In November 2024, an unprecedented decision reverberated across Navajo County, Arizona: the Navajo County Board of Supervisors (BOS) denied an application to build a 120-foot cell tower east of Snowflake. At first glance, this may seem like a small, local land-use decision. But beneath that surface lie deeper questions about health, disability rights, the environment, and the complex interplay of federal and local authority. These dynamics are nowhere more evident than in the way tribal and off-reservation communities in the continental United States struggle to influence cell tower placement—a struggle rooted largely in the Telecommunications Act of 1996 (TCA).
The TCA, enacted nearly three decades ago when cell phones were still a novelty, has severely limited local and state governments from considering health concerns and other critical human factors when reviewing proposals for wireless infrastructure. Its legacy: corporate interests often take precedence, leaving communities with few tools to shape their own landscapes. As technology marched forward, cell towers became a ubiquitous part of the American environment. Yet, while some communities attempt to push back—fearing health impacts, property value depreciation, environmental harm, or the infringement on culturally or ecologically sensitive areas—most find themselves powerless to stop these projects.
What happened east of Snowflake is extraordinary because it shows that despite the heavy burdens imposed by the TCA and federal telecommunications policy, a well-organized community effort, grounded in civil rights and disability accommodations, can still sway local decision-makers. In this particular instance, the presence of a unique, environmentally ill (EI) community and the recognition of their rights and needs gave the BOS a solid legal and moral framework to reject the tower. The question is: why was this scenario so different from the countless others playing out across the country?
This post will explore the distinctive dynamics that allowed the Navajo County Board of Supervisors to say “no,” examine why off-reservation communities typically face nearly insurmountable barriers in doing the same, and discuss how amending the Telecommunications Act of 1996 could restore balance and empower local self-determination.
A Landmark Decision in Navajo County
On November 12, 2024, after two public hearings and hours of impassioned testimony, the Navajo County BOS denied the permit application for the White Antelope Wireless Communication Facility—a proposed cell tower to be built east of Snowflake. The tower’s intended location was near a specialized community inhabited by people with severe multiple chemical sensitivity (MCS) and electrical sensitivity (EHS). This Environmentally Ill Community (EI Community), about two miles from the proposed site, is one-of-a-kind: a rural refuge where approximately 35 households live in specially built or modified homes designed to minimize exposure to chemicals and electromagnetic frequencies (EMFs).
This community formed decades ago with the support of the State of Arizona and the Old Concho Community Assistance Center. Its residents moved there to escape the urban centers rife with pollutants and pervasive electromagnetic fields. Many depend on the area’s relative isolation from wireless signals and other triggers. For them, a cell tower close by isn’t just a nuisance—it could be life-threatening.
The hearing featured a remarkable convergence of perspectives: environmental illness sufferers, realtors concerned about property values, local leaders expressing reluctance to bow to corporate pressure, and even federal disability rights law came into play. In the end, the BOS voted unanimously to deny the application, citing concerns over health, civil rights, and the obligation to provide reasonable accommodations to disabled residents. This was a powerful moment of local governance acting in the interest of its most vulnerable constituents.
A Rare Victory: Understanding the 1996 Telecommunications Act
To understand why this decision is so exceptional, one must understand the stranglehold that the Telecommunications Act of 1996 places on communities. When the TCA was passed, it aimed to modernize and expand America’s telecommunications infrastructure, encouraging competition and innovation. However, it also included a critical provision—Section 704—that explicitly prohibits local governments from regulating cell towers based on “environmental” or “health” concerns related to radiofrequency emissions.
At the time, policymakers believed this prohibition would expedite infrastructure growth and prevent “Not In My Backyard” (NIMBY) sentiments from stalling the expansion of wireless communications. While well-intentioned, this clause effectively gagged communities from referencing health impacts in cell tower siting decisions. Over the decades, as research accumulated suggesting possible health risks from chronic EMF exposure, local officials found their hands tied, forced to rely on limited sets of criteria—often aesthetics, height restrictions, or zoning details—when confronting cell tower proposals.
The TCA shifted the balance of power toward wireless companies. Appeals to property values, local environment, or even community well-being were often dismissed as secondary to the federal mandate of building a robust telecommunications network. This federal overreach essentially disempowered local governments, leaving them ill-equipped to say “no” to corporate proposals.
Disability Rights and Civil Rights as a Loophole
The Snowflake case is instructive precisely because the BOS’s denial was not primarily framed as a health matter in the traditional sense. Instead, it leveraged arguments related to civil rights, disability law, and non-discrimination. Several community members asserted that erecting a cell tower near the EI Community would violate the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA) and other disability rights protections. These individuals are severely impacted by EMFs and have moved to the area specifically to escape them. Many had already been granted disability accommodations by Navajo County to allow them to testify remotely in the hearings.
