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It’s morning in America, and the sun is shining on our photovoltaic panels.

Campaign strategists and political consultants have a lot of folk theories that guide their work, some of which are even true. One common one is that the more optimistic candidate wins, especially in presidential races: Figures such as Ronald Reagan, Bill Clinton, George W. Bush, and Barack Obama who painted a bright vision of the future with a smile on their faces triumphed over their more dour opponents. Some political science research backs it up: One study examined candidates’ rhetoric over four decades of campaigns and found “the candidate who was more a pessimistic ruminator lost 9 of 10 times.”
This presents a problem for those who want candidates to make climate change advocacy a key part of their campaigns (and make promises they’ll have to keep once they take office). If candidates want to be optimistic, they may shy away from talking too much about a topic that can be disturbing, with the potential of global catastrophe always looming.
But we’re seeing the glimmers of something interesting in the current election. Now it’s the forces of the fossil fuel status quo who sound pessimistic, while those advocating more aggressive climate action are the optimistic ones.
This is clearly a conscious choice on the part of the Biden campaign and its allies. Using the Inflation Reduction Act and its climate investments as the evidence, they’re telling a story in which the administration is striding confidently into a better future, creating jobs and cleaning the air at the same time. Pro-Biden political action committees are airing ads (see here, here, or here) featuring sweeping drone shots of wind turbines and solar arrays, and slow-motion scenes from high-tech factories where good strong Americans are doing satisfying work for good pay, all while stirring music plays in the background. It’s morning in America, and the sun is shining on our photovoltaic panels.
The $80 million that the group Climate Power is planning to spend on ads for Biden, to take one example, may not blanket the airwaves from now to November, but it’s still a significant amount devoted to telling a feel-good climate story, even if that story is only a partial one. If that’s what will motivate voters more than encouraging them to marinate in bad news about rising temperatures and CO2 emissions, that’s what we can expect candidates to do.
And the contrast with Biden’s opponent is striking. These days, Donald Trump is less likely to call climate change a hoax invented by the Chinese government (as he used to), and more likely to simply dismiss it as nothing to worry about. But when it comes to anything involving clean energy, his rhetoric turns dark and foreboding. He has a long and weird obsession with the supposed horror of wind turbines, which he believes cause cancer, kill innumerable birds, and are “driving whales crazy.” He recently told a group of oil executives, “I hate wind.” Clearly.
When talk turns to electric cars, Trump is just as grim, painting them as nightmarish misery-mobiles for both those condemned to drive them and the workers who won’t get to build them. “The cars don’t go far, they cost too much, and they’re all made in China,” he says, and “if I don’t get elected, it’s going to be a bloodbath” for the whole auto industry. At the press conference he held after being convicted on 34 felony counts, he got barely a minute into his remarks before going off on EVs: “They want to stop you from having cars with their ridiculous mandates that make it impossible for you to get a car or afford a car; make it very possible for China to build all of our cars.” If ever there was a “pessimistic ruminator,” it’s Trump.
You don’t have to be planning to buy an EV this year to be more attracted to Biden’s optimistic picture of American workers building them than Trump’s nightmarish vision of automotive dystopia. And even if some portion of the population cheers when they hear Trump promising to “Drill, drill, drill,” it’s now the forces of the status quo that sound pessimistic when it comes to energy, denying that the country is capable of innovation and adaptation. We have to just keep doing what we’re doing, they say, because we can’t have anything better.
If there’s a risk of being too optimistic in a campaign, it might be that it saps the urgency from the climate issue and produces a bias toward easy, low-cost policy solutions rather than hard choices. But the Biden administration’s record — which though far from perfect includes both crowd-pleasing spending programs and stricter regulation of emissions that have produced strong opposition — suggests that what matters most is whether a president and the people in their administration care about the climate at all.
As Heatmap’s Jeva Lange has explained, the fact that few voters respond “climate change” when asked to name the country’s most pressing problem doesn’t mean they don’t believe it’s important. And if you convince a voter that cleaner energy is a worthwhile goal to pursue, does it matter if she’s thinking more about job opportunities and lower electric bills than about reducing emissions?
