In the face of the global climate crisis, the state of Michigan has established ambitious renewable energy goals, promising 50% clean energy by 2030 and 100% clean energy by 2040 under the 2023 package signed by Gov. Gretchen Whitmer. As the state pushes ahead toward its clean energy future, rural communities bear the overwhelming share of solar energy deployment; most of Michigan’s current and planned projects are utility-scale, demanding significant space typically available only in rural areas. 

While large-scale solar deployment is essential to fulfill Michigan’s renewable energy goals, the pathways through which projects are planned, approved and developed often leave local governments and communities scrambling to respond. Michigan’s climate goals cannot be met sustainably without stronger collaboration and education at the community level. Their success also depends on a shared sense of what each of us can contribute, from energy efficiency to the roles which our hometowns, urban or rural, play in this transition. Without community-informed, reversible design and empathy for the localities playing host to large-scale projects, the state’s clean energy efforts risk deepening divides rather than bridging them.

Understanding how these projects come together in Michigan is integral to navigating tensions around solar development that can delay or interrupt project development. Utility-scale projects typically begin before communities even hear about them; developers secure land leases, wait years in the regional Midcontinent Independent System Operator queue and then enter local zoning processes that many communities have limited capacity to manage. 

These pressures have intensified under Michigan’s 2023 statewide siting law, which allows developers to bypass local ordinances and apply directly to the state through the Michigan Public Service Commission in circumstances where local ordinances are deemed too restrictive. While few developers have opted to take this route, mostly due to slower timelines and increased complexities in the state route, this law adds external, top-down pressure onto decision-making processes for communities. By the time a proposal shows up on a township agenda, community members and officials are already struggling to catch up.

In an interview with The Michigan Daily, Madeleine Krol, the Clean Energy Land Use Specialist at the Graham Sustainability Institute’s Center for EmPowering Communities, explained that most communities don’t encounter utility-scale projects until a developer comes forward with a concrete proposal. “Most communities are reacting to a proposal rather than getting the chance to understand these projects ahead of time,” she said. “By the time a developer shows up, local officials are already under pressure to make decisions quickly.”

Krol, who works to help communities understand what Michigan’s siting law means for them and what action they can take when developers show up, emphasized that it takes increased resources and capacity for local governments to be proactive. Reactive responses aren’t due to disengagement or hostility in these communities. Rather, they occur because very few have the staff, funding or technical expertise to plan for infrastructure of this scale. 

Zoning ordinances may be decades old, written before utility-scale solar was even considered, and updating them requires time, consultation and money that townships often don’t have. Rural planning commissions are often understaffed, juggling complex land-use standards and shifting state policy in addition to the needs of their communities. Layer on the years-long MISO queue and the stringent timelines created by the 2023 siting law, and it becomes evident why communities feel rushed and overwhelmed.

Confusion should not be mistaken for opposition, however; many residents have never encountered an energy project of this scale, and their concerns are often rooted in a lack of information and input rather than hostility toward clean energy. As Krol explained, complexities like farmland impacts, visual screening, noise and tax revenue come into play in this process. In many places, once communities have the chance to ask questions, understand their authority and negotiate development, projects do move forward. And communities are not doing this alone. Programs like the Department of Environment, Great Lakes and Energy’s Renewable Energy Academy provide grants and planning assistance to help low-capacity townships. Combined with the guidance provided by experts like those of the Center for EmPowering Communities, solar projects across the state are moving ahead despite limited capacity and a rapidly evolving policy landscape. The common narrative that rural communities are obstructors of solar development overshadows these efforts, but these local attempts to engage and adapt matter. They show that even under a shifting policy framework, communities are still making solar work.

Although some argue that Michigan’s climate deadlines leave no room for extended community engagement and that the state should prioritize speed and push projects forward through local concern, rushing development often has the opposite effect. Utility-scale solar raises real economic questions for communities, from uneven lease benefits to concerns about tax revenue and long-term reversibility. It also reshapes the landscapes communities value, presenting cultural and environmental concerns about visual change and ecological function. 

Navigating this renewable path forward requires more than meeting state targets. It requires treating host communities as partners whose goals, values and long-term plans for their places matter. This is where the work of people like Sarah Mills, the director of the Center for EmPowering Communities, becomes essential. In her work with rural communities, Mills emphasizes that renewable energy development succeeds when communities have information, time and input into projects. Solar is not simply a land-use decision, but rather an opportunity for communities to think about what they want their future to look like.

When communities feel that they are stripped of their authority in decision-making processes that shape their landscape, distrust grows and projects can stall. As both Mills and Krol emphasized, community trust is not an obstacle to clean energy but a necessity for it; with engagement, transparency and community-informed design comes the support needed for long-term deployment. Solar projects, no matter how quickly developed, are unsustainable without community buy-in. 

Community-centered development starts with early, open conversations, rather than simply informing communities of a proposed project; it invites them to help shape development outcomes and address their local concerns. Mills emphasized the stakes of this approach: “Rural places are essential to meeting Michigan’s climate goals, and how we treat them will determine whether this transition bridges divides or widens them.” Designing projects that reflect local priorities, reduce disruption and protect the productivity of land can transform a solar project from an imposition to an asset. 

As Michigan races toward its green future, responsibility for decarbonization should not fall on rural communities alone. The energy transition will be most impactful if it feels like a shared responsibility and achievement, one rooted in understanding, respect and recognition that every community in Michigan has a role to play.

Analeigh Majewski is an opinion analyst who writes about environmental, political, and social issues. She can be reached by email at amajew@umich.edu.