💧 Water-Positive or Greenwashing? The Fight for Transparency in Pima County's Biggest Development Deal | BUCKMASTER
From sustainable vineyards to secretive surveillance capitalism—the Buckmaster Show exposes the contradictions of desert democracy
Based on the Buckmaster Show for 6/30/25, a daily radio show in Tucson, AZ, interviewing local newsmakers. Analysis and opinions are my own.
😽 Keepin’ It Simple Summary for Younger Readers
👧🏾✊🏾👦🏾
🌵 Arizona has a cool success story about making wine in the desert 🍇 and a concerning controversy about building data centers. 🏢 The wine business got way better after 2007 when the state changed laws that let small wineries sell their own products instead of going through big companies. 🍷 A former Air Force pilot named Mark Beres started Flying Leap winery ✈️ and proved you can grow grapes using way less water than other crops 💧 while creating good jobs.
👨🌾 But there's drama about a huge data center project called Project Blue 📈 where county supervisors had to make decisions without being able to talk publicly about it because of secret contracts they didn't even sign. 🔒 The timing was terrible because right after they approved it, the electric company announced big rate increases.
⚡ Now people are questioning whether this data center will really help the environment like promised 🌍 or just make utility bills higher while a few corporations get richer. 💸
🗝️ Takeaways
🍇 Arizona's wine industry exploded after 2007 legislation broke corporate distribution monopolies, allowing small producers to control their entire value chain
💧 Grapevines use only 1/5 the water of traditional crops like corn, proving sustainable agriculture can thrive in desert conditions
🏛️ Project Blue's approval process violated democratic norms by binding elected officials to NDAs they never signed, preventing public discussion
⚡ TEP's 14% rate hike announcement immediately after data center approval created a public relations disaster, even though supposedly unrelated
🏠 Pima County faces a 70,000+ affordable housing unit shortage over the next 20 years, while 27% of the budget still goes to law enforcement
📊 Overdose deaths exceeded 500 in Pima County—a 7% increase, showing an ongoing public health crisis
🔒 Corporate NDAs now apparently supersede democratic transparency requirements for elected officials' public discussions
From Grapes to Data Centers: How Pima County's Development Dreams Reveal the Contradictions of Desert Capitalism
When former military officers start making wine and data centers promise to be "water-positive," you know we're living in some seriously late-stage capitalist times.
The June 30th Buckmaster Show delivered a masterclass in modern Arizona contradictions—where entrepreneurial environmental stewardship collides with surveillance capitalism's thirsty demands, all wrapped up in the kind of bureaucratic bungling that would make Kafka weep into his morning coffee.
The Sweet Taste of Liberation: Flying Leap's Vertical Victory
Mark Beres, president and CEO of Flying Leap Hospitality Group, represents everything progressive about Arizona's agricultural evolution. This former Air Force Academy graduate, turned test pilot, turned vintner, embodies the kind of career pivot that actually serves the community rather than corporate overlords.
Beres painted a compelling picture of Arizona's wine industry transformation, rooted in a legislative victory that broke the stranglehold of the three-tier alcohol distribution system. "Arizona's wine industry is small, relatively speaking," he acknowledged, but emphasized the experimental energy and investment flowing into the sector.
The Prohibition Plot Twist: How "Repeal" Actually Entrenched Corporate Control
Here's where Beres dropped a historical bombshell that should fundamentally reshape our understanding of American alcohol policy:
"A lot of Americans don't understand that prohibition did not end."
Wait, what? Didn't we all learn in school that the 21st Amendment repealed Prohibition? Turns out that's just another sanitized civics lesson that obscures how power actually works.
As Beres explained: "Prohibition still exists. And the only thing that changed was that the federal government got out of the prohibition business, and they pushed it back to the states."
Before Prohibition, territorial Arizona operated under true free-market conditions, which, predictably, created chaos. "There was no law," Beres noted.
"You could produce whiskey, you could produce wine, you could produce really anything you wanted, you could distribute it and sell it however you felt necessary. And so whiskey became cheaper than water."
The social consequences were devastating for working families. Miners would "stop off and play roulette. And you were hitting the whiskey. By the time you got home, there was nothing left to buy food and shoes for the kids."
Sound familiar? It's the same pattern we see today with gambling, payday loans, and other predatory industries targeting working communities.
But here's the crucial part: when Prohibition was "repealed," states didn't return to the pre-Prohibition free-for-all.
Instead, they created the three-tier system—what Beres described as "legal walls between the production of alcohol, the distribution of alcohol, and the sale of alcohol." This bureaucratic maze essentially handed distribution monopolies to middlemen while producers struggled to survive.
Classic capitalism—solving one problem by creating regulatory capture that benefits a different set of rent-seekers. Instead of chaos, we got controlled extraction.
"One of the problems it created, though, is that it really put the power and the money in the hands of the distribution side of the house," Beres explained. "Producers couldn't afford to produce profitably. So a lot of them went out of business."
The result? "This is how you ended up with massive beer companies and massive wine and spirits companies, because a lot of them had to join forces in order to stay viable."
