Western State College of Colorado

wsc > academics > academic programs > water workshop

BACKGROUND READING

(Not the Conference Presentation, which was delivered extempore
but contained much of the same content )

An Arizona Water Buffalo looks at Arizona Water Development

Grady Gammage, Jr. 

The headquarters of the Central Arizona Project sits in obscurity at the far north end of the City. Since 9/11, the security fencing, entry procedures and out-of-the-way approach make it feel like the fortress of some James Bond villain who feeds failed henchmen to his pet piranha. Inside, a map of the canal system covers an entire wall, like a connect-the-dots painting, where LED's glow red or green to display the status of the pumps which move Arizona's water from the Colorado River, through Phoenix and on to Tucson.

I am driving back down into the City, having just left my last meeting after twelve years as a member of the Central Arizona Water Conservation District (“CAWCD”) Board of Directors. I got lost the first time I tried to get there and then walked into a room of strangers. The boardroom itself is a simple, unpretentious chamber with a large U-shaped table and an audience of 60-70 people. That first board meeting, I recognized almost no one. Today it feels like I am leaving a lot of old friends: the community of water buffaloes.

I do not know who started calling the few dozen people who make (and hopefully understand) Arizona 's water policy “water buffaloes.” Originally, the name probably referred to the fact that the group was mostly middle aged, male, and somewhat overweight engineers, lawyers and farmers who alike and spoke in acronyms. That is not true any more—there are a number of women, younger faces, even people of color. But the name sticks, maybe because water buffalo are slow moving, stubborn, and like wallowing in mud. I like to think of myself as a water buffalo, and consider it an earned honor.

Twelve years is a long time. Besides being able to sling acronyms with the best of them, what did I learn?

Of Drought, Crisis, Indians and Las Vegas .

Shortly after I was elected, the Secretary of the Interior declared the CAP canal “complete.” That declaration tripped a requirement that the price of water increase in order to recover the multi-billion dollar cost of construction. As a result, demand plummeted and we were awash in extra water we could not sell. For a time, it looked like Arizona would not use its full Colorado River allotment for decades. But as a result of lowering the price to encourage farming use, and inventing creative mechanisms to pump water 300 miles and then let it seep slowly underground, we managed in the last few years to use our full share.

We moved very quickly from a period where we seemed to have too much water to a time when we fret about not having enough. Such is the nature of life in the desert. Today, we are in the ninth year of what may become the record historic drought. But that does not mean we are in crisis. Our routine condition would be considered a catastrophic drought anywhere else in the country. We have built and maintain a sophisticated, elaborate water supply based on multiple sources precisely because we live in such a dry place. More than any other arid city in America (maybe in the world), metropolitan Phoenix has done a capable job of dealing with persistent aridity and the cycle of wet/dry years. This reality does not mean we have the luxury to waste water, but it does mean that we should not overreact and behave as though there is a desperate crisis when there is not. We should not turn off the decorative fountains at Phoenix

City Hall and elsewhere. We should not be telling people to turn off the water when brushing their teeth. The justification for these kinds of measures is that it is useful to create a psychological reminder of drought conditions, even though the actual “savings” are essentially meaningless. But what we communicate by such messages is that we are in a severe crisis. The public then does not understand how we can continue to approve new subdivisions. Token gestures, shallow slogans and manipulative public messages do not well serve the cause of understanding water issues. We need to thoroughly explain to the public the sources and quality of our water supply and speak in detail how we are dealing with drought in a way that keeps it from becoming a crisis.

Within the last month, Arizona has struck two extraordinary, complex and important deals: one with the Gila River Indian Community (“GRIC”) and the second with Las Vegas . Both represent creative water management at its best, and are the latest pieces of a long line of important actions by Arizona dealing with the big picture of Western Water. But it is hard for the public to grasp why we would be “giving” our water to keep the fountains on at Bellagio when we stopped running the ones in downtown Phoenix . Or why a relatively tiny population of Native American Arizonans should control nearly half of our Colorado River water.

The GRIC settlement, now signed into law by the President, resolves decades of litigation over the rights of the tribe to the waters of the Gila River . Under federal law, when the U.S. government created the reservations, it “reserved” enough water to the tribes to farm the irrigable land. The claim against the Gila (which we dried up to create the Salt River Project) was arguably huge—it hung as an unquantified threat over all water management in Central Arizona . Theoretically, if finally adjudicated and demanded for delivery, that claim would have required taking back water from metropolitan Phoenix cities. By using CAP water to settle the claim, we ended the uncertainty, reduced our repayment to the federal government and resolved the litigation. Until the GRIC can actually take delivery of the water, the CAP will resell it for recharge to our depleted aquifers. In the future, the GRIC will either use it to farm (which is a good thing) or lease it back to Arizona cities that need additional supply.

