The last section has already provided us with some insight into the perceived contagious potential of reclaimed water. For some authors, reclaimed water is essentially as pure as the water we drink (if not more so); for others, it is the equivalent of used toilet water or even a carrier of dangerous chemicals, as the following web posting argues...

Other people are concerned that harmful diseases may lurk in reclaimed water...

It is possible to determine the chemical content of reclaimed water, and these types of concerns could be tested empirically. If the water were shown to be as pure, or more pure, than the snow falling naturally on the Peaks, then we might be inclined to argue that people who see reclaimed-water-snowmaking as "peeing on the Peaks" [2] are in error. However, the point of this section is that there are some types of contamination which can not be detected by chemical analysis but which are nonetheless of great significance to the issue of snowmaking. These varieties of contamination are culturally constructed, they exit and are significant because people believe that they are, or rather, because these types of contagion are considered to be natural processes of the universe [3]. Just as people come to think of their moral values and core political ideologies as somewhat basic to human nature, if not to reality itself (humans or no humans), the average person’s familiarity with the levels of potential contagion in her or his environment seems rational and necessary from their own point of view.

The most basic type contagion that Americans concern themselves with is based in a modern understanding of germs and chemical contamination, a system which stems from a complex, Western cultural history of medicalization [4]. Since we are constantly aware of the need to avoid the blood and bodily fluids of strange people, to wash our produce and to avoid the sick (particularly in classroom settings), it is not hard to see the ways in which biological/chemical contagion-concerns play a role in our lives; the need to avoid biological/chemical contamination seems quite logical and justified. But in fact, many of our seemingly rational American contagion concerns are more based in a type of magical system than in a scientific one [5]. Consider the following concerns which speak to the nature of these sympathetically magical constructions...

In each of these examples, the following central idea of contagion is outlined: "essences" are being transferred from sources to recipients through some form of medium, essences which are in most cases invisible and which can linger for extended periods of time, if not indefinitely (Rozin and Nemeroff 1990: 206). These essences are perceived to have real world influences, many of which are negative. In summary, sympathetic contagion is not unlike a childhood game of cooties, "contagion tag", in which players avoid the essences of others [9]; this type of play may well prepare us to deal with other varieties of contagion in the real world, both of physical and cultural natures.

It is apparent that one significant aspect of the current conflict between people who support and resist snowmaking is a local, varying perspective on the contagious potential of reclaimed water. The following quotation sums up the position of those who do not have a problem with snowmaking...

Of course, when that author was asking for "scientific backing", he was referring to the physical sciences, not social science. While I do not make a case for or against snowmaking in this paper, I certainly offer this section as scientific backing for the argument that snowmaking is a form of desecration in that people are enculturated to believe that negative essences are potentially transmitted by reclaimed water [10]. In a recent debate with a devout positivist friend of mine, I tried to describe the ways in which contagion is perceived to exist (as a creation of culture) in the context of snowmaking. His response was simple, "If the water is scientifically determined to be chemically pure and free of germs then it is not contamination, and cultural constructions to the contrary are wrong" [11]. To put this into perspective for him, I asked him if he thought that most local Churches would be willing to use reclaimed water in baptismal fonts (see "Have respect for Peaks", 10/26/02 editorial). He did not think that they would, and I agree. Consider the following exchange in the Daily Sun web comments...

These perspectives are typical of the types of arguments I have encountered over the meanings of snowmaking. While some people who support snowmaking do not believe that reclaimed water is anything but pure water, in this case we see that each author is describing a "take" on something in the water. For author 1, this something is infused with the negative essences of Flagstaff’s toilets and the profanity of human excrement. Author 2 does not deny that a type of essence is carried by the water; it too derives from the context of waste but is rather seen as a healthy, imperceptible fertilizer. One significant aspect of author one’s text is his identification with Native America and his labeling of Flagstaff as the Anglo-Christian other. Author one is drawing upon a cultural history of conflict between "the white man" and "native americans" as a means to understand snowmaking; the conflict is seen as another chapter in an ongoing battle, and takes its meaning from the metaphors of the larger history. That the waste water comes from "the white other" is thus the equivalent of spreading "Angloness" onto Native American space, the reclaimed-water snow thus contains an infectious essence of cultural dominance that would not show up in any modern, physical analysis of the melt water [12]. Author two can not understand this perception, since he either rejects the significance of the cultural history between "whites" and "natives", or he is not aware of its semantic power or significance. Essentially, these authors are not arguing about the same thing, but rather are locked within their own cultural, etic prisons; there is no common unit of contagion that we can use to bring these sides into alignment. What is contagiously profane to one side is nurturing and healthy to the other. A differing cultural "take" on the nature of sacred space is also in conflict here and throughout the dialogue between "pro" and "con" in the context of snowmaking which the next section describes.

The last section provides us with a typical glimpse into differing cultural perceptions of what exactly is sacred in the snowmaking debate. There are two aspects of this conflict of spatial misunderstanding which we will discuss here: the American perception of "sacred" and the Christian perception of "sacred space". Each of these are, to various degrees, in conflict with culturally constructed, Native American perceptions of sacred space [13]. But before I address these cultural realities, consider the following dialogue...

