DeSoto County Data Center CEO Tackles the Water Question Locals Are Really Asking

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When a massive data center proposal lands in your backyard, the first thing neighbors want to know isn’t usually about server capacity—it’s about their own water supply. That’s exactly what happened at a recent community listening session in Arcadia, where residents voiced a concern that cuts straight to the heart of rural Florida: where’s all that cooling water going to come from?

Jon Brown, CEO of DeSoto County Industrial Park, had to confront that question head-on. The proposed facility, which would operate using infrastructure from a former 340-megawatt power plant on site, needs massive amounts of water to keep servers cool. But here’s the thing: Brown laid out a specific pecking order for where the water will come from, and groundwater—the kind that local residents like Don Beal-Viar depend on through private wells—sits dead last on the list.

The priority system Brown outlined starts with reclaimed water from the city’s sewage treatment plant, moves to water collected on the campus itself, and only then falls back to groundwater as what he called the final backstop. It’s a reasonable approach on paper, though the reclaimed water agreement with the City of Arcadia is still in the planning stages. He also pointed to newer cooling technology—closed-loop recirculating systems similar to car engines—that dramatically reduce water consumption compared to older evaporative cooling methods.

What’s worth noting is the timing of Brown’s water strategy. This summer, Governor Ron DeSantis signed regulations requiring AI data centers to cover their own utility costs so ratepayers don’t take the hit. Brown claims the plan to operate independently was already in place, and his pitch to stay off the main power grid by reusing the old plant’s infrastructure gives that claim some credibility. But the water piece still requires coordination with the city and careful monitoring of local supplies.

Brown says he welcomes the tough questions—even from skeptics. Construction, if approved, would take 14 to 18 months, with Phase One creating 25 jobs and room to expand to six phases eventually. For a rural county weighing economic opportunity against environmental caution, the water answer matters as much as any promised jobs number. The question now is whether local residents believe Brown’s layered approach will actually protect their wells when the facility comes online.