Residents often ask me, “How can we keep our kids from moving away?” Another common question I get is, “How do we attract new businesses here?” The answer to these important questions is complex, but they both unearth an underlying issue: we need more power.

The growth Idaho is experiencing is demanding more power. As of today, Idaho imports nearly 30 percent of its power from a regional power grid we share with several western states. Idaho Power is expecting a nearly 45 percent growth in peak demand over the next 20 years—that’s 1,700 megawatts of new capacity they need to find.

Here’s what makes this urgent: Idaho Power needs to add 1,000 megawatts in just the next five years. That’s nearly 50 percent more than the generational capacity of Brownlee Dam, their single largest hydropower plant. When you factor in the regulatory hurdles and years it takes to bring new power plants online, we’re looking at a real problem.

Without sufficient power, it’s hard to recruit companies that create good jobs. Without more business and industry, we struggle to provide the amenities that keep our kids from moving to Boise or Salt Lake City for opportunities they can’t find here.

Whether you’re a farmer running pivots, a parent hoping your kids can build a life here, or a business owner trying to expand, affordable and reliable power impacts all of us.

Why I’m Writing This Now

A year ago, my fellow commissioners and I passed an ordinance banning commercial wind and solar projects. We needed time to study the issue, look at what other counties experienced, and figure out how to protect what matters to us—our farmland, our scenery, our quality of life.

I’ve spent that year doing homework. I visited other counties. I read Idaho Power’s 2025 Integrated Resource Plan. I talked to farmers in Iowa who have turbines on their land. I met with our fire chief about battery safety. I looked at the numbers.

And here’s what I learned: standing still costs us more than thoughtfully moving forward.

While we’ve been debating, Wyoming and Utah have been building. They’re capturing tax revenue, creating jobs, and attracting energy-intensive businesses. Meanwhile, companies looking at Idaho are choosing other states because they can’t get reliable power commitments here.

I’m not proposing we turn Bannock County into an industrial energy park. I’m proposing we create smart ordinances that let us say “yes” to good projects and “no” to bad ones. Right now, our ban means we say “no” to everything—and that’s costing us.

What Idaho Power Actually Needs

I want to share the real numbers from Idaho Power’s long-term plan.

They’re projecting customer growth from 648,000 to 867,000 by 2045. That growth is being driven by massive projects—Meta’s data center in Kuna, Micron’s expansion in Boise, and dozens of smaller businesses that need reliable electricity.

Their solution? Add 1,445 megawatts of solar, 885 megawatts of battery storage, 700 megawatts of wind, plus converted coal plants and natural gas. These aren’t pie-in-the-sky numbers. This is their official plan filed with state regulators.

Now here’s what matters to Bannock County: those resources need to be built somewhere. Counties with ordinances in place can host them and capture the benefits. Counties with bans will watch the projects—and the money—go elsewhere.

The Agriculture Question

I’ve heard the concern loud and clear: “We don’t want to lose farmland.” I get it. Agriculture isn’t just our economy—it’s our identity.

But I need to share what I learned, because it changed my thinking.

First, no farmer is forced to do anything. Any industrial energy project would have voluntary lease agreements. Your land, your choice. Period.

Second, modern solar doesn’t have to replace farming—it works alongside it. It’s called agri-voltaics, and it’s already happening across farm states. Solar panels are mounted high enough that sheep can graze underneath. The panels provide shade that reduces water evaporation from the soil. Some farmers are reporting improved yields while earning lease income.

The numbers matter here. A farmer might earn $1,000 to $2,000 per acre annually in lease payments. That’s drought-proof income. No hail risk. No commodity price swings. I’ve heard people considering selling the family farm, but these lease payments provide steady revenue that helps keep the farm in the family.

Nationwide, farm families are earning $1.8 billion per year in lease payments from renewable projects. And here’s the thing: 96 percent of family farms depend on non-farm income to survive. This could be that income stream.

I’m not saying every farmer should do this. I’m saying we shouldn’t ban the option for the ones who want it.

What About the Money?

If you care about property taxes, school funding, or county services, these numbers should get your attention.

Worth County, Iowa, has 300 wind turbines that generate $172 million for the local economy, 17-20 percent of their county budget. Their property taxes went down. Their schools got upgrades they couldn’t have afforded otherwise. In White and Tipton Counties, Indiana, wind farms provide 10 percent of the total county budget.

