TEXAS Biggest Megaprojects Under Construction
Description
Texas is building more, faster, and bigger than anywhere else in America — and the biggest projects reveal exactly what the state believes the next decade will look like.
In this documentary, we examine Texas' biggest megaprojects under construction in 2026: Terafab, the $16.8 billion SpaceX/Tesla semiconductor factory in Grimes County that could become the largest building on Earth; the $33 billion transmission expansion rebuilding the Texas power grid; San Antonio's $3 billion I-35 NEX elevated highway and the $1.4 billion Loop 1604 expansion; the proposed $13.5 billion San Antonio–Austin passenger rail line; and the pipeline and industrial boom transforming the Gulf Coast. Then we ask the harder question: can the infrastructure underneath Texas actually keep up?
CHAPTERS
0:00 – Texas Is Building Something Enormous
1:30 – Terafab: The Largest Building on Earth?
5:30 – The $33 Billion Power Problem
9:00 – San Antonio's Highway in the Sky (I-35 NEX & Loop 1604)
13:00 – The $13.5 Bill
Transcript
Read auto-generated transcript (4929 words)
Kind: captions Language: en Texas is building something enormous. Not one project, not 10. An entire new infrastructure system [music] rising all at once across the biggest state economy in America. A $16.8 billion semiconductor factory that could become the largest building on Earth. Highways being stacked into the sky and widened to 14 lanes. $ 33 billion of new power lines, new rail proposals, new pipelines, new factories, new ports of entry for an economy that refuses to slow down. But there's a problem, a big one. Texas may be building faster than its own infrastructure can keep up. The power grid is straining. The water is being questioned. The land is being fought over. And the state that spent decades telling the world, "Come here and build," is now discovering what happens when the world actually shows up. Because the projects we're about to see aren't isolated construction sites. They're pieces of a much larger transformation. Texas isn't simply growing. It's trying to become America's industrial center, its semiconductor center, its energy center, its data center capital, and its logistics backbone all at the same time. The state's transportation department alone is tracking more than 11,000 active projects. But the biggest ones tell us something more interesting than any statistic. They tell us exactly where Texas thinks the next decade of America is going. And they raise a question that hangs over every crane and every concrete pore in this video. Is Texas building the future of America? Or is it creating infrastructure problems faster than it can solve them? By the end, you can decide for yourself. Let's start with the project that stunned everyone. On August 6th, 2026, SpaceX and Tesla confirmed something that had been rumored for months. Their joint semiconductor factory called Terraab will be built in Grimes County, Texas, [music] in Quiet Ranch Country, about an hour northwest of Houston near College Station. The first phase alone carries a price tag of 16.8 billion. The planned [music] footprint is more than 100 million square ft of manufacturing space and filings suggest the total investment across as many as four phases [music] could eventually reach 119 billion. Elon Musk didn't [music] hold back. He called it the largest and most valuable building on Earth by far. Now, the strange thing about Terraab isn't simply that it costs billions. Plenty of things cost billions. The strange thing is the sheer amount of building involved. 100 million square ft is a number that means nothing until you compare it to something. The Pentagon, the largest office building in America, could fit inside it with room to spare. So could Apple Park in California. So could the Mall of America in Minnesota. In fact, [music] you could put all three of them inside Terrafab's planned footprint at the same time, and you would still have space left over. Tesla's Giga Texas factory outside Austin, itself, one of the largest buildings in the world, could fit inside Terraab roughly 10 times. This is not a factory in the ordinary sense. It's closer to an enclosed industrial city, and the timeline is just as aggressive as the footprint. Civil work on the site began almost immediately after the announcement with foundations and full-scale construction scheduled within months. A typical advanced chip plant takes around 3 years to bring online. Musk is publicly targeting a faster schedule than the industry has ever managed on a building the industry has never attempted. Earlier this year, Tesla broke ground on a smaller research fab at the north campus of Giga, Texas, the precursor and proving ground for what happens in Grimes County. The research fab works out the process. Terrafab scales it to a size no one has ever seen. So, what exactly is this thing? At its simplest, Terraab is a chip factory, but it's designed to work differently from almost every chip factory ever built. Today, making an advanced computer chip is a global relay race. The chip is designed in one country, manufactured