Skis are vehicles, and like any vehicle, they can be driven well or poorly, so we can say that skiing is a technical pursuit. Ski technique refers to our comprehension of the consequences and interdependence of our movements and actions while operating these vehicles.
By technique, we refer to any action that is carried out by knowing how, in terms of the relationships between the actions we execute and their outcomes. Furthermore, by incorporating biomechanics and physics, we will acquire a comprehension of why.
According to Arnold Gehlen, technique is determined from the beginning by vital reasons. In the Gehlenian interpretation, our biological constitution is confronted with a largely hostile environment because of our insufficient natural equipment. Since we lack resources, we rely on technification in terms of skis, boots, clothing, grooming, lifts, etc., and on technique as a foresighted, planned, and specialized actions through which it is possible for us to adapt to the mountain natural conditions.
Technique is an inevitable consequence of the need to master changing situations in a mountain context. In considering the reciprocal relationship between ourselves and technique, we see that we are not only creators, but also creatures of technique in its elaboration and in our shaping through the technique that we ourselves have created.
It is clear that technical interpretations correspond to a time and a culture; they correspond to a correlation of technical languages and images with which our good faith as skiers is wrapped. If faith is only one, then technique is also one, with multiple interpretations.
Each one of the technical interpretations is a construction made in another culture, at another time, and with other elements. When a technical concept or way of skiing becomes transcendent, mobilizing and enlightening all members of the activity, its strength is not in itself, but in the social context in which it arises. However, if every innovation in technique is necessarily linked to a previous situation, does the technique form the skier, or does the skier form the technique? Are the athletes responsible for developing new and better techniques, or do the new techniques lead them to become better athletes?
In fact, we are not interested in the technique employed by a particular skier, but rather in a technique that can be executed by anyone, which guarantees the success of our skiing without consuming all of our own energy.
Is there a parameter that explains the difference between right and wrong skiing? Is it a matter of efficiency or aesthetics? If there is no absolute technical parameter, it means that every technical theory has an absolute value and that every technique is valid, but each one in a different way. But if, in one way or another, every technique is valid, then, in the same way, no technique is valid. Is it that we need to insist on a certain criterion that tells us the correct technique from an incorrect one?
Even today, the tendency towards dogmatism persists, aimed at disqualifying individuals who do not practice skiing as we do. We remain dogmatic because we cling to our technical culture as if it was truth and the other skiers were wrong.
The only technical truth for everyone is what to do: to shift weight and to change edges, while the relative technical truth is how to do it, that is, in what order. This is a personal creation, an art of our own.
When we observe others ski, we develop theories about their techniques and look for evidence to confirm them. If the evidence does not support them, we rectify them. For example, in skidding we observe a skier who skids and we theorize that he does not know how to ski, but if we then notice a racer skidding his trajectory to adapt or modify the downhill line on a slalom course, that induces us to modify our theory about skidding.
Each theory brings a different approach to skiing knowledge, which implies looking at skiing reality from a different perspective. Therefore, it is significant that the skiing concepts are not mutually exclusive but rather complement each other.
The implication of this statement is that the technique is the result of the advantages it provides. The reduction of muscular effort, the safety in the face of terrain deformations, and the pleasurable sensorial aspects of skiing are only possible if we are willing to accept the real connections of our technical performance.
By utilizing the instrumentalization of a technical acting, we enhance our abilities and performances, broaden our inherent biological limitations, and create a space that is conducive to diverse technical actions. Together with the concrete effects of execution, our technical acting is influenced by the emotional realm; therefore, we cannot confirm a psychological neutrality of ski technique.
It is true that technique is not reserved for performance enthusiasts, speed freaks, or racers, for whom every hundredth of a second counts. Technique can also improve the charm of a silhouette and bring confidence, as technical gestures can also be elegant. Compared to ordinary movements, the ski technique can be molded to our body by refining our appearance.
We could say that relativism is the belief that there is no absolute skiing that guides our behavior. All ski techniques are equally effective, depending on how they are used. If we believe that only our technique is authentic, then we are using it in service of our ego. If this is the case, the transformation of technique into ideology can lead to a false sense of superiority, while simultaneously causing a division among skiers.
