The episode of The Gravity Well podcast features Jessica Chung from the Council of Canadians, focusing on AI data centres, their environmental and social impacts, and emerging cross‑Canada resistance movements.
Jessica introduces herself as a water and climate campaigner, formerly a Line 5 pipeline organizer with Sierra Club Canada, living in Guelph with her family. She shares a story about activist Kim Bradshaw lending her a car so Kim could travel by train to glue her hands to an airport tarmac in an anti–big oil action, illustrating “community in action.”
Jessica describes her unusual path into activism: she left law school after being diagnosed with fibromyalgia, then became a yoga teacher, which shaped her ability to “hold space” in movements. This conversation came after I watched a pro‑pipeline “Build Ontario Strong” ad promoting gas for AI infrastructure and wanted an Ontario perspective. Jessica recounts a recent two‑day Civil Society Summit on the AI industry, with 270 attendees and panels on Indigenous data sovereignty, environmental harms, gender‑based violence, labour, war, food systems, corporate accountability, and AI in media and arts. She stresses the summit was not about shaming everyday AI use (like email summarization) but about how AI is being used as a “front person” for oil and gas, justifying continued fossil fuel expansion under nationalist competition narratives.
Jessica frames AI as a neutral tool—like a hammer—whose impact depends on who controls it, what rules exist, and how power is exercised. I echo this, arguing AI can be used for “pro‑social” purposes such as organising toward a water‑centred economy, minimizing energy use, and keeping systems local rather than controlled by foreign entities. I link AI expansion to abandonment of international law and corporate accountability, warning of ecological collapse and citing examples of water contamination and freshwater loss in places like Texas and Louisiana.
Jessica explains that civil society is trying to reclaim the AI narrative from “tech bros” who have captured political attention, and to invite everyday people into the conversation. She notes that youth, highly adept with digital tools, are at the forefront of resisting AI data centres and can mobilise quickly even within short public‑input windows and confirms summit recordings are available at AICivilsociety.ca. I highlight @Alberta_Anti_AI, an Instagram group with over 3,000 members in under a month, and describes coordinated rallies in Alberta and Ontario, including a Unity rally and anti‑AI rally in Calgary, and a previous provincial‑wide day of action with thousands in Edmonton, Calgary, and [21] other locations. Check out @Solstice’s video from the main event in Calgary here.
Jessica cites Hamilton and Burks Falls (Ontario) as recent examples of local resistance, noting that some victories—like projects stopped before shovels hit the ground—are under‑reported but real. In Burks Falls, two 20‑year‑old women organized opposition that led the city to take a data centre proposal off the table. She emphasizes that activism often slows rather than fully stops projects, buying time for alternative paths to emerge. I agree, it’s a David‑and‑Goliath struggle where our wins are measured in delays and vigilance.
I describe Alberta communities organizing against massive data centres, including one 1.4‑gigawatt project (equivalent to 1.4 million homes’ energy use) that drew over 1,100 statements of concern. I criticize incomplete accounting that ignores upstream gas extraction and frac’ing, pointing out that water used in fracking is permanently lost. She mentions strong pushback in Grande Prairie and multiple sites near Calgary, with communities sharing strategies and resources like the airesistlist.org website.
Jessica tells me municipalities are key battlegrounds because AI data centres intersect with zoning, real estate, and venture capital. She describes efforts to support youth organizers who want June 27 to become a national day of action, prompted by BC Greens leader Emily Lowen. With only 16 days’ lead time, they are building a decentralized toolkit tailored to the Canadian context and engaging about 200 people across sectors to define what civil society should be in this moment. She argues AI threatens the entire political spectrum and cites Mark Carney’s “AI for All” strategy as essentially focused on ensuring adoption, not democratic consent.
I underscore AI is unifying issue across left and right, tied to water, surveillance, safety, jobs, and environmental destruction. I cite the Wonder Valley project, which she says would be the largest heat source in the world, and name large AI data centres “gas guzzling” and resource‑wasting infrastructure serving billionaires, contrasting them with low‑power, everyday AI uses. Jessica clarifies that “AI” is often used as a monolithic term, but the real empire project is the race toward AGI—machines outperforming humans on all tasks—requiring massive power to scrape the entire internet. She notes AI can also be small‑scale and community‑oriented, such as tools for preserving local languages. However, she argues current dominant uses deepen social inequity rather than reduce it.
I give a concrete example of AI‑enabled monetization: vehicles from 2026 onward reportedly requiring subscriptions for features like heated seats and full radio use, effectively taxing people’s own property and widening divides. I support national coordination and cites Taiwan’s Audrey Tang using digital tools to achieve 90% public support for policies before voting, as well as the town of Olds exploring people‑driven economic planning instead of elite committees. I link AI data centres to centralized power generation, arguing that renewables’ strength lies in decentralization and security, especially as wars make large {oil and gas] facilities, including AI centres, potential military targets.
Jessica reflects on a broader shift from “power over” to “power with,” calling solidarity a “miracle” given humanity’s long, often violent history. She notes that people now show solidarity beyond shared language or appearance, citing global concern for Gaza as an example. She argues big‑tent movements should not require full consensus and asks how much agreement is really needed to work together, given our survival is intertwined. She references Maud Barlow’s warning that within about 10 years there could be a 40% global water shortfall, stressing the urgency as billionaires continue extracting both resources and power. She highlights that many US AI data‑centre fights are led by everyday people—barbers, teenagers, young adults—and frames this as a moment where “the box has crumbled,” asking who we want to be.
I agree that anyone who cares can participate and recounts narratives that divide provinces: Alberta stereotypes about Ontario’s “Laurentian elites” and Ontarians allegedly seeing Albertans as backward “bow hunks” needing outside guidance. I warn these stories hinder cooperation even as shared threats like AI data centres and looming “water bankruptcy” (citing UN water expert Bob Sandford’s work) demand unity and ecological restoration. I ask Jessica how these narratives look from Ontario.
Jessica says her view of other provinces is primarily relational, shaped by people she’s worked with rather than media narratives, and she feels “unplugged” from many ads and stereotypes because she doesn’t watch organized sports. She acknowledges that separatist movements and social media algorithms fuel judging and generalizing about entire provinces. She stresses that relational work is “everything” because elites benefit when people are easily controlled by pre‑packaged narratives. She cites reports that first‑year university students struggle to finish full papers due to social media’s impact on attention, warning this undermines future capacity to read complex bills or arguments. She argues that change will come less from perfect arguments and more from thousands of people building relationships and community resilience as crises—especially in the Global South—intensify. She frames “divide and conquer” as a deliberate strategy of those in power and calls for stretching our capacity to see each other freshly, beyond conditioning.
I point to Gaza as both horrifying and inspiring, noting that people there have not turned on each other despite extreme conditions. I see this as a lesson in solidarity. I recall a Chinese government representative describing an “inevitability of peace,” which she finds a hopeful framing for this transition from power over to power with. I believe stopping further system deterioration would itself be a remarkable achievement and feel encouraged by emerging resistance.
In closing, Jessica emphasizes that activism is deeply personal and often happens in quiet, internal moments: noticing when we react to flattening narratives, asking who benefits if we believe them, and cultivating a habit of reflection. She calls this “life finding its own intelligence” and stresses that activism is not only public action but also slowing down with ourselves, questioning anger and manipulation before acting. I connect this to spiritual practice and “micro moments” of discernment—asking who is speaking, for whose benefit, and whether a message is truly for us—suggesting such practices are becoming more common.
