When is a sound a noise? When does a scent become a stench? When does a caress become an irritation?
If beauty is in the eye of the beholder, then certainly so is the question of whether of our human senses are being tickled or assaulted.
What is music to one’s ears, for example, can be torture to another’s, depending on circumstances. Enjoy classical music? Your inner Beethoven might be offended by the fact the Los Angeles Metro last spring began broadcasting a classical playlist inside one of its stations. Why? Studies suggested those tunes kept people — from the homeless to others intent on criminal behaviors — from loitering in the station.
For an apartment dweller who loves rock and roll, the sounds of Pink Floyd may be a welcome diversion while cooking dinner. The exact same song a week later, blasted by a neighbor next door, might leave you feeling uncomfortably numb.
Many of us understand little about cryptocurrency other than it being a computer-reliant form of exchange. No dollar bills or Euros or Yens to hold in one’s hands. Rather, it’s a form of digital currency created and tracked by computers capable of massive calculations and encryption.
If cryptocurrencies, such as Bitcoin, exist only in digital form, how is it they’re creating a stir because of all the noise they generate?
Across Arkansas, counties are passing ordinances that attempt to set a limit on how much noise data mining centers can produce. These centers have become the virtual gold mines of the computer age — capable of creating high-value digital currency via massive computer power that consumes large amounts of electricity. Part of that process requires intense cooling of computers. Put all that together in one place and it’s not just currency being created.
One public official said these facilities make “noise like a million bees” 24 hours a day, every day. For anyone living nearby, that can sting. Arkansas already has enough bee hives and hornets nests.
Our state lawmakers, too often convinced only they have the judgment necessary for government regulation, have turned concerns about data mining centers into a full-scale rush in many of the state’s 75 counties. The Legislature last spring passed Act 851, the Arkansas Data Centers Act of 2023, which takes affect Aug. 1. The act specifically restricts local governments’ capacity to regulate or “discriminate against” such data mining centers.
Considering it’s usually mayors, county judges, city council members and justices of the peace who get the phone calls when a company becomes a disturber of everyone else’s peace, it’s mighty bold of state lawmakers to give the cryptocurrency industry protection while denying it to the citizens who elected them.
State Sen. Bryan King of Green Forest just the other day proposed lawmakers should have a special session to repeal Act 851. The Association of Arkansas Counties has sent every quorum court in the state a model ordinance meant to potentially preserve some county powers if the ordinances are passed before the act takes effect Aug. 1, which is Tuesday.
King said some counties have been “blindsided” by digital asset mining companies, which can prove lucrative. An advocate for the industry has said the act was intended to start a conversation about appropriate regulations, but that’s questionable. How can a conversation start when the industry has already protected itself from local regulations? State lawmakers thwarted the potential for local considerations, essentially inserting themselves between local residents and their most accessible elected officials — city and county leaders.
The Legislature stacked the deck in favor of the industry and against Arkansans before most of the state’s residents really even knew how these data mining centers could adversely affect their communities. It’s no wonder a lot of their constituents simply aren’t digging it.
Whats the point?
A act approved by state lawmakers provides protection for the cryptocurrency industry by limiting local governments capacity to respond to citizen concerns.