The ADA requires public entities to provide reasonable accommodations to people with disabilities. In this scenario, approving a tower that could seriously harm or drive out those with severe sensitivities could be seen as a failure to provide such accommodation. This is a groundbreaking argument because while the TCA forbids rejecting towers based on health concerns, it does not explicitly remove the obligation to comply with disability laws or civil rights statutes. The BOS recognized this interplay and felt compelled, both morally and legally, to deny the tower.
Their decision acknowledges that while the TCA restricts environmental and health considerations as grounds for denial, it does not supersede civil rights law. By grounding their denial in disability rights and the unique nature of the EI Community, the BOS found a legally sound reason to say “no.”
Why Off-Reservation (Non-Tribal) Lands Struggle More
If one were to replicate this scenario anywhere else in the continental United States, the odds of achieving a similar outcome would be slim. Most communities lack the unique demographic composition and documented disability accommodations that this EI Community possesses. Generally, when a cell tower is proposed in an average suburban or rural neighborhood, the arguments against it tend to revolve around aesthetics, property values, or general concerns about possible health risks. Under the TCA, the latter is off-limits.
Without a clear and protected class of individuals whose civil or disability rights are at stake, local boards frequently cave to industry pressure or risk federal preemption. The TCA’s “shot clock” rules—timelines after which a pending application is automatically approved if a decision isn’t rendered—further compress the window in which communities can debate and organize.
Additionally, communities outside of Indian Country or specialized areas like Snowflake’s EI enclave do not benefit from the potential complexities and nuances of tribal sovereignty or specialized settlements. Tribal lands, for instance, often have unique legal frameworks that can offer additional layers of protection. Though the Snowflake EI Community itself is not on a reservation, it benefitted from state-supported housing, established decades prior, and recognized accommodations that set a precedent. In contrast, a standard U.S. county with no such community typically cannot argue discrimination against a protected class when protesting a cell tower.
Moreover, large swathes of the continental U.S. face significant hurdles when trying to leverage the ADA in cell tower disputes. Proving that a particular group of disabled individuals resides in the area and will be harmed disproportionately by the tower is challenging. Even if some residents claim sensitivities, without formal recognition or a documented history of the area serving as a refuge for people with disabilities, local governments struggle to deny permits on these grounds. The Snowflake case is extraordinary because the EI Community had the organizational cohesion, legal recognition, and credibility to make a compelling case that a cell tower would wreak havoc on their health and lifestyle—a claim that resonates differently than a generic health concern.
The Chilling Effect of Federal Preemption
Another reason why off-reservation communities find it hard to successfully challenge cell towers is the looming threat of legal battles. The TCA gives wireless companies a robust platform to sue municipalities that reject applications. In these lawsuits, federal courts often focus narrowly on whether the local government violated the TCA by considering improper factors, such as health concerns related to RF emissions. If the local authority cannot produce a legally permissible reason for denial—like discrimination, technical non-compliance with zoning codes, or a documented legal obligation to protect a certain vulnerable group—courts typically side with industry. This risk of litigation creates a chilling effect on local boards, who would rather approve a tower than endure a costly legal battle they’re likely to lose.
In the Snowflake case, the BOS and community members meticulously documented their reasoning. They demonstrated that the decision was not about abstract health fears but about protecting a known disabled population from environmental triggers that threaten their lives. This careful framing reduces the likelihood that a court will deem their reasoning preempted by the TCA. Nevertheless, the risk remains. The BOS’s unanimous denial also sends a message that there was a clear, documented rationale—one that hopefully stands up to judicial scrutiny.
Calls to Amend the Telecommunications Act of 1996
The Snowflake decision has reignited calls to revisit and amend the Telecommunications Act of 1996. Critics argue that the TCA’s prohibition on considering health concerns is outdated and anti-democratic. Since 1996, science has advanced, and research has pointed to potential non-thermal biological effects of RF radiation. Communities have legitimate reasons to worry about EMF exposure, property values, and environmental integrity. Moreover, the rise of 5G and other advanced technologies, accompanied by a proliferation of smaller but more numerous cell sites, amplifies these concerns.
Lawmakers, consumer rights groups, environmental advocates, and disability rights activists suggest that the TCA should be updated to:
- Allow Consideration of Health and Environmental Data: Local communities should have the right to review credible science and exercise precautionary principles. Federal guidelines could be modernized to incorporate non-thermal effects and update exposure standards.
- Restore Local Autonomy: The TCA currently represents federal overreach, preempting state and local powers. Amending the Act could restore a measure of local control, allowing communities to reject or modify tower placement if it unduly burdens residents or threatens local values.
- Enhance Civil Rights Protections: The Snowflake scenario highlights that people with disabilities face unique vulnerabilities. Ensuring that the TCA is not at odds with other federal laws like the ADA would clarify that local governments can and should protect disabled residents from harmful infrastructure deployment.
- Mandate Better Corporate Accountability: Telecommunications companies could be required to engage more transparently with communities, exploring alternative sites or technologies that minimize harm, rather than forcing localities to accept towers wherever corporate interests dictate.
