I drove by the 600-plus-acre Google development out in Monrovia a couple times last week, and I struggled to comprehend what my eyes were seeing.
Everywhere I looked, massive earth-moving machines were bustling around like ants on an anthill. Ground pads have been formed and leveled for future buildings. An enormous berm of earth, some 20 feet tall, is being piled up parallel to Antioch Road — for the benefit of the neighbors, ya know. A blacktop roadway has been installed, leading up to the cluster of construction trailers where the work crews rendezvous every morning and evening. Security fencing — with the top extenders pointing outward (razor wire will be installed soon enough, I figure) — and cameras surround the perimeter of the property. And at least one “security” vehicle drives the surrounding country roads 24 hours a day.
My senses were overloaded by the dizzying array.
And the great irony was not lost on me that Monrovia was the subject of the 2018 documentary by globally acclaimed filmmaker Frederick Wiseman.
The film’s official synopsis reads: “The film explores the conflicting stereotypes and illustrates how values like community service, duty, spiritual life, generosity and authenticity are formed, experienced and lived. The film gives a complex and nuanced view of daily life in Monrovia and provides some understanding of a rural, mid-American way of life that has always been important in America but whose influence and force have not always been recognized or understood in the big cities on the east and west coasts of America and in other countries.”
The New York Times described Wiseman — who coincidentally died on Monday at 96 — as “the greatest American poet” for his ability to convey deep truths in visual, albeit unconventional ways.
I wonder what he’d have thought about these recent developments. Perhaps a sequel would have been in order.
Rural America collides with the global innovations of Big Tech, and not just any tech company, but Google — a multi-trillion dollar company with a checkered reputation on multiple fronts, especially when it comes to its artificial intelligence.
The county’s elected were seemingly unbothered by (or worse yet, uninformed of) any of these realities, all too entranced by the dollar signs that were dangled.
And better yet, they’re ready for more. Full-steam ahead.
We recently got ahold of a resolution they passed with little fanfare last October — Resolution 2025-10-6: “A resolution of the County Board of Commissioners Supporting Energy and Industrial Development in Morgan County.”
I attached a screenshot as it’s worth the read. But I’m compelled to highlight a few key areas, not the least of which is its emphasis on “streamlined permitting,” which seems eerily similar to a controversial piece of legislation going through the General Assembly right now — removing the traditional mechanisms of local regulation in the name of the ever “hallowed” economic development.
It would seem that massive corporations in the private sector — and that seemingly antiquated notion of free-market enterprise — are ineffectual without state-level meddling by Big Government.
And it appears our locally elected are borrowing from the handbook, promising to “explore expedited permitting processes” for data centers.
Another key to the equation in our beloved commissioners’ resolution are the “sustainability goals,” which encourage future data centers to “use local (electrical) generation.”
It mentions coal, natural gas and “renewables” (whatever that means) before casually mentioning the cryptic acronym “SMRs” at the end of the list.
A quick search solves the riddle. Small modular reactors (SMRs) are, in fact, nuclear energy.
We caught wind late last year that AES is “studying the feasibility” of installing nuclear reactors at Eagle Valley, as they’re able to generate far more electricity on a much smaller footprint.
And they are proceeding with the full blessing of our county’s top officials.
One of the big factors is whether there’s water nearby for cooling the nuclear reactors. Of course, we know Eagle Valley sits on the White River, sooooo … here comes another big straw for the water table.
Between the data centers, nuclear reactors and the “technology park” planned near Lebanon, I wonder how many enormous straws can be put into the water table before the water table drops to the floor.
But, but … MONEY!
Oh, but wait, I forgot to mention the fourth bullet point: Community Engagement.
The county promises to “engage with residents and stakeholders to ensure transparency and address concerns.”
We see how well that played out throughout 2025 — the year of non-disclosure agreements, back-door dealings and tight-lipped “leadership.” Heck, we didn’t even know the name of the company until everything was set in stone. And we still don’t have answers to the water question, the electricity question, the property value question and and and …
Of course, that was before this resolution passed, so maybe they were just waiting for the official documentation to feel comfortable enough to lay out all their cards.
Surely, they’ll be upfront and honest about projects they’re eyeing and nuclear reactors they’re supporting, errr, I mean, SMRs. Can’t be too explicit now.
It’s not paranoia if the threat is real.
Editor Stephen Crane is a husband, father of four and Morgan County native. Contact him at 765-201-0010 or at scrane@morgancountycorrespondent.com.
