Why You Should Never Underestimate a Mountain—The Mount Fuji Climbing Accident and the “We've Come This Far” Trap
Japan was hit by heavy rain day after day last week. Floods and landslides occurred across the country, and every time I turned on the television, I saw warnings and evacuation information.
In the midst of that severe weather, two climbers died of hypothermia on Mount Fuji.
They had called for help, but the torrential rain and severe conditions reportedly prevented rescuers from reaching them immediately.
Watching the news reminded me once again:
Never underestimate a mountain.
What particularly struck me about this accident was that there had been several opportunities to turn back before it happened.
They Climbed Even After Being Told, “Do Not Climb Today”
According to news reports, staff at the trailhead urged climbers not to climb because of the bad weather, and warnings were also issued at a mountain hut along the route telling them to abandon their attempts to reach the summit.
Even so, some people continued climbing.
One of them was reportedly a climber from overseas. The person had traveled all the way to Japan, booked a hotel, paid the transportation costs, and arranged a schedule. The climbing season was also nearing its end.
“If I miss today, there will not be another chance.”
Perhaps that was what the climber thought.
But the mountain could not care less about such circumstances.
People Are Vulnerable to “We’ve Come This Far”
I came all the way to Japan. I have already climbed this far. The summit is only a little farther.
The more money and time people have already spent, the harder it becomes to give up. This is what is known as the sunk-cost effect.
But even if someone has come from the other side of the world, they have no choice but to turn back when the weather is dangerous.
The money and time already spent will not improve the weather now.
The Danger of a “Mountain Even Beginners Can Climb”
Mount Fuji has an image as a mountain that even beginners can climb.
But “even beginners can climb it” and “it is always safe to climb” are entirely different things. Mount Fuji is 3,776 meters high.
Even when it is hot at ground level, the summit is cold. When the wind blows and rain soaks your clothes, your body rapidly loses heat. In severe weather in September, it is a completely different world from walking through the streets of Tokyo.
There are no convenience stores, and no taxis will come. Even if you can call for help on a smartphone, a rescue team cannot teleport to your location.
In our everyday lives, we live in a society where we assume that someone will help us if we get into trouble.
In the mountains, that social infrastructure itself may be unable to reach us.
Videos Recreating Mountain Accidents Show the Same Patterns
YouTube has quite a few animated videos that recreate actual mountain accidents. I watch them occasionally, and after seeing several, similar patterns begin to emerge.
One is the sunk-cost effect.
“I came all this way.” “The summit is almost there.”
The other is unfounded optimism.
Even after getting lost, someone thinks, “This is probably the right way.” Even as the weather deteriorates, they think, “It will clear up soon.” Even after entering an unfamiliar route, they think, “There must be a trail once I get past this point.”
The problem is that there is no basis for that “must.”
They have not checked a map or identified their location with GPS.
They simply want there to be a trail, so they believe there must be one.
And when they find nothing, they think, “I’ve come this far, so I will go just a little farther.”
The sunk-cost effect combines with optimism.
That is what makes it frightening.
What Is the Basis for “Once I Get Past This Point”?
When I watch recreations of mountain accidents, there are many moments when I wonder, “Why didn’t they turn back here?”
But I cannot say with certainty that I would not make the same decision if I were there.
Turning back would make the previous several hours feel wasted. Meanwhile, it is easy to invent any number of reasons to keep moving forward.
“Just a little farther.” “It will probably be fine.” “Once I get past this point.”
The moment the human brain decides that it wants to move forward, it begins collecting reasons to justify that decision.
That is why the important thing is this:
The moment you think,
“There must be a trail once I get past this point,”
can you ask yourself:
“Why do I think that?”
If the answer is “just a feeling,” then it is not a judgment. It is a wish.
By combining “I’ve come this far” with “It will probably be fine,” people can walk themselves straight into danger.
Never underestimate a mountain.
And perhaps, even more than a mountain, the thing we must never take lightly is our own judgment.