The best climber: the fetishization of 'fun'

How many times have you heard someone say this or something similar? 'The best climber is the one having the most fun.' This quote is thrown around ad nauseam, often to make the rather bland assertion that it's nice to be nice and fun to have fun, regardless of performance, fulfilment and other concepts slightly too complex to be shared on a Facebook meme. This quote has always jarred with me personally, but I've never really tried to articulate why. Obviously it's trite, and casually dismissive of those who actually want to (God forbid) improve at their chosen sport. It takes for granted that a vague concept of 'fun' is a more laudable goal than climbing 9b+ after a lifetime dedicated to training and self sacrifice.

Fun, fun all around.

Another thing is that it's so demonstrably false. If it were even slightly true, climbing media would laden with heart-warming reports of people cruising up easy slabs instead of what it actually is: reports of dedicated people working really hard at difficult or dangerous objectives. In effect, the phrase functions as a get-out clause, a way that smug people can pat themselves on the back for not really achieving anything, and lawd knows we don't need any more of those.

And before you start screaming 'ELITIST!' at me, I'm talking about effort and dedication, not grades. If you vanquish a 6b+ after a protracted siege, I'll be psyched for you. One thing I wouldn't do however, is call you 'the best climber in the world.' Why? Because it would be just as meaningless and patronising as a participation trophy. It is possible to praise somebody's effort without abandoning all semblance of reality. This is why I feel uncomfortable when Spanish people call me 'máquina' or worse, 'titan'. As an Englishman I'm always listening for the inevitable sarcasm. This is a minor cultural quibble, but I find my English friends' endless shit-talking at the crag far more motivating than any comparison to a Greek god.

The fun-fanatics also rarely know the actual context in which this line was said. On his blog (which is pure motivation by the way), Stevie Haston says:

'Sometimes climbers get all aggressive with me, and say its not just about standards, it’s about enjoyment. Then they use the quote ‘the best climber is the one having most fun’, they don’t know where the quote comes from, and they didn't know the man who spoke it. The climber was Alex Lowe, the best all-rounder in the USA at that time, died in an avalanche. He was a 5.13a climber, a mixed M8 climber, and a grade 7 ice man. He had extremely solid standards, and do you know why? He trained like a Spartan, that’s why. He did his pull ups, he did his running, he did the lot, la total. And you know that quote, it was just to make the punters feel happy about themselves.'

This quote is great, and also hits the nail on the head regarding the people who use this line. It's usually either punters, looking for an excuse not to try hard or professionals, who have already made huge achievements and can afford to casually wave away the years of training, dieting and other very un-fun activities that have gotten them to this level.

My other gripe with the funsters is the insanity of abandoning the whole spectrum of human experience and focussing on the most middle of the road, basic and unremarkable one. Heaven forbid you come across some adversity which actually makes you grow as a person. In my climbing life I've experienced intense pain, frustration and anger. The slow realisation of loss as a project slips away. The sense of impossibility that slowly converts to hope. The confidence in executing a sequence perfectly. My recent send of Flor de Loto was an example, an eleven month investment of time and energy both emotional and physical. Not to mention the years of training before. It wasn't a universally positive experience. (and that's putting it mildly) I got angry, I swore and shouted, I dropped it from the last move, I abandoned it only to come back a week later. When I finally did it, I lay on the crashpad and laughed hysterically for five minutes, I still have a big smile on my face as I write this thinking about it. It seems obvious to say it, but the process of real achievement isn't all going to be sunshine and lollipops, sometimes it sucks. This is why the quote irritates me. If I'd given up when the fun stopped, I wouldn't have learned or achieved anything. What a rubbish message. 'The best climber is the one who fights hardest.' There. It's not even difficult to think of something better, because literally anything is better than fun.

In a similar vein, 'It's only climbing, it's not important' is another one I hear thrown around, as if the subjective opinion of that particular person can be applied to every climber. No. What you actually meant is that for you, climbing isn't important. You decide your own level of involvement. I personally train three days and climb outside two days a week, not to mention the hours I spend thinking about it, watching videos on the internet and reading about it. Clearly climbing is pretty central to my life. For your Ondras of this world, who train every day, travel and make a living off climbing, it's more important still. Also, imaginary guy, if climbing isn't important to you, why do it? Why even bother if it's so pointless in your estimation? Before anyone says it: yes, it's important to have perspective and yes there are other things beside climbing, but it's the hypocrisy that really gets me. It's very modern, very hipster, very nihilistic and above all very stupid, to shrug something off as inconsequential, while simultaneously participating in said activity. But then I like Taylor Swift ironically, so I can't really judge. 

Considering the Swift comparison, it becomes all too obvious that this dismissal is often a rationalisation. The truth is, (how could it not be), that I love a bit of Taylor Swift. Her songs are catchy and really connect with my inner angsty teen. Unfortunately, we live in an intolerant world, where society looks harshly upon twenty-six year-old male Swift fans. It is therefore easier to cloak my genuine enthusiasm in ironic appreciation. 

Similarly, our example climber is either dissatisfied with his own abilities or worried about the way his peers will perceive him. It is psychologically easier to dismiss the importance of climbing entirely that to honestly confront this. How often have you heard someone admit defeat by saying something along the lines of 'ahh, it doesn't matter anyway' It seems rude at this point to say:

'it obviously does matter to you, you just chose to spend an hour in a wood trying the same move over and over again, and this is your third session!'  

We don't say it, but that doesn't make it less true. Rather than tying yourself in knots trying to show that you never really cared anyway, wouldn't it be more liberating to say: 'I cared about this objective and I'm frustrated that I didn't achieve it.' Then you would be free to pour that energy into actually taking steps to accomplish it.  

The same goes for people who say that grades aren't important. Once again, it's important to differentiate between people who express a personal preference and those who make the blanket assertion that: 'grades aren't important.' These people complain about what they see as an obsession with the numbers, and often fail entirely to understand that it is not the numbers but what they represent that matters. The numerical grade is merely a signifier, a representation of the difficulty and effort required to complete a climb. When you hear someone psyched about sending their first 7A, the default response should not be to dismiss that person for chasing grades. Why? Because they're probably not, they're chasing the achievement that the grade represents. Behind the number is a real rock, real holds and a real challenge which should be celebrated rather that belittled. It's the presumption of superiority, of being somehow above it all that is the most irritating. Imagine a footballer saying: 'scoring a goal isn't important.' 

These attitudes come both from climbing's origins as an alternative sport and from the modern 'everybody gets a prize' mentality. The one thing that unifies them is an unwillingness to commit, whether to temporary pain, or to the goal of a specific grade, or even to climbing as a whole. Now, if somebody genuinely wants to live in a climbing 'safe space' that is free of grades, challenge and universally 'fun', that is absolutely fine. But a space that is free of challenge is also free of achievement. A space that rejects anything remotely negative in favour of fun, is also rejecting the personal growth that comes with adversity. If you want to limit yourself to fun, feel free, but most climbers want something a wee bit more complicated than that.

And Taylor Swift is awesome by the way.