Admittedly, it’s become more and more difficult for me to keep a leash on my cynicism as Utah politicians and corporate powerbrokers continue to wash their grandiose development proposals in a shower of born-again environmentalism.

Although I find nothing funny in the latest land-grab shenanigans proposed by the newly-formed “Lift Utah” coalition, its public-relations spin on how construction of the interconnect “SkiLink” gondola between Canyons Resort and Solitude Mountain Resort will be, according to their recent news conference, “a net positive for the environment,” totally cracks me up.

Not being as up to speed on sustainability accounting as others in our midst, I’m most interested in how the ecology on the hillsides in question will be upgraded by the planting of lift towers rather than trees.

The problem I have with all this is the old “when is enough, enough?” At this point, it really matters little to me whether or not the lift installation qualifies as a “positive development,” that it has net-positive ecological impact beyond what sustainability gurus refer to as “pre-settlement conditions.”

As part of their charge toward hosting another Olympic Winter Games and becoming the winter sports capital of our neighborhood here along the inner edge of this particular spiral arm of the Milky Way galaxy, connecting the major ski resorts in the Cottonwood canyons with those in Park City appears to be an imperative. There’s an overwhelming sense of entitlement with these guys (surprise! surprise!), like they’re invoking Manifest Destiny.

Ironies aplenty, however, still prevail. To hear the coalition tell it, installing this initial segment of the interconnect (oh, there will indeed be more, to be sure!) will, once the “net positives” kick in, do everything from lower greenhouse gases, provide jobs, bring untold millions of dollars into the local economy, and, among other windfalls, solve local budget shortfalls by the infusion of increased tax revenue.

To the point that déja vu is setting in, the whole spiel reminds me of when The Boyer Company lobbied the Heber City Council (“bought” would probably be too strong a word) to allow Walmart to re-sculpt our once-somewhat-quaint southern entryway.

All notions of coincidence, however, quickly evaporated once I noticed near the top of the “Lift Utah” coalition member list the name of founder and chairman Roger Boyer himself. Whoda thunkit? Go figure!

Another sort of flashback harkens to the good old days of Orrin Hatch and Earl Holding performing their sleight-of-hand land swap up at Snowbasin in the run-up to the 2002 Winter Games.

This time around, it’s all the Republicans in the Utah congressional delegation introducing legislation to require the U.S. Forest Service to sell 30 acres in Big Cottonwood canyon to Talisker in order to remove any governmental speed bumps the Canadian company might have to deal with in stretching its gondola line from Canyons down to Solitude.

At the same time, however, the lone Democrat in the Utah delegation, Congressman Jim Matheson, introduced the Wasatch Wilderness and Watershed Protection Act to the U.S. House of Representatives, a piece of legislation that would increase wilderness protection to over 26,000 acres of Wasatch Front watershed including the canyons in question.

Supporting Matheson’s amendment are Salt Lake City, Salt Lake County, Save Our Canyons, Snowbird Ski Resort, and, seemingly, according to a 2010 “Envision Utah” study, 94 percent of Salt Lake County residents who oppose further ski resort expansion in the Wasatch Front canyons.

Protecting the watershed up Big Cottonwood is the major rallying point against the interconnect concept in this current global-climate environment with its inherent shrinkage of snowpack, especially when coupled with one of the nation’s fastest growing population centers. Absolutely no problem as far as the coalition’s concerned. They’ve got this “net-positive” thing down.

Admittedly, I’m never very objective when it comes to the transfer of public lands for the “greater good of humanity,” which, seemingly, is the only way these things are ever packaged. I see little depth to the corporate rhetoric that most always accompanies such proposals.

As a longtime resort skier, I’m certainly no organic gorp-eating, mantra-chanting, Zen-spouting outdoorsman. I lack the necessary discipline, or I’d probably apply for my card. It’s just that I find the backcountry set to be much more in touch with these mountains than I, and see no reason why they should be infringed upon any further by profit motive clad in the garb of yet one more widespread solution to the problems of the day.

As has been said, the Cottonwood canyons SkiLink interconnect proposal is not an idea whose time has come. It’s an idea whose time has come and gone! You might be able to find something with less appeal and cheaper at Walmart, but I doubt it.

Jay Meehan is a culture junkie and an observer, participant, and chronicler of the Park City and Wasatch County social scenes for the past 40 years.