in another, packaged and tested somewhere else, then shipped around the world to wherever it's finally needed. Terrafab is an attempt to collapse that entire relay race under one roof. Logic chips, [music] memory, advanced packaging, and testing, all inside a single building in rural Texas. The chips it produces are meant for Tesla's humanoid robots, its self-driving robo taxes, and for something even stranger, data centers that SpaceX wants to launch into orbit. Musk's argument is blunt. He says his companies will eventually need more computing power than the entire global chip industry can produce. Whether you believe that or not, [music] he's betting more money on it than almost any private construction project in American history. Even Intel has signed on as a partner, which raises the obvious question, why here? Why a rural county of ranches and small towns? The answer says a lot about how Texas wins these [music] projects. Grimes County sits near a growing manufacturing corridor close to Texas. [music] A&M's engineering workforce with cheap land, political support, and something increasingly precious in Texas, a dedicated water source. The site sits beside the Gibbons Creek Reservoir, a lake originally built to cool a coal power plant that shut down in 2018. The companies say the factory will draw its water from that reservoir instead of pumping local groundwater. The state sweetened the deal with a $30 million grant. The county approved a 10-year tax abatement, and in exchange, the company legally committed to invest at least $5 billion by 2030 and create at least 1,800 [music] full-time jobs by 2035, with total employment planned at 3,000 or more, hiring aimed at residents of Grimes and neighboring Brazos County. And there's a simpler reason, too. Musk's companies already live here. SP X launches Starship from Starbase near Brownsville, builds Starlink kits in Bastrop, and tests rocket [music] engines in McGregor. Tesla's headquarters and Giga, Texas sit in Austin. By the company's own count, their Texas operations have generated tens of thousands of direct and indirect jobs and tens of billions of dollars in economic impact in just the last 2 years. Terraab isn't a company arriving in Texas. It's a company doubling down on it. But here's where the story turns. Because the people who actually live in Grimes County didn't [music] ask for the largest building on Earth. The night before the announcement, hundreds of residents packed a county meeting, raising concerns about water, traffic, [music] emergency services, and the tax breaks being handed to two of the most valuable companies in the world. A local group calling itself Grimes County Citizens for Responsible Development gathered nearly 900 signatures on a petition demanding enforcable [music] protections, transparency, and independent oversight. Their message was simple. Progress can't only be measured in investment dollars. It has to be measured in what happens to the people, the land, the water, and the roads [music] that were here first. And there's one more wrinkle the press releases don't advertise. In its own stock market filings, SpaceX described [music] the Terraab arrangement as a general framework with no binding commitments and no obligation for either [music] company to continue. The number has already moved several times from 25 billion at the first announcement to 55 billion in one filing down to 16.8 billion for the confirmed first [music] phase. So, Texas is getting either the largest building in human history or a very expensive promise. Nobody knows yet which one. And here's the part almost nobody is talking about. Terraab isn't even Texas's biggest infrastructure problem. Because a building like that runs on one thing above everything else, electricity. And electricity is exactly where Texas is. is starting to crack. Think about what's arriving in Texas all at once. Giant factories, artificial intelligence data centers, millions of new residents, electrified oil fields in West Texas. Every single one of them plugs into the same power grid. And that grid is now being asked to do something it has never done before. The state's grid operator is currently looking at roughly 474 gawatt of requests from projects wanting to connect, mostly data centers. To put that in perspective, that's more than five times the all-time record for electricity demand across the entire Texas [music] grid. It's as if five more Texases showed up and asked to plug in. and Texans carry a memory that makes all of this personal. February 2021. Winter storm Yuri. The week the grid failed, the lights went out for millions and hundreds of people died in the cold. Every conversation about the Texas [music] grid since then happens in the shadow of that week. So when the same grid is now being asked to absorb demand on a scale never seen anywhere in the world, the stakes aren't abstract. They're remembered. Consider West Texas alone. The oil and gas industry has spent the last decade electrifying its drilling rigs, pumps, and compressors, replacing diesel engines with grid power. Add data centers and