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The American Indian Quarterly, Volume 34, Number 3, Summer 2010,

pp. 285-311 (Article)

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DOI: 10.1353/aiq.0.0119

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 More like Ourselves
Indigenous Capitalism through Tourism

alexis celeste bunten

In the most remote and beautiful parts of the world where much of the
world’s rural Indigenous populations still live, sustainable tourism is
presented as an economic panacea for communities whose traditional
economies and ways of life have been compromised by the dominant
societies to which they belong. Indigenous communities are responding
to this opportunity (or threat, depending on perspective) in unique and
innovative ways that set them apart from their non-Indigenous coun-
terparts. In an edited volume on the topic of Indigenous tourism Nelson
Graburn and I defined it as “any service or product that is a) owned and
operated at least in part by an Indigenous group and b) results from a
means of exchange with outside guests.”1 Some of these businesses may
not appear to stray far from non-Indigenous-owned tourism in terms
of products offered, but their company ethos reflects the values that set
apart Indigenous-owned tourism from its mainstream counterparts.
Through a comparison of Indigenous-owned cultural tourism busi-
nesses in southeastern Alaska and New Zealand as well as secondary data
examining Indigenous tourism across the Pacific, this article introduces
the concept of “Indigenous capitalism” as a distinct strategy to achieve
ethical, culturally appropriate, and successful Indigenous participation
within the global economy.
Indigenous peoples have been involved with tourism since they first
hosted guests through exploratory and early colonial encounters, yet In-
digenous ownership and control of such venues is a relatively new phe-
nomenon worldwide. Indigenous tourism encompasses a wide range of
experiences, including cultural tourism, ecotourism, adventure tour-
ism, gaming, resorts, and other related services. Most Indigenous tour-
 ism venues are less than a decade old, made possible largely through
increased communications technology, the rapid expansion of the inter-
national tourism industry, and neoliberal government policies aimed to
boost national economies through international visitorship and to rec-
tify multigenerational trauma resulting from past colonial engagements,
assimilationist policies, genocide, and slavery. While a growing body of
literature in a variety of disciplines touches upon aspects of the Indig-
enous tourism industry, such scholarship has tended to emphasize a de-
velopment-based theoretical framework that regards tourism as a pana-
cea for struggling communities to revitalize their economies. This article
considers the development of Indigenous business from an American
Indian studies perspective, pointing out similarities in business strate-
gies rooted in what could loosely be termed “Indigenous value systems”
while keeping in mind the individual nature of each community’s en-
gagement with dominant political economies over time.
From the outset I wish to make it clear that while Indigenous tourism
is growing at a rapid pace, there are many Indigenous peoples around
the world who remain disenfranchised from the dominant politi-
cal economy and cannot take advantage of the opportunities afforded
through economic development in tourism. Still others choose not to
capitalize upon their cultural patrimony through touristic performance
and display. For those who decide to take part in this industry, tour-
ism affords multiple benefits for Indigenous communities. Finally, this
piece intends to reach its audience in the form of a generalized editorial.
There are very few quantitative studies of the local and global impacts
of tourism for Indigenous proprietors. While I am aware of this emerg-
ing body of work on the topic of Indigenous tourism (mostly in hospi-
tality and management), traditional measures of economic success such
as gross income and job creation tend to ignore the social factors that
determine local communities’ individual values. Beyond a purely eco-
nomic analysis, tourism can be a catalyst for cultural perpetuation, the
protection of natural resources, and an instrument of community pride
and building bridges between peoples.
My authority on this topic stems from nearly a decade of experi-
ence working as a Native Alaskan tour guide and conducting research
in the Indigenous heritage industry. After working for two museums
and then two institutions devoted to promoting Alaska Native cultures,
I began my graduate studies in anthropology to gain a better under-

286 american indian quarterly/summer 2010/vol. 34, no. 3

standing of systemic social, political, and economic processes affect-
ing the Indigenous heritage industry. My doctoral research focused on
American Indian engagements with cultural tourism. As part of this
project I resumed working as a Native tour guide in 2003–4 for Sitka
Tribe of Alaska’s Tribal Tours. Although my Native Alaskan roots are
across the state of Alaska in Bristol Bay, I felt honored that Sitka Tribe
of Alaska afforded me the opportunity to represent its tribal member-
ship’s homeland and cultures. My postdoctoral research was concerned
with comparative analysis of Indigenous tourism across the Pacific,
with an emphasis on comparing Maori tourism specifically with Native
Alaskan models.
My first what I call “meet and greet” in New Zealand took place in
2006–7 during the tourism high season. I spent eight weeks traveling
throughout the country building networks and meeting with Maori
tourism professionals, from the owners of highly developed, multisited,
multi-million-dollar enterprises to individual proprietors running low-
tech, part-time tour operations. In speaking with these tourism profes-
sionals, it became clear that Maoris and Native Alaskans share a simi-
lar story in facing a legacy of colonial engagements and defining future
goals in their attempts to establish businesses that will serve community
needs. This article broadly explores these aspects of Indigenous tourism,
from history of engagement with tourism to contemporary tourism
models, focusing on the factors that distinguish Indigenous-owned and
-operated tourism from its mainstream counterparts. Through this dis-
cussion I present a general overview of the positive effects of participa-
tion in the tourism industry as well as the challenges facing collective
Indigenous entrepreneurship.
Influenced by decolonization theory, I wrote this piece in part for In-
digenous communities looking for frameworks to create ethically sound
businesses that are responsive to local value systems. I also intend for
this piece to combat the widespread misconception that Indigenous
peoples are inherently antigrowth, a stereotype that often stymies policy
change and prevents Indigenous communities from taking part in the
global economy on their own terms. Building upon the nascent concept
of Indigenous capitalism, this article poses a new approach to analyzing
Indigenous entrepreneurship from a perspective that balances Indige-
nous and non-Indigenous worldviews.2

Bunten: More like Ourselves 287

 comparative engagements in tourism

Like Alaska, New Zealand is a world-class tourist destination marketed

for its breathtaking natural beauty, wildlife, and Indigenous peoples.
Similar to Alaska Natives, New Zealand Maoris have experienced a his-
tory of warfare, colonization, and the breakdown of a traditional way
of life to become a minority people in what was once their land. Still,
Maoris and Native Americans have fought to regain political and cul-
tural sovereignty with measurable success. Among both the Maori and
Alaska Natives the capitalization of Native identity has been a feature
of Native and European interaction since the early colonial period, and
both Indigenous groups have carried this legacy through economic ven-
tures in cultural tourism.
For both the Maoris and Native Alaskans, participation in tourism
forces collective introspection. With the choice to commodify one’s cul-
ture comes great responsibility over cultural, material, and spiritual re-
sources. Despite vast geographical and cultural distances, Maoris and
southeastern Alaska Natives have developed similar ways of engaging
in the heritage industry as Indigenous peoples with shared economic
attitudes distinct from those that drive Western capitalism. Develop-
ing a business model for Indigenous tourism that is competitive within
the dominant political economy while serving the needs of the tribal
group is not an easy task. Commoditizing a living culture gives birth to
an acute paradox of representation in which Indigenous tourism pro-
fessionals feel enormous pressure to deliver a competitive product that
appeals to perceived consumer desires for “the Other” while confronting
stereotypes that persist in popular culture.
As one can well imagine, it can be emotionally draining to work as an
Indigenous tour guide. The guide must respond to the same questions
(often based on stereotypes) day after day while remaining pleasant and
hospitable toward his or her customers. When I worked as a Native tour
guide, my coworkers and I often struggled with feelings that we were
“selling out,” working within an institutionalized structure of domina-
tion in which we willingly sold our identities to suit public demands for
exoticism. Because our identities were the products of our labor, we ran
the risk of alienating ourselves from our senses of self in a very Marxist
sense. Most of the time, however, our work felt empowering. Our jobs
gave us the opportunity to turn the “official” record on its head by tell-

