Dublin: Europe runs much of its digital life on infrastructure it does not own. The servers that hold its companies’ data and the platforms that train its artificial-intelligence models are overwhelmingly American. On 3 June the Commission set out a plan to change that, proposing a Cloud and AI Development Act intended to wean the Union off its dependence on foreign suppliers.
The ambition is large. The proposal aims to triple the bloc’s data-centre capacity within five to seven years and to guarantee that Europe has the computing power it needs by the middle of the next decade. To get there, member states would be required to designate at least one data-centre acceleration zone, where projects could move through aggregated permits on a strict twelve-month clock rather than the years of planning delay that now deters investors.
At the heart of the act sits a Cloud Sovereignty Framework. It sorts cloud services into four assurance levels measured against criteria such as who controls the service, where the data sits, how secure the supply chain is, and the provider’s cybersecurity posture. Alongside it, public bodies buying cloud and AI services would have to weigh Union added value as a non-price factor, rewarding suppliers who build with European technology, run innovation inside the bloc, or use hardware designed and made there.
The measure is one strand of a broader Tech Sovereignty Package unveiled the same day, and part of the Commission’s wider AI Continent Action Plan. Together they reflect a hardening conviction that dependence on a handful of non-European firms is no longer merely a commercial matter but a strategic vulnerability, exposed every time trade tensions flare across the Atlantic.
The plan has not been universally welcomed. Analysts sympathetic to its goals have called its foundations fragile, questioning whether tripling capacity is achievable on the proposed timetable and at what cost in energy and water. Data centres are voracious consumers of both, and several governments are already wrestling with grid constraints and local opposition to new builds. A push to accelerate permitting could collide with environmental commitments the same Union has made elsewhere.
There is also the familiar charge of protectionism. By baking preference for European providers into procurement, critics argue, the act risks raising costs for the public sector and inviting retaliation from trading partners who see a thinly veiled barrier to their firms. Supporters counter that the United States and China have long tilted their own markets, and that Europe is merely catching up.
The proposal now begins its journey through the Parliament and the Council, where the targets, the sovereignty levels and the procurement rules will all be contested. What is not in doubt is the underlying anxiety driving it. After years of writing rules to govern other countries’ technology, the Union is trying, belatedly, to build more of its own.




