Smiths vs. Teddys

Putting a name to the festering culture rot of of pseudo-intellectual, anti-human “outdoorsmen,” that want you in inside, unhappy, and eventually extinct

I’m on a tear today, and I’m taking you with me. Buckle up, because I’m sure this will piss a bunch of people off.

The stiff mountain breeze whips over the steep western slope of Quandary Peak. I sit beside a pile of abandoned cardboard signs bearing the mountain’s name and elevation, shivering in my down jacket against biting autumn cold.

The hiker across from me stares stoically toward Mount Silverheels with no boots, no pack, and a crisp black suit.

We are alone.

“What did you think of the trip?” I ask, determined to make polite conversation.

He turns his stern gaze toward me. “I’d like to share a revelation that I’ve had during my time here.”

“Shoot,” I say.

“It came when I was trying to classify your hobby. I realized you’re not actually hikers.”

I raise an eyebrow, but let him continue.

“Every hiker on this planet instinctively develops a natural equilibrium with the surrounding environment but you peak baggers do not.” He leans back on his rocky perch. “You share summit selfies attracting more peak baggers and you multiply, and you multiply, until every natural resource is consumed. The only way your interest can continue is to spread to another area.” He waves his hand in the general direction of the nearby 13er.

“There is another organism on this planet that follows the same pattern. Do you know what it is?”

I shake my head.

He leans in, close enough that I can count the wrinkles on his forehead. “A virus. Peak baggers are a disease. A cancer of this planet. You are a plague.”

In 1999 the Wachowskis gave us one of my favorite villains put to film: the Martix’s Agent Smith — whose raw hatred of humanity is rivaled only by an obnoxious subculture of the outdoor community. Let’s call them the Smiths.

Smiths express the self-hating view that humanity is a loathsome scourge upon the planet. They prefer — it would seem — our extinction, but will settle for our complete confinement indoors.

They advocate for policies making recreation more difficult, and cheer when fewer people are able to enjoy nature.

I’m not talking about conservationists either, nor those who advocate for good outdoor etiquette, cleaning up after ourselves and picking up trash. Smiths believe we are the trash.

When Smiths manage to slither their way into positions of actual prominence, you can catch them jet-setting around the globe in private planes and on super yachts, winging — between bites of foie gras — that your hamburger produces too much carbon.

But of course, the garden variety Smith is most commonly found behind a keyboard.

Whenever I share piece about on hikers losing access to nature, the Smiths rush to defecate their anti-human screed in the social media comment section.

In this recent piece, I reported on shocking data from the Colorado Fourteeners Initiative: reservations cut visitor numbers in half at the state’s most popular mountain.

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The Smiths salivated at the idea fewer people could go outside. Here’s the brilliant insight they had to share on the subject:

“Good.”

“Thank God”

“Keep johnny and the college kids that planned their ascent at 3am the night before from using SAR when they run out of water a third of the way up.”

“Too many dumb southerners up here.”

“I never go into the wild. It pleases me to read this.”

“Raw numbers do equal damage.¹ Fossil fuels burned to transport police, provide medical, and of course search and rescue. Not to mention the cleaning up the refuse replenishing of supplies, etc…

People f***ing suck. Keep nature safe."

“Less hikers is better.”

You first then. Hang up your boots, you sanctimonious, half-literate, mouth breathers; never tread on grass again. Lead by example.

Phew. Glad we got that part out of the way.

We should not wither away in tiny homes, cowering in the belief that existence itself is profane.

Luckily, I don’t think this sentiment is actually representative of the outdoor community as a whole. Most of us are capable of nuance. Most of us can recognize the hypocrisy of having these amazing experiences ourselves, before pulling up the access ladder behind us.

This brings us along to the other prominent group, who I’ll call the Teddys (as in Roosevelt.) Rather than emulate the behavior of a soulless computer program that sees human life as a foul-smelling stain, this group follows the example of the man often known as “the conservation president.”

Roosevelt’s legacy is the perseveration of many natural treasures. His enormous expansion of parks and monuments was done to ensure we could all share in their wonder, not to lock them away forever. It’s not hard to look at the man’s life and see he was a guy who loved the outdoors, and wanted other people to be able to experience that love as well.

The Teddys understand that inspiration and respect are important parts of environmental protection; that a person who loves to be immersed in the wilderness will do more to save it than someone who has never seen a tree.

They also know that a friendly induction into the community does far more for the promotion of “leave no trace” ideals than gatekeeping ever will.

When Ideological lines are drawn in the Outdoor Space, We Should Side with the Teddys, not the Smiths

Our goal should be to conserve the Earth so that our children and grandchildren can stand where we stood, see what we saw, and enjoy the experiences we ourselves treasure. We should not wither away in tiny homes, cowering in the belief that our existence itself is profane.

Do not cede the future to anti-human nihilism. Embrace nature, and spread your love and reverence for it whenever possible.

If you know a few Smiths, share this post with them the next time they start yapping about humanity being a virus.

1. This one pisses me off to no end because I spent a year of my life working on a documentary that disproves the point