288 american indian quarterly/summer 2010/vol. 34, no. 3

ing our own stories from our alternative, Native points of view. Work-
ing in tourism gave many of us the opportunity to learn more about
our heritage(s) by observing each other and by asking our relatives to
clarify facts and stories that we wanted to tell on tour. We also had access
to workplace training, independent archival research, and participation
within a performance group. We ultimately felt great pride in our mul-
ticultural Indigenous identities, identities that visitors from around the
world paid to experience!
Beyond the personal challenges and practicalities of day-to-day op-
erations, tribal leaders are aware of the potential for political, financial,
and cultural benefits of participation in tourism, but they are also wary
of cultural degradation that can result from packaging culture accord-
ing to outside tastes and consumptive patterns. They are challenged
with developing the strategies to succeed within the political economy
of tourism. Approaches that support growth in tourism can be in direct
conflict with traditional protocols governing cultural resources, intellec-
tual property, and secrecy, a tactic employed by many tribal communi-
ties to survive generations of physical and cultural genocide. Comparing
Native Alaskan and Maori tourism business models, this article explores
the innovative solutions that Indigenous leaders have developed to par-
ticipate in the Western capitalist economy on their own terms.

pathways to indigenous tourism

Native Americans and Maoris share a similar engagement over time

with Western practices of representing them as “the Other,” practices
that originated in the nineteenth century and have been carried to the
present. Indigenous peoples have been represented along a continuum
of cultural evolution, from savagery to civilization, through world’s fairs,
advertising, museum exhibitions, and theme park attractions, perhaps
culminating in the “Small World” ride at Disneyland. Social Darwin-
ism, used to justify colonialism and other acts of cultural and physical
genocide against “the Other,” did not disappear with state-sanctioned
multiculturalism and international calls for tolerance and mutual re-
spect such as the 2007 UN Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peo-
ples. Residues of these practices of representing “the Other” in which
colonized peoples are objectified and commoditized following a moral
economy different from that which applies to the white male are ubiq-

Bunten: More like Ourselves 289

 uitous throughout contemporary tourism attractions, advertising, and
popular media that profit from difference.
Despite the efforts among colonizer and settler nations to push In-
digenous issues “under the rug” through campaigns that forward as-
similationist agendas, the twentieth century witnessed Indigenous social
movements that demanded recognition of Aboriginal rights to self-de-
termination and sovereignty. Native Alaskan and Maori activists were at
the forefront of these global campaigns and achieved measurable suc-
cess. At the same time, the traditions, ceremonies, languages, and art
forms that had gone underground during the period of physical and
cultural genocide waged against Indigenous peoples began to reap-
pear and in some cases flourish throughout Indigenous communities in
Alaska and New Zealand from the 1970s to the present.
Indigenous-owned cultural tourism developed out of this backdrop
of grassroots political activism buttressed against popular Western rep-
resentations of “the Other.” The earliest (and to date the most success-
ful) Indigenous-owned cultural tourism venues in both Alaska and New
Zealand have co-opted the “model culture” format popularized at the
Mormon-owned Polynesian Cultural Center (PCC), which “selectively
attempts to portray the best of those tangible, believable aspects of Poly-
nesian culture with which tourists can identify.”3 The salient feature of a
“model culture” is its simplicity. It is inhabited by people who appear to
be realistic members of the culture on display, according to tourists’ ex-
pectations. These people wear somewhat traditional clothes, perform ac-
tivities associated with their heritage, and share simplified information
about their culture to visitors. Usually the model culture is displayed
in a synchronic, precontact era, and these visits are too superficial for
hosts to share more complex aspects of their society (e.g., kinship) with
visitors. The reality of what it is like to be a member of the culture in
reference is not shared. Erasure is a major tool used to shape the model
culture. Unpleasant facts, both historical and modern, particularly those
that have something to do with colonization, are usually erased from
the representation altogether. Moreover, community members’ differing
viewpoints may be silenced in favor of a standardized cultural script, a
single narrative often ghostwritten by anthropologists rather than the
hosts themselves. The experience of a model culture is one of culture
sanitized and neatly packaged so as neither to offend nor to overload the
visitor with cultural information.

290 american indian quarterly/summer 2010/vol. 34, no. 3

 In their analysis of Australian Aboriginal tourism, Chris Ryan and
Jeremy Huyton, faculty members in tourism departments at the Univer-
sity of Waikato and the University of Canberra, respectively, point out
that “one reason why Aboriginal communities have looked to culturally
based products is because they have little business experience and tend
to repeat a known successful product.”4 The most commercially suc-
cessful Indigenous tourism enterprises in their regions, Saxman Village
Tours and Tamaki Maori Village, are prime examples of what I refer to
as the “first wave” of truly Indigenous-owned and -operated tourism at-
tractions. Established in the 1970s and 1989, respectively, Saxman Village
and Tamaki Maori Village are located in major tourist hubs, Ketchikan,
Alaska, and Rotorua, New Zealand, with sizeable Indigenous popula-
tions who have hosted guests since the latter half of the nineteenth cen-
tury.5 Both attractions present Indigenous culture through guided tours
of “villages” consisting of dwellings that appear to be built according to
precontact standards and narrated by Native guides who describe and
demonstrate aspects of Indigenous life in the past and present. Both en-
tertain visitors through song and dance performances and have a gift
shop on site. From an operational standpoint these places appear very
similar to the PCC.
Unlike their Hawaiian predecessor, the Tamaki Maori Village and
Saxman Village Tours are Indigenous-owned and -operated businesses.
While Saxman Village is owned by an Alaska Native village corporation
and Tamaki Tourism is a privately owned Maori tourism enterprise,
their respective communities hold them accountable to represent their
cultures appropriately, and both take care to follow local protocols. For
example, each tour takes a moment after the initial greeting to brief
tourists on proper cross-cultural etiquette. No pretense is made that
these model villages are “real,” yet they represent liminal spaces where
the dominant culture’s unwritten “rules of interaction” with minorities
are to be suspended and replaced with Indigenous expressions of mu-
tual respect for the duration of the tour experience. Not surprisingly,
Indigenous employees express a strong preference to work for these tour
companies, where their personal experiences add value to the products
they deliver. Indigenous tour guides come to work with a different sense
of investment in their labor; their cultural identities are intimately tied
to the workplace, a crucial site where workers’ bodies, identities, ances-
tors, beliefs, and landscapes make up the tourist attraction. At these

