The Battle of Tech and Rec
- Engage Mountain Maryland

- Aug 18
- 4 min read

From consumer chatbots to grammar programs to on-demand image and video creation, data processing is growing exponentially, and the socioeconomic shifts ahead are seismic. The world is facing the biggest tech revolution since the smartphone. Changes will require re-evaluating education pathways and threaten job security for anyone in information processing, structured data, and repetitive administrative or analytical tasks.
Most people are engaging with artificial intelligence, intentional or not. Daily internet searches, enjoying a curated playlist, requesting online support, or even writing a simple email utilizes AI. This daily online activity is happening for 67 million customers in the PJM (Pennsylvania, New Jersey, and Maryland) power grid, and it requires massive amounts of power and data processing. This network serves roughly 20 percent of the nation's population. The high volume of users informs AI engineers that their work is justified, but they too, quite innocently, may be developing themselves out of a job.
Along with data processing come unprecedented energy needs, yet mammoth tech companies continue to construct data centers as if there is no end in sight and under the assumption that the energy needed to power them is limitless. Development often goes unchecked, unregulated, and without a master plan that considers impacts on climate change, power grids, farmland, and communities. The cart has clearly passed the horse. As development marches on, the environment will suffer yet another sucker punch, and the next generation will be left to endure the pain.
Data center developers use some eye-catching offers to get a foot in the door. Making big financial promises to elected officials to fund new or upgraded public schools, road improvements, or even revenue for community centers can sound enticing. These sorts of upgrades can turn heads when budgets are stretched thin. Conversely, some communities are placing moratoriums on data centers while they consider the long-term impacts, or debate whether these facilities belong in their communities at all.
Under closer examination, school improvements may be counterfeit if data center development makes a community undesirable. In a place like Garrett County, Maryland, the rationale for establishing roots revolves around what the county doesn’t have: rush-hour traffic, congested neighborhoods, industrialization, and yes, data centers. What there are plenty of is unoccupied industrial parks – an ill-fated "build it, and they will come" philosophy the county continues to back.
Tucked neatly within a pocket of largely unspoiled natural habitats, Maryland's westernmost county holds a rare portfolio, and one worthy of preserving. Losing sight of that jeopardizes the county's only value proposition.
So, before signing on the dotted line with developers, it's paramount to know the difference between what Garrett County lacks and what it needs. Developing a solution without first understanding the problem is treacherous territory. You might find disagreement over the rural economy's shortcomings, but one factor is undeniably problematic and a weakness that could be a negotiation tactic used by data center developers.
For just over three decades, Garrett County's population has remained stagnant, at roughly 30,000 full-time residents, with an estimated 60 percent relying on some form of public assistance. That's a problem that would make any economist raise the alarm, yet the county motors on because of one important economic driver: recreational tourism.
A stable economy rests on four legs: consumer spending, business investment, government spending, and net exports. Garrett County's economy delicately balances on one leg comprised of vacation rentals, second homes, and the tourism industry. Without this leg, the county would face certain and swift collapse. However, there are ways to capitalize on outdoor assets beyond boating and nature trails.
Expanding rural appeal to a remote workforce, corporate and government satellite offices, research and development and biomedical companies, for example, and introducing agricultural processing and exports are just a few possibilities that would naturally balance the economy. Each of these options leaves a minimal footprint and could complement the current economy centered on nature. The dearth of economic diversity leaves elected officials little choice but to acquiesce to destructive extraction industries and uninspired projects like solar farms, wind turbines, and, yes, data centers.
The percentage of permanent residents holding down professional jobs is woefully below where it could be, considering Garrett County makes up the largest land mass in the state. There is a lot of area to maintain, although 20 percent of the county is protected from development and made up of dedicated state forests, parks, and wildlife management areas – the largest in the state. Mother Nature holds her title as the county's greatest asset, and as long as the county's inhabitants don't cock it up, she will be there for subsequent generations to capitalize upon, too.
Remote work models are now commonplace and a way to introduce rural living as a novel option for corporate and government employees. Cementing this idea would mean drawing more working-age people and their children to help populate schools and bring in more tax revenue, rather than begging the state to cover underfunded expenses. The over 500 square miles of available land can certainly accommodate a healthy population growth of 150 to 300 new residents a year. The primary barrier for young families wanting to live a rural life is the lack of viable employment opportunities, which are more readily found in metro areas.
Data center development seems grossly out of step with Garrett County's identity. Off-brand, as it were. The average data center requires 100,000 square feet, or roughly two football fields, a scale that dwarfs typical commercial buildings in the county. The giant, unmarked buildings can be unpleasant to live around, provide little employment, and house heat-generating processors. The average facility consumes an alarming 300,000 gallons of water per day to cool its systems, yet it still creates a "data heat island effect" that can warm the surrounding area by 3.6 degrees and reach areas six miles downwind. Beyond being eyesores, they are an environmental nuisance.
As AI’s integration expands to touch nearly every human being, the world is perched on the edge of colossal change. But does that change need to touch every place, too? This is the time to create a model for the future that preserves the county's rural character and insulates its natural attributes from modernity. Some places should never be asked to move at the speed of technology, and Garrett County is one of them. Citizens should embrace her reality as a place where people can escape, restore their souls, and look up in wonder to forget the real-time chaos playing out in the palm of their hand. There is no need to bend that reality at the risk of breaking it.





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