Tuesday, August 12, was another 3-plus hour Plan Commission hearing. Akin to the one in March, the meeting revisited a revised, improved proposal from Copper Box to bring a solar farm to Montgomery County. It’s hard not to think about, but not want to ask, how our elected officials approached the meeting. It puts them in a unique position, one which everyone who testified was kind regarding. They are elected, so they are, at least some of the time, politicians, but that word comes loaded with meanings we attached to the dictionary definition. Most of the time, I suspect local elected officials prefer to think of themselves as leaders. They are making the best decision they can with the information they have.
Our county and local officials may not always want to be seen as politicians, a role in which they must be highly conscious of representing the people. In this role they must be informed by the people, which may make them hyper-aware that if they make decisions contrary to the majority of voters, they may lose the next election.
But a good leader knows that following the will of the crowd can betray the full scope of leadership responsibilities. Most of leadership is mundane. Now that the county puts most of its meetings on YouTube, one can witness how much of local administration and business generates almost no public interest. Elected officials attend meetings, listen to department reports, deal with budgets and roads and public services, and make the steady, routine decisions required to keep a community functioning.
But when an issue brings out strong interest and real division, they shift back into politician mode. They have to listen to constituents. They have to take seriously the opinions of the people who live here now. And they have to consider what our community has been, what it is today and what it may need to become to grow.
That is not an easy balance.
We are, and the citizens want to remain, an agricultural and rural community. It is part of our history, our landscape and our understanding of our heritage and legacy. But the question before us is not simply whether we preserve the past exactly as it is. The question is how we retain the right amount of what has made this place valuable while still allowing ourselves to move forward.
Change is difficult—one citizen, Karen Thada, noted in her statement—especially when it comes quickly or seems to be imposed from somewhere else. We see that feeling in the public response to artificial intelligence, data centers and other technologies that appear to arrive with demands attached: use more power, use more water, adapt your work, accept that this is the future. Skepticism is warranted when they cannot see a clear benefit for themselves or their community. An enhanced Google search, Gemini offering to write your email for you, using ChatGPT for a recipe—we can all live without those, if it drives up the competition for and price of energy or accessibility of clean water.
While solar can evoke some of that same reaction, it’s an apples-to-green-beans comparison. Solar energy has been a driver in keeping electricity prices from skyrocketing. And, data point after data point, testimony from other rural communities and agricultural regions, all of it speaks to a better return on investment when it comes to prices and farmers' ability to keep their soil both healthy and profitable.
Energy demand is not likely to decrease. People are not cutting back on air conditioning. They aren’t setting their washers to run overnight when demand is low. They aren’t hanging their laundry out to dry. They aren’t driving less. They continue to use the internet via phones and computers to order pizzas, groceries, packages. They game. They stream their entertainment. In fact, temperatures and humidity are rising, increasing demand for air conditioning. We aren’t even buying fewer new things. Manufacturing, agriculture, computing and household life all require electricity. Communities that want to retain businesses, attract businesses and remain economically healthy will need access to reliable and affordable power.
At the Aug. 12 hearing, people raised concerns. In good faith, these should be heard. They asked whether panels could catch fire, whether materials could leach into the soil, whether local fire response would arrive quickly enough or know how to manage a solar-related fire. They questioned whether solar sites will truly rest the soil, support pollinators, create unwanted sound or become the first step toward losing the agricultural character of our community.
These worries express real love for this place and real concern for its future.
But leaders, when they are in politician mode, must do more than tally fears. They must discern what those fears mean, weigh them against evidence and distinguish between what is possible and what is probable.
No process comes with a guarantee that nothing can ever go wrong. We cannot guarantee a tractor will never catch fire, that no one will drown in a grain bin, or that moisture won’t rot what’s stored in it. Absolute perfection is an impossible standard that freezes decision-making and prevents growth. And humans are made to grow. We have children, we take new jobs, we start and maintain businesses for growth. Raising too many “what-ifs” is a recipe for decision-fatigue and stalling. Humans know this and make reasonable decisions. What is the probability? What does the data tell me and can it be extrapolated, reasonably, to my decision, so that I can evaluate the likelihood of harm, require safeguards and determine whether the risks are manageable.
That is the proper frame for this discussion, too.
A long list of hypothetical “what ifs” can create the feeling that danger is everywhere and that the safest choice is simply to do nothing. But that will freeze Montgomery County in place, even as our kids grow up thinking about the future—shout out to the two young teens, Luka and Levi Fowler, who testified at the hearing. We risk losing young, talented people if the community freezes in place. Businesses seeking clean, plentiful energy will choose other counties. Shifting the standard from reasonable safety to a demand for 100% certainty is something no energy source, business, farm or public system can meet.
Our leaders are holding the tension, asking what evidence do we have from the past about what residents want to our county to retain in nature and values? What change will allow growth and still maintain our heritage into our future? Farmers face this every time a tractor dies. Should they repair the old machine over which they have 100% property ownership, or purchase something that contains IP (intellectual property) that its maker says its theirs? Same with those little rectangles in our pockets, which we aren’t supposed to repair ourselves, lest we void the warranty.
What does it mean when we say land must remain agricultural? Traditionally, a farmer was an agricultural businessperson who used their land to produce 1) food that went into people’s bellies in the form of meat, eggs, dairy, vegetables, fruit or grains, or 2) food that fed the food. But about 45% of locally produced corn and 25% of soybeans has nothing to do with the food chain. It goes toward producing fuel— which leaves the community, to acknowledge that concern about fuel produced locally. It looks like plants while it’s growing, but it’s put into gas tanks -- not bellies.
Farmland is part of the energy economy. The same nitrates and phosphorus fertilizers that run off into water are used. The same machines. But the outcome is more like what solar produces. A solar field harvests energy from the sun. It gives farmers a reliable source of income while allowing the soil to rest and because it will be properly managed, solar farming supports soil and habitat goals. It’s farming. It’s harvesting fuel, same as corn and soy for ethanol. without the run off. And since the demand for energy will grow (by 1.7% through the next decade alone), it’s a sound income generator that farmers are increasingly turning to.
Our elected officials are tasked with two roles—the political representation of the people now and the long tail of history and the future. The question is both populist, that is of this moment, and not.
All voices should be heard, but sound decisions aren’t made on volume or quantity of voices. Leaders have to grapple with the tradeoffs in moments like this, making decisions that at least weigh, what does the data we have now say to guide us to think rightly about growth and health in the future.