Bunten: More like Ourselves 291

 places workers are often related to each other through local systems
of kinship, re-creating the best (and worst) of a working environment
owned by a family or clan (hapu). In this setting, one that is both Indig-
enous and Western at the same time, employees seem to genuinely enjoy
sharing aspects of their cultures, past and present, with their customers.
They see their work as a way to celebrate their cultures and educate the
mainstream public. This perspective falls in line with a growing cohort
of scholars in anthropology and critical tourism studies who argue that
the commoditization of culture preserves traditional identities by meet-
ing demand from outsiders who attribute importance to local cultures.6

the controversy over cultural commodification

Despite the many encouraging economic, emotional, and cultural out-
comes that first-wave Indigenous tourism enterprises such as Saxman
Village and Tamaki Tours share, these places are controversial for some
members of their surrounding Indigenous communities. Those wary
of Indigenous tour operations are typically elders and/or other staunch
traditionalists who may have held steady to their belief systems in spite
of mainstream segregation and assimilation at the hands of institutions
such as church and school growing up.7 For those opposed to the com-
modification of culture, ethnic tourism only exists through the unlawful
(according to traditional protocol) appropriation and sale of collective
intellectual property. From this viewpoint the very act of presenting cul-
ture outside of its appropriate context is not only inauthentic but also
culturally illegal. Donald Bremner, former president of the Tlingit vil-
lage corporation, Yakutat Tlingit Tribe of Alaska, wrote an opinion piece
in Native Peoples Magazine concerning the commercialization of culture
that is worth quoting at length here:

Today, the majority of what we see being commercialized by indi-

vidual artists, and corporations involved in Western tourism and
other areas of Western commerce was and is clan property, subject
to clan laws. This includes clan crests, regalia, totems, jewelry, mu-
sic, songs, dances, designs, food, medicine, knowledge, intellectual
property, and things, which the Western world describes as “art
forms.” Western education, intellect, commercialization, and busi-
ness systems has overwhelmed our Native societies with the feel-
ing of the need for technology, machinery, food, clothing, shelter,

292 american indian quarterly/summer 2010/vol. 34, no. 3

 money, position, power, and politics; or not. As a result, there are
various levels of our traditional Native cultures being diluted, de-
valued, and lost through commercialization by Western style com-
panies and even by Natives that use our culture in nontraditional
ways and for nontraditional purposes.8

According to a report issued by the Maori Tourism Task Force, Maoris

face the same challenges:

The use of Maori cultural features to attract visitation with little

or no acknowledgment to the more symbolic, collective values
of such “products” deeply offends many Maori. . . . It has been of
deep concern to the Maori and that Maori image has been used as
a marketing tool in the promotion of the tourist industry for over a
hundred years. . . . Maori are also critical of the way they are stereo-
typed into guides, entertainers, carvers, and as components of the
natural scenery. This has been without consultation and with little
commercial benefit to the Maori people. There is a notable under-
current of bitterness about this, which could easily turn to anger.9
Opponents to tourism development are emotional when they artic-
ulate the connections between the history of Western theft (of Indig-
enous lands, resources, children, images, etc.) and the consumption of
culture through tourism. For these people, the global spread of con-
sumer culture continues to wear away local values rather than uphold
them.10 From this perspective, Indigenous opponents to tourism devel-
opment are in accord with the camp of tourism scholars who argue that
cultural tourism simply reinforces existing stereotypes and relations of
power surrounding Indigenous peoples.11 Those against the staging of
culture argue that tourism renders these representations inauthentic.12
From this perspective, cultural integrity is incompatible with a com-
mercial system that supplants activity directed toward a lived world to
one comprised of simulacra, devoid of individuating characteristics that
go beyond stereotypes.13 For tribal leaders opposed to the development
of cultural attractions, the potential loss of internally directed cultural
systems through the commercialization of culture is simply not worth
potential economic gain.
In spite of some local resistance, the developers of first-wave Indig-
enous tourism venues envisioned tourism as a means to support cul-
tural activity, provide jobs, and circulate revenue. They may not have

Bunten: More like Ourselves 293

 been consciously aware of the potential pitfalls at the time they devel-
oped tourism sites designed to appeal to Western mass-market tastes.
At worst, these attractions are a direct descendant of the exotic villages
built by transplanted colonized peoples at nineteenth-century exhibi-
tions designed to boost nationalism by showcasing the nation’s triumph
of conquest over colonized peoples “saved” from savagery through im-
perialism. At best, they innocently follow the “folk” model of cultures
frozen in time and put on display through “living” historical sites and
cultural centers where workers portray people of the past.14
With the need to meet industry standards set by global industries,
policy makers, and tourist expectations of the time, early efforts at In-
digenous-owned cultural tourism built upon the model culture format
and developed into what I describe as the “cultural tourism formula”
that can be found at cultural tourism sites worldwide.15 The cultural
tourism formula requires the tourism site to have most or all of these
elements: (1) the greeting, (2) the guide, (3) demonstrated use of the
heritage language, (4) traditional architecture, (5) a performance, (6) a
gift shop or souvenirs for sale, and often (7) demonstrations of tradi-
tional Native crafts and sometimes (8) a Westernized Native feast such
as the Hawaiian lū’au or Maori Hangi meal. (The Hangi, a traditional
meal during which food is cooked using geothermal steam, has been ap-
propriated by the tourist industry and commercialized as a group feast
complete with entertainment, similar to the lū’au.) Typically, this for-
mat does not allow for a deeply personalized encounter with the Native
host. Still, following this formula has presented Indigenous people with
a basic model to begin the process to take control of their representa-
tion through tourism. For the most part, these places are accepted by
their local Indigenous communities, and for many, they are a source of
great pride. Ultimately, however, the “folk model” and “cultural tourism
formula” are felt as generally unsatisfying to a new generation of Native
entrepreneurs who are striving to develop new traditions for the cross-
cultural encounter that extend beyond the mass-tourism framework.

emergent models for indigenous tourism

In the past decade a proliferation of Indigenous-owned tourism sites has

surfaced throughout the world. Indigenous culture brokers and business
leaders are expanding beyond the confines of the “cultural tourism for-

294 american indian quarterly/summer 2010/vol. 34, no. 3

mula” as opportunities to participate in sustainable, culturally appropri-
ate tourism increase. A “second-wave” Indigenous tourism movement
begun in the late 1990s and gaining momentum in the present marks
a profound paradigm shift in business models. Rather than modeling
existing Western schemas for exhibiting “the Other” within a capitalist
system, emergent Indigenous tourism models compel the tourism in-
dustry to meet them halfway, to adapt to Indigenous standards of repre-
sentation within an Indigenous economic philosophy.
This ideological drift begins with the notion that hosting guests is a
deeply Native thing to do. For most Indigenous peoples, especially those
in Alaska and New Zealand, hospitality is and has always been serious
business, meant to establish key relationships between peoples within
and across cultural boundaries. Adapting the protocols of hosting with
its associated social functions and embedded aesthetics to a commer-
cial context comes naturally. From the first greeting in their Native lan-
guages, Maoris and Native Alaskans meet tourist expectations for the
exotic while maintaining the traditions, albeit in simplified form, that
uphold their social systems. Nearly all aspects of second-wave Indige-
nous tourism follow this pattern where outside demands are met, but
Indigenous value systems ultimately determine the business and opera-
tions model.
Indeed, value systems are what set apart Indigenous-owned tourism
from non-Indigenous tourism. First and foremost, Indigenous tourism
businesses operate according to principles that reflect a commitment to
community needs and goals. In tourism, where Indigenous communi-
ties are invested in representing some feature of the local culture, land-
scape, or other natural resource, success is determined by the basic prin-
ciple of honoring the past while investing in the future. Unlike tourism
enterprises operated by non-Natives, Indigenous tourism is almost al-
ways married to cultural perpetuation as part of a strategy to employ
identity politics in larger arenas of concern for the Indigenous popula-
tion such as retaining or reclaiming history, control over representation,
surface and subsurface land rights, and political sovereignty. This entails
an operating plan that ensures the stewardship of tangible and intan-
gible community property.
Compare Sitka Tribe of Alaska’s Tribal Tours mission statement (“to
preserve traditional Native culture in language, song, and dance; to
provide the opportunity to educate current and future generations; to