It also wouldn’t be a bad thing if people came to see the issue as a contrast between the future and the past, innovative thinking and hidebound fear of change. Two decades ago, Mark Schmitt coined one of those pithy bits of insight political writers are always searching for when he wrote that in a campaign, “It’s not what you say about the issues, it’s what the issues say about you.” His example was John McCain’s advocacy for campaign finance reform, which wasn’t at the top of the voters’ priority list but communicated that McCain was a principled reformer unafraid of taking on the powerful.
In the same way, advocacy for clean energy can help candidates build an optimistic image even apart from the policy debate over whether and how the country should decarbonize. If all those ads with gleaming solar farms and humming factory floors lead people to associate the climate issue with innovation and hope rather than deprivation and misery (as Trump and others would have it), then more and more candidates may want to make that part of their image, too. And the chances of positive policy change will only increase.
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1. Marion County, Indiana — State legislators made a U-turn this week in Indiana.
2. Baldwin County, Alabama — Alabamians are fighting a solar project they say was dropped into their laps without adequate warning.
3. Orleans Parish, Louisiana — The Crescent City has closed its doors to data centers, at least until next year.
A conversation with Emily Pritzkow of Wisconsin Building Trades
This week’s conversation is with Emily Pritzkow, executive director for the Wisconsin Building Trades, which represents over 40,000 workers at 15 unions, including the International Brotherhood of Electrical Workers, the International Union of Operating Engineers, and the Wisconsin Pipe Trades Association. I wanted to speak with her about the kinds of jobs needed to build and maintain data centers and whether they have a big impact on how communities view a project. Our conversation was edited for length and clarity.
So first of all, how do data centers actually drive employment for your members?
From an infrastructure perspective, these are massive hyperscale projects. They require extensive electrical infrastructure and really sophisticated cooling systems, work that will sustain our building trades workforce for years – and beyond, because as you probably see, these facilities often expand. Within the building trades, we see the most work on these projects. Our electricians and almost every other skilled trade you can think of, they’re on site not only building facilities but maintaining them after the fact.
We also view it through the lens of requiring our skilled trades to be there for ongoing maintenance, system upgrades, and emergency repairs.
What’s the access level for these jobs?
If you have a union signatory employer and you work for them, you will need to complete an apprenticeship to get the skills you need, or it can be through the union directly. It’s folks from all ranges of life, whether they’re just graduating from high school or, well, I was recently talking to an office manager who had a 50-year-old apprentice.
These apprenticeship programs are done at our training centers. They’re funded through contributions from our journey workers and from our signatory contractors. We have programs without taxpayer dollars and use our existing workforce to bring on the next generation.
Where’s the interest in these jobs at the moment? I’m trying to understand the extent to which potential employment benefits are welcomed by communities with data center development.
This is a hot topic right now. And it’s a complicated topic and an issue that’s evolving – technology is evolving. But what we do find is engagement from the trades is a huge benefit to these projects when they come to a community because we are the community. We have operated in Wisconsin for 130 years. Our partnership with our building trades unions is often viewed by local stakeholders as the first step of building trust, frankly; they know that when we’re on a project, it’s their neighbors getting good jobs and their kids being able to perhaps train in their own backyard. And local officials know our track record. We’re accountable to stakeholders.
We are a valuable player when we are engaged and involved in these sting decisions.
When do you get engaged and to what extent?
Everyone operates differently but we often get engaged pretty early on because, obviously, our workforce is necessary to build the project. They need the manpower, they need to talk to us early on about what pipeline we have for the work. We need to talk about build-out expectations and timelines and apprenticeship recruitment, so we’re involved early on. We’ve had notable partnerships, like Microsoft in southeast Wisconsin. They’re now the single largest taxpayer in Racine County. That project is now looking to expand.
When we are involved early on, it really shows what can happen. And there are incredible stories coming out of that job site every day about what that work has meant for our union members.
To what extent are some of these communities taking in the labor piece when it comes to data centers?
I think that’s a challenging question to answer because it varies on the individual person, on what their priority is as a member of a community. What they know, what they prioritize.
Across the board, again, we’re a known entity. We are not an external player; we live in these communities and often have training centers in them. They know the value that comes from our workers and the careers we provide.