crypto mining to the same region and demand in the Peran basin is projected to more than double, reaching roughly 26 gawatt by 2038. That single oil patch would consume about a third of what the entire Texas grid delivers on a peak summer day today. The state's answer is the largest power transmission buildout in Texas history. nearly $33 billion for a plan that includes roughly 2,500 miles of new extra high voltage lines. The first 765 kilo volt lines ever built in the state, plus hundreds of miles of additional lines and thousands of miles of upgrades stretching from the Peran Basin oil fields in the west all the way across central and [music] east Texas. More than 3,400 miles of new right ofway targeted for completion by 2032. Why 765 kilo volts? Because those lines carry roughly double the voltage of anything on the Texas grid today, which means each line moves far more power and fewer total lines have to be built. Regulators argue that means less land taken, less congestion, and a grid built for decades instead of years. Critics answer that once you factor in financing and maintenance over the line's lifetime, the true cost approaches $100 billion. Either way, [music] understand what's happening here. This isn't adding a few transmission towers. This is rebuilding the electrical backbone underneath an economy expanding at extraordinary speed. And why now? In one word, computing. Artificial intelligence runs on data centers. Data centers run on staggering amounts of electricity, and electricity has to travel from where it's generated to where it's used. Texas spent years advertising itself as the place where anyone can build anything and the data center industry took the offer. Now the bill is arriving. In August 2026, Governor Greg Abbott did something almost unthinkable for Texas. He hit the brakes. He ordered a pause on approving new data center connections to the grid until state regulators audit somewhere between 250 and 300 [music] pending projects. The audit demands answers to questions the state admits it doesn't have. How much power will each facility actually use? How much water? Where will that water come from? Who's paying for the infrastructure? It came out that under an existing state law requiring data centers to report their power and water use, fewer than 1 in 10 were actually complying. Texas, the state famous for saying yes, is now pausing hundreds of projects just to figure out what it already agreed to. Meanwhile, the transmission lines themselves have started a war of their own because $33 billion of power lines don't float in the air. They cross land, ranch land, hill country, property that families have held for generations. Land owners packed the state capital to testify against the routes. Lawmakers who originally ordered the expansion are now pushing to pause it. And under current rules, the tab largely lands on ordinary rateayers, the same Texas families whose electric bills fund the wires that power someone else's data center. State leaders warn that delays [music] could threaten grid reliability. Land owners answer that reliability shouldn't cost them their land. Both sides have a point. That's what makes it a genuine crisis rather than a talking point. When hundreds of giant electricity users arrive at the same time, someone has to build the infrastructure to power them and someone has to live under it. And Texas isn't only rebuilding its power system. It's also rebuilding something every single viewer of this video understands personally. It's roads. Drive Interstate 35 through San Antonio at rush hour and you'll witness a strange truth about modern Texas. The state can build factories faster than people can move around them. San Antonio is one of the fastest growing regions in the country and I35 through its northeast side has become one of the most congested corridors in the state. The fix is called the I35 Northeast expansion and it is enormous, roughly $3 billion, about 20 m of highway, and a solution you don't see very often. Instead of bulldozing outward into homes and businesses, Texas is building upward. Crews are constructing a second highway in the sky, elevated lanes running directly above the existing interstate. two generalurpose lanes [music] and a carpool lane in each direction, stacked on massive concrete columns rising between the main lanes and the frontage roads. When it's finished, this stretch of I35 will carry up to 14 lanes of traffic, [music] and the elevated structure will rank among the longest road bridges in the [music] United States with sweeping flyover connectors tying it into Loop 410 and Loop6004. The central section alone is a $1.5 billion dollar contract with the full program targeted for completion around 2028. And think about how this actually gets built. The elevated lanes rise through one of the densest commercial corridors in South Texas, threaded between businesses, neighborhoods, and a live interstate [music] carrying tens of thousands of vehicles a day. Massive steel girders are lifted into place at night over closed lanes between 9:00 in the evening and 5:00 in the morning so the highway can reopen for the morning commute. 