Number Culture

We live in a world of data. Numbers keep us informed about our age, weight, body mass index, blood pressure, time of appointments and so on. On a global level, numbers keep us informed about distances, speeds, temperatures, infections, fatalities, population trends, wildlife numbers, the scale of the universe, the size of atoms and so on. All this data helps us to understand the world around us. Yet in The Munro Society newsletter, the President wrote 'most hillwalkers have an unhealthy fascination with numbers'. This casual comment reflected a commonly held viewpoint, but why should an interest in numbers be regarded as unhealthy? It sounds like a guilty secret that most hill baggers share but few are prepared to acknowledge in a public forum.

Let's imagine how The Munro Society would work without an interest in numbers. It would be a society for people who think they have probably climbed all the hills in Scotland that are fairly high, however many that may be. Or let's imagine sport without numbers, a world in which St Johnstone and Dundee United played an entertaining football match lasting quite a while in which both sides scored some goals and the attendance seemed to be reasonably high. A world where a young British woman won the US Open by playing tennis better than her opponents, in the opinion of the judges, and the Ryder Cup was shared because no-one recorded the number of strokes played.

Numbers are essential for economics, finance, medicine, science, technology and most aspects of the modern world. Most books have numbered pages and music has a numeric time signature. It is hard to think of any logical reason why anyone should regard an interest in numbers as unhealthy. Psychologists regard it as healthier for people to acknowledge and accept their own interests and inclinations than to hide them or feel guilty about them. Interests only tend to be become unhealthy when they are so obsessive that they have an adverse effect on other people or on other aspects of life, such as eating nothing but carrots or filling every room in a house with teddy bears or old socks.

No-one would refer to hillwalkers having an unhealthy interest in wildlife, photography, poetry or history, but numbers are culturally regarded as less worthy of attention. Outdoor writers in mainstream magazines reinforce this view. They do not express any interest in numbers in case it is seen to dilute their enthusiasm for the hills, wildlife and wild places. Yet there is no conflict between numbers and the natural world if you are not killing or spoiling anything. Few people are more passionate about wildlife than Chris Packham, yet he is honest enough to express an enthusiasm for data because it keeps him informed and entertained.

It is of course possible to enjoy hillwalking without being concerned with the heights of hills, but hill bagging requires paying attention to heights and keeping count of hills climbed. The consequence is a greater incentive to get out and experience all aspects of walking in the hills in all sorts of conditions.

In recent years, satellite technology has enabled us to obtain far more accurate data about the topography of the landscape than ever before. Not everyone approves of paying such close attention to the heights of hills, as though it somehow detracts from the simple practice of walking up and down hills. However, my own experience has been that the process of obtaining more accurate data through hill surveying has greatly enhanced my days in the hills. It has encouraged me to get out more often, to climb new hills, to choose new routes, to see more sights and to appreciate more aspects of the landscape. It has helped me to keep mind and body healthy and it has encouraged me to analyse in more detail the qualities that make walking in the hills particularly enjoyable. This analysis led me to abandon dependence on round numbers such as 3000 feet, 900 metres or 30 metres and to choose a definition that in my opinion better captures the landscape and the best walking that is available on higher ground. Such detailed analysis had never been possible before because the data was not accurate enough. This has enabled me to produce a complete catalogue of the high hills for the first time, without having to rely on the vagaries of historical data and inconsistent mapping.

When I felt ready to publish my survey data and the accompanying stories, I was intending to call the book The High Hills of Britain, but shortly before printing I decided to make it more precise by inserting a number into the title, so it became The 1033 High Hills of Britain. The title embraces the numerical aspect of hill bagging, with seven other numbers on the cover to reinforce the point. This is deliberately unfashionable and counter-cultural. I have acknowledged the simple truth that numbers are an important aspect of hill bagging.