Bunten: More like Ourselves 295

 increase awareness of cultural expression and respect for cultural dif-
ferences; and to provide economic opportunities for Tribal citizens”)
with the mission statement of Maori Tours Kaikoura (“we want to share
our unique culture, location and history in a natural and intimate way,
whilst preserving our values and strengthening the development of our
people—educationally, economically and spiritually”). Separated by
over seven thousand miles across the Pacific Ocean, these two Indige-
nous-owned tourism businesses in Alaska and New Zealand adhere to a
business philosophy that puts cultural integrity before the dollar.
Australian and Canadian Aboriginal peoples share this principle with
Native Americans and Maoris. The director for the Centre for Aborigi-
nal Economic Policy, Jon Altman, writes: “Aboriginal interests often con-
sider development options in a context that includes social and cultural
as well as economic components.”16 In a similar vein, Claudia Notzke,
associate professor in the First Nations Governance program of the Fac-
ulty of Management, University of Lethbridge, states:

For the [Canadian] Inuvialuit in embracing tourism, the challenge

is twofold: to protect the integrity of their land-based economy and
way of life from trespass and interference of the tourism industry;
and to engage in tourism activities in a way which enables the in-
dustry to fit into, nurture, and benefit community mixed econo-
mies to an optimum degree.17

From this broad perspective, Indigenous development is not limited to

issues like material expansion, increased cash income, and high formal
employment but also involves social and cultural issues, the potential
for increased political power, and the possibility of widened future op-
tions. Thus, while profitability is very important to Indigenous tourism
businesses, it is not necessarily measured in dollars.18
Indigenous leaders must carefully weigh the social costs and benefits
of tourism. Expanding upon this idea, Duane Champagne writes: “Na-
tive communities are greatly concerned about economic issues, but they
do not wish to sacrifice culture, preferred institutional relations, and
their internal social relations in favor of economic development.”19 Upon
surveying Indigenous tourism, distinct patterns emerge. From Alaska to
New Zealand, these businesses tend to share the following components:
collective leadership, stewardship of land and natural resources, cultural
perpetuation, and building understanding through education.

296 american indian quarterly/summer 2010/vol. 34, no. 3

 collective leadership

Organizational structures of leadership differentiate Indigenous from

non-Indigenous tourism. Like any business, Indigenous tourism is ob-
ligated to do its best to satisfy its investors, but in this case the inves-
tors extend beyond financial underwriters. Indigenous tourism is often
supported by a group of de facto “investors” comprised of recognized
group members, young and old, long buried and the unborn, who have
directly or indirectly endowed cultural and spiritual capital to the tour-
ism enterprise.20 For this reason, Indigenous tourism businesses are ex-
pected to uphold the wishes of the group at large to some degree.
Collectively owned Indigenous tourism businesses typically build a
system of checks and balances into their operating plan to ensure that
the good of the community, including members who cannot speak for
themselves, is upheld. These checks and balances are manifest in the
form of tribal councils, advisory boards, culture committees, and part-
nerships with other, local sites of cultural production, including educa-
tion programs, dance groups, and so forth. Many Indigenous communi-
ties will go the extra mile to ensure that cultural relations are maintained
even if it means sacrificing some profits or efficiency. If they don’t, these
businesses run the risk of being shut down through social pressure at
some later date, even if they are fiscally profitable.
In her overview of Indigenous arctic tourism development in west-
ern Canada, Notzke describes the complicated nature of Indigenous
tourism planning: “Not only must government regulations be satisfied
when it comes to licensing and operation, but also numerous Aboriginal
boards, committees and community organizations.”21 In a similar vein,
Michael Hall, Ian Mitchell, and Ngawini Keeland describe the complex
negotiations that must take place across Maori institutional structures
for Maori to take part in the heritage industry: “Maori corporate iden-
tity is retained within the traditional structures. . . . Maori boundaries
often have nothing in common with the regional council boundaries
so that, in many cases, councils have to negotiate with more than one
Maori tribal group.”22 Replacing the word Maori with the word Tlin-
git, this account could easily describe organizational tribal politics in
southeastern Alaska, where I have worked and conducted research, and,
I imagine, Indigenous societies in many other parts of the world.23
Through engaging in these processes to ensure that the goals and val-

Bunten: More like Ourselves 297

 ues of Indigenous communities are met, Indigenous tourism profes-
sionals ideally develop a product that reflects the real lives (in at least as
much is decided to be shared with outsiders) of its community members
rather than a simulacra that blindly accommodates the tourist gaze.24 In
turn, as Champagne points out in a discussion of Indigenous capital-
ism, accumulated wealth “is reinvested or redistributed with the well-
being of the community in mind.”25 In the case of tourism, this occurs
most commonly in the form of jobs, educational programs, dividends,
performances, and cultural centers.

stewardship of land and natural resources

For Indigenous peoples, well-being encompasses a host of interrelated

factors, including economic stability, physical and mental health, self-
determination, and connection to the earth. To this day many Alaska
Natives and Maoris continue to maintain traditional relations with their
lands through subsistence, spiritual, and other cultural activities. Many
Alaska Native groups and Pacific Islanders share analogous philosophi-
cal approaches to the earth. Stories and symbolism are tied to geograph-
ical features, nature and nonhuman beings are to be respected, and cos-
mologies within and beyond the physical landscape are connected to a
whole system bound together through the shared experience of being a
part of the earth.26 Traditionally, Maoris and southeastern Alaska Na-
tives managed landownership and natural resources similarly, in which
the rights to hunt, fish, and gather foods belonged to ancestral groups
who rotated harvests and paid respect to plant matter and creatures that
had given their lives to ensure continued availability for future genera-
tions.27 Carrying this legacy to the present, Indigenous communities are
eager to seek ways to manage their natural resources that uphold their
worldviews concerning the environment.
Some Indigenous leaders have begun to view tourism as a low-im-
pact means to move away from extraction-based industries and toward
economic development that is compatible with conservation.28 With the
right marketing, Indigenous ecotourism has the potential to be lucrative.
Tourists seeking these experiences are willing to spend more money than
mass tourists; they have more education and a high degree of interest in
learning from Indigenous worldviews.29 Accordingly, a growing segment
of Indigenous cultural tourism products include ecotourism activities

298 american indian quarterly/summer 2010/vol. 34, no. 3

such as hiking and observing wildlife as well as limited resource-extrac-
tion tourism such as hunting and fishing excursions compatible with
conservation ethics. Guides on these tours typically convey Indigenous
interpretations of the land and the plants and animals that thrive on it.
One of Tribal Tours’ nature walks take visitors through different levels of
forest regrowth, contrasting the Western impact on the ecosystem over
time with traditional Tlingit conservation strategies. Footprints Waip-
oua, a Maori co-owned tourism business in Omapere, New Zealand,
presents spiritual, cultural, and natural history throughout their forest
trek, weaving a contemporary conservation ethic with traditional Maori
worldviews that guided their relationship to the earth.30 These examples
clearly demonstrate that the values associated with the stewardship of
ancestral lands are well suited to Indigenous tourism.

