AI’s data-centre land rush reaches Native reservations



TL;DR

AI’s data-centre boom is pushing developers onto Native American land, drawn by space, water, power, and tax incentives, with Indigenous-led group Honor the Earth tracking 100+ proposed projects on or near tribal territory. The issue genuinely splits Indian Country: the DOE and some tribes see economic opportunity (energy sales, ownership stakes, jobs), while activists warn of “data colonialism,” water depletion, grid strain, and opaque deal-making. It is a sharp version of a data-centre backlash spreading nationwide.

The scramble to build AI data centres is pushing developers toward Native American land. Indigenous-led group Honor the Earth says it is tracking more than 100 proposed projects on or near tribal and rural territory.

The appeal for developers is practical. Large land-based tribes often have space, water rights, and power access, and reservations can offer tax advantages that make hyperscale builds cheaper.

Those same features make the projects consequential for communities that have heard promises about their land before. The result is a debate that runs right through Indian Country, rather than neatly for or against.

On one side is opportunity. The US Department of Energy has promoted data centres as an economic opening for tribes, through energy sales, long-term operations, and ownership stakes, and some nations are pursuing their own data and training projects.

On the other is deep suspicion. Honor the Earth’s executive director Krystal Two Bulls has described the buildout as a “modern-day iteration” of settler colonialism, citing water depletion, grid strain, and pollution.

How the deals get made

Part of the unease is about tactics. Activists say developers often approach through subsidiaries or Native-owned energy firms, sometimes opening with talk of solar power before pivoting to data centres, and asking leaders to sign non-disclosure agreements first.

That opacity makes informed consent hard, critics argue, in communities with long memories of extractive deals. Some have simply said no, with the Seminole Nation reportedly voting unanimously for a permanent data-centre moratorium.

Water and power sit at the centre of the worry. Data centres are thirsty and electricity-hungry, and the strain is showing up on bills, with costs climbing near big builds in ways that can fall on nearby residents.

A familiar fight in new form

The tribal-lands debate is a sharp version of a backlash spreading nationwide. Grassroots groups blocked 75 data-centre projects worth $130bn in a single quarter, and even towns that paused projects have faced corporate pushback.

Regulators have often smoothed the path rather than slowed it, with the US energy watchdog fast-tracking grid connections for data centres. That acceleration is part of why the land search has widened so fast.

Underlying it all is a resource question the industry has been slow to answer, which is why the UN has urged AI firms to disclose their environmental costs and warned against shifting them onto vulnerable communities. Tribal lands sit squarely in that category.

What makes Indian Country distinct is sovereignty, since tribes can negotiate, tax, and refuse on their own terms in ways local councils cannot. That is both their leverage and the reason the offers keep coming.

For some nations, a well-structured deal could fund schools and jobs for a generation. For others, it looks like the same old bargain in a data-centre’s clothing, and both can be true on different reservations at once.



Source link

Leave a Reply

Subscribe to Our Newsletter

Get our latest articles delivered straight to your inbox. No spam, we promise.

Recent Reviews


TL;DR

Meta stripped NameTag facial recognition code from its AI app one day after WIRED exposed it on 50 million phones. Meta says no decision has been made.

Meta removed nearly all traces of an unreleased facial recognition system from its smart glasses companion app on Friday, one day after WIRED reported that the software had been quietly embedded in an app installed on more than 50 million phones. The feature, which Meta internally called NameTag, was designed to convert faces captured by the company’s Ray-Ban smart glasses into unique biometric signatures and compare them against a database stored on the user’s device. WIRED also found that faces the system failed to recognise were cropped, indexed, and stored locally for future processing.

Andy Stone, Meta’s vice president of communications, told WIRED on Monday that the feature is “purely exploratory,” adding that no final decision has been made on what to do with it. That characterisation sits uneasily with the evidence WIRED documented. The version of Meta AI published the day of WIRED’s Thursday report contained several code libraries explicitly named for face recognition, a process for running the NameTag recognition pipeline, and a “Person recognised” alert the app would have shown if someone were identified.

Friday’s release stripped all of it out, along with a folder where the app would have stored the cropped images and biometric signatures of unrecognised faces. Meta did not answer WIRED’s questions about why the code was removed or whether the changes were planned before the story was published. A few fragments remain in the latest version, including an internal debug menu label and a dormant link meant to open a recognised person’s profile, pointing to parts of the system that are no longer there.

The 💜 of EU tech

The latest rumblings from the EU tech scene, a story from our wise ol’ founder Boris, and some questionable AI art. It’s free, every week, in your inbox. Sign up now!

The gap between Meta’s public statements and the code WIRED found is the central tension. Before the Thursday report, Stone dismissed the findings by writing that the company could not answer questions about how the system would work because “the feature does not exist.” Andrew Bosworth, Meta’s chief technology officer, called the reporting “incredibly misleading” and “absolutely dishonest.” Yet the code was functional enough to include three AI models, one to detect faces, another to crop them, and a third to encode them as biometric data, all embedded in the companion app for a product already at the centre of a mounting privacy crisis.

Meta declined to answer ten questions WIRED posed before publishing, including whether it had already created the database of face profiles NameTag uses, how long the app retains photographs and biometric data of unrecognised people, and whether that data would ever be sent back to Meta’s servers. The company also did not respond to questions about whether it was building NameTag for blind or low-vision users, or to criticism from privacy advocates who warned the system could let stalkers and abusers identify strangers in public.

NameTag first surfaced in February, when The New York Times, citing internal Meta documents, reported that the company was developing face recognition for its smart glasses and considering a launch as early as this year. One internal memo reportedly described releasing the feature during a “dynamic political environment” when privacy and civil liberties advocates would be distracted by other concerns. WIRED subsequently found that much of NameTag’s machinery had been built into the Meta AI app as early as January, months before any public acknowledgement, adding another layer to the company’s pattern of shipping first and disclosing later when it comes to its smart glasses.

Kade Crockford, director of the technology for liberty programme at the American Civil Liberties Union of Massachusetts, said the removal does not undo the original decision to ship the code and pointed to it as evidence that consumer privacy needs stronger legal protection than Congress has been willing to provide. The Massachusetts House of Representatives last week unanimously passed a consumer privacy bill that, if enacted as written, would impose strong enforcement provisions including a private right of action allowing aggrieved users to sue. “State lawmakers need to do their job and step up to protect consumer privacy,” Crockford said.

Meta’s sneaky tactics in slipping the face-recognition code into its smart glasses show exactly why data privacy bills need the teeth of strong enforcement,” Crockford added. “Companies like Meta prioritise their bottom line, so lawmakers need to speak in the only language its C-suite understands.” Whether a code removal prompted by investigative reporting constitutes a victory or merely a tactical retreat depends on what Meta does next, and on whether the regulatory pressure building on both sides of the Atlantic produces enforceable consequences before the feature quietly returns under a different name.



Source link