Wednesday, May 1, 2013

Unrest on Everest: Some Thoughts on Leisure and Capital

Over the past weekend the climbing world was afire with reports of a high-altitude confrontation between three elite Western mountaineers and a group of native Nepali climbers (I am no longer certain that "Sherpa" is appropriate usage) high on the Lhotse Face of Everest. There are literally dozens of accounts of the incident but the best are probably from UKClimbing and Planet Mountain. The apparent underlying cause of the incident, which involved verbal and physical assault as well as death threats, was a perceived encroachment on the terrain and tasks that the Nepali group was involved with as they were fixing ropes for the spring season on the regular route. I won't relate or try to reconcile the varying accounts of what happened, and I am sure that the final word has not been said (nor may ever be said) about what actually happened. Certainly the incident was serious enough to cause Ueli Steck to state publicly "My trust is gone. I could not go back to this mountain."

One of the issues that is lying just below the surface in many of these accounts is the uneasy relationship between the native economy, native labor, and Western capital. I am not sure how much it is a matter of public record the degree to which Nepal depends on a regular infusion of money via the single destination of Everest's summit. There is no question that Nepal is not a rich country by Western standards and that tourist and mountaineering traffic is a crucial economic benefit. Even for an American or European of means, Everest is a substantial investment of time and money, an investment that, by the way, sees no reciprocity from Nepalese citizens in terms of their ability to travel to America or Europe to climb. Nor is it clear to me exactly how the entire country of Nepal benefits from this kind of activity. I am not sure that the interested parties would be entirely enthusiastic about this question being explored more deeply. There is no question in my mind that the lack of clarity regarding even terminology for "Sherpas" and what they do and how they are paid reflects the problems with a relationship that has its roots in an oppressive colonial past, a past that reverberates into the present.

This brings me back to the deeper problem, one that the climbing world seems reluctant to face, that climbing is, at its heart, a pursuit of the economically privileged often in areas of the world where such privilege might be viewed with suspicion and hostility. I think climbers like to believe that somehow by expending time and capital (which in the West are pretty much the same thing) in a pursuit that is basically useless, that somehow it's innocent or at least innocuous. Climbing narratives return time and again to freedom and appeal to the notion that in the mountains you are somehow free of the structures of society. In the eyes of one author, "Everest is not for climbers" because of "the dues—not dollars—I believe one should pay in order to be granted access to earth’s most rarified places." To me, this sentiment illustrates perfectly the myopia in the climbing world, the failure to see that dues paid in the mountains, any mountains, (I can't help but think of them a bit as country clubs here) are intimately linked with dollars and their relatively easy availability. I agree with the thesis that Everest is now a site dominated by commercialism. But ultimately so is every other major climbing area, to some degree or another. I look at the price of climbing equipment, tickets for flights to far-off places, opportunity costs for not working and I ask, "Who can afford this?" The myth of "dirtbag" freedom and the realities of economics rudely collide in our culture, which bestows, with documented increasing regularity, its economic blessings on an ever-narrowing caste, a caste which defines itself in no small part by rituals of recreational consumption, whether on the slopes of Everest or elsewhere. The freedom of the hills requires fairly high start-up costs for most of us.

I don't expect too much analysis of the 2013 Everest season to dwell on these deeper issues. So much media energy is spent on creating images (verbal and pictorial) for consumption by sponsors and consumers alike that it is inevitable, indeed even essential, that the tensions highlighted by this tragic episode be papered over and the parties involved agree to an uneasy truce. The show must go on. But responsible writers on this episode, in my view, will have to return to this fundamental contradiction at the heart of the sport, that our pursuit of freedom and personal fulfillment will ultimately have a cost to someone or something, somewhere.

12 comments:

Anonymous said...

Yeah ... things cost money. what's your point?

Peter Beal said...

Is Everest a thing? Are people things? Should we support exploitation of labor and degradation of the environment so we can fee "free/" Is there a limit to the market's power to determine value?

What is your point?

Anonymous said...

