In the past few years, more and more Americans have woken to the same, horrendous realization – all this technological progress, all the luxuries available to us, have all been a faustian bargain. We can see this laid bare in the rise of generative AI, heralded by STEM sociopaths. Art, writing, expression, is not supposed to be content to keep us occupied when on idle. There is beauty in struggle, in imperfection, in actively existing. In response, we’ve seen more people attempt to peel away from their screens or get away into nature. Yet even these earnest attempts have been co-opted and streamlined – the revolution will be televised, marketed, commodified, and uniform. A million crunchy moms singing in unison about “breaking the matrix” inspired by facsimiles of themselves, selling what you need to get away from consumerist society. A million outdoors influencers with identical kit, talking about the same things, over the same soundtrack. I, least known among them.
Where am I going with this? Into the woods. More and more people are going outside, for reasons I’m set on exploring. A substantial outdoors industry has developed in conjunction, catering to every need, niche, and nagging worry. That, to me, is the irony of it all. People often cite a desire to get away from modernity, away from technology, to be one with nature, as their reasons for going out into the backcountry. Of course, to go into nature properly you need cutting edge satellite tech, backpacks designed by former industrial engineers, tents using the most cutting edge fabrics and poles, the list goes on. I’m not speaking from any relative elevation to others – I love my inReach Mini, I gush over new gear design, and am guilty of judging others on trail, on water, at the crag, for not being adequately “prepared.”
It might be argued outdoor recreation is already hard enough, there’s already enough danger as is, that it’s reasonable people should want the best gear available. I don’t disagree, but I do wonder where the line is. The newest inReach Messenger Plus allows users to send photos and voice memos from anywhere. Why? Why can’t people wait? But why is that where I draw the line? I get the need to be able to contact first responders when in the backcountry, even the need to be able to contact somebody at home with a quick status update. Reasonable precautions that benefit everyone. Adding in the capabilities to check weather updates, or check your GPS coordinates on an interactive map, sure – but photos and voice memos are just a bridge too far, at least for me. We’re recreating the needless excess a trip to the backcountry should be cutting.
I think one of the flaws of the 20th century environmentalist movements was this belief that once people go out and experience nature, they’ll feel compelled to protect it. Isn’t that part of the belief behind protecting public lands – the more people visit public lands, the more people there’ll be who see the benefit in them, and the more land they’ll call to be protected. This message has been co-opted by the outdoor industry, that they’re different from other industries of excess because they end up being a net benefit for the environment. I just don’t think this is the case. Don’t foresters, miners, drillers, all get to see what they’re destroying? Don’t their bosses?
Some folks just don’t care. There’s those who view art as content, trees as lumber, mountains as mines, and parks as playgrounds. That’s the concern I have as we continually push for more accessibility to parks. If a customer at REI can’t put an item back where they found it, I have zero faith they’ll pick up their trash at a summit. Not everything is for everyone. I recently watched that Nat Geo Into the Canyon film where these two guys section hike the entirety of the Grand Canyon, while also advocating for its protection. On indigenous land, there’s a vote centering around a proposal to have a commercial development at the bottom of the canyon, allowing anyone a “below the rim experience.” One of the head developers argues, to paraphrase, that people who are against the development are elitist and anti-accessibility, that everyone deserves to experience the Grand Canyon in its entirety. Fuck that guy. Nature isn’t a theme park. It isn’t inherently safe. If you can’t respect it and accept it, don’t go. Some things in life still require effort.
I’m not innocent, though. There’s more reasons than beauty and recreation that make land worth protecting. Not everything has to be anthropocentric. Yet, I judge parks off of what there is to do and see, fixating on what the land can do for me. I bemoan influencers and then go dashing off with my camera in tow, trying to find all the right shots with all the right light to post on here. That’s not inherently bad, it’s “leave only footprints, take only pictures” after all, and I’d like to think I’m responsible. Still, though, that doesn’t absolve me of the criticism I direct towards others.
Maybe the issue is in the term public lands. The reservation and permit systems have become increasingly prominent as more areas experience overcrowding while our agencies are systemically defunded. I see folks raise hell, saying that these are public lands and that people can do whatever the hell they want with them, as the public. In the North Country, one of the biggest pressure points I’ve seen is anger over the state government continually buying up lands to protect them and all the regulations that come with that. Folks argue they already have an incentive to conserve their lands by virtue of it being their lands, and that government regulations just create needless bureaucracy with no net benefit. The point of protecting lands, though, isn’t simply to conserve it for future generations. Nature doesn’t exist for us to clear our heads. It exists at the benefit of itself.
Again, though, where do you draw the line? What makes someone “worthy” of experiencing a summit? If they don’t follow LNT, can I legally push them off? Probably not. Circling back to technology, I love that satellite messengers now allow for folks to get help in genuinely harrowing situations. At the same time, this tech gives a false sense of security and has meant more people are venturing out further, beyond their capabilities, with a belief technology can fill in the gaps of their incompetence. You don’t need stronger calves, you need better shoes. You don’t need stronger shoulders, you need a lighter pack. You don’t need to minimize interactions with wildlife, you need bear spray. You don’t need to be prepared, you need a satellite communicator to get airlifted when you’re in over your head. This isn’t to say better shoes, a lighter pack, bear spray, or a satellite communicator aren’t all good and useful things to have, but they should be additions to, not replacements for competence.
Sometimes you do need to get in over your head and get out by your wits alone. It’s how we learn, how we grow. The issue is tech can sometimes let us get so deep that as soon as one piece fails we find ourselves drowning in the deep end, the lifeguard paid off by a shady white South African dweeb. We should experience risk, danger, not be infantilized and shielded from everything. And then get a good greasy burger afterwards, looking worse for wear and a hair scratched up. There’s a line though. A line between risk-taking and suicide. A line between reasonable preparations and infantilization. A line between tech being to our benefit and to our entrapment. A line between being alive and just being. As is the case with a lot of these pieces, there’s a myriad of different points that all could be construed as the central point depending on what speaks to you at a given time. There’s a lot of contradictions here, as is the case with life. I’m asking more questions than I have answers. There’s a lot of themes I’ve barely touched on here that I think are worthy of longer deep dives in the future – gear as cultural capital, what the purpose of protecting land is, conformity and co-option in countercultural movements, where safety becomes a crutch. Much to be said, but no words yet.