In the article continuing the topic of risks, we will examine a more complex danger equation. Based on it, we will evaluate common judgments related to sporting and commercial routes.

The article is more complex than the previous ones and is intended for an audience that does not find all the answers in guidelines and rules. It continues the ideology of the previous articles but provides a more detailed answer to the question of why we still get into accidents, even though we seem to be doing everything correctly and according to official guidelines.

In the previous chapter, we analyzed real examples of event loops - perhaps the most terrifying phenomenon on a route, when a series of unfortunate decisions traps a group in a loop where each subsequent step leads to a depletion of resources, and after a qualitative reduction, the participants perish. In two of the three cases we analyzed, the group's experience significantly exceeded the complexity of the declared route.

As harsh as it may sound, these examples divide the audience into two conditional and polar categories. The first category believes that the events of the loops were obvious from the start and that they can avoid similar situations on their routes. The other half, on the other hand, understands that we are not always able to control the situation, especially in large groups.

The division I mentioned does not depend on the experience of hiking and climbing, in terms of their quantity and quality. In this article, we will examine in detail why this is the case. However, the material is intended specifically for the second category - those who want to travel safely in conditions of high uncertainty and do not indulge in illusions of control.

Simplified Risk Equation

In the previous chapters, we considered two types of risks: inherent NR, which nature itself creates, and generated GR, which we create ourselves.

In a simplified form, the danger on a route will be expressed through the aggregate of all risks, both inherent and generated. This is logical, as the higher the sum of all risks, the higher the probability of an accident on the route.

Thus, we have the following risk equation:

danger = risks + concern

danger = (inherent risks NR + generated risks GR) + concern

danger = (NR₁ + … + NRₙ + GR₁ + … + GRₙ) + concern

In this form, the equation comes to us from the Soviet era. It clearly shows how the totality of what is happening around us (weather, avalanches, rockfalls, terrain, frost, etc.) together with our readiness and problems (ability to use warm clothing and set up a camp, psychological climate, physical and technical preparation, etc.) form the danger of a particular event occurring.

The idea itself is very clear and working. Let's take another look at the components of the equation:

· Danger - the current level of how much the situation is capable of leading to undesirable consequences.

· Risks:

o inherent (NR) - those given by nature: terrain, altitude, weather, remoteness, cold, objective exposure (how long we are in harsh conditions);

o generated (GR) - those given by people: planning, tactics, group composition, technique, discipline, psychology, erroneous decisions.

· Concern - an additional factor of our assessment of reality and reaction to it:

o sometimes useful (forces us to reduce GR),

o sometimes harmful (disrupts the logic of decisions, brings panic into our adventures, forces us to reduce speed, etc.).

As an intuitive model showing a simplified view of danger and still allowing us to understand the patterns of risks, the formula is quite working.

What's wrong with it then?

A record of the form:

danger = NR₁ + … + NRₙ + GR₁ + … + GRₙ + concern

implies that:

a) all risks are measured in the same "unit", even if it's conditional;

b) they simply add up, that is:

o doubling one risk = doubling its contribution to the total;

o no cross-effects like "two small risks together give one giant risk".

In reality, on a route, it's not like that. Most risks scale unevenly.

For example:

o at a temperature of -15 degrees, a wind speed of 5…10 m/s is unpleasant but still tolerable;

o at a temperature of -15 degrees, a wind speed of 20…25 m/s is already a different world.

There are also questions about the combination of risks. Separately, risks may not seem so scary, and their mathematical sum is also not that impressive.

But, for example:

fatigue + inexperienced team + lack of adequate belay + dangerous terrain

Here, it clearly doesn't make sense to count the sum. We have a virtually guaranteed accident in this case.

That is, to be honest, we should write the danger equation in the following form:

danger = F(NR₁…NRₙ, GR₁…GRₙ, concern)

where F is some strongly non-linear function.

It's not that simple with concern either.

We have two patterns with concern:

      Concern arises as a reaction to risks (real + imaginary);

      It simultaneously affects risks in return:

a) can reduce generated risks (we start to be more cautious and double-check everything);

b) can increase them (panic, haste, conflict in the group, tunnel vision).

