Forty-one years ago, the “New Energy Ethanol” plant opened its doors in New Carlisle, Indiana. For some, it is a date on a calendar; for residents of St. Joseph County, it was the day the air changed. It brought a pungent nastiness—a smell you never forget if you grew up in the region and one that newcomers still struggle to define. The odor was so immediate and so severe that the company was forced to develop mitigation techniques almost from day one.
But the “stink” wasn’t just in the air; it was in the deal itself.
The Panacea of 1980
In the early 1980s, our region listened to a rhetoric of fear. We were told that agriculture and the “American way of life” would wither away without massive federal intervention. The pitch was seductive: by converting corn into a gasoline additive, we could grow our way out of Middle East conflicts and the energy crisis.
The federal government backed this dream with $45 billion in subsidies starting in 1980—subsidies that, in various forms, continue to this day. Figures like Ronald Reagan championed this as a defense of “American values.” We all remember the era’s imagery: the Western version of agricultural life, symbolized by a president chopping wood on his ranch. Not far from the famed “Music Man” town of Gary, Indiana, politicians promised that rural Americans could save their farms and bolster America by adopting the magical fuel additive of ethanol.
A Harvest of Broken Promises
Forty years later, we can see the ethanol “cure-all” for what it was. At best, it was a wash for the oil industry; at worst, it was a net loser. Factoring in production and transportation, the energy required to produce the ethanol nearly equaled the energy it was meant to save
For the people on the ground, the results were even more somber:
- The Farmers: Rather than finding “freedom,” many were forced to grow only what they were told to grow, or to let fields lie fallow to manipulate corn prices.
- The Land: Many family operations were swallowed by agrobusinesses.
- The Environment: Beyond the localized stench, the industry proved to be an environmental loser on multiple fronts.
We were sold a miracle, but we bought a tax-subsidized dependency.
The New Crossroads: Data Centers and Aquifers
Today, New Carlisle is at a familiar crossroads. The names have changed—from ethanol processors to tech giants like Amazon—but the pressure remains the same. Once again, heavy industry is attempting to dictate community needs.
We are being told, once more, that this is “progress” and that it will bring “jobs.” Yet, we are being asked to make decisions that will permanently impact our land, our regional aquifer, and our vital water sources. All of this water and water changes are incredibly close to the Continental Divide, and water-based, and the Kankakee Marshlands. These are choices that will echo for the remainder of our time on this land, yet they are being pushed through without adequate time for independent research or comprehensive government studies.
History’s Echo
Down-state Politicians and business interests are again making promises about a future they cannot guarantee. The people pushing these decisions from Indianapolis and at the federal level do not have to live with the consequences, nor do their children. They are writing tax-subsidized checks for watersheds they do not fully understand.History suggests that when a “panacea” is offered with such urgency and so little transparency, the community ends up paying the price. We still remember the smell of the ethanol plant and should recognize that the data centers are more of the same, except this time, the rising temperatures in the region, the environmental degradation, and costs are all part of the great stench blowing our way on strong winds from Silicon Valley, Washington D.C., and even Indianapolis. Stop the pumping of water for Amazon and help stop the stink.
