The Main Ethical Questions Raised by Sites of Death and Disaster Becoming Attractions for Visitors - Term Paper Example

Dark Tourism Essay Critically discuss the main ethical questions raised by sites, or representations, of death and disaster becoming attractions for visitors? Use examples or case studies to illustrate your discussion. The practice of exploring offbeat destinations has grown in stature in the last few decades or so. Several reputed tour operators have introduced cost effective packages to pull in more number of vacationers into exotic locations. However, literature on travel and tourism in recent times has focused on a shift in choices for global backpackers. Following the rapid succession of major earthquakes in the new millennium, which resulted in massive losses of lives and properties, tourist inflow in places such as Indonesia, the coastal India, Sri Lanka, and Haiti has increased at a brisk rate. Disaster tourism is a self-sufficing term indicating the practice of travelling to disaster zones basically for two reasons. Firstly, queer attractions with death and disaster can be attributed primarily to human curiosity to feel the pulse of a place which has once been subjected to destruction. The notion of questionable moral is involved with such consumer behaviour. On one hand, the most fundamental clauses of human rights presuppose moderation on ethical grounds. On the other hand, practical reasons are no less an important consideration for sites that require urgent attention in terms of relief and other humanitarian aids. Secondly, many travellers prefer to visit disaster-struck areas simply because such areas arouse their idle interests, but do not oblige them to extend any kind of material support to the victims (Inc Icon Group International 2008:418). Moreover, any form of macabre elicits such an ominously repulsive response from a person that it actually helps getting over that experience to see the brighter side of things. Spiritual connotations with death and disaster do not condone the perpetrators of the events in any way, but rather redeems the eternal faith in life in all its hues (Stone 2006). Singh (2004) argues that human curiosity is one of the most primal elements responsible for drawing tourists to places struck by natural calamities or accidents. What does not occur on a regular basis invokes in us a sense of bewilderment. Such incidents satiate our curious selves and stimulate our impulses to be a part of something which is not ordinary. Collecting souvenirs from a place of accident or disaster is another perk which is difficult to ignore. In line with the curiosity argument, it may be mentioned that popularity of adventure sports and circus activities is motivated by the same instinct. The spectatorship draws its entertainment value from the imagined likelihood of an accident that would overhaul the same provided by actual performances of the participants. Moreover, the media hype generated immediately after a disaster adds to the fun (97). As mentioned earlier, the 2004 tsunami in the Indian Ocean left an indelible scar upon the lives of many. Not only did it ruin human lives and properties in several countries, but it also packed a decisive punch as far as tourism development was concerned. Yet, it was rather odd to notice how a typical contingent of tourists preferred to come back to the very spots that were once gulped by the giant tsunami waves. Berger (2007) shares the viewpoint that those tourists are motivated to have first hand account of what happened earlier and to take part in history (11-2). The ethical aspects involving marketing of disaster and death tourism are polemic to say the least. From pure marketing perspectives, there is nothing unfair in tapping people’s choices to optimise revenues. This may be substantiated by the ontogenesis of disaster tourism as a distinctive brand (Pfister and Tiemey 2008:64). Such branding allows for amassing money needed for the economic development of particular regions. Ethical considerations behind promoting disaster as a lucrative business proposition were overlooked in the context of American tourism markets during the 1990s. Following the catastrophic 1998 Hurricane Mitch, which hit Honduras, Nicaragua and El Salvador, revenues from tourism had reduced considerably. This adverse impact compelled the authorities concerned to campaign for disaster tourism, in an attempt to draw in affluent bunch of tourists from North America (Mowforth and Munt 2003:255). Needless to mention, such attempts were made to provide a sustained impetus upon the deteriorating economy of the region. Widespread devastation caused by natural disasters was utilised as a set piece to expedite the process of economic rebuilding. Taking a cue from what Henderson (2007) has to say about the grim consequences of natural calamities, it may be argued that planning plays an important part in promoting disaster tourism. While it is very much an established fact that some tourists tend to visit places of devastation out of their curiosity and personal interests, a wee bit of strategic planning to set the disaster management agencies on high alert for minimising damages from a possible natural calamity would certainly do no harm for the productive cause of tourism in any way. This is especially applicable to areas that are popular venues for global tourists and at the same time, are prone to natural calamities such as earthquakes, storms, landslides and volcanic