The Ethics of Everest…
Everest season has just come to completion. As usual, it was
filled with stories of success and failure, grand achievement
and broken records. But, with all the fantastic news coming from
the mountain this spring – including Apa Sherpa logging an
incredible 16th (yes, SIXTEENTH!) summit – there were
disheartening signs of the changing ethical landscape on the
slopes of Everest.
In the following article I would
like to share with you some of my thoughts about ethics and
priorities on the slopes of Everest. I will begin the following
with the caveat that I was not on Everest this spring, and thus
speak from afar, from a perspective of 20/20 hindsight. But,
having been on the mountain 5 times, I feel that even from this
perspective I have some insights into the situation.
On the evening of May 14 and the
morning of the 15th, David Sharp, a 34 year old British climber,
lay dying just below the First Step on the Northeast Ridge
route. Reports indicate that roughly 40 people walked past him
en route to and from the summit. No one stopped to lend the man
a hand. No one was willing to sacrifice their summit, their
dream, to help a fellow human being.
Perhaps there was no possibility
of rescue. Perhaps David would have died regardless of
assistance from other climbers. Either way, the actions on the
mountain this spring beg the question: How much is the summit of
Everest worth? Do mountainous goals legitimize the sacrifice of
our humanity and compassion?
Having had the good fortune to
stand on top of the world twice, I can say with certainty to
anyone caught in a similar situation in the future: The summit
is not worth the sacrifice of one’s humanity. Yes, reaching the
top is a wonderful experience. But, in the end, the summit is
merely a small patch of snow sitting upon a big hunk of
rock…and thus is not material for sacrificing humanity.
On the morning of May 7, 2001, my teammates John Race, Tap
Richards and I had just begun our summit bids on what was my
second expedition to the mountain. En route to Advanced Basecamp,
we encountered Tibetan yak herders carrying two injured Chinese
glaciologists down the mountain. Both men were suffering from
advanced pulmonary and cerebral edema; if left unaided, they
would soon die. Our decision was simple: We aborted our summit
bid and began the arduous task of carrying two men down the
Rongbuk Glacier. I blew out my knee in the rescue, ending my
expedition with a resonant POP…but both Mr. Gao and Mr. Li
lived to see their families again.
Three weeks later, my teammates
were going for the summit via the NE Ridge. During the course of
their summit bid, they ended up abandoning their summit hopes to
rescue 5 people – 3 Siberians, one American, and one Guatemalan.
The final rescue took place a mere 45 minutes from the top. Did
they hesitate? Not a bit. Again, the tiny patch of snow lying at
29,035 feet is just that…a patch of snow. It will be there
next year, and the year after that. And, in the end, standing on
it does not change one’s life. Reaching out to change the lives
of others – no matter how short those lives may last – does.
In his famous book Zen & The
Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, Robert Pirsig writes: To
live only for some future goal is shallow. It’s the sides of the
mountain which sustain life, not the top. Here’s where things
grow. I would add to Pirsig’s observations that it is on the
sides of the mountain where we grow, not on the top. And, there
are times when that growth comes from sacrificing our own goals,
dreams, and ambitions to reach out and assist others.
We must have goals in our lives,
and we must aim for those goals, go after them with everything
that we have and everything that we are. But, the important part
of our goals is not reaching the end mark, crossing the finish
line, but rather the experiences on the sides of our mountains.
And, again, sometimes we must let go of Machiavellian ambitions,
sacrificing our ambition so that we don’t sacrifice our
humanity, echoing the words of Martin Luther King, Jr.: there
comes a time when one must take a position that is neither safe,
not politic, nor popular, but one must take it because it is
– by Jake Norton