In essence, with concern, we're talking about two formats of risk - objective, where concern is not taken into account, and subjective, where concern is present because there are people on the route with their fears and overconfidence. If we're talking about guidelines and rules, then, of course, there's no concern in them - they imply ideal psychological stability of the group and its ability to make decisions instantly from the necessary point in the mountaineering guide. This has very little to do with reality, although it doesn't deny the need for such guides.

Therefore, subjective risk is, as it were, our "real" risk on the route.

In that case, if R is the risk, then:

R_objective = NR₁ + … + NRₙ + GR₁ + … + GRₙ

R_subjective = R_objective + ψ(concern)

where ψ(concern) can be either a positive or negative value:

++useful anxiety++ → +control, +accuracy → actual danger decreases

++destructive anxiety++ → panic, mistakes → actual danger increases

That is, in the model we're building, by danger, we mean not just physical risk but a combination of objective factors (NR+GR) and the mental state of participants (concern), which determines the likelihood and severity of events.

If we keep in mind that this is not a physical formula but a verbal-symbolic formula for analysis, then everything is fine, and we can build on it.

No risk equation, no matter how advanced, can become a physical formula, as risk is impossible to measure outside of casinos and artificially modeled situations, especially if it's related to rare events.

Objective Risk as a Complex Function

This section can be skipped by readers who are not interested in the mathematical logic behind transforming the "old" risk formula.

However, above, we noted that danger is expressed through a complex function, as risks add up in a very non-linear way.

Despite the fact that our formula is verbal-symbolic, let's express objective risk through a complex function, where the calculation of generated risks GR will be an external function, and the calculation of inherent risks will be an internal function, with exponentiation - where the exponent is a floating algorithm.

The general structure will look like this:

↗We can write the internal function, that is, inherent risks, as follows:

↗

↗That is, the harshness of the environment and the group's mistakes change the system's reaction force to further enhancement of NR. The inherent risk (NR) itself becomes unimportant in isolation; here, we see its qualitative, even abrupt enhancement depending on environmental conditions (6A rocks at +20 and -40 will represent a colossal difference in passage) and our current risk generation (for example, whether or not we lost gloves at -40, and what kind of boots we have).

The effect of the environment on us can be described as follows:

↗

↗Refining the Environment

↗

Why We Can't Reduce Risks in Hiking to Zero?

↗

↗That is, a world is assumed:

· without unexpected earthquakes;

· without sudden actions of other people;

· without rare medical events;

· without man-made surprises.

But this is already a methodological world for paperwork, not the physical reality around us.

In reality, B is never strictly equal to 0. At most, it's "very small but non-zero".

Consequences:

a) Risk cannot be eliminated; it can only be redistributed and reduced. As soon as we hit the route, the parameter E automatically becomes greater than 0. And as soon as a person chooses a route, time, group, and equipment, the parameter G immediately appears.

The most important thing here is that as soon as we acknowledge in our minds that we don't know everything, B>0 immediately appears in the equation. If we don't acknowledge it, however, it still doesn't disappear from the equation - it just greatly increases the parameter G. That's the kind of injustice.

b) Any hike is a bet on uncertainty, not its cancellation. Planning and experience reduce the generation of risks G, partially reduce E through the choice of optimal conditions, and slightly affect B - for example, we try not to go into unstable regions or regions affected by war.

c) Zero risk is possible only in two states: 1) we didn't go anywhere and are thinking from the couch; 2) we're drawing a model where we заранее threw out everything inconvenient and called it "safety". Perhaps both options are widespread.

Finally, the very fact of human action is already a generation of risk. Even ideal behavior doesn't zero out risk; it just makes the consequences more manageable.

Therefore, any safety methodology, any risk assessment system is only a model. It includes E and G - what we were able to see and discuss. But there's always a tail B - events that the model doesn't contain. And a "honest" guide or instructor differs from an "dishonest" one in that the "honest" one directly acknowledges: "Yes, this tail exists. We can make it smaller, but we can't destroy it". They may express it in different words or actions, not necessarily from Nassim Taleb's books, but the idea will be similar.

