Companies (Page 390)

Just before reaching the summit of Mount Everest, Australian engineer Jason Kennison told his mum in a FaceTime call that he would see her when he got back.

He was fulfilling a lifelong dream to stand on top of the world and raise funds for his favoured charity, Spinal Cord Injuries Australia.

But that static-filled video call was the last time Gill Kennison would see her son alive. As the 40-year-old descended from the summit, he caught high-altitude sickness and died.

Mr Kennison is among 12 confirmed fatalities from the spring climbing season, one of the deadliest in recent years. It has just concluded but five mountaineers remain missing. The deaths already exceed the 11 lives lost in 2019, when overcrowding on the picturesque yet treacherous terrain was highlighted by a viral photo of one long queue to the summit.

This year’s victims succumbed to the perennial risks of climbing Everest – three Sherpas died in a serac or ice fall, and the others fell ill like Mr Kennison.

But the high number has renewed scrutiny on overcrowding after a record number of climbing permits were issued in Nepal, and deepened concerns about the impacts of climate change on the mountain.

Locals in Nepal – the most popular jump-off point for climbers – attributed the unprecedented 900 permits to pent-up travel demand from the pandemic.

Having so many people puts pressure on “traffic jams” on the climbing route, Garrett Madison of US-based Madison Mountaineering company told Reuters news agency.

Lines form when mountaineers need to catch a window of favourable weather to reach the summit. They need to avoid jet streams or narrow bands of strong wind in the upper atmosphere. Queues can also be held up by inexperienced and unprepared climbers.

Extremely thin air on peaks higher than 8,000m (26,000 ft) makes it difficult to breathe and climbers often use oxygen canisters to survive, but logjams put pressure on supplies.

High altitudes can cause the body to produce excess fluid and cause swelling in the lungs and brain. This can lead to fatigue, breathlessness, and loss of co-ordination.

Adrian Ballinger of US-based Alpenglow Expeditions, which leads climbers from the China side, said some companies from the Nepal side have been taking climbers to Everest even if they do not have enough experience to navigate the death zone.

Everest expeditions are a major source of income for Nepal, whose government is often criticised by some Western climbers for allowing anyone who can pay the $11,000 (£8,800) fee for a permit to go up. The government denies this.

On top of the permit, each climber spends at least $26,700 on an expedition in Nepal, including on permit fees, gas, food, guides and local travel, according to sherpas.

Yubaraj Khatiwada, director at Nepal’s Department of Tourism, rebuffed criticism of the number of permits awarded. Speaking last month, he said a team of doctors and government officials would be stationed at the Everest base camp for the first time to manage climbing activities throughout the season.

“We are concerned for their safety and are well prepared to cope with the crowd, by spreading summit bids as long as the good weather window provides to ensure the climbing goes smoothly as far as possible,” Mr Khatiwada told AFP.

Lukas Furtenbach, whose Austria-based tour company has brought 100 people to the summit since 2016, stressed the need for readily available oxygen, given the threat of overcrowding. He said his company has measures in place to make sure that their clients never run out of oxygen and that they have recorded zero accidents.

“Proper oxygen logistics are super important if there are many people climbing at the same time. I am convinced that with minimum safety, equipment and logistic standards for all operators, we could avoid many of the deaths that happen today on Everest,” he told the BBC.

While this year has seen no deaths due to avalanches, these events have accounted for roughly 40% of fatalities in recent years, according to The Himalayan Database.

An avalanche in 2014 killed 16 people, in what is considered the worst accident on the mountain in modern history.

Climbers have also had to contend with warmer temperatures, that have melted glaciers and caused lakes to form. Scientists noted that due to climate change, temperatures on the Tibetan Plateau, where Everest is located, have increased by around 2C over 40 years from 1979.

And when the snow melts, glacier ice loses its cover from the sun, causing it to either turn into water that goes down the slopes or vaporise into the air due to strong winds, according to research published in 2022 by the University of Maine’s Climate Change Institute.

Climate effects will “change the experience” of Everest climbs as more bedrock is exposed in place of snow and ice, and icefalls and avalanches become more “dynamic”, the study said. Melting glaciers could also “destabilise” base camp that houses about 1,000 climbers and logistics team during the peak season.

But plans to move the camp have been recently shelved. Last month, Sherpa leaders told the BBC that proposals to shift it were impractical.

The changing terrain has been jarring for guides who have traversed the area for years.

“They’re saying that every time they go back, the mountain looks different. So where there used to be ice last year, there’s water, where there used to be hard snow, now it’s soft snow,” veteran guide Pasang Yanjee Sherpa said in a podcast after the 2022 spring season.

This year saw unusual snowfall that normally occurs during the winter months, Ang Tshering Sherpa, former president of the Nepal Mountaineering Association, told AFP. This heightened the risk of an avalanche since fresh snow is soft, he said.

For Mr Furtenbach, climate change impacts seem “remarkable and never seen before”.

“I assume that for the next five to 10 years, we will slowly start to see if and how the climbing route on Everest will be affected by global warming,” he told the BBC.

The season has also seen dramatic rescues and milestones. Last month, Nepali guide Gelje Sherpa carried a Malaysian climber down from 8,500m above sea level over the course of six hours.

Separately, Kami Rita Sherpa from Nepal reached the summit for a record 28th time, solidifying his reputation as the world’s “Everest Man”.

And earlier, Hari Budha Magar, a former Gurkha soldier who lives in Britain, summited Everest with prosthetic legs. He is the world’s first double above-the-knee amputee to achieve this feat.

Misfortune and triumph just days apart shows the need for rigorous preparation to conquer Everest and survive in the most hostile conditions, experts say.

