This article is exclusively
for Heatmap Plus subscribers.
Log in
To continue reading, log in to your account.
Create a Free Account
To unlock more free articles, please create a free account.

Sign In or Create an Account.
By continuing, you agree to the Terms of Service and acknowledge our Privacy Policy
Welcome to Heatmap
Thank you for registering with Heatmap. Climate change is one of the greatest challenges of our lives, a force reshaping our economy, our politics, and our culture. We hope to be your trusted, friendly, and insightful guide to that transformation. Please enjoy your free articles. You can check your profile here .
subscribe to get Unlimited access
Offer for a Heatmap News Unlimited Access subscription; please note that your subscription will renew automatically unless you cancel prior to renewal. Cancellation takes effect at the end of your current billing period. We will let you know in advance of any price changes. Taxes may apply. Offer terms are subject to change.
Subscribe to get unlimited Access
Hey, you are out of free articles but you are only a few clicks away from full access. Subscribe below and take advantage of our introductory offer.
subscribe to get Unlimited access
Offer for a Heatmap News Unlimited Access subscription; please note that your subscription will renew automatically unless you cancel prior to renewal. Cancellation takes effect at the end of your current billing period. We will let you know in advance of any price changes. Taxes may apply. Offer terms are subject to change.
Create Your Account
Please Enter Your Password
Forgot your password?
Please enter the email address you use for your account so we can send you a link to reset your password:
A renewables project runs into trouble — and wins.

It turns out that in order to get a wind farm approved in Trump’s America, you have to treat the project like a local election. One developer working in North Dakota showed the blueprint.
Earlier this year, we chronicled the Longspur wind project, a 200-megawatt project in North Dakota that would primarily feed energy west to Minnesota. In Morton County where it would be built, local zoning officials seemed prepared to reject the project – a significant turn given the region’s history of supporting wind energy development. Based on testimony at the zoning hearing about Longspur, it was clear this was because there’s already lots of turbines spinning in Morton County and there was a danger of oversaturation that could tip one of the few friendly places for wind power against its growth. Longspur is backed by Allete, a subsidiary of Minnesota Power, and is supposed to help the utility meet its decarbonization targets.
Except by the time the zoning officials’ decision came before the full county commission, the winds were once again blowing at Longspur’s back and county officials denied the denial. Then a few weeks later, the zoning board reconsidered Longspur and opted to approve it. Now Longspur has the permits it needs from the county.
“They have the right to put the towers on their land,” Morton County commission vice chair Jackie Buckley told me. “And Longspur has crossed their Ts and dotted their Is.”
I investigated what happened here and it turns out, Allete saw what happened at the hearing and worked extremely hard to bring supporters out when the zoning officials’ decision came before the full Morton County commission. They brought with them a bevy of landowners with a future Longspur turbine sited on their property to speak, so many that it severely outnumbered the opposition. One after another, residents spoke out against the anti-wind naysayers, a phenomenon I rarely see in fights over renewable energy projects in the United States. One resident called the wind turbines “a windfall” that was ensuring their family’s “retirement plans.” Another compared it to neighbors denying a farm the right to build a barn. Multiple people said if coal mining could happen in Morton County, why couldn’t wind?
“We just tried to understand, even internally. We asked, ‘Why didn’t we have more proponents speaking?’” Todd Simmons, Allete’s vice president of generation operations, told me in an interview this week about the project’s initial rejection. He said after the initial zoning rejection, the company then went door to door asking supporters to come testify. “We tried to make sure that landowners knew that you may have to show up and be more than present. We wanted a civil meeting, and we did not want an argumentative meeting, [but] they were not coached.”
Candidly, this style of outreach reminds me a lot of door-to-door campaign canvassing and a well-worn phrase in professional politics: it all comes down to turnout. And Allete treated the situation that way, telling me that the initial rejection to them was because of an absence, not conflict. “When the folks who were anti- spoke, and the rest of the crowd did not say anything, there was a belief that silence was [an] agreement by the rest,” Simmons told me.
Buckley told me that some of these supporters were actually at the zoning hearing too, but did not want to speak up because “they wouldn’t talk against their neighbor.” Out in rural communities like Morton County, “they all know each other – it’s all one neighborhood community.” In the end, the county commission felt it couldn’t deny people’s property rights, let alone invite whatever legal ramifications would arrive from denying the project in spite of the support from these property owners. “I think it had to do more with private property rights and the people that were in favor of it have property rights, same as do the people in opposition,” Simmons said.
