It’s More Than Just Stopping Data Centers and Avoiding AI

Do you remember being a kid and listening to the radio on the school bus? It’s a crisp, fall morning; you’re in your jacket and maybe some gloves—a Pop-Tart (or your mom’s last Slim Fast) in your belly. All the while, a hollowed out, giant tube of metal whizzes down back country roads, blaring some local morning show with Dweebie and the Twits (or whoever they were in your town).

One such morning in my childhood, I heard about a cabinet factory in a neighboring town. The workers had shown up the previous morning to a note on the front door.

The factory was closed.

Gone. Done. Left for greener pastures.

Without warning, a few dozen people were out of work. A few dozen families were without at least one of their incomes—for some, probably their entire household income.

I don’t remember the name of the company. I don’t even remember what town the factory was in.

What I remember is how I didn’t understand it.

How could a company just shut down overnight? Open one day and closed the next?

How could all those people be jobless? With no warning?

Certainly, I thought, something will be done to help them. Right? Someone has to…do something.

But it was real. And there was no economic savior coming to swoop in and gift them severance or any kind of financial help. The factory, without warning, closed overnight, moved its operations to a different town—a different state—and no one was coming to save these people. They were screwed.

Everyone has a moment in their lives that tilts them toward some direction in their lives. There’s a story or an event we witness that—consciously or unconsciously—pulls our interest, our desire, (and often our outrage) in some specific direction.

I believe this was one of those moments for me.

I’ve spent my entire life working with, in, and for small businesses in small communities. I love it.

But what I love most about small businesses is what they provide—jobs.

Whether we go to work as a paper-pusher at an insurance agency, fix equipment for local farmers, or serve up bagels at the local coffee shops, small businesses employ a lot of us.

I’d like to keep it that way.

Now, I’ve spent my entire career on the inside, working with the business owners to help them make strong businesses, to be better leaders, better business owners. Still, something is missing. We are losing something. We’re losing connection, familiarity. We’re losing touch with the roles we all play in our communities, in our neighborhoods. That goes for business owners and the customers who support them.

Artificial intelligence, data centers, big tech, social media…they’re all making it worse. They’re keeping us separated while taking as much money from our pockets as possible. It’s never been easier to buy from one of the big guys while avoiding our community completely.

So, I want to try something new. I want to try and make being a small business customer easier.

I want to make it top of mind.

I want to show people how one or two different buying decisions a month—or even just leaving a good review—can safeguard our local economies, protect our jobs, and start pushing out the big dawgs who come into our small towns, drain our resources, and leave us jobless with a few pennies on the nightstand when they flee for the next small town or someplace overseas.

Let’s keep our money local.

Let’s protect our neighbors’ jobs.

And Let the Damn Robots Starve.

-AT