People who tell us that risks can be excluded demonstrate that they're working not with reality but with a methodological myth - and this is especially toxic for tourism and mountaineering.

The same logic is then transferred to medicine, aviation, nuclear energy - everywhere where, instead of honest work with uncertainty, they like to draw "complete safety".

Let's say it again:

o planning can't make it so that a glacier stops being a glacier;

o a storm - stops being a storm;

o altitude - stops affecting the body.

Here, it should be explained in more detail about "black swans". This concept was introduced by philosopher Nassim Taleb. It means rare events of destructive force that are difficult or impossible to predict, either in themselves or in their consequences. In our case, under parameter B, we mean not only black swans but also small events that are rare and unpredictable and occur with very low probability. The point is that these small events are insignificant for society; they're even insignificant for us when we live in a city, except for mood and some financial or time losses. On a route, due to the much greater impact on us of the harshness of the environment (which is not smoothed out by urban conveniences) and generated risks, even random small events can literally kill us with their consequences. A perfect example is the theft of my knife by a fox on the Polar Urals just half a minute after I emerged from a snowstorm-buried tent.

More cunning figures resort to a trick. They call it "reducing risk to a negligible level".

What's wrong with that?

Two things.

First - what does a negligible level actually mean? If it's the level at which we don't have to worry psychologically about anything because everything is "correctly" planned, then that's more related to the parameter ψ, that is, concern. Psychology and internal perception are about it, not about risks.

The second thing, much more important: the fact of resource depletion as the duration of the hike increases is ignored. The supply of food and fuel decreases, deadlines with pre-purchased non-refundable airline tickets are approaching, fatigue accumulates, physical resources inevitably decrease due to forced energy deficit (although they say any guide can feed on prana), equipment wears out and gets lost, the psychological climate undergoes changes, minor ailments and injuries wear people down, and finally, people just want to go home (although they may claim otherwise), and their attention to the environment decreases. Meanwhile, the dice of tail values B continues to be thrown. Our faith doesn't stop this hand throwing the dice. And what exactly will come up on the next face, we don't know. But the group's resources are already depleted.

Thus, it's impossible to avoid risks, especially large and significant ones, as the impact of the environment can be very harsh and not always predictable. Moreover, the parameter E, being a sum, can be very high simply due to the aggregate, not necessarily having one single high value of a specific risk that is included in the equation.

Why We Can't Generate "Negative" Risk

Many hike and climb leaders appeal to so-called "super-planning". According to their point of view, it's possible to prepare for a route physically, strategically, and tactically so that risks are reduced to near-zero values.

But, according to our formula, in this case, the risk we generate must be negative. That is, our decisions, thinking, and physical condition regarding the route are supposedly so ideal that they anticipate the development of any negative events from outside and within the group.

Let's turn on both logic and reality.

High physical fitness always carries risks in itself, allowing and provoking us to do things that a weaker person wouldn't do. That is, this risk is not high, but it's there.

In turn, super-planning also costs time, just like gathering and packing products, physical training, and training with equipment, visualization, and everything else. Based on the Pareto field, during the preparation stage, if we devote excessive time to one thing, we can't devote time to another. That is, in an ideal system, we have super-planning, and it's indeed achievable in practice, but in practice, it automatically generates risk because it doesn't leave room for everything else. In other words, preparation is always a compromise. Here, we see some analogy with polar expeditions - a good plan alone doesn't save an expedition.

Why is G always ≥ 0?

G is the additional risks that our decisions and actions generate beyond inherent risks (E).

Ideally, it's when we don't add anything to the system, and then G = 0. In reality, the ideal is unattainable, and everything we do adds something, more or less, but still G > 0.

Let's look:

a) High physical fitness itself generates risks:

A strong, fit person:

· can tackle more severe E simply because they "can handle" it;

· starts to choose:

o more complex routes,

o harsher seasons,

o longer autonomy.