I think there’s an important conclusion to be drawn from what happened in Morton County for any renewable energy project developer out there dealing with local opposition. Too often I watch and listen to local permitting hearings where the dissenting voices are the only ones raised. There are obvious risks for anyone in a small community who does speak up, as I’ve heard of threats against people who come out in support of a project, from anti-renewables homeowners. But it’s clear from what happened to Longspur there is strength in numbers when supporters are mobilized to speak up.
Allete told me they saw an education in the Longspur permitting process too. “It doesn’t matter where you’re building,” SImmons said. “Working with the landowners, and the public agencies…. The sooner you can help them understand what the project is actually about, the better you are.”
Log in
To continue reading, log in to your account.
Create a Free Account
To unlock more free articles, please create a free account.
Water pollution in Wyoming has big implications for the future of data center development.
Did a Meta data center introduce a rare, dangerous bacteria into the sewers system of Wyoming’s capitol city? It’s an environmental pollution mystery with an answer that could decide the future of American AI infrastructure development.
Our drama begins in Cheyenne, Wyoming, where the city’s board of public utilities just wrapped up a lengthy investigation into the presence of Cupriavidus gilardii, a potentially lethal bacteria resistant to heavy metals, in the city’s wastewater treatment systems. Apparently, in February, board staff detected the contamination and shut off public access to the city’s water reuse system, a supply of treated non-potable water fed with treated wastewater and used for lawns, athletic fields, and other green spaces. Officials were worried that spraying this water could release into the environment a bacteria found to cause fatal health outcomes in immunocompromised or elderly people who are infected by it.
The board then identified a culprit – Goat Systems LLC, a Delaware-registered firm without a website Meta tasked with overseeing its large $800 million hyperscale project in Cheyenne dubbed Project Cosmo. Goat Systems lost its wastewater disposal permit. The board plans to also fine Goat Systems for violating city code “along with additional fees for our remediation efforts,” board public affairs coordinator Erin Lamb told me in an email. (The only person publicly affiliated with Goat Systems is Pamela Gregorski, an employee for a company that specializes in creating LLCs. Gregorski, who is linked to other LLCs handling Meta projects across the country, did not reply to requests for comment.)
In public comments and statements to me, the board linked the bacteria to water used to flush the Meta data center’s closed-loop cooling system so debris could be removed before the facility was operational. “We were able to connect the Meta data center campus to this through sampling their site,” Lamb said.
This finding led Cheyenne to also indefinitely ban data center projects in the city from ever disposing of “fill-and-flush water” in the sewer system again.
Meta has not denied contamination was found by the city, but says repeated sampling at its project site failed to come up with any evidence confirming they were the source. One can imagine a scenario where the data center and its design played no role in this bacteria showing up, or that city officials erroneously tagged the tech company with responsibility at a time when they’re dealing with political troubles already.
But what is happening in Cheyenne, first reported last week by Wyoming local press, will have consequences for the future of AI infrastructure whether or not Meta was actually even responsible. Right now, all over the country, tech companies are failing to get permits for their data centers because people are worried about water use. These closed-loop data center designs are supposed to address those concerns, letting large hyperscalers contain, cycle, and reuse the water they use for months or even years. A story like this gaining traction in public discourse around data centers will inevitably damage the sector’s public image unless rectified – and fast.
Cheyenne’s claims about the Meta data center being responsible for the bacteria have already metastasized on social media, disseminated through channels often cited by data center opponents on the ground elsewhere in the country. “REPORT: ‘RARE’ BACTERIA DISCHARGED INTO WYOMING WATERSHED LINKED TO DATA CENTER,” reads one post by a Facebook user Izzy Bella that has been shared more than 2,600 times. “Think of this the next time you hear blatant greenwashed lies like ‘closed loop cooling.” This post has been shared by major anti-data center groups on Facebook, including Pennsylvania Data Center Resistance, a social media page for organizing against projects in the Keystone State.
Going solely off what happened in Wyoming, some in the state are concerned the process of cleaning these loops before opening a data center can produce some nasty byproducts. Dr. Jonathan Brand, a civil engineering professor at University of Wyoming, has been studying the data center buildout in Wyoming for years, watching what’s happened in Cheyenne closely, and like me has way more questions than answers.
Usually, Brand said, a company using water in metal-intensive industrial applications – think a metal plating facility – has to test that fluid before it’s dumped into a municipal sewer system. The chain of events spelled out by the board left him “guessing that didn’t happen here,” and he’s worried the bacteria formed within whatever petri dish-like environment was created inside the network of looping pipes before it was flushed.
