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In 1998, Yellowknife was facing a very uncertain future. The impending birth of Nunavut in 1999 meant a 40 percent reduction in the territorial budget. Giant Mine was teetering on receivership. Con Mine's closing was in the rumour mill.

One of those sounding the alarm was Mayor Dave Lovell who worried the mine closures would mean the end of lucrative property taxes and hundreds of employees leaving town.

He wasn't alone. The Yellowknife business community was just as worried. The lone diamond mine in the barrens, Ekati, was built but Diavik was years away.

Diamond cutting and polishing factories offered a hope of diversifying Yellowknife's economy, filling the void created by the crumbling gold pillars that had propped the city up since the 1930s. Problem was, the federal government was not worried about the Northern economy nor excited by the secondary diamond industry. The territorial government was forced to go hat in hand to the diamond mines asking them to volunteer a share of their diamond production at market value.

The mining companies were reluctant to share given the proven services of long-established cutting and polishing companies in Europe. The practice of grouping high-value diamonds with lower-value diamonds to increase profits also played a role in keeping high-value diamonds going to Europe instead of Yellowknife.

Still, Lovell, backed by city council, and the Yellowknife business community, together formed a Yellowknife Diamond Industry Task Force and fought for the industry, both at home and in Ottawa. The fruits of their labours hit a peak in 2004-05 with 200 workers at four factories.

Now the numbers are much lower, less than 50 workers at two factories.

The good news is, the cutting and polishing industry has sprouted in another fledgling diamond town - Sudbury - with a Yellowknife connection.

De Beers has a mine north of Sudbury and has agreed to supply Crossworks Manufacturing with an estimated $25 million, or 10 percent by value of the mine's diamond production. Crossworks has a small cutting and polishing factory in Yellowknife with 11 workers and expects to hire 50 workers in Sudbury.

That magic figure of 10 percent is what Yellowknife's polishing industry was supposed to be given access to by the three diamond mines - Ekati, Diavik, and De Beers.

Without ironclad agreements, that never happened. What exactly did happen the public will never know. The mines cloak the supply lines in secrecy, which serves their purposes but confuses governments attempting to grow an industry. Cutting and polishing companies who also know what's offered have to hold their tongues for fear of losing the supply they do have.

In a tightly controlled market like diamonds, supply is everything. Yellowknife was never offered anything close to the 10 per cent in the watery "gentlemen's agreements." As the mines pull about $1.5 billion worth of diamonds out of the NWT's ground every year, we should have access to $150 million worth, five times what's being offered in Sudbury, potentially creating 300 jobs.

For Yellowknife, even 200 jobs would shore up the tax base and allow the city to expand into the quality of life gem council wants it to be. What's needed is another Yellowknife Diamond Industry Task Force to focus the energy and bright political, government and business minds of the city on reviving a promising industry.

Things that seem too good to be true often are, and this might be the case for the fabled one-rate power zone.

The idea of a one-rate zone for all residents of the NWT was raised at the public forum on the NWT Electricity Review held in Fort Simpson on April 8. Most of the residents who spoke during the forum voiced their support for the implementation of a one-rate zone.

This isn't the first time that the idea has been raised.

A one-rate zone has been like a holy grail for the Deh Cho. The idea has been brought forward numerous times and sought after by many but never obtained. Its proponents are sure that having it would solve a lot of problems for residents of the small communities, and it's easy to follow their reasoning.

In the public discussion paper on the review the government published, equitable cost distribution is listed as a point to consider. According to the math, if costs across the North were averaged out, rates in the NWT would be approximately 31 cents per kilowatt hour.

According to one-rate supporters, if the community of Nahanni Butte, for instance, was suddenly able to pay 31 cents compared to the 166.40 cents, the second-highest rate in the territory, they currently pay, a lot of residents would probably rejoice. If residents of Fort Smith, on the other had, were forced to pay 31 cents instead of their current rate, the lowest in the territory, of 16.36 they'd likely stage a revolt.

This line of argument paints the one-rate zone as battle between diesel-generated communities who want it for the cost savings it would bring, and hydro communities who oppose it because it would raise their rates.

But what if it wasn't that simple? The old saying of "be careful what you wish for" could apply to the one-rate zone.