20 ramps rebuilt or reconfigured. Miles of frontage roads, [music] drainage, and buried utilities relocated while traffic keeps moving. Engineers first recommended [music] express lanes for this corridor back in the 1990s. It took 30 years, but the solution they sketched is finally standing on columns above the interstate. And it's not happening alone. Wrapping around the city's north side, the separate loop6004 north expansion is transforming 23 mi of what was essentially a four-lane road into a 10-lane expressway with carpool lanes, a five-level interchange, [music] and its final segment, which broke ground in the summer of 2026, connecting directly into the I35 project. Together, these two projects represent nearly $5 billion of construction in a single metro area. Two of the largest transportation investments in the region's history, deliberately designed to function as one system. Widen the loop, elevate the interstate, [music] tie them together, and hope it's enough. But here's the problem with building more lanes. It's the question traffic engineers whisper and politicians avoid. San Antonio and the corridor north of it are growing so [music] fast that the population between San Antonio and Austin around 4 and a half million people today is projected to approach 7 million by 2030 if Texas keeps [music] growing faster than the roads can be expanded. How long before today's 14 lane solution becomes tomorrow's 14lane bottleneck? Texas has asked that question before, and it has always answered the same way, more lanes. But for the first time in a generation, a different answer is on the table. What if the solution isn't another highway at all? What if it's a train? In August 2026, just days ago, Travis County released a study examining exactly that. a passenger rail line connecting San Antonio and Austin, two booming cities separated by about 80 miles of the most congested interstate in Texas. The engineering verdict was surprising. It can be done. Trains running at 125 mph connecting Austin's airport to downtown San Antonio near the Alamo Dome with a one-way trip of 55 to 65 minutes. No engineering deal breakers. But then comes the price. Up to $13.5 billion. Why so much? Because of how it would have to be built. The proposed route runs about 90 mi along the rights of Way of State Highway 130 and Interstate 10. And nearly 54 of those miles would have to be elevated. a train literally flying over Texas on concrete vioaducts for more than half its journey. Supporters point out something remarkable in the numbers. Each mile of that railroad would cost around $69 million. Each mile of rebuilding Interstate 35 [music] is costing roughly $87 million. The train [music] mile for mile is cheaper than the highway. And the estimate isn't a fantasy number. It includes a 45% contingency cushion, $360 million for six complete trains, [music] and 300 million for an operations and maintenance facility. The engineers patted it for reality, and it still came out cheaper per mile than the road. Here's what makes that comparison sting. Leaders in these two cities have been chasing this train since 1984. Four decades of studies, committees, and lobbying. And today, the entire passenger rail service between San Antonio and Austin consists of exactly one Amtrak round trip per [music] day. A train that arrives on time, barely half the time. So why doesn't it exist already? One name explains most of it. Union Pacific. The freight railroad giant owns the existing tracks that run straight down the corridor through every town between the two cities. Running fast, frequent passenger trains on that line would cost a fraction of the elevated route, perhaps between 800 million and $2 billion. But Union Pacific's business is freight. And for more than 20 years, every attempt to share those tracks has stalled, which leaves Texas with a choice that captures this entire era. Negotiate with a railroad that has other priorities or spend 13.5 billion building around it. Texas has spent decades building for cars. Now, it's discovering that the next phase of growth may require an entirely different kind of infrastructure, and neither path is cheap, easy, or guaranteed. Now, pull the camera back because highways and railroads are only the part of the boom you can see from your windshield. Spread across the state right now is an industrial buildout with almost no equal in modern American history. Samsung's $17 billion chip plant in Taylor, northeast of Austin, the same facility contracted to supply Tesla's near-term chips. While Terrafab rises, Texas Instruments pouring tens of billions into new fabs in Sherman. Liqufied natural gas export terminals rising on the Gulf Coast. steel, batteries, chemicals, logistics hubs, and underneath all of it, pipelines. According to the US Energy Information Administration, roughly 70% of new natural gas pipeline capacity planned in the entire United States for 2026 and 2027 is already under construction. [music] And about 2/3 of those planned additions begin in Texas. 