eruptions. Given that tourists know they will be provided with the best of post-disaster safety services should any disaster occur, it will encourage them to pursue disaster and death tourism all the more. The author cites examples of Florida and Thailand to show how technical expertise in conveying credible information can assure tourists of their security. In the aftermaths of hurricanes in Florida and tsunami in Thailand, authorities of the respective countries adopted innovative marketing strategies to renew the interests of tourists (96). Garoian and Gaudelius discuss at length the key academic insights into the psychology of tourists who keep coming back to places that haunt humankind. They tacitly suggest how media activities exploit human sentiments in the wake of large-scale disasters, as happened in 2004. The tsunami in the Indian Ocean was catastrophic in all respects. Yet, the tragedy was marketed in the foil of footages, still photography and other media tools as part of a rat race to gain upper hands over rival news agencies. Each news agency wanted to be the first to interview the survivors and take snapshots or record video footages of the destruction. Such media aspects may be examined in the light of voyeuristic tourism, which is tantamount to disaster tourism on ethical grounds, wherein media tries to disseminate its exploitative feats into the realms of people’s psychological alleyways, thereby “feeding our insatiable appetite for and complicity in spectacle culture” (Garoian and Gaudelius 2008:121). Garoian and Gaudelius (2008) probe further into the ontology of spectacle culture and look into the economic aspects associated with human tendency to amplify the significance, or the lack of it, of what is being sold to them within a politically motivated framework. Elucidating more on this, they recourse to sociological interpretation of disaster tourism or dark tourism (122). But when it comes to understanding the thin borderline between ethical reasons to overtly follow this practice and the economic gains it entails, we might as well resort to the arguments propounded by Lennon and Foley (2000). They use a mitigating investigatory tool to substantiate the viewpoints shared by Garoian and Gaudelius (2008). It appears to be acceptable to visit death sites immediately following the events themselves to ‘show respect’ for the dead and to mourn. For example, the Oklahoma City bombing, the death of Diana, Princess of Wales, in a Paris underpass, and the massacre of schoolchildren in Dunblane, Scotland, brought spontaneous and public shows of grief and expressions of compassion at the sites themselves, often in the form of floral tributes (10). It is quite clear from these interpretations that any attempt to arrive at a holistic justification of the practice in the hindsight would entail little or no logical reasoning. Keeping aside the curiosity argument, it can never be fully understood as to why cultural drifts invariably coincide with exploration of destinations that bear testimony to horrific events from the past. To quote Lennon and Foley (2000) once again, What takes longer to be acceptable in any form of interpretation of the events – anything which could be said to be a touristic ‘experience’, however that experience may be intended. Yet, there appears to be a point at which this becomes acceptable (10). Quite evidently, the point of resemblance between what can be singularly termed as dark tourism and what can be tentatively called cultural tourism is blurred. Sometimes, the signifier itself exploits the signified for gaining political or other mileages. The US Holocaust Memorial Museum in Washington, DC is not geographically connected with the actual events of the Holocaust. Yet, this particular site pulls in more than 2.5 million visitors every year, generating handsome revenues for the tourism industry in the US. Lennon and Foley (2000) maintain that the contextual evidence of events being free to multiple explanations is at the heart of the ethical flux involving dark tourism (10). Waal (2005) endorses a markedly different viewpoint of disaster tourism. The author focuses on the impoverished segment of a society to explain the bias argument involving the void between theoretical construct of rural poverty and the actual reality of the same. According to the bias argument, tourists having an academic interest for developing rural economy do not have an accurate picture of the deprived lot of the village dwellers. Hence, their efforts fail to meet the requirements for truly alleviating poverty for its own sake. The ethical aspects of relief work at a damaged site are either exaggerated or undermined, which creates a shallow and biased worldview of poverty and distress. Disaster tourists are driven by a compulsive urge to report the events that take place around them in the aftermath of an accident or a natural calamity. These reports need to be sternly factual so that the world comes to know about the actual predicament of the victims. But since journalism or other forms of mass media operates under an imagistic projection of personal or business interests, the ethical issues, even if considered, assume a political shape that “combines action and compassion” (21). Therefore, it is quite apparent that the basics of disaster tourism are very much grounded on a carefully constructed approach which is sanctioned both by moral norms and political correctness. The case study of Mozambique in the