Most residents of Nahanni Butte don't actually pay 166.40 cents per kilowatt hour. Thanks to the Territorial Power Support Program (TPSP), residents are subsidized for the first 700 kilowatt hours to the Yellowknife rate, which is currently 26.03 cents.

According to the Northwest Territories Power Corporation, approximately 80 per cent of its customers use less than 700 kilowatt hours per month.

The real savings associated with the one-rate zone rest on what happens to the TPSP. If everyone in the territory, including Yellowknife, was paying 31 cents in a one-rate zone, the subsidy could end. How, after all, can you subsidize to a rate that no longer exists?

Thirty-one cents is more than 26.03 cents, so residents of all the communities, even those with power rates that are currently high, would actually find their power bills had increased. The only people who might see a savings are the 20 per cent who use more than 700 kilowatt hours because they already pay a high price for their extra usage. Without the TPSP, the one-rate power zone idea suddenly looks less like the holy grail and more like a poisoned cup.

Residents of the diesel-generated communities are right to be looking for ways to decrease their power bills, but consequences of the plans they suggest need to be thought through very carefully.

I know it's been two weeks to the day that the Olympic committee and the premier strolled into town to announce something about a new partnership. If I sound somewhat vague, then you'll have to excuse me.

Maybe I was distracted by the blazing mascots and endless hyperbole.

Anyway, I'm pretty sure it had something to do with showcasing the NWT: its people, culture, business opportunities in Vancouver for everyone on a global scale to celebrate.

That's a great idea. I have no problem with that.

I just couldn't understand why a huge celebratory jam was orchestrated to announce such a thing, especially when so few details about the deal were forthcoming. No press release. No nothing.

Premier Floyd Roland was quick to acknowledge that the $2.5 million of your tax money that's paying for this partnership is well worth it. But when pressed to explain how, he resorted to muddy reasoning about the specifics. Our artists will be there, but nothing, it appears, has been set in stone.

Now I don't expect Roland to be thoroughly briefed on every single item on the government's agenda. But if you want me to celebrate something, give me something solid to celebrate. I'd like to know a few names of the artists who will be travelling to the 2010 Winter Games to represent the territory. Those individuals should be given the chance to speak to residents so we can get a sense of who they are.

Maybe I'm sounding a tad cynical about the Olympics. That's not my intent at all.

I've always held a childlike reverence for the event. It symbolizes a spirit of community among countries. I always feel an acute sense of pride whenever one of our own hits the podium. Of course I will be keeping a close eye on the Canadian Men's Hockey Team.

As for the torch relay that will include Inuvik in November, it will be a profound moment, I'm sure.

I suppose what sours me about this whole partnership thing centres on a conversation I had at the announcement with a four-time Olympian from Aklavik, Sharon Firth.

She developed into the world class athlete she is because she had the coaching and resources to do it. She lamented the fact that the funding and support that could allow our current athletes to thrive isn't available. As a territorial government employee whose job it is to advocate on behalf of youth, there are few others who can talk more knowledgeably about the subject than Firth.

I commend her courage to speak up. Where are the government's priorities when it comes to the Olympics? Does it just want to be seen as part of the gang, not wanting to be left out?

What is it about the North that the territorial government wants to see promoted? Why are the Olympics so important to the territory? Why can't that passion be communicated a little more clearly?

Taxpayers and our athletes deserve to know.

If you found yourself daydreaming about future shopping adventures upon reading last Wednesday's Yellowknifer story about the new uptown mall, you're probably not alone.

Center Ice Plaza, a 45,000 square-foot property owned by Polar Developments, is scheduled to open this summer.

It has space for 10 retail shops, three kiosks, and it includes a big roomy courtyard to boot.

That sucking sound you hear, by the way, is that of another two downtown businesses uprooting and heading for the upscale digs at Center Ice.

The Bank of Montreal, currently inside Centre Square Mall, will set up shop in a building outside Center Ice. L'Heritage restaurant across the street from Centre Square is moving into the new mall.

Who could blame them? The bank faces 50 Street - ground zero for much that ills the city's downtown core. The entrance there often reeks of cigarettes and urine, as do many of the nooks, crannies and alcoves around Centre Square. That can't be very good for business.

