What’s in a Name? The Power of the Forum

By Ian Walters

 

            I started reading climbing forums last year. I deep-sixed two tendons digging a out a tree stump for my parents, and quickly started scheming ways to get my fix. I found my first forum, and thought something like, Here is a place I can still be a climber, even when I can’t climb.

 

            But I didn’t find my community in the forums. What I found instead was a hornet’s nest of angry arguments: climber pitted bitterly against climber, over any number of issues. I watched, horrified, as they violated the basic human dignity of their compatriots again, and again, and again. I also met some jerk-off named ‘Anonymous’. Who is this guy, I asked myself, and whose crag does he climb at? One thing was clear to me: the forums were totally out of control. How have we let this happen? I thought, and what’s the solution?

 

 

            As climbing winds itself tighter and tighter around internet media, the power of the forum remains largely unexplored. As far as I can figure, forums matter right now for three reasons. First, they enable wounded, bored, or otherwise unoccupied climbers to speak out when they want to. Second, they seem to work well as a type of ‘news channel’, keeping family and friends updated over long distances. Third, they have become an online hotspot, where the actions of high-profile climbers are critiqued, celebrated, and condemned.

 

            But could the forum affect these climbers in any real way? Let me speculate here that it just might. Sponsored climbers gain their sponsorship not only through their mutant finger strength, but also because they can represent their sponsor to the community. They are the public face of that sponsor. And what if, somehow, that sponsor had direct access to the community’s opinion of their athlete (some type of discussion...a forum, maybe) or a debate surrounding their athlete’s ability to be a positive public figure. Wouldn’t the sponsor find it in his best interest to listen? Maybe, maybe not. But why would it matter anyway? After all, it’s not like there’s actually enough money in climbing to make opinions matter. This is climbing we’re talking about, right? Right?

 

            To be honest, I’m not so sure anymore. If you haven’t heard, Black Diamond Equipment just went public. That’s right—the little-engine-that-could-have-stayed-Chouinard-Equipment just debuted on the New York Stock Exchange—Peter Metcalf rang the bell to close the floor on Wall Street a few weeks back. On the surface, this is going to mean better, cheaper gear for you and me, more money for BD employees, and more security for BD’s sponsored athletes. I think it’s a really fantastic achievement. Congratulations, BD.

 

            But I also can’t ignore the little dirtbag in my head, squeaking, “Duuude...shareholders in climbing companies? Really?” It looks like the money for Black Diamond’s sponsored athletes is going to start coming from people who don’t climb. Feeling suspicious yet? Coincidentally, my little dirtbag raises his little eyebrow when 8a boasts astronomical new membership; he raises it when my non-climber friends tell me they really like the Dosage series. And when the Olympic Committee actually approved climbing for official consideration? Eyebrow. I’m worried that when we think of the atmosphere around climbing, we might actually be imagining it as it was twenty years ago.

 

            Don’t get me wrong, I’m psyched that climbing’s getting bigger. Our athletes deserve way more money for the inspiring things they do, plain and simple. In some sense, this type of progression is old news. Like any other sport, climbing’s athletes and issues will captivate the young, and begin to bore the middle-aged. What makes climbing special will still only be found on a rock, around a fire, or with other climbers, and misplaced ideas like ‘the soul’ or ‘the heart’ of climbing are still only worth talking about when one is too drunk to remember. Who wants to confine ‘the soul’ of anything in words? I don’t.

 

            However the climbing atmosphere seems like it’s changing, I know my community. I’m not saying climbers are better than other people. But I am saying our community has a hefty amount of big-hearted, wonderful people, who inspire me to treat my fellow climbers with the respect they deserve. We can’t control how climbing mutates, but I am convinced we can make an effort to control how we talk to each other.

 

            Ever wonder why sensationalism lives online, and not at the crag? The power of a name in a forum should not be underestimated. Why do you think we get attached to characters in novels, fundamentally? They have names. A name puts worth where there was none—and in a forum, some name, any name, means more than ‘Anonymous’. When one sees a name on a screen, it’s much easier to remember that one speaks to a human—a climber. Personally, if something is important enough, I want you to know it’s me saying it. Because I trust you with my opinion. You’re a climber, too.

 

            So I’d love to open up this discussion in order to weigh the benefits and drawbacks of eliminating anonymous posting from climbing forums. Is it the way around all this? I don’t know—it’s just an idea. For those who would rather “stop talking and just go climbing,” I would agree, but respectfully offer that the internet is just too big a part of life today to responsibly ignore.

 

            If we can’t talk about this stuff at the crag, I want to do everything that I can to make sure it’s us—climbers—talking to one another, and not the forum talking for us.