The future should not be powered by sacrificing the very resources that sustain the present.

Before we ask how intelligent our technology can become, perhaps we should first ask whether the lifeblood sustaining it will still be there tomorrow. Every dry season, I have felt the scorching heat as my throat longs for a glass of iced water. What was once a simple habit after meals becomes something I hesitate to pour, reminding me that water is rarely noticed until its absence interrupts our routine. That realization invites a deeper question: What could be the potential environmental and resource impacts of establishing these large-scale data centers on the lives of ordinary Filipinos?

Innovation seems like a breath of fresh air. Initially, I saw AI as proof that technology had finally learned to think alongside us, but somewhere between typing prompts and asking AI for answers, I began wondering about a question that never once crossed my mind before: what keeps intelligence like this alive? I am still impressed by how articulate and comprehensive AI can be. What unsettles me the most is not the existence of AI itself, but how easily we celebrate technological milestones while treating natural resources as though they were unlimited. We marvel at what machines can accomplish, yet we often forget the quiet systems that have sustained humanity long before algorithms ever existed.

Curiosity led me to look beyond the screen—and what I discovered is surprisingly eye-opening. Technologically, AI is heavily reliant on data centers—the brain behind modern computing. Yet like any brain, it cannot function without a body to sustain it. Water serves as the bloodstream of these facilities, regulating their temperature for continuous operation. However, in a country where water shortages have become a pressing concern, particularly in Metro Manila, the rapid expansion of large-scale AI infrastructure, like Pax Silica, compels us to question whether innovation is truly sustainable when it competes for one of our most essential resources. Although this expansion promises economic growth, job opportunities, global competitiveness, and technological advancements, Pax Silica also poses environmental and livelihood threats that lie beneath those promises, particularly in the agricultural sector.

Agriculture has long been the heartbeat of the nation. Before microchips powered machines, our fields powered lives, feeding families and sustaining livelihoods. I could almost hear my mother's high-pitched, frustrated sermon about leaving the faucet running. As a child, I used to think it was simply about saving money. Only later did I realize that every drop wasted in one household is a drop that someone else—a farmer waking up before sunrise, longing for rainfall—can no longer take for granted. In a country where water sustains both our tables and our communities, progress should never be measured solely by the intelligence of our machines but also by the wisdom with which we safeguard the natural resources that sustain both technology and humanity.

If vegetation and agriculture are replaced by hectares of “microchips," the burden of such progress will inevitably fall on the very people who have long depended on land for survival. When food security is compromised, the consequences are not measured on statistics alone but in empty harvests and families left to bear the cost of progress.

Moreover, Pax Silica promises economic growth and thousands of employment opportunities, but an equally important question remains: Who will benefit from these jobs? If agricultural lands are converted into industrial hubs, the livelihoods of farmers may be displaced. Yet the specialized positions offered by AI and semiconductor industries often require technical expertise far removed from agricultural labor. Without adequate training, education, and livelihood transition programs, the communities most affected by development may ironically become those least able to benefit from it.

Consequently, the Philippines has repeatedly endured El Niño-induced droughts, which contribute to water resource depletion, dry reservoirs, cripple agriculture, and force Filipinos to conserve every drop. The expansion of water-dependent AI infrastructure makes us scratch our heads to redefine what responsible progress truly means. In this context, if the Philippines is already struggling and continues to battle with such drought, what more if these water-dependent AI data centers are established? El Niño is no longer just a weather bulletin announced on television. It’s like the empty water drum outside our household, or a farmer walking in a cracked rice field, and the difficult decision between watering crops today or saving enough for tomorrow. Water is not merely a resource—it is woven into the routines and livelihood of everyday life.

Perhaps the question is not whether the Philippines should embrace AI. The greater challenge is ensuring that our pursuit of innovation never distances us from the realities of those who depend on the land and water. Technology may transform industries, but it should never ask ordinary people to sacrifice the resources that sustain their daily lives.

Ultimately, AI may become the brain—the nation’s ambition and desire to compete in the age of innovation, but ambition must never outpace responsibility. As we sculpt the future, we must remember that technology is sustained not only by innovation, but by rivers that cool it, the fields that feed us, and the people whose livelihoods rely on them. Progress should ensure that communities have the means to survive. Because when progress begins to devour the very resources that sustain humanity, it ceases to be progress at all. After all, as citizens, consumers, and future professionals, we also carry the responsibility to question the technologies we embrace. Before the government welcomes innovation, perhaps it must be ensured that such development respects both the future we seek and the natural resources and livelihoods that continue to sustain it.

Because, unfortunately, when the soil dries, a farmer cannot harvest a livelihood from microchips overnight.

The Frontman