Meanwhile, consumers got royally screwed: "Rather than paying 10 cents for a shot of whiskey... the price went up a thousand fold."
So prohibition didn't end—it just got outsourced to state governments, who designed systems that enriched distributors while gouging consumers and crushing small producers. It's almost as if the entire "free market" mythology is just a cover for whatever arrangement benefits the most powerful players.
But here's where it gets interesting for those of us fighting for economic democracy: Arizona's 2007 legislative exemption for small wineries (under 18,000 gallons) created space for true vertical integration.
"Provided that your wine production was below 18,000 gallons, you could produce wine, you could distribute wine yourself and then you could sell wine yourself," Barris explained.
Flying Leap's model offers a blueprint for resisting corporate consolidation. They control their entire value chain—growing grapes in Wilcox, producing wine at their Elgin facility, and selling through their own tasting rooms and newly acquired restaurants (Vero Amore and Noble Hops). This isn't just business strategy; it's economic sovereignty in action.
Water Wisdom vs. Corporate Waste
Perhaps most crucial for our drought-stricken region is the water reality Barris revealed. Grapevines use "less than one acre foot per acre, which is about a fifth of the water use of corn and cereal crops."
He emphasized that "grapevines are ideally suited for the desert" and "the less water that we use, the more the grapes struggle and produce better wine."
Let me get this straight—we can grow crops that actually thrive on water stress while producing a value-added product that supports local restaurants and tourism? And this took us until 2007 to figure out? Sometimes I wonder if we're collectively allergic to good ideas.
This stands in stark contrast to Arizona's historical agricultural choices—like growing water-hungry alfalfa to ship to Saudi Arabia while lecturing residents about conservation. Flying Leap's approach demonstrates how agriculture can work with our desert environment rather than against it.
Project Blue's Murky Waters: When Data Centers Meet Democracy
Then we dove into the dystopian depths of Project Blue—a data center development that perfectly illustrates how corporate power subverts democratic processes.
Pima County Supervisor Dr. Matt Heinz, calling from Normandy (must be nice to escape Arizona summer while the rest of us sweat through yet another record-breaking heat dome), unpacked this bureaucratic nightmare with refreshing honesty.
The timeline alone reads like a masterclass in political tone-deafness:
Supervisors approve controversial data center project in narrow 3-2 vote
TEP immediately announces 14% rate hike
Water rate increases follow shortly after
Public outrage ensues
"It's the worst rollout of anything ever," Heinz admitted, calling the timing "really, I don't know who designed this, but it's the worst rollout of anything ever on creation."
The NDA Nightmare: When Democracy Goes Dark
Here's where things get constitutionally concerning. Heinz revealed that elected officials were bound by non-disclosure agreements they never signed.
"None of the elected officials signed this," he clarified, but "the Procurement Director for Pima County has the authority when they're... exploring, going someplace, they want to kind of keep things... close, hold close to the chest."
So let me understand this correctly—unelected bureaucrats can gag elected representatives from discussing public business with the constituents who elected them? This isn't just problematic; it's a direct assault on democratic governance.
Heinz rightfully questioned this arrangement: "I did not know that the Procurement Director by themselves can bind all five elected supervisors, which I find to be constitutionally problematic because I serve the almost 20,000 people of District 2. Those are my employees, right?"
This reveals a fundamental tension in how surveillance capitalism operates—demanding secrecy and special treatment while extracting public resources and imposing private costs on communities.
The Water Positive Promise: Too Good to Be True?
Despite the procedural problems, Heinz defended the project based on its environmental commitments.
"This will be the only data center I know of... in the country that will be once it's fully operational, water positive," he claimed. The project allegedly includes "18 miles of purple pipe, that 24-inch caliber pipe that's reclaimed water that they're going to be accelerating our reclaimed water infrastructure in the city of Tucson by like, I think, a decade or more."
Color me skeptical. We've heard corporate environmental promises before—usually right before companies find creative ways to externalize costs while privatizing profits. But hey, maybe this time will be different.
Heinz emphasized the developer's conservation focus: "Having someone come at this from such an environmental stewardship perspective, conservation was like the first, second and third thing that they talked about."
The Broader Context: What This Means for Working Families
While political elites debate data centers and wine distribution, real crises continue devastating our communities. Heinz reported "over 500 deaths, it's a 7% increase in Pima County" from overdoses—a public health emergency that receives far less attention than corporate development deals.
The county's budget priorities tell the story of misplaced values. Despite housing costs crushing working families, "27 percent of the approximately 800 million dollars that we can actually do stuff with... is still going to law enforcement, the sheriff."
Meanwhile, Heinz's affordable housing initiative—generating 12,000-13,000 units over a decade—represents "about a third of the way there for that first decade" toward meeting actual need.
So we can fast-track secret data center deals but affordable housing gets crumbs from the budgetary table. Priorities, people. Priorities.
The Housing Crisis Reality
Heinz outlined the scale of our housing emergency: "over the next 20 years we're looking at a deficit of probably 70 to 75,000 affordable housing units." The county's response? A modest property tax increase generating "250 million dollars over 11 years" for affordable housing development.
