Risks, Consequences, and Risk Management
When I made my first trip into the Ghost range, I climbed “approach ice” without a rope for the first time. It was my first time ice climbing with no protection, so naturally it was a bit spooky. Looking back on it, thought, it wasn’t that big a deal.
The climb was a 20 foot section of 70 degree ice, no worse than WI 2. I’d climbed WI 2 terrain all season without falling. I had an ice screw and some slings to anchor myself if things started to go bad. In a worst case scenario, a 20 foot fall will break bones but probably won’t kill you; getting a rescue in the Ghost range is difficult, but it happens a few times every year. In short, I was unlikely to fall, I had a “bail out” option if I thought I might fall, and if I did fall it probably wouldn’t be lethal.
All this has me thinking a lot about risk, risk management, and how it applies to mountain sports. I want to have a long career in these sports, and to explore everything they have to offer. On the other hand (as anyone who reads this blog knows) I’m acutely aware of the risks involved. A lot of skiers, climbers, alpinists and paddlers have died in the past 3 years, and one or two of them were personal heroes.
Pushing into new areas in mountain sports increases risk, and so does the repeated exposure to hazards involved in a long career. On the other hand, if you don’t push into new and riskier areas you’ll miss out on a lot of what these sports have to offer.
So, I've gone back to risk management 101:
Risk = Probability x Consequences
Probability is the likelihood of things going bad. Things that contribute to probability include overall exposure time and how close to your personal skill limit you operate.
Consequences are what happens when things go bad (inconvenience, injury, death, etc.). These are largely determined by what you’re doing and where you’re doing it.
So, to expand the equation:
Risk = (Frequency/[Skill Limit - Required Skill]) x Consequences
You can reduce your overall risk level by managing any one of these sub factors.
For the most part, limiting frequency is a non-starter. If you want to enjoy mountain sports and improve in them you need to spend lots of time doing them. There are one or two exceptions to this, which I’ll talk about in a minute.
Then there’s (skill limit - required skill). I know I'm very unlikely to fall climbing a WI 2, or a 5.7, or skiing an intermediate pitch, so the probability of a risk event goes down. My good friend Matt, avid downhill biker that he is, can cruise through terrain I wouldn’t even attempt. Just about every “extreme” athlete uses this risk-management strategy, and for good reason: it works quite well. As I’ve often said, “rule number one is don’t fall. Provided you follow that rule, all other rules are negotiable).
On the other hand, operating below your skill limit doesn't guarantee safety. The death of John Bachar this past summer proves it. John was a famous solo climber who fell while climbing at his home crag, in good weather, and on a route far below his skill limit. If you repeatedly expose yourself to risk, even if the probability of an event is low, it will eventually catch up to you. It took 30 years to catch John, but catch him it did! So, you limit the consequences of the eventual, perhaps inevitable mistake.
So, you also need to manage consequences.
There are a couple of ways to do this. One is controlling your environment. Consider climbing on a top rope in a well-managed gym. You can fall all day with absolutely no consequences (well, maybe a pissed off belayer). Then there are bolt protected sport climbs, which are still pretty safe. Then well protected trad climbs, then trad climbs with sketchy pro, then alpine climbing, and so on until you have a solo alpine climber who has to deal with falling rock, falling ice, avalanches, storms, and can’t afford to mess up even once.
The other way to control consequence is with recovery" or "mitigation" skills: skills that let you bounce back from an error. Learn to roll your kayak and flipping isn't such a big deal. Learn to place good protection and falling on a trad climb isn't as bad.
So, as the chance of failure goes up, reduce the consequences by choosing your environment and learning the right mitigation skills. As you get closer and closer to your limit, choose the safer environment. And, almost without exception, make sure the consequence of a mistake are non-lethal, and don’t involve permanent injury. Like I said, even when you do everything right, odds are you’ll eventually make a mistake. Make sure it won’t be your last.
Thinking about ice climbing was what really crystallized this for me. On any ice climb, at least on lead, falling is not an acceptable outcome. Crampons tend to catch on ice, and the results of falling with crampons include broken ankles, legs, and sometimes getting flipped upside-down and smacking your head. So, you plan everything in your climb such that you'll avoid falling. Even so, most long term ice climbers take a fall or two during their careers. The commonly used safety system (screws, rope, helmet) does a pretty good job of limiting consequence: you'll probably get hurt, maybe seriously, but you probably won't die, and odds are the injury will be one you can recover from. Your inevitable mistake won't be your last.
Now, remember that exception to the “control frequency” rule I mentioned earlier? Well, there are people who step outside this box. Solo climbers, extreme skiers, and kayakers who run class VI rapids spring to mind. These people go into environments where the consequence of failure is HUGE, where there is little to no room for error.
And… I'm starting to think even this can be an acceptable risk if, BIG IF...you manage probability correctly. That means controlling through both skill and exposure.
Imagine a solo climber who is very skilled, who knows the route well, waits for good weather, carries bail-out equipment so he can back off if things start to go wrong, and asks himself at every step "how do I feel? Am I on my game? Do I have any doubts about this next move?" If he gets the wrong answer, he backs off right away. This climber has drastically reduced the probability side of the equation using skill. The vast majority of people who solo climb like this finish safely and come away with an experience they'll remember for the rest of their lives.
Then there’s controlling exposure. People who follow the above prescription for soloing, and who only solo once or twice, usually go on to have long and happy lives. On the other hand, the vast majority of long term soloists eventually fall and die. Lethal consequences are just too nasty to mess with on a regular basis. Sooner or later, they get you.
I've looked at a lot of the accidents and deaths over the past 3 years and, by and large, there's a clear pattern: people who repeatedly exposed themselves to risk in a high consequence situation. Stunt skiers who die on their 50th big jump. Solo climbers who have been at it for 30 years. Alpinists who climb in areas with lousy protection, or with objective hazards. If you adjusted the risk equation even a little the accident would become unpleasant but not fatal or permanently injurious. The key is not crossing that red line, AND in accepting that a non-fatal, non-permanent injury is possible, maybe even likely. This seems to be the key to a long and productive career in the mountains.
All this is easy to say, but the specifics are tougher to implement. All these things will be in my mind at every step this season as I spend more time leading, and start to explore multi-pitch and trad climbs.