cultural perpetuation

Indigenous tourism workers are by no means a uniform group. They

represent every demographic: young and old, male and female, rich and
poor, with differing heritages and backgrounds. Some tourism workers
are born in their communities to highly traditional families, and others
who have returned (some for the first time) to their ancestral home-
lands have little to no life experience within their cultures. For all indi-
viduals along this spectrum, tourism allows them to learn more about
their Indigenous identities and to perpetuate their cultures, languages,
and traditions.
From planning to the final product, cultural perpetuation is part
and parcel of many aspects of Indigenous tourism operations. Various
committees work hard to ensure that Indigenous tourism businesses
put forth accurate information evident in the preparation of training
materials, tour scripts, information packets, and performance rehears-
als. Training is an integral aspect of the cultural perpetuation that takes
place through tourism. Sitka Tribe of Alaska’s Tribal Tours has an ex-
tensive training system that combines auditory learning with written
sources. New tour guides attend cultural workshops on all aspects of
Tlingit culture through live oral presentations and physical demonstra-
tions, following a traditional, Indigenous pedagogy. Paparoa Marae de-
veloped a similar Indigenous training module for their Maori workers.31
For both businesses, lessons cover topics such as language, songs, dances,

Bunten: More like Ourselves 299

 history, material culture, ceremonial protocol, the natural world, and so-
cial systems, among other topics. In addition to cultural training, classes
and apprenticeships in Indigenous art forms are formally built into the
operations model at many cultural tourism attractions in Alaska and
New Zealand.32
Cultural perpetuation and tourism operations often function as a
feedback loop. Individuals who are already interested in maintaining
their cultures typically take leadership roles in developing tourism. The
cultural production taking place at the tourist venue relies on the exper-
tise of elders and other cultural specialists. The physical objects associ-
ated with the front stage, including Indigenous architecture, carvings,
videos, and art objects for sale, and those associated with the back stage,
such as training manuals, song books, and archival materials, record
culture for those who wish to learn.33 Finally, young people come to
learn about their cultures by working in tourism as administrative assis-
tants, guides, dancers, and apprentices. In this manner tourism serves as
a conduit to circulate cultural knowledge. In the past Maoris and Native
Alaskans passed on their culture through the oral tradition, but in the
face of social upheaval, many leaders and culture bearers from Alaska to
New Zealand articulate that it is best to pass on their values through as
many channels as possible.

building understanding through education

One of the most highly valued investments in the well-being of Indig-

enous communities, education is a key component of Indigenous tour-
ism models. As Canadian Aboriginal tourism leader Barry Parker aptly
points out, “various by-products developed to support tourism can be
used for other purposes in the Aboriginal community. Cultural infor-
mation for cultural products can be used to develop a curriculum for
the school system. Certain facilities can be used by the community as
part of education or social activities.”34 Indigenous tourism profession-
als in Alaska and New Zealand make use of materials from bilingual and
cultural education programs in developing their tour products, but they
also contribute new information generated in the workplace back into
these programs. Clan houses and marae built or retrofitted to accommo-
date tourists often serve a dual purpose. When they are not being used
for tourism, they are hubs of cultural and educational activity where

300 american indian quarterly/summer 2010/vol. 34, no. 3

meetings, special events, dance practices, and lectures are held. Profits
from tourism are literally reinvested into education through scholarship
funds. Finally, tourism workers are typically educators themselves ac-
cording to Indigenous and/or Western criteria.
Tourism passes on what it means to be Indigenous in two different
ways: one is inwardly directed toward tribal members through cultural
perpetuation activities, and the other is outwardly directed toward
non-Indigenous guests. Unlike non-Indigenous-owned cultural tour-
ism, workers are not expected to accommodate the tourist gaze, to meet
tourist desires for the exotic and all the stereotypes that accompany it.
Rather, they see their jobs as part of a personal mission to share with
dignity and respect aspects of their cultures that they choose.35 Through
face-to-face interaction with non-Natives, Indigenous tourism work-
ers dispel negative stereotypes and address historical inaccuracies. They
make a powerful statement that they can and will control their repre-
sentation on their own terms through a careful balance of sharing and
secrecy. From a broader perspective, these businesses demonstrate to
non-Natives at local, national, and international levels that Indigenous
peoples are capable of successful participation within the Western polit-
ical economy. By teaching the world that they are not fourth-class com-
munities relegated to government handouts but rather self-determined
peoples willing to undertake the steps necessary to heal the wounds in-
flicted under colonialism through the act of sharing their lives, Indige-
nous tourism professionals build understanding across cultural divides.

new approaches to challenges

facing indigenous tourism

Initiated by necessity, guided by instinct, and refined by trial and er-

ror, sustainable Indigenous-owned business models from Alaska to New
Zealand share these basic elements: collective leadership, stewardship
of land and natural resources, cultural perpetuation, and building un-
derstanding through education. These factors have helped to mitigate
the cross-cultural differences between Western and Indigenous forms
of capitalism, the latter based on collective ownership of resources and
motivated by a holistic approach to well-being rather than pure profit.
In theory, Indigenous business models can be simultaneously success-
ful by both Western and non-Western standards, but in practice Indig-

Bunten: More like Ourselves 301

 enous tourism businesses are constantly tested from within and outside
of their communities.
The most pressing roadblock to Indigenous tourism development is
that many Indigenous groups worldwide are not legally recognized as
such, and they remain alienated from their ancestral lands and associ-
ated rights. For the fortunate ones that have legally recognized identities
and land-based resources, community leaders often lack a basic West-
ern business education. Having been isolated from the mainstream cash
economy until recently, many leaders adept within their own cultural
systems have a steep learning curve when it comes to cross-cultural
communication, applying for business loans, developing partnerships,
satisfying government codes and regulations, marketing their products,
establishing client bases, and growing their businesses from year to year.
Although Indigenous groups in many parts of the world may be eligible
to apply for government subsidies and other development initiatives,
many Indigenous leaders view this aid with skepticism; they feel that
in order to use it they must follow specific government-decreed models
that limit profitability and chip away at self-determination.
The political economy of tourism poses a major challenge for many
Indigenous tourism businesses that face tough competition from exist-
ing vendors who will fight to maintain their domination of the market.
Sadly, in many parts of the world where Indigenous peoples live side
by side with non-Natives, discrimination is rampant. Forms of out-
side support may be undercut with the covert discriminatory actions
of those who do not support Indigenous efforts at economic indepen-
dence. For example, in some of the places I have either visited as a tour-
ist or worked as a tourism professional, (non-Indigenous) information
center workers consistently omit Indigenous businesses in response to
visitor inquiries, and local tourism proprietors bad-mouth their Indig-
enous competition to middlemen playing up to their unconscious fears
that “the Natives” are unprofessional. To counteract these challenges In-
digenous tourism enterprises are required to meet and exceed Western
business standards in order to sustain their businesses.
As if the dominant society didn’t present enough threats to Indige-
nous tourism, these businesses face constraints from within their own
communities. Indigenous business practices are often accused of in-
creasing factionalism along lines of local kinship systems. The same
system of checks and balances that helps to regulate the cultural infor-