mid-1980s adequately brings out the irreverence of disaster tourists. Following the turbulent domestic politics in the nation in late 1970s and early 1980s, economic activities came to a near stalemate and the authorities had to depend greatly on foreign aids for sustaining life in the region. So much was the need for foreign investment in the development sectors of the country that de facto powers were bestowed upon some of the overseas delegates, so that they could uninhibitedly exert their influential authority over procurement and disbursal of aids. But this eventually led to a conundrum as the Mozambique government had long been under the impression that the appointed outsiders were genuinely sympathetic to the cause of the people and the land. At the same time, foreign assistance was not dealt with properly either (Hanlon 1991:96). The collective implications of the Mozambique case study go to show how disaster tourism can have its acute shortcomings if planned poorly and in an overtly dependent manner. Moreover, it also makes the fact recognisable that one has to safeguard against the mean interests of tourists who might be beguiling in appearance but opportunist in nature. But what is it that prompts tourists to shift their fields of interest from a healthy form of nature tourism to such esoteric corners? To find an answer to this all-important question, it is imperative to analyse the case study of Alcatraz and Robben Island in the United States of America and South Africa respectively. Both these islands once served as places of banishment for convicted felons. In 1976, the Alcatraz Island was enlisted on the National Register of Historic Places (U.S. Department of the Interior 2010). Similarly, the Robben Island too has been a popular pilgrimage and heritage site in South Africa, standing as an invincible witness to the imprisonment of many notable political leaders and prisoners of war from the times of Dutch occupation. It is academically difficult to categorise both these sites under dark tourism hideouts. If done so, the categorisation would entail a linear interpretation of a number of composite elements existing in such practices. They highlight the longstanding penal history of various colonial regimes and stress on documentation of heritage marketing in order to arrive at a clear understanding of what travellers expect when they visit abandoned sites of imprisonment or punishment (Strange and Kempa 2003). To this effect, the research tool used by Strange and Kempa corresponds to preliminary investigation followed by empirical backing. Likewise, Seaton (1999) looks into the phylogeny of an erstwhile battlefield through am academic model which lays emphasis on a mix of cultural and social factors. The battlefield of Waterloo is now considered to be one of the most sought after destinations for leisure tourists as well as historians and researchers. This European landmark has carved a niche for itself with an alluringly mystique charm and religious significance. The war-ravaged land of Waterloo, as purported by Seaton, has gradually evolved into a heritage site courtesy of the coincidental phenomenon involving societal and ideological background of visitors and that of the place itself. The amalgamation of both these factors has led to the development of dark tourism in the region. It may be noted, however, that the ethical concerns in case of Waterloo are different from some of the earlier case studies discussed in this paper. Social and ideological factors neither refute nor sanction the curiosity argument. On the contrary, these factors uphold the process of identity formation for individuals who gain wisdom through experience. The role of memory as an auto-fuelling, static ingredient amidst changing times and altering moral values is to be taken into account as well. According to Huyssen (2003), public memory of events of colossal proportions, including massacre, natural disasters, human rights abuse, is given a tangible outline through erection of monuments, memorials and commemorative sites. But once again, it is extremely open to interpretations as to what purpose memory builders serve with regard to the transitional nature of time (94). Do they simply freeze the past or do they relive it? The ensuing paragraph will make an attempt to answer this question. The ever growing popularity of dark tourism practices worldwide can be attributed to not just curiosity or upbringing, but also to the modern phenomenon of relieving the past in order to feel an intimate sense of belonging with what’s bygone. Discourses on memory and how it is related to tourism sometimes offer a surreal experience to whoever exerting his/her mind toward it. The conflict between immoral acts of memory and nostalgic perception of it is at the very heart of travelogues that discuss dark tourism in particular (Erll and Rigney 2009:19). For example, rumination over the historic fall of the Berlin Wall is capable of eliciting a twofold response from the subject. Depending on the spatial proximity of the subject at the time of the incident, he/she may either suffer from a conscience of guilt or undergo a fond recollection of the event. Coinage of terms such as trauma tourism or terror tourism indicates the mainstream practices involving touristic association with sites of battle, natural calamities, terrorist attacks and so on. Tumarkin (2005) enumerates a number of sites that routinely feature in the itinerary of any tour operators