France's Snow Economy: A Model on Its Last Legs?

How can entire valleys survive when the snow on which the economy has relied for years becomes increasingly uncertain?

Since the “Snow Plan” of the 1960s, resorts have profoundly reshaped mountain spaces. Ski lifts, roads, second homes, water and sanitation networks: the mountains were equipped to welcome more and more skiers, in an era when energy was cheap, snow abundant, and biodiversity largely absent from public debate.

Today, this model is challenged by rising temperatures.

The IPCC (Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change) projections are quite clear: the altitude at which snow is found is rising. By 2050Only certain high-altitude resorts (Tignes, Val-Thorens, Chamonix, Val-d’Isère, etc.) should retain, in the short term, enough snow cover to maintain regular skiing activity.

For much of the Southern Alps, Jura, Vosges, and Pyrenees, the situation is less certain. According to a 2007 OECD (Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development) study, still regularly used as a reference by institutions, a ski area can only be economically viable if it reaches a minimum of 100 days of operation per year. A threshold that is becoming increasingly difficult to meet: winters are too mild, precipitation more often falls as rain, and thaw episodes are more frequent.

This is currently leading to a multiplication of closures. And with them, a new landscape is appearing in the French mountain ranges: abandoned ski lifts, dilapidated buildings, isolated pylons. Ghost resorts, visible scars of a collapsing model. But are all resorts doomed to end this way? Can we still develop alternatives?

Two paths are emerging for the resorts in response to this problem.

The first approach is to redirect the economic model by reducing dependence on alpine skiing and developing “four-season” activities. This is the path taken by resorts like Métabief in the Jura, which invests in outdoor leisure activities accessible year-round without relying on snow: mountain biking trails, hiking, rail sledding… Skiing is maintained but without massive new investments. A gradual, more resilient transition that accepts climate change instead of denying it, but not always suited to environmental challenges such as biodiversity loss and the need to reduce our energy consumption.

In winter, activities like ski touring ski touring : booming and requiring no heavy infrastructure, follows the natural lines of the mountain and attracts a growing audience seeking authenticity. 

This practice could become the core of a new model, lighter economically and ecologically, provided certain good practices are followed to preserve biodiversity.

The second path, often combined with the first, is the headlong rush: maintaining skiing at all costs by investing in artificial snowmaking. Today, the vast majority of Alpine ski areas are equipped with snow cannons. What was once a temporary solution (securing the bottom of certain slopes) has become a survival condition. Entire ski areas are now covered with artificial snow, and equipment is installed ever higher.

When skiing down a white and perfectly smooth slope, it’s easy to forget what it represents: a heavy, systematic, and energy-intensive intervention on the environment.

Artificial snow is four times denser than natural snow. It compacts the soil aided by the work of snow groomers, delays melting, reduces thermal insulation, and slows the vegetation cycle. Sonja Wipf, a plant ecologist at WSL and SLF in Switzerland, and her team observed an approximately 11% loss of plant species in areas under snow-covered slopes compared to neighboring areas.

The wildlife is also impacted: in winter, a period when animals need to conserve their energy, areas equipped with snowmakers are noisier, more frequented, and therefore avoided. Hares, chamois, deer, birds... move away from these areas, while hillside reservoirs (water storage basins) can become traps for amphibians and dry out natural wetlands.

But the most critical point remains water. Artificial snowmaking requires drawing large quantities from streams and aquifers... precisely at the time when their flow rates are lowest. The Court of Auditors already points out that some resorts see their snow production limited by resource depletion, with a growing risk of competition with drinking water and other land uses (agriculture, etc.).

And the irony is harsh: the lack of snow, partly caused by an energy-intensive model, is compensated by a technology that is itself very energy-intensive. A vicious circle that, in the long run, will become ineffective anyway: when temperatures are too high, the snow cannons will no longer work.

Beyond environmental impacts, it is the economic viability of alpine skiing itself that is faltering. The alpine ski market is reaching maturity: interest is declining, snow seasons are becoming rarer, the housing stock is aging while infrastructure maintenance costs continue to rise.

This reality clashes with a major social issue: resorts generate, directly or indirectly, about 120,000 jobs in the French mountain ranges. A whole local economy depends on this "white gold" that is becoming increasingly rare. But it is precisely this dependence that poses a problem.

The transition is therefore no longer an option: it is inevitable. But it can also be an opportunity. The real question is whether we will choose to anticipate it and make it a regional project, or whether we will endure it in urgency.

Artificially maintaining resort skiing as we know it is a short-term solution that jeopardizes the future. Rather than risking turning the mountain into a museum of tourist ruins, we have the opportunity to reinvent these regions.

The urgency is not to save all skiing at any cost. It is to support regions toward other, more resilient models before it is too late. Examples like Métabief show that another path is possible. But it requires political courage, anticipation, and acceptance of a disturbing truth: we cannot force the mountain to bend to our desires. It is up to us to adapt to it, not the other way around.

This transition is not an end in itself, but the beginning of a new model to build together. Mountain regions reinvented themselves after the war by focusing on skiing; they will be able to do so again by developing tourism that is more sustainable, more diverse, and more respectful. Climate change forces all of us to rethink our practices. It is an opportunity to redefine our relationship with the mountain.

Because let's remember that the mountain is not a playground at our disposal. It is a living, fragile environment that welcomes us. This privilege calls for our responsibility. Respect marked trails, leave no trace of our passage, observe wildlife from a distance, adapt our practices during sensitive periods for biodiversity: these simple actions show a renewed awareness. The mountain of tomorrow will be the one we choose to preserve today. Not by controlling it, but by learning to live with it, respecting its rhythm and limits.