Kenilworth
New member
Many thanks to Newstuff for suggesting a topic upon which I could happily unleash my pencil and few workable brain cells during car rides over the past couple of days.
It has not been easy for me to begin a line of thought that deals with the propriety of commercial caving. Besides all the normal concerns for care of the cave is the added and important consideration of someone?s material livelihood. I can only reason on whether I might permit myself to earn such a living, and to do that it is helpful to reflect on my attitude toward my own secular work.
For the last dozen or so years I have made my money as a self-employed flooring installer. My work is categorized as a skilled trade, and I am supposedly a craftsman. In reality, I am mostly a deliverer of material goods. In installing the carpets and tiles and wood, I try to act as a craftsman, to work carefully skillfully and honestly, with respect for my tools and materials and customers, but the poor quality of my materials and the poor attitude of some of my customers, as well as the painful physicality of the work often leave me feeling nearer a slave of the commercial system and an animal of labor. In many times of discouragement I have felt that this work of installing expensive disposable products for unappreciative and demanding and ignorant strangers is almost entirely without honor.
This is not true, of course ? there is some redemption in this work. Most obviously, I am able to make what is considered a ?lower-middle-class? income that cares for my material needs and those of my wife. I have no debt, and am answerable to no one for my schedule. So I am free to spend much time away from my job, and can do work and play that are truly rewarding and important to me. My job allows me constant small opportunities to practice principles that I believe are important in every part of life. It is fulfilling, for example, to prepare and work carefully and in ways that reduce material waste, thus saving myself time and my customer money. It is good to work hard for people who understand and value hard work. And while interactions with customers are sometimes frustrating or even infuriating, it is always interesting and often enriching to meet and talk to and listen to people, and to see how they manage their homes and places.
So the way I make money is not perfect, or even ideal, but it adequately serves an important personal purpose and allows me a clean conscience. Using the same family of thought with which I have grappled with my job, what might I conclude about commercial caving?
Firstly, though I have no personal knowledge of the profits involved, it seems credible that a person might make an honest living as a professional cave guide. To do might seem, on the surface, very attractive to a person who enjoys spending time in caves. Besides the opportunity to make money at something one enjoys, there is also the opportunity to act as a sort of first defense against bad practice by educating new cave enthusiasts.
What though might be some negative aspects of commercial caving? From a conservation standpoint, the most obvious objection was unwittingly illuminated by Newstuff, who wrote,
?Now, before you start running [commercial trips] down, this is how a number of explorers got into caving, and it's never going to stop. I cannot picture them in anywhere that is not suitable for high-volume traffic, or that has anything more than a token "obstacle" to negotiate.?
Mr. Stuff?s observational impotence aside, making oneself financially motivated to introduce new explorers into places already suffering from overuse is morally suspect. It does not matter if the scene of the commercial trip is suitable for heavy use if the commercial trip inspires future haphazard adventures into caves that are not. And no matter the educational efforts of a guide, it is not possible to teach proper care of a delicate cave by leading customers on a tour of a trampled and featureless tube.
Another negative could be the effect of this sort of work on the professional caver himself. I can only say for certain what effect it would have on me, but it seems pretty consistent to say that commerce diminishes everything it touches. Just as I have found writing for money a bitter chore, I would soon find caving for money a bore and a blasphemy. Most of all, I could not trust my ability to instill a lasting and motivating affection in each of my customers, and so would have to deal with considerable guilt.
So while there is arguably room for commercial caving in certain settings, and while surely there are respectful and caring professional cavers, I can see no way that my conscience would allow me to make a living in such a way. And I cannot see any way for a professional caver to prevent more damage than he causes.
It has not been easy for me to begin a line of thought that deals with the propriety of commercial caving. Besides all the normal concerns for care of the cave is the added and important consideration of someone?s material livelihood. I can only reason on whether I might permit myself to earn such a living, and to do that it is helpful to reflect on my attitude toward my own secular work.
For the last dozen or so years I have made my money as a self-employed flooring installer. My work is categorized as a skilled trade, and I am supposedly a craftsman. In reality, I am mostly a deliverer of material goods. In installing the carpets and tiles and wood, I try to act as a craftsman, to work carefully skillfully and honestly, with respect for my tools and materials and customers, but the poor quality of my materials and the poor attitude of some of my customers, as well as the painful physicality of the work often leave me feeling nearer a slave of the commercial system and an animal of labor. In many times of discouragement I have felt that this work of installing expensive disposable products for unappreciative and demanding and ignorant strangers is almost entirely without honor.
This is not true, of course ? there is some redemption in this work. Most obviously, I am able to make what is considered a ?lower-middle-class? income that cares for my material needs and those of my wife. I have no debt, and am answerable to no one for my schedule. So I am free to spend much time away from my job, and can do work and play that are truly rewarding and important to me. My job allows me constant small opportunities to practice principles that I believe are important in every part of life. It is fulfilling, for example, to prepare and work carefully and in ways that reduce material waste, thus saving myself time and my customer money. It is good to work hard for people who understand and value hard work. And while interactions with customers are sometimes frustrating or even infuriating, it is always interesting and often enriching to meet and talk to and listen to people, and to see how they manage their homes and places.
So the way I make money is not perfect, or even ideal, but it adequately serves an important personal purpose and allows me a clean conscience. Using the same family of thought with which I have grappled with my job, what might I conclude about commercial caving?
Firstly, though I have no personal knowledge of the profits involved, it seems credible that a person might make an honest living as a professional cave guide. To do might seem, on the surface, very attractive to a person who enjoys spending time in caves. Besides the opportunity to make money at something one enjoys, there is also the opportunity to act as a sort of first defense against bad practice by educating new cave enthusiasts.
What though might be some negative aspects of commercial caving? From a conservation standpoint, the most obvious objection was unwittingly illuminated by Newstuff, who wrote,
?Now, before you start running [commercial trips] down, this is how a number of explorers got into caving, and it's never going to stop. I cannot picture them in anywhere that is not suitable for high-volume traffic, or that has anything more than a token "obstacle" to negotiate.?
Mr. Stuff?s observational impotence aside, making oneself financially motivated to introduce new explorers into places already suffering from overuse is morally suspect. It does not matter if the scene of the commercial trip is suitable for heavy use if the commercial trip inspires future haphazard adventures into caves that are not. And no matter the educational efforts of a guide, it is not possible to teach proper care of a delicate cave by leading customers on a tour of a trampled and featureless tube.
Another negative could be the effect of this sort of work on the professional caver himself. I can only say for certain what effect it would have on me, but it seems pretty consistent to say that commerce diminishes everything it touches. Just as I have found writing for money a bitter chore, I would soon find caving for money a bore and a blasphemy. Most of all, I could not trust my ability to instill a lasting and motivating affection in each of my customers, and so would have to deal with considerable guilt.
So while there is arguably room for commercial caving in certain settings, and while surely there are respectful and caring professional cavers, I can see no way that my conscience would allow me to make a living in such a way. And I cannot see any way for a professional caver to prevent more damage than he causes.