302 american indian quarterly/summer 2010/vol. 34, no. 3

mation disseminated to the public may break down local relationships.
Arguments among different factions over the rights to tell particular
stories or perform songs and dances are common. These conflicts main-
tain Indigenous systems of ownership as well as cultural practices that
regulate cultural knowledge, but they can also destroy the tourism prod-
uct by stripping it of “authentic” content.
Profits may alter local lifestyles and shift existing power structures.
Opponents to tourism development are afraid that a reliance on tourist
dollars might threaten mixed, subsistence-based economies that require
community members to maintain a flexible schedule, not one based on
the arrival of airplanes, boats, buses, and cars full of tourists. On the one
hand, Indigenous tourism workers who operate in spite of community
protest risk their reputations and run the threat of being ostracized. On
the other hand, tourism operators can parlay their accomplishments in
the Western political economy to take on tribal leadership roles. Tradi-
tionalists often warn that in order for their people to be successful in
the Western world, they risk paying exorbitant penalties as Indigenous
values are replaced with Western individualism and the spirit of capital-
ism.36 So although tourism has many demonstrated benefits for Indig-
enous communities, some members of these communities continue to
view this industry with a healthy cynicism.
Through dialogue those with opposing opinions about tourism can
begin to meet each other on common ground. Rather than viewing Na-
tive culture as incompatible with participation in the Western economy,
cultural integrity should be seen as the key to long-term marketability. I
recommend that Indigenous tourism professionals work with their re-
spected elders to establish a set of guidelines concerning cultural com-
modification. Working together to establish standardized protocols from
which to approach tourism development is a way to improve success
within the dominant political economy while remaining accountable to
community interests. After all, if Indigenous tourism leaders choose to
work outside of appropriate cultural guidelines set by previous genera-
tions, they will not likely maintain credibility among their own peoples.
To build sustainable businesses, Indigenous participation in cultural
tourism requires the establishment of regulating bodies to protect lo-
cal cultures from distortion in response to the pressures of the Western
market economy. These regulatory bodies may reflect traditional means
of decision making, corporate models, or an amalgam of both. For ex-

Bunten: More like Ourselves 303

 ample, the Alaska Native Heritage Center and Footprints Waipoua rely
upon steering committees made up of leaders and culture bearers from
each major Alaska Native region to oversee the performance and display
of cultural patrimony at the center. Other tourism venues such as Tribal
Tours and Paparoa Marae consult respected elders when a question or
conflict arises in the workplace. Through the process of negotiating the
protocols surrounding the presentation of Indigenous cultures, Indige-
nous communities can establish a new tradition that responds to threats
to cultural sovereignty that arise from participation in the tourism in-
dustry and the rampant commercialization of Indigenous cultures in
general.37 These negotiations are mandatory not only to ensure the in-
tegrity of the cultural tourism product itself but because cultural com-
modification and appropriation threaten Indigenous survival. After all,
if culture is treated as flexible according to market fads, it is no longer
stewarded by the distinct group of people who share it; rather, it may
belong to any outsiders who want to purchase and alter it to serve their
needs. By establishing regulatory bodies, Indigenous tourism businesses
can market authentic products that have potential for long-term success
without violating established norms and values.

conclusion

For Indigenous communities, weighing the costs and benefits of par-

ticipation in tourism is a very difficult task. While tourism presents the
opportunity to represent themselves according to their worldviews, In-
digenous tourism leaders must play by the rules of the Western political
economy. The newest generation of Indigenous business leaders is cur-
rently hard at work to solve this paradox, developing new business mod-
els to participate in tourism on their own terms. As project manager for
Maori-owned Wakatu Incorporation, Ropata Taylor stated in a keynote
speech delivered to the American Indian Alaska Native Tourism Asso-
ciation in September 2007, “We know we don’t want to commercialize
our cultures. We want to culturalize our commerce!”
By “culturalizing commerce” through the incorporation of core values
into business models, Indigenous tourism enterprises contribute greatly
to the overall well-being of their communities. Tourism generates jobs
and contributes to the local economy without relying on natural re-
source extraction. It provides a path for Indigenous workers to engage

304 american indian quarterly/summer 2010/vol. 34, no. 3

with the natural environment on a regular basis, reinforcing connec-
tions between their ancestral homelands and identity. These jobs keep
the young people, the future leaders and culture bearers, at home near
their families and in touch with cultural values. Indigenous tourism
supports the preservation of knowledge through research, collaborative
projects with elders, and performance. Just by doing their jobs, Indig-
enous tourism workers build understanding across cultural boundaries
as they educate tourists about their unique perspectives. Through this
outreach, presence in local boards, and contributions to the economy
these businesses are instrumental in eradicating negative stereotypes
through the interactions taking place between hosts and guests. From
the global perspective, tourism is a powerful tool for peace.
If we consider Indigenous tourism from a viewpoint that privileges
an understanding of local values in business capacity building, the an-
alytical focus shifts. Instead of seeing Indigenous tourism as merely a
means of alleviating poverty, it can be measured in terms of transmut-
ing cultural and spiritual capital into the potential for economic gain.
Therefore, returns on Indigenous investments in tourism should be
analyzed in terms of overall well-being. We should be paying attention
to the ways in which commodifying Indigenous resources, including
landscapes, foods, stories, songs, dances, and worldviews, upholds fam-
ily values, spiritual beliefs, cultural knowledge, and pride. If Indigenous
businesses do not adhere to traditional principles bound to hospitality,
trade, and ethics, they are in danger of simply reproducing colonizing
tropes of representing “the Other.”
There is a difference between the tourism that accommodates a per-
ceived Western tourist gaze at the expense of cultural integrity and one
that is carefully crafted to appeal to tourists (and the corporate enti-
ties that deliver them) while upholding local values. Tourists can sense
the internal colonization in the former. They respond to it through pity,
mockery, and commentary to the effect that what they are seeing is
“fake.” By the same token, tourists experiencing Indigenous value-based
tourism approach their experiences from a position of cross-cultural
sharing and mutual understanding. Here, tourists often ask insightful
questions. They leave their tours commenting on the humanity they
share with their hosts, sometimes in tears, embracing their new friends
at their departure.
For Indigenous communities, tourism is one of the primary settings

Bunten: More like Ourselves 305

 in which their people are valued for their unique cultures and heritages
in relation to the outside world. Through thoughtful planning, tourism
can be a means for Indigenous communities to take back the power from
dominant societies to define themselves. Tourism provides an instru-
ment to determine what to share and not share with visitors. Observing
successful Native Alaskan and Maori tourism models, it is clear that this
industry will continue to showcase Indigenous excellence to the rest of
the world while passing it on to the next generation. After all, hospitality
is inherently Indigenous. In contrast to the dictates of the dominant po-
litical economy, which often requires Indigenous people to be “less like
themselves,” embedding local values into their business models helps
Indigenous tourism professionals to be “more like themselves.”

