US is drafting a ban on Chinese devices in data centres

The Trump administration wants Chinese hardware out of American data centres. Officials are drafting a ban on Chinese-made devices used in data centres, according to Reuters, the latest move to wall off the infrastructure behind the US AI buildout from Chinese technology.

The draft extends a campaign that has been widening fast. It follows a ban, unveiled days earlier, on new Chinese humanoid robots and power inverters, both cast as risks to critical infrastructure.

That earlier move set the template. US regulators added foreign robots and inverters to a restricted list over fears that Chinese-controlled devices could become supply-chain vulnerabilities or remote-access points.

Data centres are the natural next target. They are the physical core of the AI economy, packed with servers, networking gear, and power equipment, and Washington increasingly treats any Chinese component inside them as a liability.

The logic is control over the stack. If AI is a strategic asset, the argument runs, the machines that train and serve it should not depend on parts made by a rival that could, in theory, disrupt or surveil them.

Enforcement is the hard part. Bans of this kind are routinely undercut by resellers, relabelled parts, and subsidiaries, and closing those loopholes is as much of the drafting work as naming the devices.

The gear most likely in the frame is the connective tissue of a data centre: networking switches, servers, storage, and the management chips inside them. Any of these could, in theory, carry a hidden path back to a foreign vendor.

Untangling it will not be instant. American operators still lean on Chinese components in places, and some networking and power equipment has few non-Chinese equivalents at the price and volume the buildout demands.

Washington has also been nudging allies to follow. Britain and others have weighed emulating its curbs, which would widen the market that Chinese vendors lose at a stroke.

Beijing has not taken the pressure quietly. China has threatened retaliation over the US robot ban, including leverage over the rare-earth minerals that Western manufacturers cannot easily source elsewhere.

The two sides are now trading restrictions in a familiar rhythm. Each ban invites a counter-ban, and a technology supply chain that took decades to knit together is being unpicked category by category.

The through-line is the AI race. The administration casts hardware decoupling as protecting the American AI buildout, the same rationale it uses to justify export controls on chips flowing the other way.

Hardware is only half of it. The administration has also weighed restrictions on Chinese AI models themselves, a move startups urged it not to make, warning that cutting off cheap open-weight models would hurt American developers more than China.

Bans carry a bill. Ripping Chinese devices out of data centres, or barring cheaper Chinese gear, raises costs for the operators racing to build capacity, a tension the industry has flagged even as it accepts the security case.

China, for its part, is building its own way around the same problem. A Chinese lab recently stood up a large data centre with no Nvidia inside, a sign of how completely both countries now want domestic control of the AI stack.

There is a cost to moving this fast, too. Rules drafted in a hurry can sweep in gear with no viable non-Chinese substitute, leaving operators to choose between breaking the rules and stalling their builds.

The rules would ripple well beyond the US. Vendors barred from American data centres lose one of the world’s largest markets, and any move by allies to follow multiplies the effect far past a single country.

The draft is not final, and the exact list of banned devices is still being written. But the direction is unmistakable: on both sides of the Pacific, the machinery of artificial intelligence is becoming something each superpower insists on building for itself.