> My father was a serious alpinist in his youth, and taught us a few things about mountains when we were kids. For instance: you always say hello to people you pass on the mountain.
> Why? Because the mountain can kill you. “Hi” means “You are a human like me, and this mountain is our common threat. If you scream for help, I will come for you.”
> There’s a certain solidarity between humans that emerges when we’re faced with a potentially hostile natural world. If we passed on the street, we’d be strangers. There’d be no bond between us. We might even engage in conflict, under the right circumstances. But on the mountain, all of that falls away. By default, in the wilderness, a human face is a friendly face, a glad thing to see if you are lost or hurt.
> If you are in the desert and you see someone obviously suffering from dehydration, you’ll share your extra water with them. It won’t feel like some kind of altruism or charity, it will feel obvious. It’s instructive, if you’re used to thinking of giving as an unpleasant duty, to experience some situations where it’s natural to be kind. Kindness becomes practical and natural and obvious when the physical environment is hostile. Suddenly everything becomes simple: it’s human life against bitter nature, and nothing else matters. “All men are brothers” becomes a concrete reality.