notes
1. Nelson Graburn, professor emeritus in the Anthropology Department at
the University of California, Berkeley, is widely recognized as the founder of the
anthropology of tourism and one of the leading scholars on tourism in general.
Alexis Bunten and Nelson Graburn, “Current Themes in Indigenous Tourism,”
London Journal of Tourism, Sport and Creative Industries 2, no. 1 (2009): 3.
2. This piece presents a generalized overview of Indigenous tourism across
the Pacific and by no means suggests that the issues and values discussed ap-
ply to Indigenous groups as a uniform category. Each Indigenous community
engaging in tourism has its own culture, values, history, and engagement with
the global economy. At the same time, there are some universals that seem to be
present in the current Indigenous tourism industry. By pointing these out, this
article hopes to raise these issues for academics, policy makers, and leaders in
Indigenous tourism.
3. Max E. Stanton, “The Polynesian Cultural Center: A Multi-ethnic Model
of Seven Pacific Cultures,” in Hosts and Guests: The Anthropology of Tourism, ed.
Valene Smith (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1989), 248.
4. Chris Ryan and Jeremy Huyton, “Tourists and Aboriginal People,” Annals
of Tourism Research 29 (2002): 642.
5. According to Emily Moore (personal communication, 2009), the Saxman
Village totem park had been originally established by the Civilian Conservation
Corps in 1938–39 but did not become a tourist attraction until the 1970s.
6. For more discussion of the ways that Indigenous tourism workers serve
as ambassadors for their tribes by correcting stereotypes through demonstra-
tion and dialogue, see Nick Stanley, Being Ourselves for You: The Global Dis-
play of Cultures (London: Middlesex University Press, 1999); Barbara Babcock,

306 american indian quarterly/summer 2010/vol. 34, no. 3

“Pueblo Cultural Bodies,” Journal of American Folklore 107 (1994): 40–54; Lau-
rie Kroshus Medina, “Commoditizing Culture Tourism and Maya Identity,”
Annals of Tourism Research 30 (2003): 352–68; Tate LeFevre, “Seizing Identity,
Manipulating Globalization: The Wetr Dance Troupe in Lifou, New Caledo-
nia,” BA honors thesis, Dartmouth College, 2004; Alexis Celeste Bunten, “Self
Commodification in the Native Owned Cultural Tourism Industry,” PhD diss.,
University of California, Los Angeles, 2006; Jennifer Kramer, Switchbacks: Art,
Ownership, and Nuxalk National Identity (Vancouver: University of British Co-
lumbia Press, 2006); Laura Peers, Playing Ourselves: Interpreting Native Histories
at Historic Reconstructions (Lanham, MD: Alta Mira Press, 2007); Karen Stocker,
“Identity as Work: Changing Job Opportunities and Indigenous Identity in the
Transition to a Tourist Economy,” Anthropology of Work Review 28 (2007): 18–
22; Claudia Notzke, “Indigenous Tourism Development in the Arctic,” Annals of
Tourism Research 26 (1998): 55–76; and Gail Valaskakis, “Parallel Voices: Indians
and Others,” Canadian Journal of Communication 18 (1993): 283–98.
7. Though they can seem most outspoken, elders are not the only demo-
graphic of Indigenous communities who voice opposition to tourism. Other
members of the community from different walks of life and backgrounds might
agree with this standpoint for a variety of reasons.
8. Donald Bremner, “Viewpoint,” Native Peoples Magazine 17 (2004): 8.
9. Maori Tourism Task Force, Maori Tourism Task Force Report (Wellington:
Government Printing Office, 1986), 25.
10. Having experienced generations of rampant objectification of Indigenous
cultures at the hands of colonists and their descendants, it is no wonder Indig-
enous people are reluctant to share their cultures with outsiders. Kramer pres-
ents a compelling framework from which to understand the complex layers of
cultural “theft” at the hands of non-Natives and why the Nuxalk people of Brit-
ish Columbia are so angry and protective of their tangible and intangible cul-
ture (Switchbacks). Likewise, Richard and Nora Dauenhauer explain: “There is
a real and legitimate fear of traditional ethnic materials being appropriated, ex-
ploited, trivialized, or desecrated by outsiders, and this fear has led many elders
and communities in the direction of secrecy” (“Evolving Concepts of Tlingit
Identity and Clan,” in Coming to Shore: Northwest Coast Ethnology, Traditions,
and Visions, ed. Marie Mauzé, Michael E. Harkin, and Sergei Kan [Lincoln: Uni-
versity of Nebraska Press, 2004], 253–78).
11. Key scholars who have argued this perspective include Dean MacCannell,
“Reconstructed Ethnicity Tours and Cultural Identity in Third World Com-
munities,” Annals of Tourism Research 11 (1984): 375–91; and Pierre Rossel, “Pot-
latch and the Totem: The Attraction of America’s Northwest Coast,” in Tourism:
Manufacturing the Exotic (Copenhagen: International Work Group for Indig-
enous Affairs, 1988).

Bunten: More like Ourselves 307

 12. According to Dean MacCannell (“Staged Authenticity: On Arrangements
of Social Space in Tourist Settings,” American Journal of Sociology 79 [1973]:
589–603) and R. Hewison (The Heritage Industry: Britain in a Climate of Decline
[London: Methuen, 1987]), the heritage industry emphasizes fraudulence. In a
similar vein, Davydd Greenwood argues that even when the tourists are no lon-
ger present, the cultural forms commodified for outside consumption can no
longer remain in their original symbolic form with attached meanings (“Cul-
ture by the Pound: An Anthropological Perspective on Tourism and Cultural
Commodification,” in Smith, Hosts and Guests, 171–86).
13. See Richard Handler and William Saxon, “Dyssimulation, Reflexivity,
Narrative, and the Quest for Authenticity in Living History,” Cultural Anthro-
pology 3 (1998): 249.
14. For more discussion of the open-air “folk” model popularized at the turn
of the twentieth century at Skansen in Sweden and the continued use of this
form of display at historical and cultural centers around the world, see Richard
Bauman and Patricia Swain, “The Politics of Participation in Folklife Festivals,”
in Exhibiting Cultures: The Poetics and Politics of Museum Display, ed. Ivan Karp
and Steven D. Lavine (Washington, DC: Smithsonian University Press, 1991),
288–314; Peers, Playing Ourselves; Stanley, Being Ourselves for You.
15. Bunten, “Self Commodification.”
16. Jon Altman, “Tourism Dilemmas for Aboriginal Australians,” Annals of
Tourism Research 16 (1989): 457–76.
17. Notzke, “Indigenous Tourism Development,” 67.
18. I am not asserting that Indigenous people cannot operate as disinterested
actors working for pure profit within the dominant economic paradigm. Rather,
I am pointing out a generalized trend that distinguishes a form of Indigenous
capitalism, a concept used differently in varying contexts, from rural tribal reser-
vations in the United States, to multinational Indigenous-owned corporations,
to a development context within Africa. The concept of Indigenous capitalism
as it is employed in this article has yet to be theoretically fleshed out, although
scholars, including Duane Champagne in the sociology department at UCLA
and Chellie Spiller, ABD at the University of Auckland Business School, are con-
tributing to an understanding of the ways that Indigenous people conceptualize
and do business across different sociocultural and economic contexts.
19. Duane Champagne (Turtle Mountain Band of Chippewa) is a professor of
sociology and on the Faculty Advisory Committee for the Native Nations Law
& Policy Center at UCLA. Additionally, he served on my dissertation committee
at UCLA. I am hesitant to limit acknowledging Dr. Champagne’s contributions
to the discipline of sociology, as he has contributed greatly to American Indian
studies, Native American studies, and Indigenous studies through his writing

