmental Scholars.
Gov. Patrick Morrisey Signing House Bill-2014, April 30th, 2025. Image Courtesy of WV.gov.
The above quote from a Tucker United member encapsulates the uncertainty surrounding support from the local and state government for the community that would be directly affected by the proposed data center. The state government's role in shaping local autonomy is a fundamental concern in the community. Like those living in Tucker County, communities in regions such as Northern Virginia and New Mexico have been especially affected by the “AI Arms Race,” according to Dr. Dustin Edwards of San Diego State University. The acceleration of generative AI across all structures of life has quickened the pace of data center construction, making it difficult for state legislatures to keep up. Annie Eisenberg, a Professor of Law and Research Director for the Center for Energy and Sustainable Development at WVU, during a talk with Tucker United on April 21st, stated that in general “the law lags behind technology.” Currently, 11 or 12 states have pending moratoria on the rapid construction of data centers, hoping to pass legislation regulating rapid development.'
The “playbook of promises” presented by policymakers, such as Governor Patrick Morrisey, who stated during the signing of HB-2014 that it would allow companies “to quickly build, expand, and increase job creation right here in West Virginia,” is questioned by Tucker County residents, especially regarding what benefits a data center would specifically provide for the communities already in the region. HB-2014 allows data centers to move quickly through state legislative bodies, backed by wealthy outside entities, with little community consent. This situation is seen firsthand in Tucker County, as Roger Hanshaw, the current Speaker of the House, was formerly a lawyer for Fundamental Data LLC. In his powerful position, Hanshaw has pushed legislation favoring the proposed data center, raising concerns among Tucker United members about the relationship between industry and policymakers in suppressing citizens’ voices. Financial concerns are yet another aspect of policy infringement and dishonesty, as HB-2014 plans to divert 70% of the tax revenue for other state and government expenditures. This would leave the county with a data center receiving 30%. However, out of this, 20% is funneled to the County Commission, who decides where the money will be distributed.
The Tucker County Commission, to Tucker United, has also not done its due diligence in opposing the data center, and has been “lacking in the fight,” being closely associated with Hanshaw and Fundamental Data LLC. The dishonesty of policymakers in West Virginia is representative of other state and federal leaders, who have been emphasizing that data centers are essential to national security and long-term success as long as communities can handle a few “short-term pains.” According to Dr. Kotcon, in his over 20 years of analyzing air quality permits, the one sought by Fundamental Data LLC is the most redacted he had ever seen the DEP promulgate. The goal held by leaders for profit and energy maximization for the state is increasingly becoming an “issue of survival” for citizens, according to a member of Tucker United. While Tucker County members have been present in the fight against the proposed center, it is also crucial to note the county’s role as a working community. The limitations deliberately installed by systems of labor and extractivism in the state has placed Tucker County firmly in the fight for public activism and citizen knowledge, while the autonomy of data companies grows.
The proposed data center and power plant in Tucker County, much like many others across the country, has positioned the Tucker County community in the crosshairs of county and state leaders. As a representative of Tucker United stated during an April 21st lecture at WVU, “West Virginia has put itself firmly at the bottom” of the race of government entities and corporations to lower regulatory standards for increased presence in the AI extractivism boom– which has proven a matter of serious concern for Tucker County activists and residents alike in the wake of a potential microgrid data center being placed near communal locations and natural habitats.
Dr. Dustin Edwards
There is a notable gap between the knowledge possessed by the stakeholders on either side of the data center debate in Tucker County, a stark example of the idea of imaginations of divergent futures (Tironi and Albornoz 2025). The knowledge of data centers, generally, is higher among those like Fundamental Data LLC, who actively manage and construct data centers. The knowledge held by communities in Tucker County, on the other hand, is limited to what they can find online about these complexes if they are even looking to research them. Additionally, they have to deal with their ignorance of specialized jargon that so frequently suffuses documentation about production and management of data centers. This gap in knowledge is often encouraged and abused by big industries. In the case of the data center in Tucker County, bureaucratic power is used to redact documentation, blocking access to the general public out of claims of trade secrets. Our attendance of Dr. Edward’s Hyperscaling lecture showed us the ways in which the companies behind data centers will use misinformation or veiled truths to their advantage. For example, in tandem with state or local representatives in New Mexico, those behind the massive Project Jupiter campus advertised the plant as a microgrid. Without further insight, a microgrid does not sound so bad. However, the reality is that they have the potential to produce massive amounts of pollution. This reality was also espoused by Dr. Kotcon, who likened the imagination of a microgrid to that of a local bakery: a local bakery is a minor source of pollution output, not a microgrid. Still, the imaginations of risk are limited or downplayed by corporations, and with gaps in knowledge, they are frequently accepted by locals.
