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Let's dive deep into the campaign against the so-called “high-risk” cables.

One of the biggest threats to American offshore wind is a handful of homeowners on the south Jersey shoreline spouting unproven theories about magnetic fields.
Within a year of forming, the activist group “Stop The High-Risk Cables” has galvanized local politicians against the transmission infrastructure being planned for wind turbines off the coast of New Jersey known as the Larrabee Pre-built Infrastructure. The transmission route, which will run a few miles from the beaches of Sea Girt, New Jersey, to a substation nearby, is expected to be a crucial landing zone for power from major offshore wind projects in south Jersey waters, including Atlantic Shores, a joint venture between EDF Renewables and Shell that received final permits from federal regulators last week.
The only problem: while state regulators have been busy planning the route for the transmission and selecting who will build it, opponents have managed to win the war of public opinion. Activists have clearly turned their neighbors against the plan, pushing the mayors of the four boroughs targeted for Pre-Built Infrastructure to come out against the project. And this weekend Jack Ciattarelli – who narrowly lost the race for the governor’s mansion last year and is running again in 2025 – joined activists rallying against the project and is now campaigning on ending the project and cable landings like it.
Since federal regulators control the waters, what this means is, unless Democrats hit the electoral jackpot over the next year, offshore wind in New Jersey could be screwed – even if Kamala Harris wins the White House.
What makes this more dire is, this isn’t any ol’ transmission. For other offshore wind projects like Empire Wind, states have forced developers to design and construct their own transmission landings, creating a somewhat disorganized situation resembling electrical spaghetti. New Jersey’s offshore wind transmission meanwhile has been studied for years and is supposed to minimize development on the shoreline. This means the combat over this cabling could decide the fates of multiple offshore wind projects – and the first major proactive plan to reduce beach-level environmental impacts that stymie offshore wind in the first place.
So I decided to dive deep into the campaign against the so-called “high-risk” cables. After a series of interviews with organizers and a mayor critical of the state’s processes, I’ve been left feeling this relatively small transmission project represents a true test for democracy’s role in climate action. Could a small band of organized individuals be all it takes to hold back decarbonization at the pace scientists say is necessary, no matter how many climate laws are passed?
Sea Girt resident Kimberly Paterson remembers when she first heard about the cables. Someone had left a postcard on her door about the project. Before that, the professional executive leadership trainer had devoted her activism to preserving maritime forests on the beach. Once made aware of the transmission cables though, she and her small coterie of environmentally-conscious neighbors got active.
Paterson said they also started getting looped in with an existing network of activists concerned about offshore wind infrastructure. Those activists included familiar characters to the fight over New Jersey offshore wind development.
People like Mike Dean of Save the East Coast and Cindy Zipf of Clean Ocean Action, who’ve spread theories without evidence about a spate of whale deaths being tied to pile drivers for offshore wind. She says her group’s work is focused on the cables, not offshore wind, despite the close allyship with these other actors. As she simply put it, “There’s a circle of people that you meet.”
“We do like to work with others, and communicate with others, but we’re not officially tied to any of those other groups.”
The group also started canvassing, making signage for homeowners, and holding public events. As calls for action grew, so too did the political focus on the area, as state legislators and members of Congress took up the issue.
“We have created an absolute firestorm here,” Paterson told me. ‘It is unbelievable what we’ve accomplished.”
The group is focused on what they believe to be the health risks of simply being near high-voltage power lines.
To understand their fears, think of an electric current going through a wire. The more current goes through a wire, the higher likelihood of electrical waves emanating from the current’s pathway. That’s where “electro-magnetic fields” come into play. These fields are all around us and even Earth emits them. It’s the result of an excess of energy.
The World Health Organization classifies even low amounts of electromagnetic fields as a possible carcinogen, citing studies around exposure and childhood leukemia rates. But as many environmental and health experts note, studies to date have not really linked cancer occurrences to prolonged exposure to these fields. The Bureau of Ocean Energy Management says the electro-magnetic fields created by cables for offshore wind “are well below the recommended threshold values for human exposure.” So like whales and wind, it’s something to watch out for, but there’s no evidence to date of a danger here.
Nonetheless, seeking to calm any resident’s fears of magnetic fields, the New Jersey Board of Public Utilities last week convened their first public hearing within the planned development area.
