The Straw Across the County Line

There's a famous movie scene where a man explains, with a glint in his eye, how a long straw can stretch clear across a property line and quietly drink up what lies beneath his neighbor's land. He didn't have to own your land to drain it. He only had to reach.

I've been thinking about that scene a lot lately, because something like it is taking shape one county to our east.

In DeSoto County, developers are fast-tracking what they say could become one of the largest data centers in the country. It began as a 34-acre rezoning on the site of an old power plant near Arcadia. It has since grown toward 800 acres, with talk of more than 1,300 — powered by natural-gas turbines capable of generating up to four gigawatts of electricity, enough to sustain millions of homes, on land that used to grow citrus and raise cattle.

Here's why that should matter to every family in Sarasota County: DeSoto isn't Sarasota, but we drink from the same straw.

Nearly half of Sarasota County's drinking water comes from the Peace River, delivered through a regional authority that serves Sarasota, DeSoto, Charlotte, and Manatee counties from one shared source. Most of the rest comes from our own wells at the T. Mabry Carlton Reserve. The Peace River doesn't check a county map before it flows. What happens upstream in DeSoto — to the quantity of that water, or its quality — flows downstream to our taps.

So when a project of this scale lands in the Peace River's watershed, "that's DeSoto's decision" is not an answer that protects Sarasota families. The developers insist water isn't a concern. Maybe they're right. But "trust us" is not a water policy, and it is not one I'm willing to stake our drinking water on.

As of July 1, a new Florida law confirms that local governments keep the authority to regulate data centers within their own borders — and even limits the water permits these facilities can pull. That's a good step. But it has a blind spot: it stops at the county line. DeSoto decides what gets built in DeSoto. Sarasota decides what gets built in Sarasota. Neither is required to ask what a decision on one side of the line does to the families on the other — even when we share the same river, the same aquifer, the same straw.

That blind spot is exactly what I intend to close.

If you elect me to the County Commission, I will push to convene a regional large-load infrastructure task force — Sarasota, DeSoto, Manatee, and Charlotte counties, the Peace River Authority, the Southwest Florida Water Management District, our utilities, and independent scientists — to do the one thing no one is doing now: weigh the cumulative impact of these enormous projects on our shared water, power, and environment before they're approved, not after.

This is not about telling DeSoto what to do with its land. It can't, and it shouldn't. It's about Sarasota finally having a seat at the table when a decision next door reaches across the line and into our water supply. It's about transparency — public review of projected water withdrawals, wastewater, and energy demand. And it's about insisting on real safeguards — reclaimed water, efficient cooling — instead of finding out the hard way.

I spent fifteen years in the Army managing logistics, and a career as a prosecutor and trial attorney asking hard questions before signing off on anything. Both taught me the same lesson: you plan for the consequences before they arrive, because by the time the damage is done, it's too late to un-sign the order.

Economic development matters. Jobs matter. But the water our children drink matters more — and it isn't a renewable campaign promise. It's a finite resource we share with the county next door.

No one should be able to sink a straw across the line and drink Sarasota's future. The least we can do is be in the room when they try.