That is, their physical fitness:

· reduces the risk of "not being able to handle" a given E on the route,

· but at the same time provokes choosing a more severe E on their hikes.

In terms of the model:

· physical fitness reduces the probability of failure given a certain E,

· but at the same time shifts upward the very E that a person voluntarily signs up for.

Therefore, thinking that G < 0 based on "I'm super prepared" is incorrect: at the system level, this is not "minus risk" but "a new risk zone".

Any medal has two sides. The negative side of high physical fitness is precisely that. The positive side is also there: a significant expansion of the zone of possibilities.

b) Super-planning has a price and generates its own risks:

And again, the Pareto principle: our resource is one - time, strength, attention.

If we go into hyper-detailed planning but don't have time to:

o properly develop physical fitness,

o or sufficiently test equipment in the field,

o or train real behavior in a difficult situation,

then we reduce uncertainty in one zone (paper-planning), but increase G in other zones because:

o the body is not ready,

o the psyche is not ready,

o the equipment is not tested.

That is, "super-planning" is just a redistribution of risks. It got better somewhere, worse somewhere else, but the final sum is unlikely to have decreased as much as we want.

Thus, preparation is always a compromise. Every effort in one place creates a "shadow zone" in another.

When we talk about good planning, it doesn't mean that we bring generated risks to zero. But it also doesn't mean that preparation is unnecessary. It's just that any improvements at the preparation stage are aimed not only at reducing G but also at reducing E and minimizing ψ. Under the same external conditions, our organization better withstands the harshness of the environment, and our system is less sensitive to its fluctuations.

In this case, we're not trying to deny risk in this world, but we're slowing down the growth of R when E increases and reducing the initial E we agree to when choosing a hike and route.

We can observe this very well in examples of polar expeditions from the past. You can make a brilliant route plan, but underestimate the health of participants, inflate the scientific component, and impose a lot of political and reputational restrictions. And the final R still flies into a zone where it was a close call - and the entire or almost the entire expedition perishes.

Momentary Risk and Accumulated Risk

On a route, we essentially always deal with two layers of risks. They're expressed by the same equation but are, as it were, in two dimensions.

The first layer: momentary risk - how dangerous it is right now (the given slope, the given weather, the given fatigue). Momentary risk can both decrease and increase, and fluctuate.

The second layer: accumulated risk. Essentially, this is the accumulating chance of getting into something nasty over the entire route.

Accumulated risk always grows as long as we remain on the route. At a minimum, we have more throws of the dice, and the group's resources gradually deplete. Therefore, every day in exposure is an additional ticket in the lottery of troubles.

And yet, this doesn't mean that at the end of the route, it's always more dangerous than at the beginning.

Important: momentary risk may not grow over time but may even decrease.

· decreases - we descended from the plateau into the valley, compensated for fatigue with rest, the weather improved, got out of the zone of avalanches and crevasses;

· grows - fatigue accumulates, teams are tired, concentration decreases, fuel is running out, deadlines are approaching - GR grows, E remains the same or grows;

· jumps - transition between zones, change in terrain types, weather changes.

That is:

· locally, we can very significantly reduce risk (with good decisions, acclimatization, tactics, rest).

· globally, along the route, the accumulated chance of "getting into something nasty" grows simply because we continue to spin inside the E+G+B system.

A crucial nuance: experience and adaptation slightly slow down the growth of risk but don't cancel it out.

There's another interesting point. At the beginning of the route:

· the group adapts,

· gets along,

· gets into a rhythm,

· starts to better feel the snow, terrain, and their own body specifically on this hike.

That is, momentary risk can decrease as we "get into it", especially if the first days are made easier, and learned patterns really reach automaticity.

But then:

· fatigue starts to accumulate,

· micro-injuries,

· equipment losses,

· psychological exhaustion,

· deadlines and resources are tightening.

And then momentary risk often starts to grow again.

As a result, it takes on a cumulative form: at first, it grows slowly; then it may slightly level out (we adapted), and closer to the end, it usually grows faster again (fatigue+deficits+tight deadlines).