For perspective, this $23 million annual investment pales compared to corporate subsidies regularly handed out for economic development. Because apparently housing working families is less important than attracting companies that promise jobs paying wages insufficient to afford housing.
The Real Questions We Should Be Asking
This tale of two developments—sustainable wine production and questionable data centers—reveals fundamental choices about our region's future. Flying Leap demonstrates how businesses can prosper while working with desert ecology. Project Blue represents surveillance capitalism's extractive model dressed up in environmental rhetoric.
The contrast is instructive:
Flying Leap's Model:
Locally owned and operated
Environmentally sustainable
Transparent community engagement
Creates middle-class jobs
Supports local food systems
Project Blue's Model:
Externally controlled capital
Unproven environmental claims
Secretive development process
Unclear local benefit
Serves global data extraction
One builds community wealth; the other extracts it. One works with our environment; the other promises to overcome it through technological fixes. One engages democratically; the other demands secrecy and special treatment.
Indigenous Perspective: Same Colonization, New Technology
As an Indigenous Chicano watching these developments, the patterns feel depressingly familiar. Corporations arrive promising prosperity while demanding resource access and regulatory exemptions. Communities get divided between those desperate for any economic development and those questioning whether the benefits justify the costs.
The data center model particularly troubles me because it represents surveillance capitalism's latest frontier expansion. These facilities don't just consume massive resources—they enable the digital infrastructure that monitors, tracks, and manipulates human behavior for profit.
How fitting that this extractive technology wants to plant itself next to our fairgrounds—the community space where we gather for celebration and connection. The symbolism writes itself.
Meanwhile, Flying Leap's approach offers hope because it builds on Indigenous knowledge about working with desert ecology rather than against it. Their water-efficient viticulture echoes traditional agricultural practices that sustained communities here for millennia.
Moving Forward: Democracy, Development, and Desert Futures
The Project Blue controversy exposes how corporate power undermines democratic governance through procedural manipulation and information asymmetry. When elected officials can't discuss public business because of NDAs they didn't sign, we've abandoned representative democracy for corporate oligarchy.
But Flying Leap's success demonstrates alternative paths forward—businesses that create community wealth while respecting environmental limits. Their vertical integration model offers lessons for other sectors seeking to escape corporate consolidation's grip.
The choice isn't between development and stagnation—it's between development that serves communities versus development that extracts from them.
Getting Involved: Your Voice Matters
This isn't just political theater—these decisions shape our daily lives. Rising utility rates, housing costs, and environmental degradation directly impact working families while corporate executives retreat to air-conditioned boardrooms.
Here's how you can engage:
Immediate Actions:
Contact Tucson City Council members before they vote on Project Blue annexation
Attend Pima County Board meetings to demand transparent development processes
Support locally-owned businesses like Flying Leap that practice sustainable development
Join housing advocacy organizations pushing for stronger affordability requirements
Long-term Engagement:
Vote in local elections (where your individual vote carries more weight)
Run for office or support candidates who prioritize community needs over corporate profits
Build alternative economic institutions through cooperatives and community land trusts
Stay Informed: Support independent journalism that holds power accountable—like this Three Sonorans Substack analysis you're reading right now. Corporate media won't connect these dots because their advertisers benefit from the current system.
Subscribe to Three Sonorans to keep getting this kind of critical analysis that mainstream media won't provide. Your support keeps this essential community journalism alive.
Seeds of Hope in Desert Soil
Despite the frustrations of fighting surveillance capitalism's latest incursion, Flying Leap's success offers genuine hope. When former military officers become environmental entrepreneurs, when desert agriculture proves more sustainable than industrial monocultures, when vertical integration creates community wealth—these aren't just business stories. They're proof that different futures remain possible.
The challenge lies in scaling these models while resisting corporate co-optation. Every dollar spent at locally-owned businesses, every vote cast for community-minded candidates, every voice raised in public meetings—these actions accumulate into systemic change.
The desert teaches patience and persistence. Seeds wait years for the right conditions to sprout, but when they do, they transform landscapes. Our organizing efforts follow similar patterns—slow growth building toward transformative blooms.
Project Blue's secretive development process represents everything wrong with how power operates in late capitalism. But our response—demanding transparency, questioning environmental claims, insisting on community benefit—represents democracy's regenerative potential.
The grapes are growing, the questions are multiplying, and the people are watching. That's how change begins.
What Do You Think?
The intersection of sustainable development and surveillance capitalism raises crucial questions for our desert democracy. Share your thoughts below and help us build the community conversation these issues demand.
Two questions to consider:
Should elected officials ever be bound by corporate NDAs when making decisions about public resources and community development?
How can we distinguish between genuine environmental stewardship and "greenwashing" when evaluating large development projects like data centers?
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It's hard to believe that three Pima County Supervisors voted for Project Blue. In addition to Matt Heins, Steve Christy and Rex Scott voted to approve it.
After the Project Blue fiasco, the supervisors voted to ask staff to revise the policies on RDA's and to produce a policy to require environmental impact reviews for economic development projects.
The city of Tucson needs to have the same policies in place.