| Nature of Risk: A Comparsion Between Climbing and Gambling Communities Article |
| Nature of Risk: A Comparsion Between Climbing and Gambling Communities   | 
| Page Type: Article Activities: Mountaineering | Page By: mrwsierra Created/Edited: Aug 8, 2006 / Aug 8, 2006 Object ID: 213750 Hits: 3163  Loading... Page Score: 88.67% - 15 Votes  Loading... Vote: Log in to vote |
Celebration of RiskSociety works constantly to manage and minimize risk. The best, and most prevalent, example of society’s hedge on risk is insurance. Of course, a buyer’s motivation of the purchase of insurance is to minimize catastrophic consequences, usual financial ones. Even those that hold billions of dollars of assets - bulk mortgage purchasers for example – require that each of their debtors carry homeowner’s insurance.
However, there are those groups of people that celebrate risk, often for its own sake. Two of these communities are the climbing community and the gambling community. Risk-takers are a different type in our society, not easily understood, except by those who share the highs and lows of the particular risk-taking experience, even if they have shared the experience on a far lesser magnitude.
An Overview of On-Line Climbing and Gambling CommunitiesThe most vibrant on-line gambling communities do not involve the shared experiences of mindless drones in a casino playing slot machines, chain smoking their way through a roll of quarters in five or ten minutes, hoping their ship will come in. Of course, the slots can extract quite a bit more than a few rolls of quarters. Just ask cultural values preacher William Bennett or golfer John Daly, who have lost at a minimum $10 million and $50 million respectively at high stakes slots, about that.
What separates poker from other gambling games is the obvious fact that poker is not played against the house, thus making it a game of complex strategy, one which seeks to extract the maximum from other players. This of course requires outthinking, out researching, and outworking the competition.
The intellectual stimulation undertaken by the gambler in the attempt to successfully apply risk management concepts to achieve success is one, not surprisingly, aided by discourse among those with a similar interest. Usually, it takes many years and a singular level of commitment and dedication to reach a high, or even perhaps moderate, level of proficiency. Does this sound familiar to the climber?
To probably the surprise of many, vibrant on-line gambling communities do exist, with forums much like climbing forums such as SP, Supertopo, or cascadeclimbers.com. The most interesting and diverse gambling forums center around playing poker, usually texas hold-em but other poker games are also the subject of discussion.
Often, the discussions involve treatment of sophisticated, cutting edge strategies designed to help members reach ever greater heights. Any poker aficionado or someone with a keen interest in the game should go check out sites such as www.twoplustwo.com. As I write this article, the main event of the World Series of Poker is heating up, an $11 million prize awaiting the last man – or lady perhaps – standing.
Having lurked in both on-line and climbing communities, and having semi-regularly played poker at on point (usually the $3/$6 hold-em game at a local tavern) and climbed a good – relatively speaking compared to some of SP’s more active climbing members- number of mountains over the years, I have observed a series of common threads (no pun intended) between the two communities.
Increasd Risk/Increased Reward/Increased SatisfactionForemost above them is a celebration of risk. Not surprisingly, the greater the risk undertaken, the greater the reward and the accompanying adulation and fame. Ask Reinhold Messner or Doyle Brunson about that.
Like those people who wish to graduate to technical climbing after climbing a number of Class 2-3 routes or those who are climbing 5.4 but are working their way up to 5.10, most avid poker players want to move up and “take their shot.” Of course, the bigger the game, the harder it is to beat.
Like the mountaineer, virtually any poker player will locate to reach a level that is beyond their skill level and is therefore no longer safe. This is actually a central theme in the on-line poker community and an overriding goal for a great many of the participants.
Wanting to play for greater stakes, and prove oneself at the higher stakes, is the only way to improve and move forward, the only way to greater achievement. No one remembers with the greatest fondness the easy adventures, but instead the challenging trips – the epics – often become the memories of a lifetime.
Like climbing, some players quickly move through the ranks to ever higher echelons while others seek a level for which they have comfort. Very few, however, remain at a level below our selected risk-comfort threshold. Almost all of us have limits.
Of course that risk-taker will certainly meet with disaster without a firm foundation of the higher-risk game and its intricacies, much like anyone who would approach a big wall or waterfall ice climb without even having trained and mentally prepared for such an occasion. Image playing poker with home equity loan money with people who can read minds better than a crack FBI agent or a polygraph machine. Welcome to the $300/$600 game at the Bellagio.
In most cases, both the high-stakes gambler and the master climber have taken many years to hone their craft to a point not even envisioned by those content at a more recreational levels.
For example, for me the difference between 5.10 and 5.12 is that at 5.10 I can see how to link up the moves but do not have the physical skills to succeed. At 5.12 I can’t even see where the holds are. At 5.8 or 5.9 I have a fighting chance, depending on my level of climbing fitness. At 5.4 to 5.6 I generally feel pretty comfortable, as long as adequate protection is available.
Both groups engage in non-stop application of complex algorithms of their respective trades, the climber constantly accounting for weather changes, number and difficulty of remaining pitches above, adequacy of equipment for a bivy, avalanche or rockfall risk, the climber’s own fitness and attitude and that of fellow rope-mates, the distance to the car, the condition of the rock or ice, tolerance for risk, all weighed against the dreams and aspirations of the climber.
For the poker player, the process of deciding to raise, call, or fold – while more sedentary than mountaineering– is much the same dynamic, constant evaluation of mathematical probabilities, betting patterns, hand history and mannerisms of opponents at the table, ability to tolerate and withstand risk, projecting an image for the other participants, qualitative evaluation of the odds of success, etc. Every single hand and every table is different, just like no two climbs, even of the same route, are exactly the same.
