Data Center Noise: Can You Sue Over the Hum?

A hyperscale data center is, acoustically, a wall of industrial cooling equipment that never turns off. Banks of chillers, air handlers, and fans run 24 hours a day, every day, because the servers inside generate heat around the clock. Layered on top is periodic diesel generator testing, when a campus runs its backup generators to confirm they will start in an outage.

Two features make this noise unusually hard to live with:

• It never stops. A concert ends. Traffic dies down at night. The cooling hum is still there at 3 a.m., which is exactly when ambient neighborhood noise drops and the hum becomes most noticeable. Nuisance law cares about this: a sound that would be tolerable for an hour can be an unreasonable interference when it runs all night, every night.
• Much of it is low frequency. Large fans and chillers produce energy at the low end of the spectrum. Low frequency sound travels farther than high frequency sound, passes through walls and closed windows more easily, and is often perceived as a pressure or throb rather than a distinct noise. Residents commonly describe it as a hum they can feel.

The health complaints in the reporting are consistent from state to state. In the Granbury, Texas litigation, residents documented migraines, tinnitus, and sleep loss among more than two dozen people living near the facility. Sleep disruption is the through line in nearly every data center noise dispute, and it is also the harm courts take most seriously in private nuisance cases, because sleep is central to the use and enjoyment of a home.

The Microsoft Fairwater class action (Wisconsin, 2026). Three Sturtevant residents filed a class action over noise from Microsoft's 1.2 million square foot Fairwater data center in Mount Pleasant, seeking to represent every household within a 1.5 mile radius, more than 1,000 households. Per reporting, it is the first noise class action against a hyperscale AI data center, and it is the case the industry is watching, because a certified class within a fixed radius would give every large campus in the country a template for exposure. The case is pending. Read our full breakdown at the Microsoft Mount Pleasant case page.

The Granbury, Texas suits. The doctrinal test bed for AI data center noise claims is crypto mining litigation, and Granbury is the flagship. In October 2024, Earthjustice filed a private nuisance suit in Texas state court for Granbury residents against Marathon Digital Holdings over 24/7 fan noise at a facility at the Wolf Hollow plant, seeking a permanent injunction. In May 2026, a separate group of nine Hood County property owners filed a federal complaint alleging private nuisance, negligence, and intentional infliction of emotional distress, seeking more than $1 million. Both cases are pending. The facilities differ, but the noise source, giant banks of cooling fans running around the clock, is the same, which is why these cases matter for data center neighbors everywhere. Details at our Granbury case page.

The remedies these plaintiffs are pursuing show the menu available in a noise case: money damages for the interference already suffered, and injunctive relief ordering the operator to fix the problem, whether by sound walls, equipment enclosures, quieter fan technology, or operational limits.

Two of the most instructive data center noise stories involve no lawsuit at all, and it is worth being honest about that, because litigation is one lever among several.

Great Oak v. the hum (Manassas, Virginia). Starting in 2022, roughly 300 homes in the Great Oak neighborhood of Prince William County were subjected to constant mechanical noise from AWS data centers about 600 feet away. Residents organized, documented what appeared to be exceedances of the county's 60 dB daytime noise standard, and pushed the county into backing formal noise studies. No lawsuit was ever filed. Under sustained pressure, Amazon made engineering changes that cut the sound by roughly 10 decibels, a large reduction, since a 10 dB drop is perceived as about half as loud. The lesson: a well documented complaint campaign, aimed at an operator that cares about local approvals for its next building, can win real mitigation without a courtroom.

Chandler, Arizona and the first noise ordinance. Complaints about the constant hum from CyrusOne's campus in Chandler began in 2014. Residents never sued; the company added mitigation under city pressure in 2018, and the city then went further. In December 2022, Chandler unanimously passed the first data center noise ordinance in the country, effective January 2023. It requires pre-construction community meetings, a paid noise liaison officer, baseline acoustic studies before operations begin, a rule that operations must not raise neighborhood sound above that baseline, five years of annual noise studies, and generator testing protocols. Chandler later rejected a new data center proposal in 2025. The lesson: noise fights can produce durable rules that protect the whole neighborhood, not just the plaintiffs.