Well thought ourt and written. it come sdown down to first world clibmer problems.... and respect. Whether they consciously did it or not, the climbers disrespected the sherpas.

Anonymous said...

Given your use of the phrases "oppressive colonial past" and "exploitation of labor", I am not sure you will find the following persuasive, but let me try.

Nepal is reeling in poverty, with a per capita gdp that is down there with Haiti and Afghanistan. Sherpas do extremely dangerous work, and as far as I can gather they are neither oppressed nor exploited. They are paid wages that they use to buy goods and services within their own communities, providing economic benefits that would otherwise not exist.

I am sure Nepal has more than its share of corruption, but I would not be so quick to blame market economics (or whatever/whomever you are trying to blame) on pathologies that have far more to do with human nature and the choices made by individuals.

Anonymous said...

What labor were these guys exploiting? And don't you think the "sherpas" would prefer exploitation on Everest for several thousand dollars a year (not a lot for hard, dangerous work) than unemployment and $300 a year as is the average income? I never understand these exploitation arguments--as if when western climbers disappear from Nepal, all will be happy again. The only thing that will change is that we won't hear anything about the exploitation, oppression and misery of poverty, because no westerners will be there and we won't care.

Anonymous said...

another poorly thought out post on m&W!

Peter Beal said...

Another poorly thought out anonymous comment! Can you provide specifics?

As to the previous comments, I said nothing about exploitation of native labor in the original post, other than to point out the very different economic positions of the parties involved. However, it seems clear enough that, despite the rhetoric of "freedom" that climbing adopts, native labor pays with its life regularly so much richer people can have fun. True they get paid well by Nepali standards but why not get paid by Western guide standards?

Personally I applaud the efforts of those who want to raise the standards of education and training for Nepali climbing guides, porters, etc so they can act autonomously and shape the future of climbing in Nepal in a way they see fit, as happened in Europe.

Peter Beal said...

I would also add the words of Ueli Steck " “The Sherpas have worked here for many years and they are the rich people in Nepal, and they have gained a lot of power. But on the other hand they see all these westerners making all that money. And there is a huge gap between them and the westerners. What happened up there is the display of anger that has been growing for years. It is the rift between two worlds and the jealousy has grown over years.”

Maybe he would know what he is talking about?

Anonymous said...

good post and the comments are interesting on this site as they seem balanced , who knows what will happen on everest but from an amatuer perspective id say it should be closed for climbing , let the mountain have some peace for awhile, mankind hasnt been so kind to this one peak that has attracted so many, its been good to so many peeps and others it has taken but it remains there still and should be given a rest, for amatuers they arent climbing for money like the pros and sherpas do so it changes the mindset of the entire game we play , from the beginning the amatuer most likely cant afford to get to the himalaya any how but when they do they game plans is much different than the average pro or sherpa at work, amateur are seeking sometheing else than names , numbers , crowds, money , fame and so on the professional alpinsist agenda is quite different but heck im just an amatuer

Anonymous said...

Peter,

Excellent post. We are all hypocrites to varying degrees. And you are right to shine a bright light on the climbing world's most notable hypocrisy.

Anonymous said...

who knows but if I was to go to the himalaya I sure as snow wouldnt go to everest to climb it , with so many other peaks to choose from, call it what you will but Id rather go elsewhere, perhaps thats the amatuers mindset

Justin Schott said...

Thanks, Peter -- I struggle with this as a climber a lot and have scaled back a great deal. I was trekking in the Indian Himalayas a few months ago and even there the economic dynamics made me squeamish - being asked how much money I make, how I can come over for vacation, etc.

To people who question whether Sherpas are being exploited, I have a question: If these are Nepalese mountains, why aren't the guiding companies that reap $100k+ owned and run by the Nepalese? To say they choose a better paying job than most (at considerable risk) but have no possibility of advancing to management or ownership (because they have no start-up capital and limited access to Western clients, not to mention the language barrier) strikes me as something you would only say having never taken a step in a poor person's shoes. If you think Sherpas are the beneficiaries of beneficent capitalism on the mountains, there might be an opportunity to look a little deeper.