Let’s bring this home: a typical utility-scale solar facility in Bannock County would generate between $300,000 and $1 million a year in property tax revenue. Unlike residential development, these facilities require almost no county services. No kids in our schools. No 911 calls. Minimal road maintenance. Just tax revenue.

Over a 25-year project life, that’s $7.5 million to $25 million for our county.

Right now, 38 percent of Bannock County working households can’t meet basic monthly expenses. We need businesses that pay living wages. Energy sector jobs in Idaho average $91,000 annually, compared to our state median of $37,000.

We already know this works locally. Our landfill Gas-to-Energy program has sold $5.7 million worth of electricity to Idaho Power since 2014. That’s from garbage gas. Imagine what purpose-built solar or wind facilities could do.

Battery Storage: Let’s Address Safety

I’ve seen the news stories about battery fires. Any honest conversation about battery storage has to address this head-on.

Battery Energy Storage Systems store electricity when we have extra and release it when we need it. Idaho Power’s plan includes 885 megawatts of battery storage because, without it, we’d be without power on cloudy or windless days.

Yes, there have been fires. The most serious was in San Diego, where 15,000 batteries burned for nearly two weeks. That’s a legitimate concern.

But here’s what else is true: modern battery systems have evolved dramatically. Current safety standards require module-level containment, automatic fire suppression, and thermal monitoring. No battery fire has ever spread beyond its facility boundaries.

For perspective: we accept gas stations, propane tanks, and natural gas pipelines throughout our communities. The 2010 San Bruno gas pipeline explosion killed eight people and obliterated a city block. We’ve learned to manage those risks through proper regulation.

Battery storage is the same concept—manageable risk through smart regulation.

That’s why we need ordinances—so we control the terms, not some state agency or utility company.

What Would These Ordinances Actually Protect?

This is the most important question.

Setbacks: Minimum 500 feet from occupied homes, 1,000 feet from schools and hospitals, with visual screening where needed.

Agricultural Protection: Projects only on voluntarily leased land, with decommissioning bonds posted upfront to guarantee site restoration after the typical 25-30 year project life.

Safety Standards: All projects must meet or exceed national fire codes, with emergency response plans filed with the county, annual inspections, and financial assurance for emergency response costs.

Local Control: Public hearings required for every project, Planning and Zoning review with neighbor notification, and county commissioners making final approval decisions with an appeal process for affected residents.

We can say “yes” to projects that meet these standards and “no” to ones that don’t. That’s not opening floodgates—that’s exercising local control.

Compare that to our current ban: we have zero control because nothing can even be proposed. When projects go to neighboring counties, we can’t negotiate anything because we’re not at the table.

What Happens If We Do Nothing?

Idaho Power will still build 1,445 MW of solar, 885 MW of batteries, and 700 MW of wind—because they have to. But those projects will go to Power County, Bingham County, or across the border to Wyoming and Utah.

Meanwhile, Bannock County will still see power costs increase. We’ll still face the reliability challenges. We’ll just do it without any of the economic benefits.

Our kids will still leave for better opportunities—opportunities in the counties that said “yes” while we said “no.”

The Path Forward

This isn’t about ideology. Idaho Power’s energy mix is already 60 percent clean energy—mostly from hydropower we’ve used for decades. Solar and wind aren’t radical—they’re the next chapter of what we’ve always done. And saying yes to solar and wind projects doesn’t mean saying no to nuclear. Rather, they help pave the way for nuclear power.

My goal isn’t to turn Bannock County into an energy hub. My goal is to make sure we have options—that our farmers can choose to diversify their income if they want, that our county can capture tax revenue for local needs, that businesses looking to locate here don’t cross us off the list because of power constraints.

Most of all, I want your kids to have the same choice I hope my kids have: the choice to build a life here if they want to, because there are good jobs and a strong economy and a future worth staying for.

Just like our landfill gas-to-energy project shows, Bannock County can solve problems the Idaho way—locally, responsibly, with common sense.

The question isn’t whether Idaho needs renewable energy—Idaho Power has already answered that. The question is whether Bannock County will help meet that need on our terms, with our standards, and capture the benefits for our community.

Or whether we’ll keep sitting this one out while everyone around us moves forward.