There are several, powerfully ethnocentric opinions expressed in Randy Wilson’s text which are relevant to the general atmosphere of hostile misunderstanding surrounding snowmaking. In regard to the Peaks as Native sacred space, Wilson argues that since they are not under the direct control of the Navajo people, they can not be sacred. Furthermore, Wilson suggests that only the physical spaces within the current boundaries of the reservation could possibly be sacred. Thus, only the spaces allotted by the American Government are viable sacred spaces, the rest has been conquered, taken from the Navajo people, and transformed forever into American space! [14] Furthermore, Wilson mentions that "some Native Americans" see the Peaks as sacred space - the number is in fact at least 13 tribes! [15] Why would the fact that the Peaks are not on the Navajo reservation have anything to do with the level of sacredness the mountains hold for other Native Americans? From Wilson’s perspective the answer would be this: Native Americans are essentially "all the same" to him. This 19th century take on Native Americans as homogeneous and "equally inferior" is a common feature of the current dialogue on snowmaking as sacred space violation. As counter arguments to Native objections to snowmaking, we can find texts such as the following...

Local examples such as this homogenize native peoples and portray them as more capitalistic, more destructive (and thus more ridiculous) than other groups in American culture. Of course, this is not the case, but it seems to be a common local opinion [16]. Not only are Native Americans being portrayed as the stereotypical "white man", the group constructing this portrayal see themselves as the protectors of the environment. Thus, they embrace the "Indian as in touch with nature" stereotype, one usually applied to Native Americans. So while native peoples are seen as greedy and selfish, Flagstaff’s support-of-snowmaking middle class are portrayed as wanting to protect the peaks from fire dangers, water the forest, hydrate animals living on the peaks, fertilize indigenous plant life, and restore the water table [17]. The argument from the side supporting snowmaking is that they are more spiritual than the money-hungry Indian other. Actually, the white middle class population in support of snowmaking is no more or less spiritual than anyone else, they just have a different perception of what is sacred, a perception captured by the following quotations...

This take on sacredness involves the family enjoying nature and having fun together, it is a modern sense of the sacred disconnected from religion and tradition and focused on what people like to do. That thousands of people gather to the Peaks and enjoy themselves in a perceived type of "community" is sacred to these authors, sacred in that skiing and being in "the great outdoors" is important to them [18]. The sharp distinction in American culture between the Christian sacred and the cultural profane [19] is not a strong reality within local Native American cultures. In fact, as the following quotations show, such a dichotomous split between "culture" and "religion" makes little sense to local "first cultures" [20]...

Since the one most important aspect of Christian religion (generally speaking) is whether or not you believe in Jesus, since people can believe anywhere and practice Christianity in any setting, since being a Christian involves doing God’s work in all settings, from a Christian perspective, sacred space is where you make it. Any space can be temporarily or permanently transformed into sacred Christian space through gathering together to sing, play group sports, or to pray (for example). As in the case of prayerwalking [21], certain types of Christians can even go out into their communities on spiritual adventures and take back "evil" or "daemonic/satanic" spatial areas through prayer. Traditional Native American perceptions of sacred space are in opposition to these realities. They involve the basic idea that the sacred is permanently mapped onto the Earth, that it essentially always was but that destructive action can remove or suppress its sacred essence. One type of destructive action would be the construction of structures or features on the sacred space, particularly those of a modern, destructive, or large scale character (such as strip mines or ski slopes). Thus, when Daily Sun editor Randy Wilson pointed to the lack of structures on the mountains as an indication that they were not in fact sacred, he was simply demonstrating his own culturally biased perception. In fact, the abundance of structures would speak to a lack of sacredness. That shrines, ruins, or petroglyphs may currently exist on the Peaks (I am sure some do, see 03/04/02 posted web comment) would not negate my argument, since these features are, if nothing else, expressions of an era long before the current conflict of cultural assimilation and oppression. In a very real sense, pipes and snowmaking equipment carry the sympathetic essences of modern America, essences which can certainly erode away Native sacredness. Even if we forget for the moment the potential cultural contagion of reclaimed water, the fact that Snowbowl would need new pipes and new constructions to complete its expansion plan would itself be a desecration of sacredness. In combination with the negative potential meanings reclaimed water has for both native, and non-native peoples, the arguments against snowmaking can at least be understood as logical concerns. Consider the following expressions of sacred space...

Just as local peoples are trying to compare apples to orangutans when they discuss differing perceptions of contagion, we can see that local, differing, culturally constructed ideas of what sacred space means is contributing to one aspect of the overall misunderstanding between people in Flagstaff who want snowmaking to proceed and the native peoples who want to block it.

To close this section and introduce the next domain, I offer the following bit of text...

The next two domains are not the result of cultural misunderstandings, they are not due to a history of Western conflict (directly), but rather represent differing understandings of the role and impact of Snowbowl and of the environment.

