Pennhurst Asylum, a former state-run medical institute turned haunted attraction, is now on the cusp of becoming something far more sinister: a hyperscaler's data center.
The brainchild of Derek Strine, owner of Pennhurst, is an ambitious attempt to turn 130 acres of land into a futuristic hub for artificial intelligence. The plans are met with resistance from the local community, who fear that the project will bring noise pollution and water shortages. They'd rather endure the eerie atmosphere of their beloved haunted house than be subjected to the cold, calculating gaze of Big Tech.
Strine's decision to invest in a data center, despite having no experience in the field, is driven by his insatiable pursuit of profit. He's joined by fellow investors who are eager to cash in on the lucrative market for data centers. The projected costs are staggering, with the first phase alone expected to cost $60 million.
The project has sparked concerns about the long-term viability of such ventures. According to ASG, a data center consultancy firm, nearly 90% of announced projects fail to materialize. The phrase "ghost centers" takes on a haunting new meaning in this context.
What's perhaps most unsettling is that Strine's venture embodies the very essence of unsustainable capitalism. He's chasing a speculative bubble that will inevitably burst, leaving behind a trail of debt and disappointment. As our addiction to AI continues to grow, so too does the risk of catastrophic failure.
In a bizarre twist, Pennhurst Asylum has become the perfect site for a data center β not because it lends itself to the task, but because it's an inevitable precursor to the downfall of these projects. The haunted house that once brought throngs of visitors now stands as a monument to the hubris of late-stage capitalism.
The brainchild of Derek Strine, owner of Pennhurst, is an ambitious attempt to turn 130 acres of land into a futuristic hub for artificial intelligence. The plans are met with resistance from the local community, who fear that the project will bring noise pollution and water shortages. They'd rather endure the eerie atmosphere of their beloved haunted house than be subjected to the cold, calculating gaze of Big Tech.
Strine's decision to invest in a data center, despite having no experience in the field, is driven by his insatiable pursuit of profit. He's joined by fellow investors who are eager to cash in on the lucrative market for data centers. The projected costs are staggering, with the first phase alone expected to cost $60 million.
The project has sparked concerns about the long-term viability of such ventures. According to ASG, a data center consultancy firm, nearly 90% of announced projects fail to materialize. The phrase "ghost centers" takes on a haunting new meaning in this context.
What's perhaps most unsettling is that Strine's venture embodies the very essence of unsustainable capitalism. He's chasing a speculative bubble that will inevitably burst, leaving behind a trail of debt and disappointment. As our addiction to AI continues to grow, so too does the risk of catastrophic failure.
In a bizarre twist, Pennhurst Asylum has become the perfect site for a data center β not because it lends itself to the task, but because it's an inevitable precursor to the downfall of these projects. The haunted house that once brought throngs of visitors now stands as a monument to the hubris of late-stage capitalism.