So you want to build an AI data center?

Transcribed from the audio; small errors are possible.

So you want to build an AI data center? You'll need power, day and night. Here's the plan in thirteen steps— and someone else will buy the light. Step one. Pick a state that drops the tax on every server rack you buy. In Virginia: one point nine billion a year. Who counts it? You do. Nobody asks why. Step two. Make a promise, say it loud: "We'll pay our own way. Your bill won't rise." Sign it at the White House. Smile for the crowd. Promises are free. No surprise. Step three. Ask the power company for a special price, just for you—and keep it secret too. Harvard checked forty cases like this: quick yeses, closed doors, few people came through. Step four. Tell the grid how much power you'll need. Make it big. They write it down. In four auctions, the forecast nearly tripled— the grid never checked each building, town by town. Step five. Now the grid pays plants to stand by for you. That's called capacity. Watch the price climb: twenty-nine dollars, then three twenty-five— sixteen billion a year, every time. Step six. The watchdog did the math and put it on a slide: of that sixteen billion, six point three came from data centers. Public. Signed. There for anyone to see. Step seven. Then cancel your plans, or push them away. The watchdog says forty-two percent did. The price was set for buildings never there— the bill stayed put. The buildings slid. Step eight. Need more? Go nuclear. Why not try? Microsoft signed twenty years at Three Mile Island. Amazon tried to plug in next door. Regulators said no. So they went through the grid instead. Bigger deal. Same land. Step nine. Try Ireland. It's green, and the climate is cool. Data centers use almost a quarter of the power. New rule: bring your own electricity. Frankfurt's full too— no big new hookups till the mid-2030s for you. Step ten. Make states write laws with your name in mind. Texas, Oklahoma, Florida, Oregon—they signed. In Oregon, homes now pay one point three percent less, data centers twenty-nine percent more. What a success! Step eleven. Tell everyone: relax, the bills are fine. And so far, studies say, the change is small. So far. Because the big money takes time to reach the mail and hit us all. Step twelve. Mark two dates in red on the wall: June 2026. June 2027. That's all. That's when these auction costs reach home bills— Maryland's consumer office wrote it down for all. Step thirteen. The last step is easy. There's nothing to do. Put the bill in an envelope, neat and true... and send it straight to — YOU. Remember those forty cases, the doors shut tight? The empty chair at every hearing is yours tonight.