After a much-needed break, I’m back to “kind regards,” and I want to share something that’s been gnawing at me since before my vacation.
After a much-needed break, I’m back to “kind regards,” and I want to share something that’s been gnawing at me since before my vacation.
I attended a conference in Stellenbosch, South Africa on Digital Sovereignty in Africa organised by colleagues Andrew Crawford Mohammad Amir Anwar, where we toured a data center, my first time inside one. And no, it wasn’t the sci‑fi fantasy of endless glowing servers you see in movies. The reality was more mundane, and more troubling.
The place was beautiful, aesthetically, but since I am not talking about pageantry here or interior decor, I won't focus on that. We asked how much energy they were pulling from the grid, and there was a collective gasp when they mentioned the thousands of megawatts. We had seen solar panels on their building and were quite disappointed to find out that they only provided lighting. They proceeded to show us towering generators that, if operational, guzzle almost 500 litres of diesel per hour. We also asked about their water use, and perhaps to stop our shocked gasps again, the staff proudly told us they ran on rainwater and their own boreholes. They then went on a technical run of how the rainwater was recycled and stuff.
From the rooftop, where giant cooling towers and rainwater tanks loomed, I looked across the road. A shanty town stretched opposite: corrugated iron shacks packed tight, electrical wires dangling overhead. Cape Town’s inequality laid bare in a single glance: high-tech servers drinking rainwater to stay cool, while people next door queue for buckets.
People love to point at the sky when they talk about “the cloud.” I recall a conversation with a friend where I was talking about data centers and she asked: “Why do we even need data centers now that everything’s on the cloud?” I chuckled, but here’s the thing: that misunderstanding isn’t just my friend’s. It’s global. Entire tech narratives have trained us to imagine “the cloud” as something ethereal, weightless, almost holy. But here's the thing: the cloud has nothing to do with cumulus or nimbus formations in the sky. The cloud is concrete, glass, and steel. It's thousands of megawatts pulled from the grid, diesel generators guzzling 500 liters per hour, and communities going without water so these digital "clouds" can stay online.
Every photo you upload. Every Netflix binge. Every ChatGPT query. It all runs through buildings like this. AI evangelists call it weightless intelligence. But there’s nothing weightless here: lithium mines, power grids, drought‑stricken lands turned into server farms.
Tech Bros have sold us the lie that AI will solve the climate crisis, but it's actually AI that's accelerating it. Just Google how much energy and water your favorite AI model consumes and then come argue with me.
The next time someone tells you to "upload it to the cloud," don't look up. Look around.