At the event, numerous officials came and spoke to the project’s safety, including the executive director of the Board. They even played a long explanatory video from a consultant they hired to review the electro-magnetic fields that would come from the cables. The full presentation laid out numerous examples of what they said were similar underground and underwater transmission lines with magnetic emissions that had no discernable impact on public health, including lines in the New Jersey-New York region.
One person moved by the presentation’s efforts on magnetic fields was Mike Mangan, mayor of Manasquan, one of the boroughs that may be selected to host some of the transmission infrastructure. Mangan told me he joined with other mayors to press the state for more transparency on the cables at the behest of concerned constituents. But he didn’t know what the state knew about the magnetic fields.
“I’ll just be candid — I was ignorant on a lot of that,” he acknowledged. Mangan said he still has “a few very serious concerns” but “I think they addressed some of the bigger concerns,” including the magnetic fields.
I’ll admit, I felt the same. So far in The Fight, we’ve chronicled examples where there are at least somewhat reasonable concerns about renewable energy development – stuff like batteries sited in wildfire risk areas and solar farms in imperiled tortoise habitat. But in this case, I watched the entire presentation online and left thinking this was essentially a non-issue.
Yet Paterson says she was unconvinced by the presentation. The projects they’re citing aren’t comparable, she claims. And then she has a laundry list of other complaints about the potential cables.
Hearing her talk about the transmission, you’d think she just doesn’t want this built under any circumstances. So I asked her if, given her allies, the goal is to stop offshore wind. An avid wildlife painter, she says no, and that she’s “very strongly in support of alternative energy.”
Well, okay. Maybe it’s political or partisan then? I asked her who she’s voting for in this year’s presidential election. “I don’t like anyone in the election to be quite honest,” she confessed, self-identifying simply as a “libertarian.” She then added: “I love the idea of Robert F. Kennedy [Jr.] revolutionizing our health-care system. That makes me very excited.”
Last week, Heatmap published a risk index of the top 10 renewable energy projects worth watching for potential cancellation or major blowback to the energy transition.
We listed Atlantic Shores in the top five, primarily citing the project’s current role as a focal point for opponents to offshore wind up and down the Atlantic coastline. Hours after the risk index was published, Atlantic Shores received its final approval from the Bureau of Ocean Energy Management.
Despite that win, we’re leaving the project on the index because the cables have to be built too – and that stands to be a more stressful fight.
It wasn’t supposed to be hard. In 2021, New Jersey passed a law granting the Board of Public Utilities the authority to supersede local governments opposing easements and other permits for offshore wind transmission cables. But that law’s permissibility under the state constitution hasn’t been tested yet, thanks to the cancellation of Orsted’s Ocean Wind project, which was set to be the likeliest battleground over cables before Atlantic Shores.
State officials are expected in the coming weeks to lay out who will actually build the transmission infrastructure and the route it’ll take from Sea Girt to the Larrabee substation. Between the day of that announcement and the completion of construction, a lot can go awry. Donald Trump could win the presidency and, as opponents of offshore wind expect, revisit permitting decisions for projects like Atlantic Shores. Or a Republican like Jack Ciattarelli could win the governor’s mansion, and that person could take any number of steps to undermine the cables like leaving the local control law undefended in state court if it’s challenged.
All this risk to the energy transition, started by a handful of actors with unfounded claims about magnetic fields.
I asked Atlantic Shores for comment on the opposition movement. They did not get back to me.
However, I did hear from the New Jersey Offshore Wind Alliance, a consortium of developers trying to build offshore wind off the state coast. “While we are advocates of civil discourse and engagement from communities, we urge residents to be mindful of prevalent misinformation,” said Paulina O’Connor, executive director of the alliance, in a statement sent to me Tuesday evening.
“By following best practices in environmental science and engineering, such as proper siting, minimizing disruption during construction, and adherence to all state and federal regulations, this infrastructure can be safely and responsibly integrated into our communities and local and regional power grids to provide resilient and reliable power to New Jersey homes,” O’Connor continued.
I also heard from Anjuli Ramos-Busot, executive director of Sierra Club’s New Jersey chapter, who contacted me last night after Atlantic Shores and the offshore wind alliance brought my reporting to their attention.
