A fatality on the Grossglockner, Austria’s highest mountain, triggered a global debate about »alpine divorces« – women being left behind by their male companions in the mountains and, in the worst cases, not returning alive – and about how men decide what matters on the mountain.
January 2025. Kals in East Tyrol, just after six o’clock in the morning. A young couple is standing in the parking lot outside the Lucknerhaus. Thomas P. and Kerstin G. are planning to climb the Grossglockner, Austria’s highest mountain. They’re in their midthirties and have been together for a few months. He’s an experienced alpinist; she’s athletic as well, and spends a lot of time in the mountains. He has already reached the summit several times but this is her first Glockner tour.
It will also be her last. Less than twenty-four hours later, the woman is dead. She freezes to death just a few meters below the summit. Her partner returns to the valley alone. And a good year later, he’s convicted of grossly negligent manslaughter, though the verdict is not yet final (both the defendant and the prosecution have appealed). But in the initial proceedings, the judge concluded that Thomas P. carried responsibility during the climb. His poor decisions led to the death of Kerstin G., this verdict says. It is these alleged misjudgments by Thomas P. that had people around the world speculating about the case even before the trial.
The case went viral; at the trial, the courtroom was bursting with reporters from all over the world. The debate was also raging on social media. People want to understand: Why did Thomas P. make these decisions? Was he in an exceptional state that made rational thought impossible? Or did he know what risks and consequences his actions carried? What does that say about him – and about men on the mountain more broadly?
In the online debate about the case, the term »alpine divorce« quickly popped up on TikTok, Instagram, and other platforms. Women have shared stories about being left behind by their male companions on hikes in the mountains. Almost always, the companions are romantic partners. And almost always, the women’s stories sound similar. »We set off together. I got tired« or »We had a fight« And then: »He left me behind«. Listening to their accounts, you might get the impression that some men put their ego ahead of their partners’ needs in the mountains – and reveal a great deal about their attitudes in the process.
That’s because every decision is also a value judgment. Psychologist Daniel Kahneman distinguishes between fast, intuitive thinking and slow, analytical thinking. There’s no time to draw up lists on the mountain; we think fast. This can be vital for survival, but it also entails risks – for example, when subjective experience guides us more than objective safety recommendations. How quickly thunderstorms can roll through the mountains is something you often understand only once you’ve stood there soaked to the bone. Conversely, the more often risky decisions turn out well, the more plausible they seem to us the next time.
Did Thomas P. think fast rather than slow? Did he rely more on his own personal data set than on the basic rules of mountaineering? His alleged poor decisions are difficult to explain otherwise.
Thomas P. knew the route; he’d done it several times before. Is that why the couple set off later than mountain guides from the region recommend? Is that why they ignored a sign advising climbers to turn back if they were taking too long on a particular section? Is that why they didn’t have enough emergency gear on them? Because the trip had gone well for him before?
The emphasis is on for him. The judge concluded that it was Thomas P. who had planned the tour and acted as the de facto guide. He was significantly more experienced than his partner and knew the route. His partner relied on him. That doesn’t mean she wasn’t a capable mountaineer or that she followed him blindly. But as the more experienced of the two, he at least should have realized what a fatal turn their trip was taking. Thomas P. described Kerstin G. as very suddenly becoming weaker later in the evening, which is why she could no longer keep going. He wanted to descend to get help – or so his account goes.
But according to an expert report commissioned by the prosecution, Kerstin G.’s fitness watch shows that her decline had already been building. In an interview with the weekly newspaper Die Zeit, Kerstin G.’s mother vehemently objected to her daughter being portrayed as a »dumb girl«. Kerstin G. was not naïve – she was ambitious and »strong-willed«. It was her life – and the willingness to take risks was her decision. The judge presiding over the case saw it differently. Over the course of the day, the couple’s progress slowed steadily. As the more experienced mountaineer, Thomas P. should have recognized the warning signs, he ruled.
Many »alpine divorce« stories revolve around different ideas of a shared outing in the mountains. For some, the mountain is primarily a physical challenge. For others, a shared experience. When that balance is disturbed, the dynamics of the relationship often topple as well. In many accounts, women describe how their needs suddenly became secondary: fatigue, fear, or uncertainty seemed less important than the goal of pushing on. The mountain stops being a place of shared experience and becomes a space where ambition, consideration, and care are redefined.
This brings us to a point that many people find especially disturbing about the case of Thomas P. and Kerstin G. During that fateful climb, the two had several opportunities to avert disaster. Other climbers turned back because of the wind. The couple pressed on. They also ignored a warning sign. Mountain rescuers, who spotted them in the darkness via a webcam, sent a helicopter – but the couple sent no distress signal as it flew over them. An alpine police officer even reached Thomas P. by phone – after that, contact was lost. He testified at the trial that for him, the conversation was a call for help and that he expected rescue was on the way. The police officer saw it differently. In any case, by that point it was already the middle of the night; Kerstin G. was exhausted and barely able to keep climbing. What kept Thomas P. from turning back for so long? From accepting help? From actively calling for rescue?
It must have been a combination of factors. A mix of misjudgments, failed communication between the couple, and plain old bad luck. But ambition likely played a role too. A willingness to take risks. Obstinacy. A worldview in which accepting help is a sign of weakness. This brings us back to the question of what values come to the fore in extreme situations.
In court, Thomas P. testified that he was infinitely sorry for what had happened. But he didn’t consider himself culpable for the outcome. A judge disagreed – in the first ruling. Whether the criminal verdict will stand is for the courts to decide. But the discussion about »alpine divorces« isn’t only about legal issues. It also highlights how great many women’s fear is of relying on the wrong person – and then being abandoned in an extreme situation.
