Is climbing a meaningless selfish pursuit?

Some weeks ago I spent an evening at an rock climbing film event, after walking out of the theatre, I found myself surprisingly…….uninspired. All of the films feature a similar story line: the protagonist finds a dream line, doubting their purpose in life when they can not send, and then finally sends. End of the story.

Maybe it’s because I’ve consumed too much climbing media, such plots has almost become too cliché.

What is the point? Who cares? Ross Reid wrote in his blog post Is Outdoor Recreation a form of Resource Extraction: “All of these sports (climbing, skiing etc.) are an inherently selfish, ego-driven pursuit with absolutely no broader significance to the world.”

As climbers, our culture endorses the dirtbag lifestyle. We praise those who live in a van, live on the road and those who quit their jobs and pursuit climbing full time. Does this prove that climbing is indeed “a selfish pursuit with no broader significance to the world”?

How do we find meaning in a meaningless sport such as climbing?

How do we make sense of climbers dying in pursuit of their goals?

I’ve always enjoyed reading articles from Evening Sends. Hayden Kennedy wrote in his piece: “ Over the last few years, however, as I’ve watched too many friends go to the mountains only to never return, I’ve realized something painful. It’s not just the memorable summits and crux moves that are fleeting. Friends and climbing partners are fleeting, too. This is the painful reality of our sport, and I’m unsure what to make of it. Climbing is either a beautiful gift or a curse.” Hayden passed away in 2017.

“They died doing what they love.” People say that as if it makes it ok. I think that’s bullshit. If you ask any of them, sure they loved what they did, but all of them would’ve wanted to come home safely.

Should we call every climber who tie in the the rope “irresponsible”?

Should every climber be shamed for risking their lives in pursuit of elusive summits?

Is it fair to stop someone from doing what they love?

What if when what they love to do would potentially kill them?

Is climbing doing anyone other than the climber any good?

We claim our love for the environment, yet we are responsible for massive amount of greenhouse gas by flying to places to embark on climbing trips. We scrub off moss and eliminate vegetation from virgin rocks to claim the “first ascend” and call the process “cleaning”. Are we just hypocrites blinded by our insatiable need for climbing?

Morales-Armijo et al. studied the effect of opening climbing routes on the cliff side ecosystem in El Potrero Chico, Mexico (DOI: 10.1111/1365-2664.14785). The bottom three photos show the vegetation an lichen recorded before the route was developed and after subsequent ascends.

How does climbing fit into the “real life”? I have gone through the phase of “nothing else matters in life if I can just climb”, which is certainly wrong.

Climbing is a privileged sport. People say the climbing in Mexico is great and living there is cheap. That is true for those who are from first world countries. We go and live in nice campsites built for foreign climbers, spend 1/5 of what we would back home on food leave when we get tired and call it a wonderful trip.

We rarely saw any local Mexican climbers, climbing certainly is not their priority.

People are dying of hunger and children are dying in wars. Why the fuck are we so wrapped up in our stupid little climbing goals?

If you think I am just throwing out questions that I do not have answers to, you are right.

I have never been a goal oriented climber and I can not care less about the grade, but I do think one can find meaning in ticking the next hard sport climb. I get scared easily and love turning around before an outing turns into an epic, but I do think reaching the summit is not completely meaningless.

But if the goal is what one only cares about, I think they are missing the big picture. There will always be “the next hard project” and “the next futuristic alpine objective”. I find it hard to justify the endless chase for “the next”.

To me perhaps the deepest meaning is never found in climbing itself, but in stories shared around a campfire, jokes made by that one optimistic friend when things had gone to shit and the conversations had on the approach to the base of the climb.

Of course the summits reached and projects ticked are memorable, but they are not the most important things.

I do however, believe that even though climbing is a selfish pursuit, it makes us better humans.

Climbing has taught me the importance of taking calculated risks and letting go of what is outside of our control. It has also helped me build friendship and partnership with good people and it has taught me how to laugh when shit hits the fan.

Maybe that is good enough?