The cover photograph shows four summits over 3000 feet high. One of them is Bidean a' Ghlas Thuill, the highest point of An Teallach. The other three rocky summits are on the superb east ridge of this magnificent mountain, which stakes a good claim to be the finest in the land. Yet none of these lower summits were listed by Hugh Munro and they have never appeared in subsequent revisions to his work. Why is this? It may have been an oversight that was never rectified. Only three of the four summits qualify as High Hills using my precise definition, which shows that whatever criteria are used, there will always be other points that do not qualify. The Far East Top is 1002.4m high and rises 19.7m above the col connecting it to the East Top. If I had used a strict definition of 20 metres of prominence then this summit would not have qualified, so I adjusted the definition to include it and 26 other summits with less than 20m prominence, such as Ben Macdui North Top and Bidean nam Bian West Top. This illustrates the principle of fitting the definition to the landscape rather than the other way round. Paying closer attention to the landscape has revealed several other summits that have never featured in any editions of Munro's work, including 25 summits with over 20m drop:

Watching this set of hills emerge from the mists of obscurity has felt like filling in the missing pieces in a jigsaw, seeing the landscape as it really is rather than our previous patchy representation of it. Clach Choutsaich is a stunningly fine tor that is more often avoided than climbed. Carn Sasunnaich and Spidean Mialach West Top are well-known cairned summits that have caused many walkers to think they were at the highest point in thick mist. The summits on Aonach Eagach, Liathach, An Teallach and elsewhere are bypassed by paths and not often climbed.

There is of course no strict drop criterion for hills in Munro's list, which is why there are currently several summits listed as Munro Tops that have less than 20 metres of prominence:

Having climbed both these sets of hills, my view is that the 25 unlisted hills compare very favourably with the listed 20. That would be irrelevant if the current list reflected Munro's own judgement but that is far from the case, as lots of hills of greater prominence have been removed from recent editions of his work for no apparent reason, so it is inaccurate historically as well as scientifically. My research findings have left me with even more respect for the work of Munro, as discussed in Journal number 5 (How Accurate Was Munro?). This encouraged me to republish his own final work in the High Hills book, with as few updates as necessary to bring the 1921 tables up to date.

Extending close attention to the hills below 3000 feet has revealed an even greater trove of previously unlisted riches in the Highlands that have been overlooked by most hill baggers. Full details are given in the book, but here are a handful of the most prominent lesser-known summits:

Most of these names will be unfamiliar to most hillwalkers yet they are just a few of the many high and prominent hills that have been overlooked in the past. There are few paths on most of these summits and none are needed, because the terrain is excellent for walking almost everywhere above 838 metres (2750 feet).

The set of 1033 High Hills can be listed in ten pages, but the book is over 400 pages long because the accurate data is merely the framework on which numerous rich experiences have been built. These are reflected in all the stories, themes, photographs and satellite maps that form the bulk of the book. Most of the content is therefore verbal or visual, not numerical. The data forms a relatively small component but it is vital to provide the structure and context for the rest of the content. This is true of most sources of data. A football result determines the points won but it tells you nothing about the ebb and flow of the match, the incidents and individual performances, the intense highlights and the periods when not much happens. All are needed to appreciate the sport in full.

In general, good journalism covers the data itself, the interpretation and impact of the figures and some of the personal stories from people involved. All are connected and all are important. There is no apparent reason why climbing and bagging hills should be any different. All the elements that hillwalkers experience are connected, including the visual, physical, mental, meteorological and numerical aspects. Some people are not particularly interested in fine details such as the names of moths or mosses but they can still appreciate seeing them and do not regard it as unhealthy to be well informed about such matters. Perhaps it is time for those who appreciate the finer details of topography and who keep count of hills climbed to regard these as healthy interests, to accept all aspects of our enthusiasm without being concerned about what other people think.

If you are going to count or measure something then it is important to have a clear definition of what that thing is, so you know what counts and what does not. The problem with Munro's list now is that it does not have either a historic or a scientific definition and so the question of what should count has become contentious. In the 1033 High Hills book I have separated the historic list produced and revised by the man himself from the more comprehensive and topographically accurate list that has a precise definition. This has entailed correcting the heights of many of the hills that are shown on maps and in other books.

Renumbering is not as fashionable as rewilding, but perhaps it is time for some rethinking about numbers. After all, how will it be possible to assess the progress of rewilding initiatives if no-one knows how many trees have been planted or how many birds and wild animals there are in different areas. Accurate data is important for most outdoor initiatives and so it seems time for an update to number culture and to refrain from regarding an interest in numbers as unhealthy.

The 1033 High Hills of Britain is now available from Pedantic Press for £20.