I don’t think I’ve seen anyone who says that is a bad thing. But I do think there are other factors people are weighing when they’re considering these projects and they’re incredibly personal.
How do you reckon with the personal nature of this issue, given the employment of your members is also at stake? How do you grapple with that?
Well, look, we respect, over anything else, local decision-making. That’s how this should work.
We’re not here to push through something that is not embraced by communities. We are there to answer questions and good actors and provide information about our workforce, what it can mean. But these are decisions individual communities need to make together.
What sorts of communities are welcoming these projects, from your perspective?
That’s another challenging question because I think we only have a few to go off of here.
I would say more information earlier on the better. That’s true in any case, but especially with this. For us, when we go about our day-to-day activities, that is how our most successful projects work. Good communication. Time to think things through. It is very early days, so we have some great success stories we can point to but definitely more to come.
The number of data centers opposed in Republican-voting areas has risen 330% over the past six months.
It’s probably an exaggeration to say that there are more alligators than people in Colleton County, South Carolina, but it’s close. A rural swath of the Lowcountry that went for Trump by almost 20%, the “alligator alley” is nearly 10% coastal marshes and wetlands, and is home to one of the largest undeveloped watersheds in the nation. Only 38,600 people — about the population of New York’s Kew Gardens neighborhood — call the county home.
Colleton County could soon have a new landmark, though: South Carolina’s first gigawatt data center project, proposed by Eagle Rock Partners.
That’s if it overcomes mounting local opposition, however. Although the White House has drummed up data centers as the key to beating China in the race for AI dominance, Heatmap Pro data indicate that a backlash is growing from deep within President Donald Trump’s strongholds in rural America.
According to Heatmap Pro data, there are 129 embattled data centers located in Republican-voting areas. The vast majority of these counties are rural; just six occurred in counties with more than 1,000 people per square mile. That’s compared with 93 projects opposed in Democratic areas, which are much more evenly distributed across rural and more urban areas.
Most of this opposition is fairly recent. Six months ago, only 28 data centers proposed in low-density, Trump-friendly countries faced community opposition. In the past six months, that number has jumped by 95 projects. Heatmap’s data “shows there is a split, especially if you look at where data centers have been opposed over the past six months or so,” says Charlie Clynes, a data analyst with Heatmap Pro. “Most of the data centers facing new fights are in Republican places that are relatively sparsely populated, and so you’re seeing more conflict there than in Democratic areas, especially in Democratic areas that are sparsely populated.”
All in all, the number of data centers that have faced opposition in Republican areas has risen 330% over the past six months.
Our polling reflects the breakdown in the GOP: Rural Republicans exhibit greater resistance to hypothetical data center projects in their communities than urban Republicans: only 45% of GOP voters in rural areas support data centers being built nearby, compared with nearly 60% of urban Republicans.

Such a pattern recently played out in Livingston County, Michigan, a farming area that went 61% for President Donald Trump, and “is known for being friendly to businesses.” Like Colleton County, the Michigan county has low population density; last fall, hundreds of the residents of Howell Township attended public meetings to oppose Meta’s proposed 1,000-acre, $1 billion AI training data center in their community. Ultimately, the uprising was successful, and the developer withdrew the Livingston County project.
Across the five case studies I looked at today for The Fight — in addition to Colleton and Livingston Counties, Carson County, Texas; Tucker County, West Virginia; and Columbia County, Georgia, are three other red, rural examples of communities that opposed data centers, albeit without success — opposition tended to be rooted in concerns about water consumption, noise pollution, and environmental degradation. Returning to South Carolina for a moment: One of the two Colleton residents suing the county for its data center-friendly zoning ordinance wrote in a press release that he is doing so because “we cannot allow” a data center “to threaten our star-filled night skies, natural quiet, and enjoyment of landscapes with light, water, and noise pollution.” (In general, our polling has found that people who strongly oppose clean energy are also most likely to oppose data centers.)
Rural Republicans’ recent turn on data centers is significant. Of 222 data centers that have faced or are currently facing opposition, the majority — 55% —are located in red low-population-density areas. Developers take note: Contrary to their sleepy outside appearances, counties like South Carolina’s alligator alley clearly have teeth.