in Europe, Asia or the Americas. The author names in particular the warzones of Europe, Vietnam, the Middle East, Hiroshima and Berlin, Ground Zero in New York, Auschwitz and Dachau in Poland and a few more. It may be noted that all these sites are thronged with visitors throughout the year and since the 1990s, places of loss and devastation are visited more regularly by travellers than anytime before. The author further notes how such grim sites are being transformed into amicable setups that attract tourists spontaneously (41-43). However, in relation to the thesis question being discussed in this paper, it is worth considering the primacy of the following part, taken from Tumarkin’s study: September 11 only just happened. Yet within months, Goldberg writes, it was treated like ‘a landmark from distant history’ (…) The place ‘feels like just another sentimental landmark’. For those who did not lose anyone in the attacks and particularly for people outside New York, Ground Zero could elicit the same kind of lurid fascination as sites of sensationalised murders. In the end, it could appear as just another place where something famous happened, a must-see destination with must-buy souvenirs and must-take photos (Tumarkin 2005:43-4). In case of the Ground Zero case study mentioned above, one can evidently trace a blurred borderline between emotion and entertainment in practices of dark tourism or death tourism. The blatantly dissociative nature of consumerism prevents sensible and sensitive repercussions from the onlookers, who, in any case, would want to optimise the value for entertainment which they pay for. In this context, Jonathan Freedland of The Guardian addresses the critical issue of entertainment showcased in narratives of actual disasters. The crust of his argument is very much aligned with Tumarkin’s study of the Ground Zero and its current status as a tourist spot. The evolution of cinema as a medium of entertainment has brought about a perspective change in audience’s understanding of disasters such as the Holocaust. It seems as if the global audience has come in grips with the extremities of horror, no matter however repulsive it may be to sane minds. Sentimental quandaries no longer stand a chance of being graded as genuine compassion for death. Instead, cinematic representations of the darkest episodes of human history tend to lessen the consequences of battles and mass killing (Guardian News and Media Limited 2010). What is not as singular as the cinematic exaggerations of reality is the multifaceted depiction of reality – stretched almost to the point of distortion. So the dilemma for responsible filmmakers lies in not the qualitative evaluation of the content, but the credible portrayal of the same. Similarly, dark tourism mandates it to be pursued as a responsible task to recount the historical facts with moderation and sympathy, instead of tampering with, or sensationalising informative data for the sake of entertainment. Marketing the Holocaust and redressing the Auschwitz concentration camp with lucrative package deals can never erase the horrific memory of the events that took place in those places. In essence, fragmentation of the conceptual frameworks involving dark tourism presents the most challenging task to students and researchers in outlining any accurate and generic perspective. List of References Berger, A. A. (2007) Thailand tourism. London: Routledge Erll, A., and Rigney, A. (Eds.) (2009) Mediation, Remediation, and the Dynamics of Cultural Memory. Berlin: Walter de Gruyter Garoian, C. R., and Gaudelius, Y. (2008) Spectacle pedagogy: art, politics, and visual culture. Albany: SUNY Press Guardian News and Media Limited (2010) Visions of hell [online] available from [3 April 2010] Hanlon, J. (1991) Mozambique: who calls the shots?. Thornhill Square, London: James Currey Publishers Henderson, J. C. (2007) Tourism crises: causes, consequences and management. Jordan Hill, Oxford: Butterworth-Heinemann Huyssen, A. (2003) Present pasts: urban palimpsests and the politics of memory. Stanford, California: Stanford University Press Inc Icon Group International. (2008) Tourism: Webster’s Quotations, Facts and Phrases. San Diego, California: ICON Group International, Inc. Lennon, J. J., and Foley, M. (2000) Dark tourism. Bedford Row, London: Cengage Learning EMEA Mowforth, M., and Munt, I. (2003) Tourism and sustainability: development and new tourism in the Third World. London: Routledge Pfister, R., and Tiemey, P. (2008) Recreation, Event, and Tourism Businesses: Start-up and Sustainable Operations. Stanningley, Leeds: Human Kinetics Seaton, A. V. (1999) ‘War and thanatourism: Waterloo 1815-1914.’ Annals of Tourism Research 26, (1) 130-158 Singh, T. (2004) New horizons in tourism: strange experiences and stranger practices. Wallingford, Oxfordshire: CABI Stone, P. R. (2006) ‘A dark tourism spectrum: Towards a typology of death and macabre related tourist sites, attractions and exhibitions.’ Tourism 54, (2) 145-160 Strange, C., and Kempa, M. (2003) ‘Shades of dark tourism: Alcatraz and Robben Island.’ Annals of Tourism Research 30, (2) 386-405 Tumarkin, M. M. (2005) Traumascapes: the power and fate of places transformed by tragedy. Carlton, Victoria: Melbourne Univ. Publishing U. S. Department of the Interior (2010) National Register of Historic Places [online] available from [2 April 2010] Waal, A. D. (2005) Famine that kills: Darfur, Sudan. New York: Oxford University Press, US Read More