“Let us be clear, the microwave in your kitchen emits more electromagnetic currents than cables buried deep underground covered by insulation and concrete,” Ramos-Busot said in a statement. “This technology is vetted, goes through rigorous permitting standards, and is safe and responsible for both the environment and local communities.”
Candidly, I’m holding my breath on whether Sierra Club’s words will win over these concerned shore residents.
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A conversation with Emma Uridge of the Kansas Health Institute.
This week’s conversation is with Emma Uridge, analyst with the Kansas Health Institute. Uridge spent copious hours analyzing state and local laws on data center development to best understand how policymakers are responding to the potential environmental public health impacts of large AI infrastructure, including power and water. The report, which came out this week, also goes in depth into those health impacts. I reached out to her to discuss what she sees as must-watch territory for our readers on this emerging policy arena.
Our conversation was lightly edited for clarity.
What is actually being done on policy when it comes to data centers — beyond moratoria of course?
So first I’d like to just talk about the point of moratoria. It’s helpful to talk about how these policies emerge in the first place. One area where moratoria are helpful is when a data center is proposed but the county has no approach for how they’d like to potentially regulate them. That’s temporary, most of the time. It lets local governments conduct research on the various impacts and also negotiate community benefits, ones that can mitigate any potential negative impacts — like Lancaster Pennsylvania, which instituted a community benefit agreement that maximized the potential benefits of development while mitigating what large data centers can do. That agreement looked at capping municipal water use at 20,000 gallons per day and requiring 100% clean energy. It had financial penalties for non-compliance. The company also committed $20 million to their local economic development and clean energy fund. There are ways to negotiate with developers.
We also see amendments to existing zoning. Data center proposals are increasingly popping up in rural areas, many of which are unzoned, so there’s no way a county can negotiate unless there’s a moratorium in place.
Other policy solutions include different performance standards or requiring on-site renewable energy, like what Jefferson County, Missouri, looked at. Also setback requirements, mandatory noise buffers, ending by-right zoning.
Where are local governments getting ideas for regulating data centers?
A lot of the technical information comes from developers. That can in cases be seen as a biased source of information. I wouldn’t say there’s a dedicated group providing assistance to local governments when a project is proposed — which is a similar story to wind industry development, where we have only a handful of consultants who provide technical advice. It can be really helpful to get a multi-disciplinary approach to hearing information. It can be helpful to have the utility commission, public health folks, those in academia, as well as the developer.
As of right now, especially in rural areas, local governments have a hard task of balancing pushback while getting the most accurate, evidence-based, neutral information to make decisions. That balance can be contentious.
What is the federal government doing on data center policy? How is the Trump administration approaching it?
A few things there. In the early days, the drive was for AI expansion and to be competitive with foreign adversaries. Now due to the amount of public pushback in red and blue localities and a more cautious approach.
I’m not seeing a lot of actual policy movement at this time.
I know the EPA is looking at the chemicals used in cooling data centers because when that water is cycled through the system, some of it is discharged into the water system, so they’re looking at the Toxic Substances and Control Act for monitoring that.
How much of an impact does this minimal federal role have on industry behavior?
Y’know, this isn’t specific to data centers. This is true for all kinds of large-scale development: there’s a need to require some sort of federal monitoring and regulation.
That’s where I see an emerging role for public health. At the federal level, there could be policy movement towards requiring some sort of environmental monitoring at data centers to make sure they’re operating responsibility. Looking at specific water use relative to water availability and what happens when there’s a time of severe, persistent drought. With air quality too — we’ve seen areas where the grid isn’t as reliable so their diesel generators are kicking on more and affecting air quality for residents.
We’re just not seeing all of that right now. We need corporate disclosure.
What do you see as the most important public health impacts from data center development?
It varies by localities. The most discussed obviously is water usage. One thing I’d note about my conversations with folks enthusiastic around emerging tech is, there are still questions that need to be asked about the capacity of localities to support a data center. Like a small town in Kansas may only be using 40% of their water for their utility needs. If a data center came online, how much of that water goes to the data center?
One area underexplored within the public health discipline is energy poverty and energy security. The ability of a household to meet the needs of everything energy provides in our lives. It’s known we have an aging electric grid but we’re not talking enough about large-scale blackouts when the grid is not sufficient to support some of these new data centers.
