Financial Journalism

In an age where you need to fill your quota of column inches, uneventful Fridays can be a nightmare. 

Kappa Due

Last week saw one of the worst accidents in mountaineering history, with almost 11 climbers giving in to nature's fury, on their way back from summit attempt of K2. Mountaineering is a dangerous game, and I am sure every one of them was full aware that there was a good chance they wouldn't return. I guess it is precisely this love affair with danger that took them there is in the first place (it is the sort of thing that makes me want to race speedboats). In mountaineering circles, K2 is the holy grail, it may not be the tallest, but is by far the toughest of the 14 that are above that 8000m mark. 

It is not surprising then that accidents like this will happen, seracs will fall and ropes will be cut. It incident however provides us a rare glimpse into human psyche and behavior under stress. One of the survivors Wilco Van Rooijen describes the harrowing incident. How the people who found themselves stranded at the summit, started thinking of solely their own survival. To put it in his words "They were thinking of using My Gas and My rope. Everybody was fighting for himself and I still do not understand why everybody was leaving each other". Well, that is what happens when things go bad. There are no friends or team mates. Its every man for himself.

Its something I have seen closer home even in less extreme situations. I have to now stand guarding borders against other traders in the same firm poaching on my business. A business they would have gladly sent to me in better times. And on a larger scale, we've seen how wall street turned on some of its own (Bear Stearns, wouldn't have gone down otherwise) when the going got tough. I digress.

New York times lamented other day about how we have lost the camaraderie in mountaineering.  They recounted an incident almost 60 years ago from the golden age of Himalayan expeditions, which in involved a couple of fellow Columbia Alumni. It was the expedition to K2 led by Dr. Charles Houston. On their way back one of the members Art Gilkey contracted thrombophlebitis, and had to be carried by the other members, however the other members didn't for once think of leaving him behind. Gilkey eventually did succumb to the Savage Mountain, possibly saving his teammates, but the event has gone down the history as "Homeric retreat" of Dr. Houston's party. 

Interestingly enough, few years later, when the Italian team led by Achille Compagnoni, finally did conquer the peak, that summit is a legacy of backstabbing and betrayal. I guess then contrary to what the Times will have times haven't really changed.  Or maybe its just something in kappa Due that brings out the best and the worst in men.