Tucker United has attempted to close this knowledge gap with their commissioned air pollution study mentioned earlier. This citizen outreach to independent scientists is a tool oft-used by citizens affected by large industry, especially when that industry does not make public their own findings (if they have any). However, this independent scientific research still frequently does not contain enough weight to tilt the scales in favor of the impacted communities. It is still too early in the process to tell if this study will affect the outcomes of this construction project, but this step gives locals hope in having their voices more equally heard. Altogether, the knowledge around data centers remains squarely in the hands of the corporations who develop them. These large gaps inform public perceptions of risk as the impacts on the community and environment remain shrouded.
Like other sites across the country, the communities within Tucker County have demonstrated that their voice will be heard, whether that is through yard signs, a presence in the Capitol complex in Charleston, or through the commission of independent studies to unravel the tangled web of redacted documents to protect the historic, beautiful, and environmentally unique region of West Virginia from data center development.
Through an examination of scholarship from separate yet interrelated fields, including but not limited to anthropology, human geography, political ecology, and sociology, four major themes emerged: collective action in response to threatened place and identity, public imaginings of environmental risk, energy infrastructure and the legacy of extractive industry, and datacenters and energopolitics. This literature review aims to provide the necessary context to further inform our understanding of the proposed power plant and data center in Tucker County and its potential consequences for the environment and community.
Collective Action in Response to Threatened Place and Identity
When studying a region like Appalachia, scholars often emphasize the importance of identity, place, and resistance, especially in the communities facing environmental and economic threats. This region is largely shaped by extractive industries, such as coal and timber, which generate economic benefits but pose a significant environmental threat. Due to these threats, Appalachians are no strangers to defending their home through community action. This community action and activism can be seen throughout Appalachian history due to the large extractive industries.
An important framework in the literature is the idea of place-based identity. Individuals in Appalachia have strong and deep-rooted ties to their land. Examining the power and resistance within West Virginia, these ties can be seen. Examining the identity of a region provides insight into a deeper understanding of the region: “Because identity constructs are often place-based, place and the meaning of place in Appalachia inform identity construction and are a powerful tool to harness for resistance” (Nardella 2022). A place is not simply a geographical location but rather holds meaning and identity for a group. The connection of identity and place is the root of community action and the resistance seen in this region. Resistance in West Virginia has come from unequal power dynamics and has taken various forms. Labor strikes against large coal companies, along with smaller grassroots activist groups, are a large part of the region's history.
Resistance from large corporate exploitation also begins to challenge harmful stereotypes placed on the people and communities living in Appalachia.“Appalachians are forced to resist the persistent hillbilly stereotype, the political structure that led to an acceptance of those stereotypes, the subsequent stigma of place, and the history of oppression those have entailed—while living within that system” (Nardella 2022). Mary K. Anglin discusses this similar portrayal of Appalachians as poverty stricken and “hillbillies”. Anglin highlights the resilience of community activism “that poor, working-class, and middle-class men and women offer concerning the resourcefulness and determination of the ‘grass-roots’ in the face of very difficult odds” (Anglin 2002, 565). This resourcefulness is seen in labor strikes and activism from extractive corporations in the region (Nardella 2022). Anglin (2002) discusses the union strikes led by coal miners in Appalachia. Coal mining in Appalachia has shaped the identity of the region by becoming a large economic center. The coal industry, however, brought unequal power dynamics with the economic benefits. The poor living conditions and unjust treatment of the miners led to resistance.
The environmental issues at hand, due to the extractive industries, also contribute to community activism within the region. Bryan T. McNeil discusses mountaintop removal coal mining and its permanent effects. “Landscape includes both physical features like mountains and forests and the people who live in and on them” (McNeil 2011, 5). Local residents who call the area home have come together to combat this harmful mining practice. The community activism efforts further show how the land itself shapes identity.