In hiking and climbing conditions, exiting the route is the only honest way to stop the growth of the total probability. Everything else is just managing how fast it grows and how severe the consequences will be if something happens.

"If You Got into Trouble, You Must Have Been Unprepared"

This is a classic accusation against groups that get into accidents or adventures.

It's worth noting that, overall, this logic is not without foundation for some groups. But it's not applicable to all.

When turned around, this statement is typical and boils down to the general scheme of the world's justice: "If you were good, nothing would have happened; and since it happened, you're bad".

The statement ignores three things:

      The level of E - the objective harshness of the environment. If we've been hiking for decades in zones with high E (complex mountains, winter, autonomy, etc.), it's logical that we'll have more non-standard situations and more interesting stories than someone who at most goes on initial category hikes.

      Exposure - how many hours, days, and years we've been under risk. Evaluating "he had N troubles" without considering that he spent, say, 1000 days in the mountains is statistically meaningless. A person who was in the mountains for 80 days and didn't get into trouble isn't necessarily smarter. They just haven't been exposed for long.

      The nature of the consequences. What matters isn't the fact "something happened" but what exactly happened; whether it repeated; how the group got out; whether there were serious injuries and fatalities.

A person who had many tough situations and 0 fatalities is, in most cases, not an indictment but a strong indicator that they can keep G under control and resolve the situation when E and B hit them hard.

At the same time, the position "I'm alive, so I did everything right" is also a trap, but of a different sign.

Survival is a result of our preparation plus our decisions plus a certain amount of circumstance. It would be strange to say "I did everything ideally" because experience helped somewhere, luck was on our side with the weather, and details coincided.

An objective position looks like this:

"I'm alive not because there were no risks but because:

```
      there were many risks,
```
```
      some were inevitable (E),
```
```
      some I created myself (G),
```

      but I systematically worked on making the total sum not finish me off.

      And yes, sometimes I was just lucky".

Without the last component, there's no honesty or objectivity.

Unfortunately, in the outdoor environment, everything often comes down to post-factum moralizing like "any non-standard situation = crime".

The basic thought is: Non-standard situations in a serious environment are not a bug but expected statistics. If we hike long enough and complex enough, something will go wrong. The question isn't how to avoid all this "wrong" but:

reduce the likelihood,
reduce the severity of the consequences,
know how to handle it.

In turn, zero accident rate in a complex environment over a long period is either a myth, a lie, or very little exposure. "I've been doing this for 20 years without a single incident" usually means that: a) either the person hiked very little; b) or they were very cautious, but then they have almost no experience working with a real bad situation (although they might imagine it); c) or they're just not telling everything.

Why Accumulated Probability Grows and How Hiking Differs from City Life

So, above, we examined that the risk on a route is momentary and accumulated.

Let's go over again why accumulated risk grows in our hiking case.

We have two reasons.

The first reason is exposure as such. It's fair for both a hike and time on a peak, and time in a cave. Even if resources supposedly don't decrease, fatigue doesn't grow, and conditions remain the same, we still live inside E+G+B every day. Even if the probability on each throw of the dice doesn't change, the number of throws grows. So does the accumulated probability. Thus, the longer we stay in conditions with non-zero risk, the higher the chance that at least one branch will materialize.

The second reason lies in the almost inevitable degradation of resources, except for very special events. It's logical that if we have replenishable resources from outside, then autonomy decreases, and so does the sportiness of the event.

Among resources, we're not just talking about food and fuel. The adaptation cost - the cost of the body's response to stress, physical and psychological - becomes more expensive as the route progresses. Simultaneously, the psyche accumulates fatigue, irritation, and anxiety. Through this, in turn, momentary risk grows because more mistakes are made due to fatigue, and we become more prone to bad decisions. The reserve needed to fight off off-system events B also decreases. That is, as we progress on the route, our resources dwindle, and we don't "recharge" - there are no conditions for it.