“The bacterium was the canary they saw, but you could have a lot of residual metals, which is not something we normally test for at a wastewater plant,” he said. “What else was in that discharge? Nobody else has let us know that and they’re probably not going to.”
City officials claim the water was tested before it entered the sewer and was missed, but there’s a trust deficit between locals and the government on what happened. Little of this information was public until a few weeks ago. Cheyenne residents first learned trouble was afoot on June 26, when the board posted a press release “reminding all residential, commercial, and industrial customers that the discharge of hazardous substances into the sanitary sewer system is strictly prohibited.” Nothing was included about data centers at all; all the board said was that the bacteria was dumped by “an industrial user within the system.”
Then Exie Brown, a Cheyenne resident and GOP candidate for state house, blasted a press release out on social media declaring “a credible source with knowledge of the [board] investigation and sampling” told him the “industrial user” was a data center.
I reached out to Brown asking how he learned about this. His answers were cryptic. “I was given a piece of paper with that name of a bacteria on it,” he told me over the phone, declining to name the “very credible source” who told him about the contamination. “That it was released into our waste water system, that it came from a data center, that it was Meta, that they found out in February, and I needed to check into this.” When I asked why the piece of paper, he replied: “Because they [the source] wanted to keep this quiet. Off the phones and stuff.”
City officials deny any malintentions behind the delay and claim they’re learning about all of this at the same pace as the average resident. “We learned here a week or so ago,” Cheyenne mayor Patrick Collins told me in an interview. He added this wouldn’t have stirred as much interest “had it been something else,” referencing the fact it was from a data center.
“As I understand it, the contractor that was building the site was flushing out a closed-loop cooling system, and when they tested the water everything seemed to be fine, but when it was released into our system, bacteria had grown and was released into our wastewater treatment,” Collins said. “It just happened to be a data center. It’s an unfortunate and highly regrettable situation.”
The mayor acknowledged this contamination will make it “a little tougher” to argue for more data centers in the city. There are currently 10 operational data centers in Cheyenne and surrounding Laramie County, according to estimates from pro-business group Cheyenne LEADS, which has said five projects are under construction – including the Meta facility – and at least nine others are “in various stages of planning or due diligence.”
On Monday, the Cheyenne city council will vote on whether to annex land owned by various nearby property owners for more data center deals, including parcels owned by the family of U.S. Senator Cynthia Lummis. Before this event, Cheyenne was incredibly resistant to the anti-data center backlash, handily rejecting proposals to pause development.
Collins thinks Cheyenne will still be open to the tech sector. But the bacteria changed things. “I recognize there’s going to be challenges as we move forward. It’s something we’re going to have to look into. This was a regrettable situation that happened.”
We will see more transparency soon from the Cheyenne city government about the contamination. The board tells me it’s planning a press conference next week where Lamb told me “more information will be made available.”
Francis Brennan, a public affairs manager in the company’s strategic response division, provided me with a statement from an unnamed “Meta spokesperson” claiming that Fortis – the construction company hired by Meta and Goat Systems LLC – was directly handling water disposal on site. After the board “shared that it found a substance in the city’s wastewater” the construction company “began hauling it offsite.” Meta claimed Fortis has not been able to corroborate the presence of this bacteria in comparable water samples.
“Meta is committed to being a good neighbor in Cheyenne, including through the protection of local water resources, and will continue encouraging collaboration between Fortis and the board until this situation is revoked,” the statement read. Meta declined to answer follow-up questions..
Fortis confirmed they were responsible for dumping water on site when the contamination was discovered. They stated they’ve been unable to confirm the presence of the bacteria. In a statement provided to me, the company said: “Immediately upon learning of the issue, we stopped discharging water into the city’s wastewater system. We have since engaged in a thorough investigation that has included ongoing repeat testing by independent environmental specialists and have found no trace of the substance.”
A conversation with Ross Marchard of the Taxpayers Protection Alliance
This week’s conversation is with Ross Marchard, executive director for the Taxpayers Protection Alliance, a center-right advocacy group that focuses on what it sees are onerous policies potentially hindering responsible collection and use of tax dollars. TPA’s position on AI clearly skews pro-free market, as they’ve recently defended Anthropic from Trump administration attacks. TPA also recently took on the mantle of defending data centers from noise complaints, publishing a paper on Tuesday “debunking myths about data centers being excessively noisy.” The paper references various analyses of data centers by state legislators and local regulators to argue that claims the sector is generally noisy are false.