In the research and literature from Erik Kojola (2020), there is a discussion of resistance to environmental threats similar to what is discussed in McNeil (2011). Environmental conflicts are a direct reflection of individuals attempting to place a claim over this land. Large corporations and active political leaders attempt to legitimize their authority over the land. “The legitimacy of polluting industries depends on people normalizing risk and internalizing a sense of powerlessness”(Kojola 2020, 679). The conflicts in this region are due to the deep ties to these extractive industries. The power struggles over the environment are part of this larger discussion of community identity and activism.
The literature on Appalachia shows how collective activism is closely connected to place-based identity, environmental harm, and unequal power within the region by extractive industries. Academics like Nardella (2022), Anglin (2002), McNeil (2011), and Kojola(2020) show how communities in Appalachia fight to protect their land through community activism and resistance. This is all extremely relevant when discussing the proposed data center in Tucker County, West Virginia. Tucker County has historically been affected by extractive industries like coal and timber. Understanding the identity of the individuals there that has been framed by their geographical location is extremely important. Applying the ideas from this literature when examining Tucker County and the reaction to the data center shows the relationship between the community that resides there and the land itself.
Air Quality and Public Imaginings of Environmental Risk
A study on the anticipated air emissions of the proposed Ridgeline power plant shows the estimated economic and health impacts on Tucker County and surrounding counties (Cork et al, 2026). Following this report, we examined scholarship surrounding air quality and pollution, and particularly the ways in which the public makes sense of air and the potential risks to this air quality.
Much of the emergent scholarship reframes studies of air pollution to subjective understandings of air rather than supposedly objective scientific and statistical research as the public becomes more involved in air quality issues, both through citizen science and calls for “more than scientific approaches” (Kenis and Loopmans 2022, 1). Additionally, scholarship has shifted from spatially linked and grounded research to an emphasis on the dynamic and fluid nature of air through “the atmosphere” (Roberts et al. 2024, 2). Scholarship about spatiality continues to play an important role in examining the relations between place and the material and political elements of infrastructure (Zander 2024, 134), but atmospheric positioning reveals another layer of complexity. “Atmosphere” is defined and used in two distinct ways: firstly, the actual physical atmosphere and its variable and ever-changing character as it shifts with wind, and secondly, a shared feeling or understanding of a place, akin to a vibe or a mood (Roberts et al. 2024, 2). These uses, meteorological and affective, play a role in understanding how public perceptions of air pollution are shaped. The affective atmospheres of Tucker County, including those of its residents and its visitors, are directly impacted by the meteorological atmospheres. A shift in the meteorological atmosphere, then, may pose a risk to the affective.
Studies of risk, particularly sociocultural risk research, lay the foundation for analysis of air pollution perception in combination with the atmosphere (Roberts et al. 2024, 2). In the examination of risk perception, Humans understand risk by relying on pragmatic or “good enough" algorithms rather than analytic and objective standards of formal risk theory (Tucker and Nelson 2017, 163). When discussing perceptions of risk to the environment, conflicts often arise within individuals as well as among the stakeholders, and these conflicts can in turn inform future imaginations (Tucker and Nelson 2017, Zander 2024). Imaginations of risk are weighed against one another: the anticipated environmental risks that come with the development of data center infrastructure are weighed against the anticipated economic benefits. Additionally, imaginations between stakeholders are unequally considered, with differential knowledge, including affective knowledge, informing these imaginations of environmental risk (Kenis and Loopmans 2022, 566). This unequal consideration is further exacerbated by the dynamic nature of air and the valuation of objective scientific knowledge over subjective experiential knowledge, highlighting the systematic problem surrounding energy infrastructure.
Energy Infrastructure and the Legacy of Extractive Industry
The infrastructure built to generate, support, store, and distribute energy is the cornerstone of modern society, increasing with the proliferation of internet usage. Data centers directly contribute to the current energy infrastructure and play a role in its symbiotic relationship with resource extraction. Several scholars have discussed the long-lasting legacy of extractive industries, especially as West Virginia’s staple, coal, has declined in recent years, leaving many fenceline communities in a structural quandary.