“Tragedy, deaths and drama play a vital role why people are drawn by Everest. It is the highest point of this planet, but also one of the most dangerous places on earth. This combination attracts people,” Mr Furtenbach says.

It looks like chicken, it smells like chicken and, what do you know, it tastes like chicken.

You would never guess that the piece of meat in front of me did not come from a farm. It was made in a laboratory on an industrial estate just a few miles down the road.

I’m in Huber’s Butchery and Bistro in Singapore, which is the only restaurant in world to have so-called cultivated meat on the menu.

Feedback from customers has been “phenomenal”, according to the restaurant’s owner.

The meat’s creator – California-based Eat Just – says it is ethical, clean and green – with no compromise on taste. Billions of dollars are being poured into the industry, but huge question marks hang over its viability as anything beyond a novelty.

Ever since the first lab-grown burger – which cost a mere $330,000 (£263,400) to create – was unveiled in London in 2013, dozens of companies around the world have joined the race to bring affordable cultivated meat to the market.

So far, only Eat Just has managed to get its product approved for public sale after regulators in Singapore – the only country in the world to allow lab-grown meat to be sold- gave its chicken the green light in December 2020.

But things appear to have stalled since then. Cultivated chicken nuggets were briefly on the menu at a private members’ club in 2021.

That partnership was discontinued after a few months and this year Huber’s has started offering a chicken sandwich and a chicken pasta dish to the general public – albeit only once a week with limited dining slots available.

“Cultivated meat is real meat, but you don’t have to slaughter an animal,” says Josh Tetrick, chief executive of Eat Just, who spoke to the BBC from San Francisco. “This way of eating makes sense for the future,” he says.

Unlike plant-based substitutes, cultivated meat is literally meat. The process involves extracting cells from an animal, which are then fed with nutrients such as proteins, sugars and fats.

The cells are allowed to divide and grow, before being placed in a large steel bioreactor, which acts like a fermentation tank.

After four to six weeks, the material is ‘harvested’ from the bioreactor. Some vegetable protein is added, then it is moulded, cooked and 3-D printed to give it the necessary shape and texture.

The resulting strips of deep fried chicken on my plate of orecchiette pasta certainly tasted like the real deal, if a bit processed. Perhaps the sort of chicken you would eat in a fast-food restaurant.

“It’s meat – it’s perfect!” says Caterina, an Italian student who came here especially to try the cultivated chicken. Normally, for sustainability reasons, she would not eat meat but Caterina says she would eat this.

Her only quibble? Serving the chicken with pasta, which typically does not happen in Italy.

Another diner from Singapore says he was surprised by how much it resembled real meat.

“It’s legit”, he says. “I wouldn’t know where it came from. My only concern would be the cost.”

The chicken pasta dish I ordered was S$18.50 ($13.70; £11), but that is vastly discounted relative to the current cost of producing the meat.

Eat Just will not say exactly how much it spends on making its cultivated chicken, but at the moment the company’s production capacity only yields 2kg (4.4lb) or 3kg per week in Singapore.

When you compare that to the 4,000kg – 5,000kg of conventional chicken sold weekly – at Huber’s alone – it gives you a sense of the scale of the task ahead. Put simply, they will need to increase production enormously to avoid making a loss on each piece of chicken.

Eat Just says it has already achieved a 90% reduction in costs since 2018 and the company offered me a tour of its new multi-million dollar production facility in Singapore, which it hopes will open next year.

The pair of shiny steel 1,320 gallon (6,000 litres) bioreactors certainly represent a sign of intent, but in reality they are a tiny fraction of the millions of tonnes of chicken that would need to be produced to match the price of slaughtered chicken.

The industry is urging for patience, but many scientists have already seen enough.

“The narrative presented by these companies is very strong”, says Ricardo San Martin, co-director of the Alt: Meat Lab at the University of California, Berkeley.

“But that narrative must be contrasted with the science”, he says. “Run the numbers, look at every scientific paper written by people who have no skin in the game, and you’ll see the answer is clear.”

“Can you do this, at scale, at a reasonable cost? No. Can you talk about saving the world with this? Again, no. These companies have to be honest – it’s wishful thinking”, he says.

Not only are there doubts about scaling up production, there is also uncertainty over the industry’s green credentials, which have been questioned by scientists.

In theory, reducing the world’s reliance on land and livestock for meat production should reduce carbon emissions, but at the moment the advanced technology needed to create cultivated meat is so energy intensive that it cancels out any benefits.

One study by the University of California, Davis even estimated that the process produces between 4 and 25 times as much carbon dioxide as regular beef. However, East Just has called the study “flawed”.

When asked by the BBC whether the whole project might end in failure, Josh Tetrick from Eat Just replied: “For sure”.

But he remains undeterred: “Making meat in this way is both necessary and highly uncertain,” he says.

“It’s not straightforward. It’s complicated. It’s not guaranteed and it might not work out. But the other option for us is not to do anything. So we decided to take a bet and go for it.”

Plenty of investors have decided to make that same bet. As of this year, an estimated $2.8bn has been spent on developing cultivated meat.

However, if cultivated meat is to become anything more than a niche alternative for the well-off in the developed world, then relying on investments from private businesses may not be enough.

Governments, Mr Tetrick says, are going to need to put “significant public money” into cultivated meat for it to rival conventionally slaughtered meat.

“This is like the transition to renewable energy… It’s a lifetime project – maybe a multiple lifetimes project,” he says.

At the moment though no country outside Singapore has authorised the sale of cultivated meat, let alone committed to serious investment.

According to Ricardo San Martin from UC Berkeley, both private and public funding for cultivated meat companies will dry up if they do not “look in the mirror” soon and present realistic forecasts to investors.

“Unless there is a clear path to success at some point in the future, investors and governments will not want to spend money on something that is not scientifically proven”.