Plus more of the week’s big development fights.
1. Laramie County, Wyoming — Meta is fighting the fine it received in the Cheyenne data center water pollution controversy, and the conflict between the tech giant and the city’s small board of public utilities is continuing to spill out into the public.
2. Niagara County, New York — This county just rejected a solar project’s highway work permits in a show of retaliation against the state’s Office of Renewable Energy Siting.
3. Barron County, Wisconsin — The anti-solar protest is the new campaign stop in deep red Wisconsin.
4. Chesapeake, Virginia — A large battery storage project on the Virginia coastline is on the rocks amidst rampant local opposition.
5. Lewis County, West Virginia — West Virginia is now a key battleground in the fight over transmission, as a line spanning all of West Virginia and Maryland — and cutting through Data Center Alley in Virginia — causes compounding consternation.
The local government of Boulder City, Nevada had previously rejected a proposal for the computing facility, which would draw power from the existing electricity supply.
The U.S. government for the first time approved a data center on federal lands. What the Trump administration is pitching as a demonstration of bureaucratic speed and ambition in the era of artificial intelligence, however, is turning into the same sort of mysterious backroom deal that’s upsetting other communities.
On Monday, the Bureau of Land Management announced that it would allow a large AI data center to be built on a plot of federal land technically within the limits of Boulder City, Nevada. The approval was initially granted as a right-of-way in 2023 for the second phase of a solar project known as Townsite Solar, to be built by a joint venture between Skylar Opportunities LLC, a subsidiary of Houston energy trader Bill Perkins’ investment firm, and renewables developer Arevon. (Ironically, Perkins also just launched an ETF to profit from higher electricity demand.)
Earlier this year, the LLC overseeing the project — itself named Townsite Solar 2 — notified the city that it would change tack and instead construct a large data center on the site. There would be no new power generation installed — rather, the facility would hook up directly to an existing substation. This time, the backlash was immediate and fierce, and led Boulder City’s planning commission to reject the data center within city limits.
Quietly, Townsite Solar 2 had prepared a backup plan: The project would shift to federal land that was already approved to use for the second phase of the solar farm. It wasn’t until early July that the Boulder City government and its residents learned that BLM had given Townsite Solar 2 permission to advance the data center without any new public hearings or comment periods. According to BLM, the data center would be essentially like a solar farm, so it wouldn’t require any new review.
“The BLM concluded that the new proposed action — a data center — is essentially the same,” city government attorney Brittany Walker told the Boulder City council at a July 14 public hearing. “This is a departure from previous precedent and procedure as the BLM essentially sweepingly approved a new land use without following processes in federal law.”
Boulder City is now fighting the federal assessment. Walker claimed at the July 14 hearing they weren’t notified ahead of time that Townsite Solar 2 would be so quickly approved and built on this parcel of federal acreage, a form of government-to-government communication often required under federal land use planning statutes.
Mystery continues to swirl around what BLM did here — and how Townsite Solar 2 got the agency to do it.
Nada Culver, who served as No. 2 at BLM under the Biden administration, told me that BLM had veered from the usual course of business in approving this data center. Consulting local governments before a decision is made “sits at the heart” of the Federal Land Management and Policy Act, which is the primary statute governing BLM’s land use decision-making, she said. Both that law and the National Environmental Policy Act are “supposed to involve the government actually looking at environmental impacts and sharing them. so it’s not responsible or arguably even legal for the BLM to say, ‘We aren’t going to look at those impacts or share them with the public,” she added.
Boulder City officials have said this is the first major data center approval on federal lands, to their knowledge. Culver told me she believed that to be true, and hadn’t heard of such a thing happening before. “This isn’t a niche BLM issue, so to try and say this is just another use when we’re all surrounded with this loud discussion at the national level about data centers is particularly stark.”
Patrick Donnelly of the Center for Biological Diversity told me his organization and the Sierra Club, another legacy conservation group, are planning a separate legal challenge, one they say is intended to stop more such swaps from happening. Donnelly noted that at least two more data center projects — both powered by on-site gas — are poised to start the federal permitting process at any moment, according to the BLM’s online materials.
“This is the first one, and it’s going to set the stage for these things on public lands, and we can’t let this happen,” he told me.
