The popular uprising against data centers has emerged so suddenly that politicians stumble over their own pitchforks racing to the front of the crowd. Where most industries would be launching into crisis P.R. mode, perhaps even engaging in some soul-searching, artificial intelligence companies seem determined to plow full steam ahead, building the future they want, even if they're the only ones who want it. The outrage over data centers can't really be about environmental impact. These structures have always been water-sucking, power-draining, forest-clearing eyesores, yet the recent plunge in support for them is three times as deep as the one that nuclear power plants faced in the year after Three Mile Island. What has changed is people's awareness of what's going on inside: artificial intelligence. Less than a quarter of Americans expect A.I. to have a positive impact on K-12 education, arts and entertainment, how people do their jobs, the economy, personal relationships or happiness over the next 20 years.

Once known for our optimism and ambition in pursuit of new frontiers, Americans no longer trust that technological progress will make life better. For the past two decades, Silicon Valley's leaders have treated their fellow citizens like caged guinea pigs, bombarding us with inappropriate and culturally corrosive content, turning a blind eye to social dysfunction and outright addiction, flooding schools with technology that hooked young users but did little for education and then sheltering their own children from the products that they marketed to ours.

In a noteworthy articulation of that mind-set last month, President Trump fumed on social media that "If we kill the Golden Goose, you will only have yourselves to blame" and that the only reason to oppose data centers is if you "want to end up being backwards and poor." The industry and its political allies cannot hope to just brazen through, flattening whatever opposition they hit. The A.I. companies may seem all-powerful, but they need the nation's support to transform both physical and economic landscapes in accordance with their plans.

The disaster can still be avoided if San Francisco and Washington accept that rapid technological progress, especially in a democracy, can't succeed without the public's full belief that it will benefit. To some extent, the A.I. companies can correct course on their own, curtailing harmful uses of their models and building the kinds of real-world applications — for families navigating health crises, for contractors renovating houses — that will improve people's lives.