Sixty-one percent is a striking number, but the more revealing finding sits beside it: neither party seems to have an edge. On an issue that touches land, power grids, and neighborhoods, the discomfort is not a position anyone is campaigning to win. It runs somewhere beneath our usual alignments — which suggests people are not so much opposing a policy as sensing that something is being built faster than anyone can weigh what it takes.
That sensing is worth taking seriously, and so is its limit. A poll measures sentiment, not the merits of data center construction; broad opposition does not prove the technology is harmful, any more than enthusiasm would prove it is good. The honest reading of these numbers is that 1,503 likely voters share an instinct but not an understanding — and instinct alone is a thin foundation for decisions about what gets built where.
Here the verse makes a claim that cuts against both the boosters and the skeptics. Wisdom, it says, is not generated by taking the right side of a poll or by having the sharpest reaction to a headline. It is granted — it comes from outside us, from the mouth of the Lord. In a debate where nearly everyone has an opinion and few have understanding, that is an inversion of how we usually proceed. We tend to form a position first and seek justification after. The verse invites the reverse: admit how little we know, and ask for discernment before we plant a flag.
That is not a counsel of passivity. Communities still must weigh real costs and real benefits, and leaders still must decide. But we can hold our quick judgments loosely long enough to learn what a data center would demand of a town — its water, its electricity, its land. Before forming a firm view on a technology most of us barely understand, perhaps the first move is a quiet one: ask God for the understanding we do not naturally have, and let that question slow us down before the instinct hardens into a verdict.