Throughout the Daily Sun text from this year there exists a continuum of perceptions of the economic role of Snowbowl. At the extreme points of the continuum we find arguments which portray Snowbowl (and thus reclaimed water snowmaking) as either absolutely vital to the economy of Flagstaff, or as having nothing to do with the state of Flagstaff’s economy. Generally speaking, those who have a stake in the tourism industry (such as Ash Patel, the president of a local organization of innkeepers or the Daily Sun, who sells local advertising) argue for the vital role that tourism, and hence Snowbowl, plays in Flagstaff’s economic performance. Since I am not an economist and know little about business in general, I have no real feel for the effect a good ski season has on Flagstaff’s economy. It seems logical that there is some connection, but consider the following alternative perspectives...

Thus, the problem might not be that Flagstaff isn’t getting enough regular snowfall, it may be that the city is overly dependant upon tourism. If this is the case, then apparently the connection between snow and economy is not negligible [22]. Do we find ourselves in the unfavorable position, as the author above argues, of "poverty with a view?". In any case, to argue for snow as the single most important factor in a successful winter economy seems overly reductive. The success of local businesses, even those directly tied-in to tourism dollars, are dependant upon good customer services, the price and type of services or products offered, and so on. Using the example of the closure of Mountain Sports to illustrate this, we find two distinct opinions...

I have never understood the mechanics of "trickle down" economic strategies; if businesses like ski resorts and hotels will do well with a bit of snow there is no guarantee that we will all share in the wealth (in fact, I don’t see how we could). We may find ourselves with an abundance of steady, low paying jobs instead. Whether or not the economic benefits of snowmaking outweigh the potential social concerns is not easily determined, but I think the notion of "Snowbowl as economic hero", which appears throughout the local media, is unjustified. Snowbowl is simply trying to make money and snowmaking may help it to do just that.

This brings me to the central reality of snowmaking in Flagstaff, the major obstacle to efforts which seek to prevent the practice. It is a fact that Flagstaff treats all of the water that we use, whether or not all of it gets purchased. What does not get sold is released back into the natural water system, the Rio De Flag for example, and the city looses money on it. During warmer months, the city sells a large percentage of reclaimed water to golf courses for irrigation (79%); this water is not sold during the colder months [see Ron Doba’s power point notes, this website, for exact information]. Thus, if Snowbowl wants to buy the water at this time, the city of Flagstaff is all too happy to sell it. In fact, the City Council would be seen as negligent by the community if they did not sell as much reclaimed water as possible to Snowbowl or anyone else for that mater, particularly in the current economic climate (in any event, the Council has already decided to sell it). Furthermore, since Snowbowl will have to construct new pipe lines extending from approximately the intersection of Cedar and Highway 180, the city will be able to sell reclaimed water to new customers along the new route, thus extending services with a minimum of expenditure on infrastructure (since it is my lay understanding that Snowbowl, not Flagstaff, will pay for the majority of the new line up the Mountain).

The majority of the text within the Daily Sun data which supports snowmaking portrays the current trend in low snowfall as an illness which Flagstaff is currently suffering from. As if the natural cycles of Mother Nature were being medicalized in the tradition of Western medicine and treated as a medical problem [23], the current drought is seen as an illness which water treatment can cure.

The following expressions were used to describe this "consistent outcome" within the data: guaranteed ski season, steady winter season, predictable ski season, artificially extended season, consistent winter season, consistent and dependable ski season, assured winter sport facility.

Just as Western medicine is based on an unholistic, unicausal, paradigm, the idea that snowmaking will significantly jumpstart Flagstaff’s winter economy is not factoring in the larger picture of variables. These would include the seemingly infinite implications of the current "economic slowdown" and the political climate of post-9/11 America. Are people traveling, spending, and willing to ski as much as they were five years ago? Instead of keeping our focus on finding ways to sustain the current economic system, Flagstaff should broaden its horizons and consider altering the system itself. I am not suggesting that we drop the tourism industry, but why not try to add other types of industries that pay more? For some people, having a job at Snowbowl or a local hotel while attending NAU or Coconino is not a bad arrangement, but trying to rely on these types of jobs for a career is something else entirely.

The idea that nature, Mother Nature, or other spiritual forces are in need of our control is not a significant aspect of the anti-snowmaking argument. Consider the following...

These authors speak to an illness as well, a sickness of the natural world caused by a modern destruction of the environment. Snowmaking from this point of view is not a cure, but a cause of the systemic decay of nature [24]. Another idea which these authors propose is that snowmaking will have real world consequences brought about by spiritual forces. The phrase "playing God" evokes the sense that snowmaking is crossing a boundary meant to separate humans from the divine, the same boundary stonemasons in Christian myth ignored before the fall of Babel, or living travelers into Hades encounter in Greek myth as they touch the water from the river Styx. Given the perceived spiritual power that the Peaks contain, and the passion I have encountered in text and talk for the beings that live there, I wonder to what degree people are staying out of the debate over snowmaking because they know that in the end the spiritual powers will win. As one web posting explains,

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