Unlike slots, roulette, or blackjack, poker played at high stakes is a very different game than the super-soft $2-$4 hold-em game at Bally’s in Las Vegas. Right now, there are no limit hold-em games in Vegas where hundreds of thousands of dollars are exchanged between participants in a span of less than a minute. Fortunes have been made and lost during the time it takes to read this article.
The huge variability of the “stakes” in climbing is much the same, as a walkup on Mount Ritter or Mount Conness bears no resemblance to an ascent of the Nose or any route up Mount Robson in the Canadian Rockies or anything in Patagonia or the Alaska Range.
However, it should be remembered even the walk-up routes on Ritter or Conness can be deadly under different circumstances. It seems as though more relatively inexperienced people have died recently on the Mountaineer’s route on Whitney than more experienced climbers have on harder routes nearby such as the East Face or East Buttress of Whitney or Russell’s Fishhook Arete.
Norman Clyde even noted this paradigm decades ago, stating that “properly equipped and careful climbers, however, incur less dangerous exposure on Class 5 and Class 6 routes than untrained men inadvertently may on Class 3 or even Class 2.”
As a strange side note, the principle of knowledge leading to wisdom does not seem to apply to concepts involving avalanche awareness, as detailed in Steve Larson’s excellent treatment of the subject in an article written some months ago.
Is All Risk-Taking Voluntary - Is Some Climbing Behavior Compulsive or a Symptom of Illness?Note: I attached this photo from Jeff Moore's gallery of gory images from his unfortunate rockfall incident. Although it seems obvious, I would like to make clear that Jeff - who seems like a pretty cool, responsible, and thoughtful guy from his posts and trip report detailing his injuries - is not a subject of this section of analysis, nor is any other specific SP member. I just included the photo to make the point of a potential negative consequence of climbing and mountaineering, some of which unfortunately require paying the ultimate price.
By the way Jeff, hopefully you are well on your way to completely healing -for many including me your accident brought home the fact that we need to be on our game when testing every foothold and handhold even in a rock paradise like the Range of Light.
DISCUSSION
The discussion of risk always leads to an analysis of how much is too much. As discussed above, that level of risk will always be dependent on the circumstances, innate characteristics, and hopes and desires of the player/participant. Even the effect of peer pressure can play a major role in the thought process.
For those who climb, the stakes are always the highest, every time out, so constant evaluation of one’s risk taking is prudent – and probably indispensable. From time to time, most, if not all, climbers, exceed their own acceptable risk threshold. Hopefully though, while we climbers and mountaineers accept and achieve objective challenges that fully engage our hearts, minds, and bodies, we do not regularly take on impulsive tasks that we feel to be well beyond our control.
Where risk taking becomes an unhealthy practice, or even a sign of a mental disorder, is one that the risk-taking community often does not like to address. The addiction to gambling is a common one – one with obvious consequences. There is a good reason the high rollers get their rooms comped at the Bellagio or the Wynn. Sort of a large tax on compulsive behavior, a tax flowing to those who need it least.
Pathological addiction to gambling, sadly an all too common occurrence for poker and non-poker players alike, has even been recognized by the psychiatric community as a form of “mental disorder.” In its simplest form the disorder, whatever is an inability to manage and control risk. However, it is equally obvious that most people who play poker do not have a gambling problem at all.
Nonetheless, diagnosing a compulsive gambler, one out of control, is a pretty easy thing to do if you know all the facts. Usually they have run up massive debts, conceal their addiction from family members, and are depressed and have often considered suicide. Surely any compassionate friend or family member would take heroic steps to try to save the degenerate gambler from the continuing downward spiral. That is certainly the human thing to do.
However, does that same risk/control/intervention line have a parallel in the climbing world? Are some of the members of this site or other on-line climbing communities “addicted” to climbing? Does addicted, in a climbing context, refer to (1) risk of life and limb without proper regard to consequences or does it refer to (2) a pattern of behavior – one that does not seem voluntary to the participant in a meaningful sense - where constant itinerant journeys to the high mountains and the crags cripples one’s employment and/or family relationships?
Putting aside (2), it seems as though the climbing community is resistant to suggesting that any fellow climber’s actions, as a climber, indicate a mental illness or addiction that requires intervention. Of course, there is no doubt that the great majority of 5.10 free soloists, 8,000 meter peak specialists, and extreme skiers enjoy good mental health despite the magnitude of risk involved. But, is this always the case with climbers who take grave risks? Can climbing be for some at heart an addiction worthy of adventure?
A video tape of the late Dan Osman speed running up the Lover’s Leap cliff has been seen by most of the climbing community on the Internet. I do not have the CV to comment on his climbing technique, but my visceral reaction is that of seeing a person with some degree of mental illness.
Others would vigorously disagree with that assessment, including those who may have known Mr. Osman. I am not trying to make an argument one way or another as to Mr. Osman, just sharing an observation almost certainly shared by many others.
Most climbers are at heart libertarians, but a missing element of the frequent recycled debates about the propriety of free soloing high angle rock or other risky climbing endeavors is a discussion of whether the actions of a minority of those free soloists are really a choice, as we all understand that term. A sad example is Lynn Hill’s portrait of the late John Yablonski, a man who had a tortured soul.
I only mention this because it seems to be missing from the frequent debate about the rights and wrongs of high-risk climbing, which is ad infinitum a war of words between those who decry the moral aspect of high-risk climbing with those who believe the level of risk they and others select is a personal choice.
No doubt, there are truths and virtues as to both sides of the coin. However, an ongoing, earnest examination of our actions and priorities of ours and those of our friends and partners is effort and time well spent. To do so thoughtfully is to allow all of us climbers and mountaineers (expert, moderate, and novice alike) to manage risk to the maximum benefit for happiness and contentment rather than letting the risk control us.
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