Most counties and cities have a noise ordinance, and many set daytime limits somewhere in the range of roughly 55 to 60 dBA at the property line, with lower limits at night. Prince William County, Virginia, home of the Great Oak dispute, uses a 60 dB daytime standard. Your own ordinance is a public document; the county code office or the municipal code website will have the exact numbers, measurement method, and exemptions for your area.

An ordinance matters to a noise claim in three ways:

• Violations are powerful evidence. Documented readings above the legal limit make the "unreasonableness" element of a nuisance claim far easier to prove, and they let you demand county code enforcement in parallel.
• Compliance is not a defense to everything. This is the point neighbors most often miss. A facility can be under the dBA limit and still be a private nuisance, because ordinances measure average levels on a scale that discounts low frequencies, while nuisance law asks whether the interference with your home is substantial and unreasonable in context. A 24/7 low frequency hum can flunk that test while passing the meter.
• Ordinances can be strengthened. Chandler proves a community can win a purpose-built data center noise regime, with baseline studies and generator testing rules, when the generic ordinance fails them.

Generator testing deserves its own complaint entries. Backup diesel generators are dramatically louder than the cooling hum, and testing schedules are usually set by the operator. If tests happen early in the morning, on weekends, or far more often than the permit contemplates, log every instance; testing practices are frequently regulated by the facility's permit conditions, which are public records.

Noise cases are won on records, not recollections. Build the file like this:

1. Keep a dated noise log. Date, time, duration, what the noise was like (steady hum, throb, generator roar), and the effect: woke you at 2 a.m., forced you indoors, drove you off the porch. Contemporaneous entries carry real evidentiary weight; reconstructed memories do not.

2. Take regular decibel readings. A phone app is a start; a consumer sound meter, often under $50, is better. Measure at the same spots, your property line and outside the bedroom window, at the same times, including late night. Note the weather, since wind and temperature change how sound carries. Record video with audio so the readings have context.

3. Complain in writing, every time. File with county code enforcement or the police non-emergency line, whichever your ordinance designates, and email the operator's community contact if one exists. Keep copies of everything. A long complaint history proves the problem is continuous and that the operator knew.

4. Pull the public file. The facility's rezoning conditions, special use permit, and any noise studies filed during approval are public records. Approval conditions often contain enforceable noise commitments the operator has quietly stopped honoring.

5. Ask the county for a professional study. Prince William County backed a formal noise study for the Great Oak neighborhood; an official study is both free to residents and hard for an operator to dismiss.

6. Map the affected households. Talk to neighbors and mark who hears it, how far out, and who has sleep or health effects. The Fairwater plaintiffs framed their class as a 1.5 mile radius; knowing your own radius tells a lawyer whether you have an individual claim or a neighborhood-wide one.

Our evidence guide covers the full documentation playbook, including records requests.

Remedies in a noise case come in three forms. First, money damages for the interference you have already lived through, including loss of use and enjoyment of your home and, where proven, health effects like chronic sleep deprivation. Second, injunctive relief: a court order requiring sound barriers, equipment enclosures, quieter equipment, limits on generator testing hours, or in extreme cases operational restrictions. Third, negotiated outcomes, which is where many of these disputes actually end: mitigation packages, monitoring commitments, and occasionally buyouts of the worst affected homes. The Granbury plaintiffs are seeking a permanent injunction; the Fairwater class seeks relief for over 1,000 households at once.

Deadlines apply. Nuisance claims carry a statute of limitations, commonly two to six years depending on the state, and while continuing nuisances refresh the clock in many states, waiting still costs you evidence and leverage. An attorney will confirm the rules where you live.

If the hum is disrupting your sleep and your home, start the log today, and consider getting a professional read on your situation. Our free case review connects you with an independent attorney in our network who handles data center and industrial noise matters in your state. There is no cost to submit and no obligation to hire anyone; the attorney evaluates your facts, including your noise logs and readings, and tells you whether you have a claim worth pursuing.