308 american indian quarterly/summer 2010/vol. 34, no. 3

and teaching. Duane Champagne, Social Change and Cultural Continuity among
Native Nations (Lanham, MD: Alta Mira Press, 2007), 58.
20. Spiritual capital is a growing interdisciplinary field of research in the
social sciences and economics concerned with the ways that social and eco-
nomic dynamics are shaped by cultural factors. Rodger Spiller, director of Rod-
ger Spiller and Associates, a business firm specializing in sustainable and ethi-
cal investments, described spiritual capital as “the value reflected in a business’
commitment to quality of life and sustainability. It’s about improving qual-
ity of life and defining and fulfilling a personal and professional purpose, or
making a difference for other people and the planet” (http://www.templeton
.org/capabilities_2004/horiz03.html).
21. Notzke, “Indigenous Tourism Development,” 65.
22. Michael C. Hall, Ian Mitchell, and Ngawini Keeland, “The Implications of
Maori Perspectives for the Management and Promotion of Heritage Tourism in
New Zealand,” GeoJournal 29 (1993): 315–22, 320.
23. Other examples of group negotiation as an integral aspect of Indig-
enous tourism development from tourism studies literature include T. H. C.
Solfield’s description of a Melanesian community-based project (“Indigenous
Tourism Development,” Annals of Tourism Research 20 [1993]: 729–50) and
J. Grekin and S. Milne’s analysis of the role of local people in influencing tour-
ism in Pond Inlet, Canada (“Toward Sustainable Tourism Development: The
Case of Pond Inlet, NWT,” in Tourism and Indigenous Peoples, ed. R. Butler and
T. Hinch [Toronto: International Thompson Business Press, 1996], 76–106).
24. The concept of the tourist gaze suggests that tourists wield power over
locals through the way that they look at them, coupled with expectations of
“authentic” behavior and appearance (John Urry, The Tourist Gaze: Leisure and
Travel in Contemporary Societies [London: Sage, 1990]).
25. Champagne, Social Change and Cultural Continuity, 59.
26. See L. Barber, New Zealand: A Short History (Auckland: Century Hutchin-
son New Zealand, 1989), 245; Hall, Mitchell, and Keeland, “Implications of
Maori Perspectives”; Dr. Walter/Kaajaakwtí Soboleff, “Tlingit Protocols: Form-
ing a Tlingit World View,” in Celebration 2000: Restoring Balance through Cul-
ture (Juneau: Sealaska Heritage Institute, 2000); and Central Council Tlingit
and Haida Indian Tribes of Alaska, “Our Way of Life,” Elders Forum on Tradi-
tional Values, 2004.
27. See, for example, Walter Goldschmidt and Theodore Haas, Haa Aaní,
Our Land: Tlingit and Haida Land Use Rights, ed. Thomas Thornton (Seattle:
University of Washington Press, 1998); and Waitangi Tribunal Motunui, Report
Findings and Recommendations of the Waitangi Tribunal on an Application by
Aila Taylor on Behalf of the Te Atiawa Tribe in Relation to Fishing Grounds in the
Waitara District (Wellington: Government Printing Office, 1985).

Bunten: More like Ourselves 309

 28. In the recent past the majority of Indigenous peoples living in rural, re-
source-rich areas of North America and New Zealand did not have a choice
in management of their lands confiscated by colonialist nations, and they were
forced by necessity to operate within a cash economy, working as laborers in
logging, mining, fishing, trapping, hunting, and agriculture. As the resources
that fueled these industries dried up, locals were driven into depression.
29. See statistics generated by the World Tourism Organization at http://
www.world-tourism.org; Samantha Jones, “Community Based Eco-tourism:
The Significance of Social Capital,” Annals of Tourism Research 32 (2005): 303–
24; Mariam Khan, “Ecoserve: Ecotourists’ Quality Expectations,” Annals of Tour-
ism Research 30 (2003): 111–12.
30. Footprints Waipoua was deemed one of eighty-two global “experiences of
a lifetime” and received an award from the New Zealand Department of Con-
servation for their Indigenous approach to ecotourism.
31. A marae is the cultural epicenter of a Maori community. It is the tradi-
tional communal meeting place where social events and ceremonies take place.
32. Tourism attractions that have an arts training component include the
Alaska Native Heritage Center, Saxman Village, and the Southeast Alaska Indian
Cultural Center (SEAICC) in Alaska and Te Puia in New Zealand. Some of these
venues are not Indigenous owned; rather, they are partnerships between federal
agencies (such as the parks system in the case of the SEAICC) and Indigenous
communities.
33. Sociologist Irving Goffman’s dramaturgical analysis of social relations is
a useful tool for understanding the tourism setting (The Presentation of Self in
Everyday Life [New York: Doubleday, 1959]). Using theater as a metaphor, Goff-
man likened social interaction to individuals or groups on a stage, in which
every participant has a role to play. “Backstage,” actors rehearse and adapt their
performance with fellow actors. Once “onstage,” they control their performance
through impression-management techniques. Actors take on specific, comple-
mentary roles of protagonist and antagonist. These role behaviors are implicit
and enacted time and time again as rituals for the front-stage interaction are
established. The audience influences subsequent performances. If actors deviate
too far from “the script,” they lose control over the situation, resulting in poor
impression management.
34. Barry Parker, “Developing Aboriginal Tourism—Opportunities and
Threats,” Tourism Management 14 (1993): 400–404, quote on 403. At the time
this piece was written, Parker, a member of the Okanagan Nation, served as
the chairperson of the Canadian National Aboriginal Tourism Association
(CNATA) and executive director of the First Nations Tourism Association
(FNTA) of British Columbia.
35. Peers notes this phenomenon of self-selection in Playing Ourselves. I also

310 american indian quarterly/summer 2010/vol. 34, no. 3

discuss this tendency for Alaska Native tour guides to work as educators, art-
ists, and culture bearers in facets of their lives outside of the workplace in my
forthcoming book, “So, how long have you been Native?” A Season Working as an
Alaska Native Tour Guide (Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 2010).
36. Max Weber introduced the “spirit of capitalism” in his book The Protes-
tant Ethic and the Spirit of Capitalism (New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1958),
widely recognized as a founding text in sociology. This concept posits that Cal-
vinism shifted the spirit of capitalism from traditional activities tied to moral
obligations to a rational pursuit of profit for its own sake guided by the Protes-
tant principle of “the calling.” While my thesis on Indigenous capitalism (sup-
ported by Champagne’s 2007 discussion on the subject) strongly contradicts the
idea that the entrepreneur is guided solely by individual, rational decision mak-
ing, I do not wish to imply that Western capitalism is a homogeneous entity.
This article is not the place to discuss the nuances of Western capitalism; but
it is important to note that “Western capitalism,” like “Indigenous capitalism,”
cannot be considered a “catch-all” definitive term and is extremely complex
across time and space within differing political, economic, and social contexts.
37. I define cultural sovereignty as the concept that tribal peoples have intel-
lectual property and ways of life that are protected and governed under tribal
law. From a tribal standpoint, cultural sovereignty is an inalienable right, stew-
arded by Native people, constitutive of Native identity, and part and parcel of
nationhood. For tribal governments, a working knowledge of how to assert and
protect cultural sovereignty is crucial in efforts to prevent outside appropria-
tion, exploitation, commodification, and otherwise misuse and degradation of
shared, community-based cultural and intellectual property; see Bunten, “Self
Commodification.”

Bunten: More like Ourselves 311