2/3. Think about what that number means. It means [music] the energy plumbing of the whole country is increasingly being routed through one state. Gas flows out of the Peran basin in West Texas, travels through new pipelines toward the Gulf Coast, and from there it either ships overseas as LNG, feeds chemical plants, or generates the electricity that powers the factories and data centers. we've spent [music] this whole video watching rise. And that's the key to understanding everything you've seen. So, the Texas construction boom isn't one boom. It's several booms happening simultaneously. An energy boom, a computing boom, a manufacturing boom, a transportation boom, a population boom. Each one would be a major story on its own. But they aren't separate stories because every single one of them pulls on the same physical foundations, the same grid, the same water, the same [music] roads, the same land. Which brings us to the part [music] of this story that determines how it ends. Can the infrastructure actually keep up? Look at what's being asked of it. Electricity. The state is spending $33 billion on transmission and pausing hundreds of data centers because it can't yet answer basic questions about demand. Water. Terraab points to its reservoir. But across Texas, communities are asking how much water the data center boom will consume. And the honest answer is [music] that the state doesn't fully know because most operators weren't reporting it. roads. Billions in freeway expansions racing [music] against population growth that may outrun them before the concrete cures. Land. Thousands of miles of new transmission corridors crossing private ranches [music] with multigenerational land owners testifying at the capital that the routes threaten their way of life. and communities. Quiet rural counties like Grimes waking up to [music] discover that the largest building on Earth is coming to the pasture down the road, whether they signed up for it or not. None of these are arguments against building. They're the cost of building this much this fast all at once. Texas is running a live experiment on the question every growing economy eventually faces. What happens when success [music] arrives faster than the systems designed to support it? Which is [music] why the story keeps coming back to that field in Grimes County. 100 million square ft, 16.8 billion in phase 1, potentially 119 billion before it's done. A single project that needs its own water source, strains the region's roads, reshapes two school districts finances, and will pull on a grid that's already auditing 300 other giant customers just to see if they'll fit. Now ask the bigger question. If this is what one project demands, what does Texas look like when dozens of projects of this scale are operating simultaneously? Because that's [music] the actual plan. That is what the highways, the power lines, the pipelines, and the rail studies are all preparing for. At that point, this stops being a story about construction and becomes a story about what America is turning into. Because Texas isn't really building a factory here and a freeway there. Step back far enough and a picture comes into focus. Texas is building an industrial state where advanced manufacturing returns to American soil at a scale not seen in generations. An energy state where the power and fuel for the national economy is produced, moved, and exported. An artificial intelligence state where the computing infrastructure of the next economy gets housed [music] and powered. A logistics state where highways, ports, and pipelines knit it all together. And a rapidly urbanizing state where millions of new residents need somewhere to live, drive, and plug in. That's why these projects matter beyond their price tags. The highways aren't just highways. The factories aren't just factories. The power lines aren't just power lines. Together, they're the physical skeleton of whatever Texas becomes next. And because Texas is now the engine room of the American economy, they're a preview of whatever America becomes next, too. Texas has built its reputation on doing things bigger. Bigger highways, bigger factories, bigger energy projects, and now [music] potentially the biggest building on Earth. But the real test was never whether Texas could build these projects. Texas can pour concrete like nowhere else in the country. The real test is whether the grid, the water, the roads, and the communities around them can keep up. The answer is being written right now. In a rural county outside College Station, in Hill Country pastures [music] staked for transmission towers, on elevated lanes rising over San Antonio, and in hearing rooms where ranchers and regulators argue about who pays for the future. Because Texas isn't just building the future, it's testing whether America can handle it. So, here's the question [music] we'll leave you with. When you look at everything Texas is building, do you see a state boldly constructing the next American century? Or a state racing past the limits of its own foundations? Tell us what you see because 10 years from now, one of those answers will have come true.