Much of the literature on energy infrastructure and extractivism primarily focuses on government overreach and the economic impact of extractivist greed on public policy. Joseph D. Witt touches on the growing “ethos of extraction,” defined as “an outcome and influence on practices of extractivism” (Witt 2024, 3). To Witt, the “spillover effects” of extractivism, like “changes to public policy,” despite its ability to provide understandings of “justice and democracy,” also promote further government involvement in extractivist policies that ultimately harm Appalachian communities (Witt 2024, 2). Robert T. Perdue and Gregory Pavela further this point in their quantitative and examinatory work, arguing that resource extraction’s generalization as “a boon for local economies” is universally “accepted without question in policy circles” (Perdue and Pavela 2016, 369). Corporations and governments’ “widely touted claim that coal adds to community well-being in the state of West Virginia” (ibid.) is challenged by Witt, Perdue, and Pavela, who similarly critique government efforts to “defend extractivism and limit alternatives,” leading to a “sheer lack of opportunity” for Appalachians (Witt 2024, 3; Perdue and Pavela 2016, 378). The extractivism needed to uphold energy infrastructures, especially during the transition to renewable energy, continues to deeply impact West Virginia, and the potential data center in Tucker County prolongs the continued presence of an extractivist policies and energy infrastructure, perpetuating the historical and “national perception of the region as incapable of guiding its own future and in need of economic salvation from outside investments” (Witt 2024, 3). Similar to Beth Nardella’s (2022) assertion that Appalachians are often faced with rural and location-dependent stereotypes, federal and state policy actions support of extraction efforts without much leeway for communities further these stereotypes, placing Appalachia in a continued framework of perceived indefinite poverty.
This scholarship by Witt (2024) and Perdue and Pavela (2016) also discusses the economic aspects of energy and extractive infrastructures in Appalachia. As methods of economic transition for the region are discussed within the context of the declining coal industry, Witt argues that new “proposals continue patterns of extraction, even when they emphasize alternatives to fossil fuels such as nuclear and wind energy development” (Witt 2024, 13). To advance this argument, Perdue and Pavela’s quantitative research on West Virginia's poverty levels by county assert coal’s perceived importance to the state as an industry that leads to “increased employment and capital benefit,” for communities, but doesn’t provide long-term stability, and “in the long run, such communities tended to fare worse than those independent from resource extraction” (Perdue and Pavela 2016, 368). In this study, data from coal-mining counties and non-mining counties of West Virginia conclude that “counties with no coal mining have lower levels of poverty than mining counties” (Perdue and Pavela 2016, 377). Despite coal extraction’s “benefit” for the state, Perdue and Pavela argue that “dependency on natural resources results in stifled development and negative socioeconomic outcomes” (Perdue and Pavela 2016, 377). Witt also introduces the short-term logics of policymakers, who put economic development at the forefront of resource extraction in the state, and allowing land in West Virginia to recover “becomes an unthinkable waste of potential resources,” continuing the cycle of economic output as “the only metric with which to measure land’s value” (Witt 2024, 13).
Unlike these three authors, Rachael Hood, Martina Angela Caretta, Christina Digiulio, and Lora Snyder’s article extensively focuses on the “intersection of extractive industry and emotional geography” (Hood et al. 2025, 2). By engaging with landscape and place attachment, Hood et al. argue that the government and economic aspects of extractivism in Appalachia are part of “a system of unfairness and marginalization that materializes in emotional, embodied harms to residents” (Hood et al. 2025, 3). Appalachia’s systematic dependency on outside corporations does not simply harm the region’s land but leads to the disenfranchisement of residents, who typically shoulder the burden of the harmful byproducts of resource extraction. For Tucker County, these concerns are at the forefront of the potential socioenvironmental transformations accompanying the proposed data center. The changes enacted on the Appalachian landscape “have affected people’s sense of place,” making visible the “power struggles that are often invisible in cultural landscapes” (Hood et al. 2025, 6). Witt, despite his focus on policy issues and economic development, similarly points out this phenomenon, arguing that “extractivism is 'rooted in a particular relation to land’, facilitated by perceptions of nature that justify certain forms of use and exploitation over others” (Witt 2024, 7). While Perdue and Pavela’s article does not directly share the same logical emphasis as Hood et al.’s, they cannot deny the divisive health impacts from extractivist job industries, like “fine coal dust and pneumoconiosis, black lung disease,” that continue to be an “eminent health threat to miners” (Perdue and Pavela 2016, 372). These illnesses also shape a community’s emotional and economic relationship with its surroundings. By situating extractivism within the cultural fabric of Appalachia, these authors provide a contextual understanding of the relationship between corporations and communities. Hood et al., Witt, and Perdue and Pavela emphasize that “the entanglements between practices of extraction, physical landscapes, and their social, cultural, and religious meanings” (Witt 2024, 7) have affected Appalachia in many ways, historically structuring “a sense of place and orientation” (Callahan 2009, quoted in Witt 2024, 5).
