It isn’t easy to sum up a serpentine, seven-month process in a few syllables, but J. Michael Spencer made it sound effortless.

“The burden switches,” the president of Bethlehem-based JMS Acoustics LLC warned Archbald Borough Council at Monday’s installment of the marathon conditional use hearing for the proposed Wildcat Ridge Data Center Campus.

Once a project of such staggering size and socioeconomic impact is up and running, exerting any local control or accountability over its operation is practically impossible, Spencer cautioned. Once opened, some doors can never be closed.

Spencer’s testimony served as the second sound thrashing of Brooklyn-based Cornell Reality Management LLC’s sorry argument for the project in the past two weeks. On the previous Monday, an environmental health scientist and biostatistician hired by the grassroots group Stop Archbald Data Centers sounded the alarm on the science-supported public health risks posed by pollution spewing from the project’s 588 diesel “backup” generators.

The borough’s hired acoustician (it’s a real profession), Spencer delivered thorough, unambiguous testimony that confirmed the absurd inadequacy of an obviously shoddy “sound study” presented by the Wildcat Ridge team in May.

Alleged expert Caitlin Ormsbee testified at the May hearing that the noise generated by 14 data centers, 840 rooftop chillers, 168 pieces of HVAC equipment and 588 diesel generators could be quieter than a neighbor’s lawnmower, a household refrigerator or a conversation across backyards.

I am still not making that up.

The crowd, of course, rejected Ormsbee’s hollow, insulting assertion. Under cross-examination, Stop Archbald Data Centers’ attorney Justin Richards and group co-founder Tamara Mickevicz-Healey easily eviscerated Ormsbee’s empty testimony.

Spencer’s testimony buried the desiccated remains.

“We’re talking about an increase in sound levels that, in my professional opinion, is unreasonable for the residents,” he said. “I cannot think of one scenario in my entire 30-year career of consulting where I had that kind of a level of (noise) increase on a project.”

Much of that noise — along with toxic emissions proven to cause heart, lung and other diseases — would be catalyzed by a fleet of nearly 600 school bus-sized diesel generators. Ormsbee soft-pedaled the generators’ noise impacts, but Spencer’s testimony validated the commonsense skepticism of residents who jeered at her testimony in May.

“I will say, in my career, that (588) is more backup generators than I have ever seen co-located on one site,” he said. “Overall, this particular application on this particular site has much more of a significant impact on the residents than I would expect from a typical data center application.”

This is no typical data center application (if there is such a thing). It’s a poorly rendered request for local officials and the people they swore oaths to serve to take on a generational burden that no promised benefits could ever lighten, let alone reward. The Wildcat Ridge application is an invitation to self-ruin written in red crayon.

During his cursory cross-examination of Spencer, Wildcat Ridge attorney Edmund Campbell asked whether the acoustician was aware of a provision in the borough’s zoning overlays for data centers that authorizes local officials to revoke a facility’s operating permit if (when) it proves to be a chronic blight on the borough.

Spencer was aware of the provision, and unimpressed. He predictably questioned whether such a provision is legal under the state’s Municipal Planning Code (MPC).

“I see lots of ordinances that have provisions that are not allowed by the MPC,” he said. “I am not aware whether you can pull somebody’s permit once they have been granted a permit under the MPC.”

The provision probably sounded swell to some former council members, something they could point to as proof of the data center developers’ commitment to benefiting Archbald and council’s power to step in if (when) the new neighbors step out of line.

As Spencer pointed out, such a stipulation is worthless if the borough lacks the authority to enforce it. The MPC is the supreme law of land use in Pennsylvania. Under it, the borough could fine the data center operator $500 a day. The billionaires behind these concrete behemoths spend more than that on breakfast.

Once a permit is issued, the burden of proof of noncompliance switches to the borough. Anyone who believes the courts would allow a handful of municipal officials to shut down a $2.1 billion project once it’s been built and brought online is most likely a former member of Archbald Borough Council.

The Wildcat Ridge team had seven months to meet the burden of presenting a convincing case for approval of the project. They failed spectacularly. Instead, the developers’ representatives made an ironclad case for rejection. That’s the decision they earned.

Once opened, some doors can’t be closed. The burden of this benighted project is simply too much for the people of Archbald and their neighboring communities to bear. At the next hearing on Aug. 4, council should shut the door on it once and for all.

CHRIS KELLY, the Times-Tribune columnist, tries not to be a burden. Contact the writer: ckelly@scrantontimes.com; @cjkink on X; Chris Kelly, The Times-Tribune on Facebook; and @chriskellyink on Bluesky.