The city has struggled to keep downtown viable the last few years as more businesses look uptown for a fresh start. The latest city plan calls for a revitalization project on 50 Street this summer. We can only hope it's not too late.

Centre Square Mall itself, constantly struggling with the conflicting priorities of trying to bring in customers while fending off drunks, street addicts and loiterers would be well advised to undertake a modest remodelling by putting its entrances right at street level, removing the alcoves, keeping its entrances clean and improving accessibility for baby strollers and those with disabilities.

A favourite activity for Yk tourists is fishing the area's lakes. Many travellers come here for the sole reason of chasing prize catches. They discover other attractions in the process.

The GNWT, with this in mind, has been advertising nationally our rich fishing holes. But tourists may have to chase more than just big fish as it's becoming more and more difficult to pick up a fishing licence.

Retailers, whose incentive to sell the licences is profit, are only making 50 cents per licence now, and at least a few vendors have stopped selling them.

This includes Gastown on Old Airport Road, which was a convenient spot to pick up a licence on the way in or out of town.

The government could only identify three locations that still sell the licences: the Co-op and two government offices which are only open from 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. on weekdays.

This could pose a problem to anyone looking for a licence after hours or on weekends. And what about statutory holidays?

The onus is on the federal Department of Fisheries and Oceans to increase vendors' profits on selling licences. With the 2009 fishing season already open, the GNWT has to do more than just "look into" the problem, as a spokesperson said last week. The lack of access to licences means there will be fewer people fishing, or at least fishing legally. The territorial government must pressure Ottawa to move quickly.

I almost always use the term post-secondary when writing on the virtues of continued education.

It's my own personal swipe at the ill-conceived notion among those afflicted with self-importance that university is the end-all destination when it comes to life after Grade 12.

Nothing could be further from the truth.

While a university education is a tremendous achievement and one to be strived for, there are also great opportunities awaiting those who graduate from community colleges and trade schools.

And that's especially true in Nunavut right now.

There are many students out there -- for a number of vastly differing reasons -- for whom a university education simply isn't in the cards.

These students almost always lose interest in scholastic achievement if they get it in their heads that they're somehow inferior academically if they can't reach such a lofty goal.

But these same students often see a spike in their self-esteem, self-confidence and interest in schooling when they're presented with a goal that's shown to be within their reach.

Tradespeople are in great demand in Nunavut, and that demand is going to increase during the coming decades.

And tradespeople who are good at their vocation make darn good money.

The Government of Nunavut is to be commended for initiatives such as the Nunavut Early Apprenticeship Program and the long-awaited trades school in Rankin Inlet.

That applies as well to schools across the territory encouraging their students to participate in the Skills Canada Nunavut Competition.

There is nothing easy about earning a trade ticket. It takes hard work and dedication.

That said, there are, in all likelihood, far more students in the Kivalliq and across Nunavut who are a lot more comfortable with a wrench, saw or scissors in their hands than they are discussing Friedrich Nietzsche's version of a perfect society or Albert Einstein's theory of relativity.

In fact, there are many examples in Kivalliq schools of students whose daily attendance had become so low they were looked upon as dropouts in waiting.

Their interest was rekindled by the introduction of some form of trades or apprenticeship program at their school.

These same young people are now attending regularly and pursuing a trade they're comfortable with and excelling at.

One Kivalliq student who fits that description recently won a gold medal at the Skills Canada Nunavut Competition in Iqaluit.

Nunavut will need its share of homegrown doctors, lawyers, business experts, etc., if it is to reach future self-sufficiency.

It will also need its share of homegrown plumbers, carpenters, mechanics, hairdressers, secretaries, electricians and a whole host of other vocations.

Nunavut will need university graduates to chart the future of this territory.

And it will also need tradespeople to build that future and keep it running, for blue-collar workers are every bit as important as white-collared planners.

In light of the money the federal government is putting into saving car companies and national building projects, how big is Canada's national debt? How big can it grow before Ottawa starts cutting back transfer funds to the NWT?

The answer to that question is critical to all Northerners. Everyone knows the NWT's biggest industry is government. Northern retailers, airlines and hotels live on government spending.

The territorial government expects to spend $1.3 billion this year. Of that, Ottawa gives the NWT $950 million, roughly 70 per cent of the territorial budget.