City life is characterized by the fact that the dice is thrown much more frequently. That is, parameter B for us as individuals (not for society as a whole) in the city is significantly higher. Transport, crossing roads, household injuries, diseases due to overcrowding, numerous conflict situations - provide an endless number of probabilities, their diversity, and their inevitability.

But - parameter E is fantastically different. In the city, we have, with the presence of at least rental housing, infrastructure that smooths out almost everything: frost, blizzard, etc.

Parameter G is also smoothed out by infrastructure. Medicine, fire department, police, logistics, again a hot shower and a warm blanket.

The main thing is that in the city, we have an endless reboot of resources. For most citizens, food is available in unlimited quantities. Yes, its quality may be low with incomes below a certain threshold, but still, most people can afford to eat without an energy deficit. Again, when we sleep in a warm home, not in the cold of a tent and a raw sleeping bag, adaptation is significantly cheaper and doesn't drain our overall resource. At the same time, if we usually can't leave a route except by somehow reaching the end, in the city, we have the ability to stop activity - quit our job, take a vacation, or go to the hospital. Quitting a route is often only possible by going to the afterlife.

In the city, the accumulated chance of getting into something nasty grows throughout life. Sooner or later, it happens. But the distribution of consequences is different: we get a lot of "small stuff", but tail values "right away and forever" are rare and spread across the population. At the same time, we shouldn't forget how much more we generate risks in the city: driving a car (especially a motorcycle), alcohol, interaction with government institutions, going to someone else's wife, messing with other people's dogs, and so on and so forth. That is, all the things that are usually absent in the mountains due to lack of opportunity. And yet, we rarely pay the real price for our love of adventure in the city. In nature, we pay the real cost. And this is precisely what commercial tourists don't understand.

Pseudo-Sporting Trips to the North Pole and Commercial Mountaineering

What do you think: how many teams have gone from land to the North Pole and back to land on their own, without external supplies, i.e., in complete autonomy, over the last 50 years?

The answer: one.

Only one team did this, in 1995 (Richard Weber and Mikhail Malakhov).

And what about all the others, you ask?

Three options: either they're flown out from the pole by a plane (i.e., their condition and state when they reach the pole is completely irrelevant); or fuel and equipment (including dogs) are brought to them along the way by a plane; or both.

That is, the phrase "went to the North Pole" sounds impressive. But - there's a nuance.

Therefore, when we say that fuel won't magically arrive by helicopter in the middle of the route, this most likely indicates that we didn't go there and didn't do it that way.

Most such trips are made with external support. Naomi Uemura is one of the few who wrote about the external supply system in great detail in his book "One on One with the North".

In turn, trips to the pole in one direction, even if they're autonomous and without external supplies, imply not only that we'll be picked up at the pole but also that we'll be picked up along the way if it becomes too much or problems arise. Yes, problems can arise that are so serious that we perish before the plane arrives. There have been 2 such cases in the last 50 years.

In essence, we're talking about a very developed infrastructure and, overall, almost a complete lack of sport regarding the North Pole. It's turned into the same status thing as commercial high-altitude ascents, like Everest.

For our E/G/B model, these are excellent laboratory examples, and we're examining them here only for that reason.

Commercial high-altitude mountaineering and "trips to the North Pole" with support fantastically reduce E: a plane pulls out resource problems on the way to the pole; on the summit, there are ready-made ladders, camps (with fuel, oxygen, and food), and trails; there's always a weather forecast and communication; there's a possibility of evacuation.

The infrastructure is so powerful, both under the peaks and under the pole, that, in essence, natural E is replaced by infrastructure-smoothed E.

On trips to the pole, it's quite normal, in addition to external supplies, that we're dropped off further away or helped to overcome large water gaps.

On commercial ascents, Sherpas fix and carry all the heavy loads, camps are ready, and oxygen solves half the problems of altitude.

That is, in both cases, from the model's point of view, the real natural E is still very harsh (temperatures, altitude, wind), but the effective E_eff is lowered due to the infrastructural "mattress".

Infrastructure here makes a subtle trick:

· objectively E_eff decreases,

· subjectively, many people's perception of risk decreases.

