Johnson: Data center outrage reveals, again, the tale of two Birminghams

This is an opinion column

There is Birmingham, and then there is Birmingham. It has been that way for a long time, spanning decades well before I arrived 12 years ago.

One Birmingham represents a history of promise, rooted in the city's steel-driven heritage. It is a place defined by opportunity, jobs, and the prosperity of families. The other Birmingham, however, carries the heavy, shameful scars of Jim Crow, Bull Connor, the KKK, and the violence of bombings. It remains a place long left behind by industry, political power, and hope—a community that has perpetually clawed for basic respect, safe playgrounds, road repairs, and dignity.

A Tale of Two Cities

This divide manifests in tangible ways, including a life expectancy gap that separates the two populations by years. It is a reality that surfaces whenever resources or control are stripped away, such as when the Birmingham Water Works was pilfered by outsiders and state political powers.

Interestingly, the segment of the city that remained silent during the utility takeover was nowhere to be found during protests. Yet, that same group recently stormed City Hall with intense opposition when the city council aimed to regulate the rise of data centers. These facilities, essentially modern-day steel mills, serve as the infrastructure for our technology-dependent lives, but their potential impact on local surroundings has sparked a firestorm of debate.

Regulating the Future

Legitimate questions surround these data centers, particularly regarding power consumption, water usage, and long-term environmental effects. While some answers may not be clear for decades, inaction is not a viable strategy. In March, the council enacted a six-month moratorium to study how other cities handle these developments, ultimately resulting in 20 new specifications for data center approval or expansion.

Following a 6-3 vote to approve the ordinance, the council faced severe backlash. The tenor of the outrage felt all too familiar, echoing the intensity seen seven years ago when residents of Glen Iris blocked a $10 million youth baseball and softball academy—a gift from Major League Baseball. Because that project would have occupied part of a local park, the city fumbled the opportunity, and MLB ultimately took its investment elsewhere, leaving local youth without a place to develop their skills.

As 205focus.com observers continue to track these developments, the challenge for city leadership remains balancing these competing interests. Their job is to pursue the best path for all of Birmingham, even when it invites intense scrutiny. We can only hope for the day when these two Birminghams finally become one.