‘These are some of the most complex structures ever created’: how tech reporting moved into the physical world

. UK edition

A large number of datacentre projects around the world are being challenged or cancelled
A large number of datacentre projects around the world are being challenged or cancelled. Composite: Guardian Design/Reuters

The Guardian’s global tech reporting team are investigating the impact of the vast datacentres being built to power the AI revolution. We spoke to them about how their beat has become increasingly offline

Journalists often use the term “shoe-leather reporting” to refer to the on-the-ground legwork that goes into covering certain stories. As the tech industry’s focus has shifted from screen-based realities to the physical world of colossal AI datacentres and social media harms, comfortable footwear has become more essential to a tech reporter’s job.

Earlier this week, we published the Guardian’s latest investigation into the datacentres and energy infrastructures that underpin AI – revealing that an £8.2bn AI complex in rural Scotland has misrepresented its plans to be powered entirely by on-site renewables. “Our reporting is showing that you can’t simply wave a magic wand and have a datacentre appear,” says Aisha Down, who covers AI for the Guardian and went to Scotland to investigate the story. “There are a lot of huge physical constraints and reality checks. These physical, tangible things are what makes or sinks the AI boom.”

Much of this reporting involves interrogating the reality of all this tangible stuff – whether or not the infrastructure proposals by tech giants are realistic, whether the datacentres themselves are feasible, whether the energy and water commitments are genuine, whether the promised job creation is real and, above all, what it means for real-life, actual people.

The datacentre investigation published this week illustrates the growing intersection of tech reporting with energy and environment stories. It involved Aisha trekking around Lanarkshire to sites where datacentres and energy infrastructure might be built, talking with local residents, examining public records and obtaining internal documents. It followed a similar investigation earlier this year in which she checked out a four-acre site on the outskirts of London that is due to house a gleaming AI supercomputer complex – only to find that it was still being used as a scaffolding yard.

And, yes, both stories involved a lot of “shoe-leather reporting” – although, technically, Aisha wasn’t wearing leather-soled shoes: “I wear very light flats with rubber soles and a band that makes them good for walking in. In Lanarkshire, I wore sneakers.”

Dan Milmo, our global technology editor (who generally wears rubber-soled chukka boots), published an article about the number of large datacentre projects around the world that are being challenged or cancelled. “I remember going out to a site in Wales that was about as well-organised and well-funded as you can get, and I still got a sense of how difficult it is for tech companies to pull off these big infrastructure projects,” he says.

The physical reality checks on AI include the capacity of local electricity grids, the availability of chips and other components, as well as the impact on tech companies’ carbon footprints and sustainability goals. “The AI boom has radically changed the physical presence of all of these tech companies in the physical world,” says Blake Montgomery, the Guardian’s US tech editor (who does wear a pair of leather-soled shoes). “These AI datacentres are some of the most massive and complex structures that humanity has created. So we’re now also reporting on physical infrastructure and real places that exist, not just the digital landscapes in the more social media-focused era of tech reporting.”

The sheer scale of these developments is just one aspect of the physicality facing tech journalists today. Another is the sensory assault. Last month, Aisha visited Slough, home of the largest datacentre park in Europe, to experience the sweltering heat-island effect – with some research suggesting that temperatures in the immediate vicinity of datacentres can increase by an average of 2C, and as much as 9C. “It was baking hot and there was this audible whine. If you were sleeping or working nearby everyday, I think it’d wear you down.”

Robert Booth, our UK technology editor, experienced even louder volumes when reporting on mammoth datacentres in Santa Clara in Silicon Valley. “They call those datacentres screamers because they’re louder than an aircraft taking off,” he says. “I had to pack my ears with protection and, even with that, I was still left with ringing ears.”

He says shoe-leather reporting is essential for covering the AI revolution. “It’s only really possible by getting out and reporting on the pace of change, the tensions it creates, how it impacts people. I’ve also gone to kids’ clubs to see how children are grappling with AI. It’s a really important part of the job to make sure we’re reporting from somewhere rather than from the digital ether,” he says. “But, no, I haven’t needed to alter my footwear.”

Blake recalls sending tech reporter Dara Kerr to the Nevada desert, home of one of the biggest datacentre complexes in the world, for this visually stunning feature about their impact. “She basically got chased away by security,” he says. (It’s unknown what footwear Dara was wearing at the time.)

Local tensions and backlashes against datacentres are a big part of today’s tech story. Last week, we published an interview with Erin Brockovich about her work helping the many communities affected by the impact of datacentres on energy and water resources.

“Protests against datacentres are becoming a kind of manifestation of voter and public concern about tech and AI in general,” says Dan. “It’s very difficult for people to protest against technology or to make tangible their feelings about things that are transmitted over the internet. But while it’s hard to protest against ChatGPT and what it means for your undergraduate kids’ employment prospects, it’s easier to protest against the infrastructure that facilitates its existence and how that infrastructure functions.”

Dan notes that these real-world flashpoints are part of a bigger shift in the tech landscape. “When I started covering this industry in 2021, it was clear that these giant companies had so much money that they were just going to get bigger and more powerful and that the real-life impacts would simply grow. And inevitably my reporting has increasingly become about those impacts and the consequences of governments allowing these companies to grow without regulation.”

He points to key turning points such as the inquest into the death of Molly Russell, a London teenager who died from an act of self-harm in 2017 after the darker side of online life overwhelmed her. In the US, tech reporters have also been attending courtroom hearings about social media’s physical and emotional harms, with further cases on the horizon about the platforms’ addictiveness. Meanwhile, the UK has announced a ban on social media for under-16s, following a ban introduced in Australia last year.

Last month, Dan went to west London to interview children and teenagers about the UK’s under-16 social media ban. “I was struck by how I hadn’t heard enough of those voices, and I personally hadn’t written enough about what these children think and how important their perspective was,” he says.

It’s a long way from the early days of social media, when many tech reporters were tasked with scrolling through their screens and downloading apps to spot the latest social media trend or internet buzz.

“Perhaps because unreality has become so pervasive, reality has become a lot more interesting to people,” Aisha suggests. “Did a child harm themselves because of their social media feed? How hot is it next to a datacentre? People are now more interested in those kinds of stories.”