The territorial government spends that $950 million and collects back another 26 per cent or $247 million in taxes. With the exception of the diamond mines, most taxes come from employees of government and Northern businesses which depend on government spending and employees.

Ten years ago, right after division, the territorial budget was $708 million, of which the federal government provided 81 percent, seven per cent more than it does now. Over those 10 years, the territorial budget has increased an average of 6.6 per cent each year, a third of which was eaten up by inflation. With this, we are expected to build and maintain roads, bridges and pay for all the social costs that come with development.

The picture is crystal clear: Despite the huge growth in the territorial economy, Ottawa keeps our main industry very close to stagnation levels, pulling out cash at the same rate it is being made. Our politicians are more caretakers of a budget than leaders of a resource-rich territory.

As of 2008, Canada's debt stood at $457 billion, down from a high of $554 billion in 1999.

The Toronto Dominion bank is predicting an $81 billion deficit over the next two years, which will bring that national debt up to $538 billion.

How long before the debt is so large that Canadians start grumbling and looking for a government that will rein in deficits. The money Ottawa pays to provinces and territories is often the first place they start looking.

Premier Floyd Roland and Finance Minister Michael Miltenberger have already had a taste of how Northerners react to attempts to cut costs. They tried to reduce staff but the Union of Northern Workers mounted a successful campaign to kill that idea.

If a government can't cut staff, the only option left is cutting boards, programs and services. That's why they attempted to cut medical costs going to middle-class seniors; amalgamate school, health and housing boards, and did cut scholarships. All raised howls of protest.

The territorial budget is at its highest level. What's going to happen when the cuts start coming?

The only way to escape the shackles of Ottawa's bureaucracy is to build the NWT economy.

To do that, we must take ownership of our resources. Most importantly, it doesn't matter whether it is the territorial governments or aboriginal governments splitting up the pie as long as they are Northerners.

Right now, it appears the strongest leaders, the people who have any pride of ownership and are willing to fight for their rights beyond six per cent growth a year, are outside the capital in the Beaufort Delta, down the Mackenzie valley, Tlicho and south of Great Slave Lake.

Unless these people take charge, the NWT will be doomed to lap dog politics, shrinking government services and more fly-in, fly-out economics.

Even though Nunavut has made strides in Inuit employment in the public service, there's still a long road ahead to proportional representation.

Looking back, the proportion of Inuit in government jobs actually decreased slightly after division, to 43 per cent in 2001, from 45 per cent in 1999. Since then, it's been rising steadily, driven by Article 23 of the Nunavut Land Claims Agreement which requires the public service to aim for the same percentage of Inuit in government jobs as in the general population of Nunavut.

The Government of Nunavut reached a 50-per cent Inuit workforce in 2007, and that has since risen to 52 per cent.

But at the same time, there are still hundreds of government jobs going unstaffed.

After peaking at 84 per cent in 2006, the percentage of jobs filled in Nunavut's public service began dropping, and now it's back to 77 per cent, which is where it was in 2000.

Recruitment and retention of staff in the North is an enormous challenge due to the high cost of living and the lack of affordable housing. And unless graduation rates in Nunavut improve dramatically, Inuit employment in the public service may hit a glass ceiling.

Post-secondary education is the key that unlocks finance, science, health and management opportunities ... areas in the public service where the number of Inuit staff is low.

If Nunavut's public service is to ever boast a full and representative staff, money saved from positions currently vacant should be redirected towards education. The education system needs to engage students and prepare them adequately for further academic pursuits. That will put Nunavut's sharp, young minds in position to fill more of the highest-level careers in the public and private sectors.

Iqaluit city councillor Jim Little came under fire recently for attempting to expedite a committee meeting by skipping the translation of documents into Inuktitut.

Translation comes at a cost and it adds to the complexity of organizing any kind of public event or publication.

But it also allows people to understand completely what is going on and to express themselves with confidence in their language of choice.

It is symbolic of respect, openness and an eagerness to understand one another's point of view.

Nunavut's official languages are English, French, Inuktitut and Inuinnaqtun. Translation is a must in any public government in the territory. It's important that elected officials at all levels endorse this, and not try to dodge it under any circumstances.