Such reforms would align with constitutional principles, environmental stewardship, and the evolving scientific understanding of RF radiation’s potential impacts. While it’s uncertain whether Congress or the President would undertake such amendments, advocacy is growing as more communities encounter similar battles.
Tribal Sovereignty and Other Avenues of Resistance
Though the Snowflake EI Community is not on a reservation, their success is somewhat analogous to battles fought by tribal communities trying to protect their lands and ways of life. Tribes, thanks to their unique legal status as sovereign nations within the U.S., sometimes have more leverage to negotiate or reject projects that harm their cultural resources or endangered species habitats. Off-reservation lands do not enjoy these same protections, and community identity is often more diffuse. Without a recognized tribal government or a documented population of disabled residents, the ability to wield sovereignty or civil rights law is diminished.
In the absence of tribal sovereignty or a special-needs community, off-reservation communities face an uphill battle. They must rely on zoning technicalities, aesthetic guidelines, or infrastructure redundancy arguments—tactics that rarely succeed under the TCA’s constraints. The Snowflake decision is a blueprint not easily replicated elsewhere.
The Balance Between Connectivity and Community Rights
One reason the 1996 TCA passed with bipartisan support was the widely shared vision of a connected America. At a time when the internet was in its infancy, policymakers and corporations alike believed widespread wireless coverage would stimulate the economy and improve public services. Today, connectivity is indeed critical. Cell towers enable high-speed data, support emergency communications, and foster economic growth. The desire to improve connectivity is not inherently evil; many rural communities yearn for better reception and faster internet. The challenge is balancing that desire with legitimate concerns about health, property values, disability rights, and environmental integrity.
The Snowflake case demonstrates that the narrative isn’t always “NIMBY” obstructionism. Sometimes, communities have deeply legitimate reasons to question and reject infrastructure projects. The onus should be on telecommunications companies to engage with communities, consider alternative sites, collaborate on minimizing EMF exposure, and respect sensitive populations. Rather than bulldozing local concerns with federal preemption, the law should encourage cooperative problem-solving.
A Possible Future: Transparent Guidelines and Meaningful Dialogue
If we imagine a future where the TCA is amended or replaced, what would it look like?
- Transparent Science-Based Standards: Local boards would have access to updated FCC guidelines that consider the latest science, including non-thermal biological effects of RF radiation. Communities could lawfully raise health concerns, consult medical experts, and require mitigations such as altering tower height or power output, or exploring fiber alternatives where feasible.
- Clear Legal Pathways for Civil Rights and Environmental Justice: Rather than hiding behind vague prohibitions, the revised legislation could clarify that localities must weigh the interests of disabled and vulnerable populations. This would ensure decisions respect ADA protections and other civil rights legislation. In essence, it would affirm that the TCA cannot override other federal and state protections.
- Incentives for Collaboration: Instead of the current top-down approach, the federal government could incentivize telecom companies to work with communities. Grants or credits might be awarded to companies that minimize community opposition through thoughtful placement, community benefit agreements, or deploying lower-impact technologies.
- Mechanisms for Appeal and Mediation: Rather than pushing disputes into the federal courts, which are costly and time-consuming, a reformed system might create mediation processes. Stakeholders could come together, assisted by neutral experts, to find a compromise that improves service without eroding local quality of life.
Such reforms would represent a long-overdue pivot from a one-size-fits-all mandate to a more nuanced, people-centered approach. The Snowflake decision could serve as an early signpost on this journey, showing that when communities and local governments stand firm on principles of fairness, disability rights, and the sanctity of place, they can influence the trajectory of telecommunications policy.
Conclusion: A Victory of Principles Over Policy Gaps
The Navajo County Board of Supervisors’ denial of the White Antelope Wireless Communication Facility application east of Snowflake is about much more than just a single cell tower. It’s a rare instance where a community overcame the strictures of the Telecommunications Act of 1996, not by confronting them head-on with outlawed health arguments, but by reframing the issue as a civil rights matter involving a vulnerable, disabled population.
This approach threads a needle that is, in most contexts, unavailable to off-reservation communities in the continental U.S. Typically, such communities face insurmountable legal barriers, as the TCA prevents them from considering health impacts and leaves them vulnerable to costly lawsuits. Without a unique demographic situation like that of the EI Community, denial of a cell tower application would almost certainly fail.
For lasting change, the TCA must be revisited. Given what we now know about wireless radiation, property rights, community well-being, and civil rights, it’s time to grant localities a say in shaping their physical and electromagnetic environment. The Snowflake case proves that with careful legal reasoning and strong community solidarity, even the most entrenched federal restrictions can be navigated. But this should not have to be the exception that proves the rule. Communities everywhere deserve the right to protect their health, their property values, their environment, and their way of life.
Let the Snowflake decision stand as both a beacon of hope and a clarion call for federal reform. It is, in its essence, a reminder that democracy is strongest when communities have a voice—and that voice is heard and respected.
