 |
| Storm chasing tourists near Bennington, Kansas in 2013. |
Maybe, he suggests, all those people running around the Great Plains in specialized vehicles, converging by the hundreds of dramatic supercells and tornadoes, are doing more harm than good.
Holthaus raises some good points.
One of his main concerns is that storm chasers are not saving lives by providing warnings. National Weather Service radar has gotten so good you almost don't need spotters verifying whether a tornado has touched down.
Instead, there is now the opposite risk. So many chasers converge on one storm that it crowds small, rural roads with photographers. That makes it hard for emergency vehicles to pass, said Holthaus.
In my opinion, it could trap the chasers, too, if the tornado turns on them and a traffic jam prevents chasers from getting out of the way.
Holthaus is also queasy about chasing for profit, by selling photos, video and tour seats, gives more incentive to take risks near tornadoes to document the most drama and thereby make the most money. He also is understandably sickened by viral videos in which you see and hear chasers just totally getting off on a tornado, and meanwhile, somebody might be dying in a house being hit by the twister.
The idea of chaser ethics got renewed attention from Holthaus and others this past week when one chase, having taken videos of a giant double tornado destroying much of the town of Pilger, Nebraska.
Moments after the town was devastated, he snapped a photo of a dying five year old girl who had just been pulled from the rubble. The photo went viral.
It sparked a debate: Was in exploitive, or did it show the reality of how a tornado can totally destroy lives and create unspeakable tragedies?
As Gawker's Dennis Mersereau wrote, the same photographer wrote weeks earlier that he wanted to see "some highly destructive tornadoes to make it rain for me financially."
The Pilger photographer made money off the tornado, and the death of the little girl. But he is also contributing money for the girl's funeral expenses. What do you make of all this?
As you might expect, Holthaus' article got a lot of response from storm chasers and others. To Halthaus' credit, he linked to his critics on his Twitter feed.
Writing in his blog, Ben Cotten (@FunnelFiasco) said maybe Holthaus paints too broad a brush with his comments.
"The issue here is that in the age of social media, it's easier for the bad eggs to stand out. It's easy to find chasers behaving stupidly, sometimes they even get their own cable shows. The well-behaved chasers, by their very nature tend not to be noticed," Cotton wrote.
James Samenow of The Capital Weather Gang also chimed in, correctly noting that chasers are often the first on the scene of a tornado disaster and often rescue people.
 |
| Storm chasers took this photo after twin tornadoes trashed the town of Pilger, Nebraska. Then chasers then participated in search and rescue. |
He noted how chaser Chad Cowan and other chasers rescued people trapped in wrecked houses after a tornado ripped through Wessington Springs, South Dakota last week.
However, in Cowan's account of the rescue, many other chasers in the area did not join in the rescue. However, chases Brandon Ivey and Marcus Gutierrez did help.
Many professions have a code of conduct. There might be an informal one in storm chasing. I wonder if we can create a climate where a code of conduct is enforceable, and clear cut, in the storm chasing business.
In other words, can a code of conduct drub bad actors out of the chasing gig, while encouraging the ethical, helpful ones?
I don't think there's anything inherently wrong with chasing tornados, running chasing tours and selling images and videos for fun and profit.
But some sort of formal code among chasers might help. The code could dictate that chasers drop everything and help endangered or injuried people they encounter. Many chasers already do this, (that's why tornado chase videos often abruptly cut out when a newly destroyed house comes into view. The chasers are trying to help the people inside.)
However, some chasers don't help others.
Sometimes chasers get in the way of emergency responders, or put themselves in too much danger trying to get that dramatic shot. I wonder if they could be fined severely, to make it financially hurt.
Ther have been proposals to fine hikers and skiers who act recklessly in the winter wilderness of New England
What about storm chasers who get in trouble?
Then we have to talk about storm chase consumers, like me. Anyone who reads this blog knows I'm an avid fan of storm chasing videos and images.
Nature is fascinating, whether she's on a rampage or not. However, am I, and others, contributing to the problem by lapping up these storm videos? If so, how do we know if the storm chaser who took the video is ethical or not?
Even if we know whether the chaser was ethical, do we stop looking at their videos and images? How do you sift through all that?
The overall reaction to Holthaus' piece in Slate is that he makes some very good points, but he paints too broad a brush. And that maybe the situation with ethical chasers is more nuanced and complicated than Holthaus indicates.
I agree with that overall assessment. However, credit Holthaus for pushing a needed conversation. Lord knows more conversation is needed with this situation.
I don't have good solutions here, but maybe if we keep a critical eye on chasers, as Holthaus and others do, some solutions will emerge.
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
ReplyDelete