RIVERTON, Utah — In a backyard gathering of Republican activists in the Salt Lake City suburbs, the usual topics of conservative concern — from water shortages to immigration fraud and even chemtrail theories — gave way to a pressing discussion on artificial intelligence. Doug Fiefia, a state representative seeking a seat in the Utah Senate, steered the conversation toward the rapidly evolving technology, emphasizing its potential to reshape society. A former Google employee now campaigning on tech regulation, Fiefia told the dozen attendees, “I know it sounds like ‘Doug, this is all you talk about.’ That’s because it’s coming, it’s here and it’s going to be our biggest fight.”
Fiefia's push for state-level AI oversight has thrust him into direct opposition with the Trump administration, which has sought to centralize regulation at the federal level to avoid what it calls a stifling patchwork of rules. This year, the White House intervened to block Fiefia's Utah proposal, which aimed to mandate child safety protocols for AI companies. The administration argues that uniform national standards are essential to maintain U.S. competitiveness against China, warning that fragmented state laws could hinder innovation. Despite these efforts, states continue to advance their own measures, with over 1,000 AI-related legislative proposals introduced nationwide this year, according to tracking by the National Conference of State Legislatures.
The tension highlights a broader divide in how to govern AI amid its explosive growth. President Trump has repeatedly moved to curb state initiatives, including through an executive order that threatened legal action and funding cuts against overly restrictive policies. In February, the White House unveiled a framework for congressional legislation that would preempt state laws deemed “too burdensome,” while permitting some protections for children and copyrights. Yet, these federal overtures have done little to slow momentum at the state level, where lawmakers are responding to widespread public unease about the technology's risks.
A Quinnipiac University poll conducted last month revealed that about 8 in 10 Americans are “concerned” or “very concerned” about AI, with roughly three-quarters believing the government isn't doing enough to regulate it. The survey found strong bipartisan support for more oversight: nearly 9 in 10 Democrats and 6 in 10 Republicans favored increased government involvement. This anxiety has fueled a surge in state actions, from Florida's push for parental controls to New York's requirements for reporting AI-related dangers.
In Republican-led Florida, Gov. Ron DeSantis has called a special legislative session later this month to address AI, building on a bill he championed earlier this year. That measure, which passed the state Senate overwhelmingly but stalled in the House, sought to implement parental controls for minors and ban AI systems from using individuals' likenesses without consent. DeSantis, a potential 2028 presidential contender, has framed the issue as protecting families from unchecked tech advancement. Similarly, in Democratic strongholds like California and New York, more robust laws have taken effect. New York, for instance, last year mandated that major AI developers disclose catastrophic risks, such as scenarios involving AI overriding human commands or triggering nuclear plant failures.
Even in red states, resistance to federal preemption is growing. In Louisiana and Missouri, AI bills have faltered partly due to pushback from the Trump administration, but advocates like Fiefia persist. At the Riverton cottage meeting — a Utah tradition for informal political discussions — attendees peppered Fiefia with questions about the technology's implications. Structural engineer Brett Young, one of those present, captured the ambivalence: “None of us are really sure. Is this something we should be scared about, or is it no so big a deal and it’ll enhance our lives?”
Fiefia, 38, brings a unique perspective shaped by his career in Silicon Valley. The son of Tongan immigrants who grew up in Utah, he moved to California to work as a salesperson at Google, eventually managing a team implementing the company's early AI models. What he witnessed there left him disillusioned. “What I realized is Big Tech cares about their bottom line, and they were worried about making money, not doing right for the human race,” Fiefia said. Now employed at a Utah-based cloud computing and AI firm, he has channeled that experience into politics, winning a House seat in 2022 after just one term.
His proposed bill, which unanimously cleared a House committee earlier this year, went beyond child safety to include whistleblower protections for AI workers and requirements for public disclosure of system risks. But the Trump administration deemed it “unfixable” in a letter to the Utah Senate, leading to its swift defeat. Fiefia, challenging incumbent Sen. Daniel McCay in the Republican primary, views the federal stance as overreach. “The Trump administration is, ‘We want zero regulations on AI,’” he told the group. “I think that's wrong. I agree with a lot of what Trump says on taxes. I disagree with him on this.”
McCay, a more seasoned lawmaker, defends the bill's demise. “I've been around long enough to recognize the invention of fire, the wheel, cars and the internet did not ruin society and I'm very skeptical of anyone trying to scare society into regulations,” he said in an interview. He argued the measure would have “driven Utah out of the AI innovation business,” noting its expansive scope beyond mere child protections. McCay's district, encompassing suburban Riverton with its mountain views, cul-de-sacs filled with biking children, and nearby shopping centers, represents a conservative base wary of economic threats.
Fiefia is not alone in his crusade. He co-chairs the AI task force of the Future Caucus, a bipartisan network of younger state lawmakers focused on emerging technologies. His counterpart, Vermont Democrat Monique Priestley, also a former tech worker, described the challenges of battling industry influence. “It's like you're running around against an army of full-time lobbyists,” she said, recounting how 166 of Vermont's 482 registered lobbyists opposed her data privacy bill last year, which was ultimately vetoed by the governor. The group relies on video calls and chats to swap strategies and counter opposition from tech giants.
Another task force member, Alex Bores, a former data scientist at Palantir who resigned over the firm's immigration enforcement contract with the Trump administration, helped author New York's landmark AI law. Now running in the June 23 Democratic primary for a U.S. House seat in Manhattan, Queens, and Brooklyn — vacated by retiring Rep. Jerrold Nadler — Bores faces industry retaliation. A pro-AI super PAC has poured $2.3 million into ads against him, aiming to deter further regulation. “It's one reason it's so important for me to win this race is because, if I don't, that intimidation they're trying on Congress will be successful,” Bores said. His opponents include Jack Schlossberg, grandson of President John F. Kennedy, and George Conway, a vocal Trump critic.
Craig Albright, senior vice president for government relations at the Business Software Alliance — which represents companies like Microsoft and Adobe — acknowledged the state-level surge. “There's a lot of state lawmakers looking at what the federal government is doing and saying, ‘We want to take action because we’re not satisfied,’” he said. Popular state proposals include requiring chatbots to disclose they are not human and prohibiting AI-generated nonconsensual pornography, such as deepfakes that alter clothing in online images.
The federal impasse has left states as the primary battleground. With Congress gridlocked on comprehensive AI legislation, governors and legislators are filling the void, often prioritizing local concerns like privacy and safety. In Utah, Fiefia's campaign tests whether voters in a deeply red state will back a Republican bucking the party's standard-bearer on tech policy. As the primary approaches, his defiance underscores a growing recognition that AI's societal impact demands action, regardless of partisan lines.
Looking ahead, the special session in Florida could signal more Republican-led reforms, potentially pressuring the White House to refine its preemption strategy. Nationally, the Quinnipiac poll's findings suggest public demand could force Congress to act, though timing remains uncertain. For lawmakers like Fiefia, the fight is just beginning. In a state prized for its tech-friendly environment — home to companies leveraging AI for everything from data storage to autonomous systems — balancing innovation with safeguards will define Utah's role in the AI era.
Ultimately, the clash between federal uniformity and state autonomy reflects deeper questions about governance in the digital age. As AI integrates into daily life, from job markets to personal interactions, the pushback from figures like Fiefia illustrates that even within Trump's party, there's no consensus on letting innovation run unchecked. Whether this leads to a national compromise or further fragmentation, one thing is clear: the “biggest fight,” as Fiefia put it, is far from over.