The Las Vegas deal involves a fraction of the amount of water in the GRIC settlement, but it is enough water to tide that city over until a time when their in-state resources are developed. Because Las Vegas has no agricultural heritage, they are decades behind Arizona in water development. The 40,000 acre feet per year we have guaranteed to Las Vegas is a commitment we can satisfy without jeopardy to our needs. In exchange, we receive serious money, but more importantly we gain an ally in the great game of western water. We may call upon that allegiance in revisiting our low priority in times of shortage.

Water is a Special Commodity .

When I first got on the CAWCD Board, like many private-sector, free-market capitalists, I saw no reason why water should be different from other commodities. It seemed clear that with a few exceptions, markets should be allowed to operate, prices should be uncontrolled, and the highest bidder should be able to obtain the most water. Bob Robb recently articulated a similar view in his thoughtful column of December 19.

After twelve years of observing the unusual little bastion of American socialism that is water policy, I have come to the realization that water is unique. Like air, water is absolutely necessary to sustain life. But water is also a resource that can be contained, hoarded, and transported. Its use evolves over decades. Its price cannot be subject to extreme volatility. The infrastructure costs to develop water in this kind of climate are huge, and not easily subject to a hard nosed investment analysis. Water is the ultimate communal commodity. It must be shared

among a large enough group to pay for the infrastructure to manage it. That group becomes our tribe—“us”—those outside who want our water become “them.”

Water also is not just the single fluid substance you hold in a plastic bottle. An essential component of water is not just what you have, but your right to get more in the future. Water that has high delivery reliability is worth a lot more than water that can be cut off. Water that is used for drinking, cooking, bathing, showering, needs to be cheap enough for any family to afford. Water that is used for aesthetic and decorative purposes should be priced higher. Water that is wasted should be priced in a way that discourages waste. Water that can be taken away from a user (like a farmer) in times of severe need should be priced more cheaply. This kind of complex pricing function is not easily accommodated by purely private markets. There is a stronger role for pricing in water management. Water is too cheap in metropolitan Phoenix . There is a role for private water markets, but there is an inherent community role in managing the price and delivery of this unique commodity.

Government is Not All Bad.

Arizonans deeply believe in the American perspective that the less government, the better. We sometimes interpret that to mean that no government would be best of all. There are some things that only government can accomplish. Government can spread societal costs more broadly than any private enterprise. It can think longer term than any profit-motivated actor. Sometimes only government can manage negative externalities like environmental impact, structuring ways to avoid the “tragedy of the commons,” where individual rational action leads to collective damage. Water management is one of these primarily governmental activities.

Water management is rooted in social evolution. Every society treats the handling of water as part of the function of some kind of governmental unit. Indeed, a case can be made that government may have been first created in the arid regions of the Middle East precisely because of the need to manage water distribution systems and resolve water disputes.

Just before Christmas, the Colorado River Water Users Association met in Las Vegas to talk about how the Colorado River is shared, managed and allocated. Some private interests were at the table, but by and large the conversation is between seven individual states, the United States , and a series of local governments including cities and special districts. Even within a single state like Arizona , the handling of our share of “The River” is a discussion among dozens of different governmental entities.

It looks like a confusing, overlapping, redundant example of government inefficiency. That's why it works. Decisions unfold slowly after being vetted in the crucible of chaotic democracy. Change happens in small increments, but then mistakes happen in small increments, too.

Water management is our State's greatest governmental success story. It is a success because we have been able to cooperate about water management for more than a hundred years. It has been—and must continue to be—recognized as a legitimate function of government where we should raise and spend the collective revenues necessary to do a good job. The federal government repeatedly helped us make it a success: the “Feds” are not always the bad guys. Most of all, it is a success because generations of Arizonans have regarded it as a matter of common public interest. Policy has prevailed over politics. That continues to be true to this day.

Water buffaloes are ponderous, slow moving, stubborn, jealously guard their turf and usually move as a herd. Our public policy has benefited from those qualities. Long may they wallow in the mud.