Psychological Pathologies and Hiking
Posted: Thu Sep 07, 2017 12:50 pm
We regularly hear about hikers who die from exposure to extreme conditions. Some freeze to death on Everest. Some die from dehydration in Death Valley. But do we really consider the psychological pathologies which cause such dangerous behavior? Often the recklessness and thrill-seeking is downplayed, and we dismiss the unpleasantness with a tired mantra: "At least he died doing what he loves."
Well, that saying doesn't provide valuable instruction to other hikers contemplating such daredevil action. Perhaps there should be a serious effort to expose what sort of thinking processes lead to such deaths by exposure. Instead of saying, "He died doing what he loves," maybe more attention should be paid to the possibility that he died because he was mentally ill. Or, if not pathological, probably extremely careless.
By not addressing mental illness in hiking, we allow it to color the public perception of hikers, and thus influence government policy in the wilderness. If people cannot be trusted to act rationally and safely in the mountains and deserts, then Big Brother must clamp down on our freedom of action. When an exhausted "hiker" is rescued from the scorching summer sun on the Skyline Trail, he is promptly let free, perhaps with a mild scolding and warning. But maybe he should be sent to the hospital for a psychological evaluation. And consider the stuck "hiker" who attempted a winter ascent of the Devil's Backbone sans proper equipment and training. Instead of a scenic ride to the nearest county park, maybe that helicopter should make a beeline for the closest county mental facility. Treating these subjects as normal people gives the impression that normal people can't handle such environments, and therefore the trails should be closed or more regulated.
In general, we treat this problem like it doesn't exist. Like all hikers are psychological equals, and major problems result from simple ignorance or "mistakes in judgement," when in reality some sort of mental illness seems like the more relevant factor.
Well, that saying doesn't provide valuable instruction to other hikers contemplating such daredevil action. Perhaps there should be a serious effort to expose what sort of thinking processes lead to such deaths by exposure. Instead of saying, "He died doing what he loves," maybe more attention should be paid to the possibility that he died because he was mentally ill. Or, if not pathological, probably extremely careless.
By not addressing mental illness in hiking, we allow it to color the public perception of hikers, and thus influence government policy in the wilderness. If people cannot be trusted to act rationally and safely in the mountains and deserts, then Big Brother must clamp down on our freedom of action. When an exhausted "hiker" is rescued from the scorching summer sun on the Skyline Trail, he is promptly let free, perhaps with a mild scolding and warning. But maybe he should be sent to the hospital for a psychological evaluation. And consider the stuck "hiker" who attempted a winter ascent of the Devil's Backbone sans proper equipment and training. Instead of a scenic ride to the nearest county park, maybe that helicopter should make a beeline for the closest county mental facility. Treating these subjects as normal people gives the impression that normal people can't handle such environments, and therefore the trails should be closed or more regulated.
In general, we treat this problem like it doesn't exist. Like all hikers are psychological equals, and major problems result from simple ignorance or "mistakes in judgement," when in reality some sort of mental illness seems like the more relevant factor.