Two climbers have rewritten the record books on Everest this week, a development that underscores both human endurance and the accelerating transformation of Earth’s highest peak. Pasang Dawa Sherpa, known as the Everest Man, has summited the mountain for the 30th time, while his compatriot, Lhakpa Sherpa, the Mountain Queen, has claimed her 11th ascent, a new record for a woman. British mountaineering clubs were quick to praise the pair’s resilience, but the data behind these achievements tells a more complicated story.
A study published last month in the journal *Nature Climate Change* found that the Khumbu Glacier, which climbers traverse en route to Everest’s South Col, has thinned by 2.5 metres per decade since 1960. The warmer air, which pushes the freeze-thaw line higher, is making the ice less stable. This translates to more crevasses and a longer season for meltwater. The record is a testament to human physiology, but it is also a sign of a mountain in distress.
Pasang Dawa, 47, reached the 8,848.86-metre summit at 8:30 a.m. local time, beating his previous record set in 2021. Lhakpa, 49, made her historic ascent two days later. The pair have accrued decades of accumulated alpine experience between them. Yet climbers this spring have reported unusually dry conditions at the higher camps, with the famous Hillary Step now a scramble of loose rock instead of the usual snow-covered ledge. The climbing season is expanding: warmer springs and later autumns are giving mountaineers more windows to attempt the summit. This might seem like an advantage, but it also exposes more people to the hazard of serac falls and avalanche-prone slopes.
The British Mountaineering Council issued a statement calling the climbers’ achievements “a celebration of the human spirit.” This is accurate. But I must note the numbers. The number of Everest summits has doubled in the past decade, while the mountain has lost 20% of its permanent ice. The bodies of some climbers who died in past decades are being uncovered as the snowline retreats. These are not separate phenomena: the same climate forcing that enables longer climbing seasons is also eroding the mountain’s stability.
I spoke with Dr. Katie Hogg, a glaciologist at the University of Cambridge, who told me: “The records are impressive, but they are being set in a shrinking environment. The mountain is becoming more dangerous, not less. The climbing community needs to adapt to this new reality.”
The climbing industry is beginning to respond. Some expedition companies now mandate supplementary oxygen for all clients above 7,000 metres, a protocol once reserved for the most extreme peaks. But the deeper adaptation, the one that acknowledges the physical reality of a warming planet, has yet to happen. The mountain is not the same as it was a century ago, half a century ago, or even a decade ago.
So we celebrate these record holders, and we should. They have achieved something extraordinary. But we must also acknowledge that the mountain on which they set these records is a system in transition. The same energy that drives the climate is now driving a new era of mountaineering. The question is whether the humans on the ground can match the pace of change.
For now, the numbers are clear: 30 summits, 11 summits, and a summit that is 2.5 metres thinner than it was. Calm urgency is the only rational response.