The long-ingrained footprint of extractivism and energy politics in the region plays a role in collective concerns about Tucker County’s proposed data center. As Perdue and Pavela’s article states, the short-term benefits of building such a structure may differ greatly from the lasting impacts on the community’s health and wellness. Despite its decline, coal mining, as well as timber and natural gas extraction, has had indelible consequences for West Virginians. For Tucker County’s tourist industry, biodiverse environment and dynamic community, a data center may enact significant impacts, much like other extractivist methods have in West Virginia’s past.
Data Centers and Energopolitics
The concept of energopolitics is used to describe the process of power and control through energy. As a resource, energy is deeply embedded in our everyday lives and is, thus, an effective tool in statecraft, economic policy, and questions of social equity (Kenis and Loopmans 2022). With the rise of AI and subsequent increase in need for data centers and power plants, scholars have begun to question or conduct further research regarding the specific effects of their construction and use, both in Appalachia and across the globe.
Justin Kollar investigates the policy surrounding the implementation of data centers at the local and state levels to understand current power differentials in this context. As the need for data centers increases, the desire for placement has prompted lawmakers to shift regulatory and zoning powers away from local to state government. This often leaves the primary constituents or members of fenceline communities with little to no oversight, effectively shifting local governments from the decision-makers to constituents (Kollar 2026). Some policies, like West Virginia’s HB 2014, serve as “direct statutory overrides,” allowing new high-impact data centers and microgrids exemption from “all county and municipal zoning, building, and noise ordinances” (Kollar 2026, 3). The shift of such regulatory measures can be particularly harmful to those in direct contact with data centers and their surrounding infrastructure, as consolidation upward can equate regulatory leniency (Kollar 2026, Brodie 2020, Tironi and Albornoz 2025). Anneleen Kenis and Maarten Loopmans explore the different ways of imagining air that underpin the processes involved in the politicization of air quality, which plays a crucial role in understanding the thoughts in policy creation. The conception of air as “just air” removes its tangibility and diverts attention away from the existence or presence of pollutants (Kenis and Loopmans 2022).
Specific examinations of the harms of data centers, as well as the policies and frameworks behind them, are the focus of Patrick Brodie (2022), Martin Tironi and Camila Albornoz (2025), and Gour et. al. (2026). Brodie (2020), through a case study on data centers in Ireland, discusses how those in power identify and advertise swaths of land—be they nations or regions—as overly hospitable climates for data centers, therefore, allowing companies to extract value from the climate without full public transparency or understanding. Tironi and Albornoz (2025), focusing on Chile, cite the source of these decisions on divergent futures based on differing ontological regimes, revealing “who holds power to imagine, project, and materialize the future” (Tironi and Albornoz 2025, 53). Governments, state or local, act in such a way under the guise of progress (Brodie 2020, Tironi and Albornoz 2025, Gour et. al. 2026, Kollar 2026), with data centers currently being the “most visible proof” (Tironi and Albornoz 2025, 52). Additionally, the construction of data centers and microgrids is greenwashed by both corporations and governments (Brodie 2020, Tironi and Albornoz 2025). Specifics of machine output, regulatory information, or other scientific knowledge are withheld, leaving the public clueless or forcing them to fight for answers (Brodie 2020, Tironi and Albornoz, Gour et. al. 2026). However, data centers are not harmless, as evidenced by Neha Gour, Luis Ortiz, and Edward Maibach (2026) in their recent study on “Data Center Alley” in Northern Virginia. As the region with the most densely populated data centers in the world, Gour et. al.(2026) detail the health risks associated with their construction and use. While there are, admittedly, economic benefits associated with data center infrastructures, the associated health risks and economic and social impacts outweigh them. Among them, children and the elderly are most susceptible to those posed by air and water pollution, while surrounding natural ecosystems are disrupted (Gour et. al. 2026).
Overall, the literature surrounding data centers and the focus of energopolitics throughout serve to provide an analytical lens to view the proposed data center in Tucker County. Perceptions of divergent futures, here through community resistance like Tucker United and the state government, allow for a larger understanding of the prevalence of data centers. The push into West Virginia from lawmakers through policy initiatives (ex. HB 2014) and corporations (i.e., Fundamental Data) alike is part of a larger phenomenon of data centers targeting rural land for their projects because of ideal climate conditions (Brodie 2020, Tironi and Albornoz 2025, Gour et al. 2026).
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