The timing of this fight couldn’t be worse for the Trump White House, as officials try to pivot towards a “feel your pain” message ahead of the 2026 midterm elections. On Thursday, utilities and data center developers joined Trump cabinet officials at the Environmental Protection Agency for a joint event promoting the administration’s Ratepayer Protection Pledge, a voluntary set of industry practices geared toward ensuring the cost of AI infrastructure isn’t borne by those living near it.
With the BLM’s decision to advance the data center on federal land, Boulder City will lose an estimated $2.3 million in annual leasing and taxation revenue that it would’ve received if the project were built on city land, according to the Las Vegas Review-Journal. If the project is built on BLM land, Boulder City officials have said they’ll still be forced to front the cost for water and sewage hookup to the facility, as well as road maintenance.
Townsite Solar 2 told me in an unattributed statement that it wants Boulder City “to receive the greatest possible revenue and contribution benefits from the project, regardless of siting on federally-owned or city-owned land.”
“TS2 wants the project to provide meaningful, measurable benefits for Boulder City residents, local businesses, and the broader community. Our goal is to develop a responsible, sustainable project that Boulder City can be proud of and that can serve as a national model.”
The people I talked to for this story were largely flummoxed at BLM’s determination that the data center would be “essentially like” the solar farm that was approved in 2023. “These are two unrelated projects,” Culver told me. “I find it very hard to see how this would not trigger the need for a new analysis or public engagement.”
BLM’s logic made my head hurt, too. Among other things, the agency said “both proposals will use the exact same location, same acreage, and same perimeter,” and “both are proposals for industrial uses that will operationalize cutting-edge technologies that are predominantly electrical and solid state in nature.” The agency also claimed the data center was just like the solar farm because construction would take approximately the same amount of time, and would involve facilities and changes that “are visually geometric and less than 30 feet in height.”
You could describe a data center this way, but you could also describe any other number of things this way: a grocery store, a factory, a rollercoaster.
When I asked BLM for comment, a spokesperson simply sent me back the text used in the press release announcing Townsite Solar 2’s data center approval. A press representative for Townsite Solar 2 declined to provide details about who handled government affairs for the data center project, except to say that it hadn’t hired any federal lobbyists.
Some of Trump’s loudest critics told me they think this deal happened because Arevon, a joint partner described as a key financier in the project’s application with Boulder City, hired lobbyists with The Bernhardt Group, a government relations firm created last year by former Trump Interior Secretary David Bernhardt. Arevon hired the firm around the same time Townsite Solar 2 initiated the process to use the federal land for the data center, according to federal disclosures.
I have a history with Bernhardt. After leaving the Trump administration in 2021, Bernhardt went on to run the Trumpworld think tank America First Policy Institute and released a tell-all book, You Report to Me, that called for the bureaucracy to stand down against — as he put it to me — “the interests of the executive.” (I interviewed him around the time of its publication, after which he gave me an unsolicited copy of the book that I keep at my bedside as a form of dark humor.)
These days Bernhardt’s firm represents oil interests, including energy companies, mining, and large-scale agricultural interests that use lots of water (think: almonds). But it’s also pitching itself to the AI energy commentariat. In May, the former Interior secretary authored an op-ed in The Washington Examiner calling for rapid investment in U.S. artificial intelligence infrastructure. He then took to right-wing TV network Newsmax to promote the column, arguing that people fighting to stop data centers were just trying to “oppose the president’s vision for energy dominance.”
It would be easy to point at these federal disclosures and online comments and claim this bizarre data center land use swap is the work of a familiar Trump-era boogeyan. Except Arevon was effusive to me in saying that is not what happened here. In a statement, the company said that it’s a passive member of the joint venture, holds less than 25% ownership stake, and has “not directly hired consultants or lobbyists for this project.”
I didn’t get a response from Overwatch, a data center engineering and design firm contracted to help with the project. Overwatch does have a director of government affairs, but their hire was announced months after the application would have been submitted to BLM.
This leaves us sleuths to conclude the likeliest reason this happened is also the most obvious one: Trump just wants data centers on federal lands, and this was a way to make that happen. What happens next will have enormous implications for the future of data center development and federal land use in the United States, especially if more companies facing federal permit stonewalling seek to turn their solar farm permits into permission to build AI infrastructure.