A new Washington Post–Schar School poll out of Virginia should be a wake-up call for anyone involved in data center growth.

In 2023, nearly seven in 10 Virginia voters said they were comfortable with a new data center in their community. Today, that number has fallen to 35 percent. Support for tax incentives has also dropped sharply.

Those numbers are striking, but not surprising.

Communities across the country have been grappling with the same issues for years: rising energy demand, land-use conflicts, water concerns, tax abatements, traffic, noise, and the basic question of whether local benefits justify local impacts.

At the same time, enormous time, money, and political capital have been spent at the top of the system. Companies and industry groups have poured resources into Washington, gubernatorial relationships, congressional outreach, and national campaigns built around AI competitiveness and economic growth.

That focus is understandable. Mayors matter. Governors matter. Members of Congress and White House support matters.

But it misses where projects are actually approved, and where opposition is actually organized.

People do not experience data centers through federal policy announcements or campaign rhetoric. They experience them locally: through rezoning hearings, truck traffic, utility bills, diesel backup generators, transmission lines, construction disruption, and resident engagement before decisions are made.

That is why these battles are rarely won in Washington, in governors’ offices, or in the pages of The Wall Street Journal. They are won—or lost—with county boards, planning commissions, utility regulators, civic organizations, neighborhood leaders, and the local reporter covering Tuesday night’s hearing.

And the organizations that often matter most are not always political committees or national trade groups. They are trusted institutions with standing in local communities.

Sometimes that means national organizations with real local reach—chapters of NAACP, United Way Worldwide, Rotary International, Kiwanis International, Lions Clubs International, or Boys & Girls Clubs of America.

Sometimes it means policy and environmental voices such as World Resources Institute, Sierra Club, or Natural Resources Defense Council.

And often it means hyperlocal actors with no national profile at all: a neighborhood association president, a school leader, a faith coalition, or a respected former elected official.

Likewise, the journalist who matters most may not write for a national outlet. It may be the local reporter whose beat includes Tuesday night zoning meetings.

The industry too often mistakes elite support with public consent. A favorable headline does not equal neighborhood trust. A federal policy win does not guarantee a local permit. A governor’s endorsement does not silence a packed public hearing.

None of it can substitute for trust once it has been lost.

This backlash did not emerge overnight. It has been visible in delayed approvals, citizen petitions, lawsuits, crowded public hearings, and increasingly organized local opposition in municipalities across the country.

Too many decision-makers mistook quiet communities for supportive ones. They were simply unheard.

The next phase of data center growth will belong to companies that understand community engagement is not a late-stage communications exercise. It is a core business strategy.

That means listening earlier. Explaining impacts honestly. Quantifying local benefits clearly. Partnering with credible local institutions. Tailoring solutions to local concerns. Treating trust with the same seriousness as land, power, and capital.

Because you can finance a project nationally. But you still have to legitimize it locally.