Therefore:

· people go with less preparation,

· worse mental and physical fitness,

· weak skill in making independent decisions,

· complete faith in "the guide will handle it, the rescue service will come, the navigator will show everything".

Thus, we artificially lower E and provoke an increase in G because people with a fundamentally different profile enter a zone that was previously accessible only to very prepared individuals.

To this are added the following points:

· organizational G: commercial pressure "the client must climb";

· economic G: big money and therefore high willingness to distort exit criteria;

· group dynamics: "I paid, I came, and I prepared", hence the well-known resistance to reasonable retreat.

As a result, E_eff is low, but (1 + kG) grows.

Why is this "pseudo-sport" for our model? Because there are external attributes of sport (peaks and poles, reports, photos, sometimes even records), but the essence of the sporting component - managing oneself and risk in conditions of high autonomous E - is often already absent.

What's there instead? Infrastructure and money eat up a significant part of E; and to compensate for this, the industry imperceptibly creates a new field G: under-trained clients, commercial compromises, overloading guides, and using local porters as a disposable resource.

↗

For the general public, an illusion is created: a) since people go to the North Pole, it means it's already like regular tourism, just a bit colder; b) since people are taken to Everest and other heights in crowds, the more massive it is, the safer it is.

The fact that E is reduced by infrastructure is perceived as "the type of activity becomes generally safer".

In fact:

· E was cut,

· but G and "black swans" B are still there,

· plus a whole layer of moral and social risks was added: exploitation of porters, trash, traffic jams on routes, crowds, delays at key sections (which itself generates new E and G).

At the same time, the reduction of parameter E doesn't occur equally for all elements of the system. For organizers and the industry as a whole - yes; for clients - partially; for those who work "at the bottom of the pyramid" - often the opposite.

Distortion of Concern Factor Ψ in Commercial Routes

One of the problems of commercial mountaineering is the wrong distribution and distortion of the concern factor.

That is, on such routes, concern often occurs in the wrong people and about the wrong things.

Let's recall why we need concern in the risk equation.

↗

Adequate concern is our protective mechanism. It forces us to prepare, double-check decisions, and, importantly, turn back in time. Adequate concern has a negative value in the equation and reduces risk, both by its value and by reducing G.

The absence of concern creates an illusion that "nothing will happen to me", leading to an increase in G.

Excessive and neurotic concern leads to panic and tunnel vision, increasing risks due to the value of Ψ and due to the growth of G.

Ideally, concern should be high in those who make decisions and are physically in the zone of E, and should be directed towards survival, not "reaching the summit on time".

Now, let's apply this to commerce.

      Client: artificially lowered concern.

The environment E is perceived by the client as controllable because they paid money; they have a guide; there are tracks, camps, ladders, radios, and "somewhere out there" a helicopter; marketing directly states "this is safe if you follow instructions".

The client subconsciously outsources responsibility for risk outside their head, based on the logic: a) the guide is responsible for safety; b) the operating company won't kill them. Based on this, the client's concern is much lower than it should be and isn't adequate.

At the same time, the client has high G due to weak physical fitness, insufficient altitude experience, not understanding subtle signs of danger, and a tendency to succumb to group pressure - like everyone else is climbing, so they are too. The client will mostly deny this, claiming their condition and everything else is perfectly suitable and that they paid for it.

The client sincerely believes that "danger ≈ almost zero because I'm in good hands".

Guides: chronically overestimated concern that can't be honestly expressed.

The guide has a lot of concern, and it's generally justified: they see real E; they understand that clients aren't up to it; they know how thin everything can turn out. At the same time, they're pressured by the client's money, the company's reputation, "the percentage of successful ascents", and their own ambitions and fatigue.

As a result, officially, the guide must convey calmness, but internally, they might be burning out, making decisions in a state of chronic stress, and pushing people further, although their inner anxiety is already screaming "we should be turning back". This scheme itself increases generated risks G.

The system as a whole: concern is shifted from "survive" to "deliver the product".

The commercial format adds one important layer of distortions

Accidents on Hiking Trips. Part 5. The Danger Equation.

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