I asked TPA’s executive director to chat with me about why and how the organization will try to quell these fears. The conversation was really interesting so I decided to share it with you in full, sans light editing for clarity and consistency.
What prompted you to write this report?
Obviously, data center projects have been getting so much media attention. With that attention there’s an outsized share of misinformation in coverage of these data center projects, and politicians have irresponsibly spread this misinformation to try and enact moratoria and heavy-handed restrictions on these projects
TPA wanted to get the truth out. Make sure local residents living alongside these data centers have access to all the information they need. Make sure this misinformation is countered.
Before we get into the noise aspect, how is this focusing on “taxpayer protection”?
Sure, well, great case in point is Loudon County. They’ve embraced data centers and look what’s happened, they take in a billion dollars a year in revenue from these data centers and it’s allowed them to lower property taxes. You see a wider pattern across communities. They rake in a tremendous amount of tax revenue and increasingly common well-paying jobs, six-figure blue collar jobs that are a direct result of allowing data centers into communities.
I know you’re based in D.C., near Loudon County. I went to a data center in Sterling, Virginia, in that county, and it was especially noisy. Sort of a worst case scenario on that. Your report talks about misinformation around noise and data center – where is the misinformation happening on this issue?
We saw a recent court case out of New Jersey that alleges data centers generally are as loud as helicopters. Look, anything is possible for a particular project. But what we can say based on our analysis of the data, studies and sound impact assessments, and analyses by state and local governments is that this isn’t the case for the vast majority of data centers.
No use of land is going to be sound-free. I live right on Georgia Avenue in Washington, D.C., so I know noise. But everything we analyzed showed data centers and energy generation on site are going to make some noise but not enough to be harmful to human health. Often it’s no louder than the typical conversation between two people.
Speaking of Loudon County, though, I can point to an example of a project I myself visited that was I’m sure welcomed at first on tax revenue grounds. Now people seem to regret that decision.
As someone trying to address those who are concerned, is it helpful for you to really just call this concern rooted in misinformation? Is this really going to be potent when projects like the one in Sterling exist?
First and foremost, it’s very important to listen to people and their concerns. If folks are living alongside a data center and say they’re hearing loud noises, that warrants investigation. But it’s also important to look at the full array of evidence and we’ve done that. So far, it does not appear to be the case based on the overwhelming amount of evidence that is publicly available that data centers use a lot of water, use inordinate amounts of electricity, or are loud in a way that disrupts human health.
What do you think the policy solutions are to address these noise concerns? How do you listen to people, without going into overgeneralization, as you put it?
People tend to point out the loudest data centers are the ones with on site energy generation. If you ask the operators of data centers and the companies building data centers, they’ll tell you more often than not the reason they’re putting generation on site because the utility permitting process takes far too long. That’s the result not necessarily of utility regulations but state regulations foisted upon utilities. So you have to look at everything from state regulation to grid operation regulation. If you make the process easier for data centers to get hooked up to the grid, you’ll see less on site energy generation, and a lot of the noise complaints will go away.
So from your standpoint, a solution to the noise complaint is that it should be easier to hook up to the grid?
Yes. If you allow data centers to get hooked up to the grid, you’ll see fewer diesel generators and that’ll mean fewer noise complaints.
Now, I want to be clear, the vast majority of data centers with noise complaints – those are usually because of on-site energy generation – are not unduly noisy. If you want to cut down on those complaints, what makes the most sense is to make it easier for data centers to hook up.
Fun question to close: what was the last song you listened to?
“Yellow” by Coldplay.
Are you listening to “Yellow” while you’re writing about data centers?
I listen to the song sometimes when I’m writing about data centers. It’s also a very good somber reflection song, which is a pretty common sentiment amongst millennials.
And more of the week’s news around project development.
1. Barnstable County, Massachusetts – I have a whopper of an update on the Vineyard Wind project, which might be in operation but risks becoming fodder in the fight against offshore wind.
2. Prince William County, Virginia – Northern Virginia is officially hostile territory for data center developers, and I learned about it through a call from my mom.
3. Marion County, Indiana – Indianapolis will have special data center zoning rules soon and they’re upsetting the opposition to new projects.
4. Palm Beach County, Florida – This populous county home to Mar-a-Lago has frozen data center development.
5. Finney County, Kansas – If you want one ray of sunshine, at least it’s still possible to get permission for a large solar farm in flyover country.
(Editor’s note: A previous version of this article mistakenly stated a company declined to comment for the story. It has been corrected. We regret the error.)