The most brilliant concepts can be very simple and yet difficult to assimilate. That’s how I felt when I discovered the systems approach and the work of Donnella Meadows. Powerful but complex. It took me a long time and a lot of miles to understand.

Every summer since 2021, I’ve gone walking alone in the mountains. It sounds easy: no constraints, you decide everything on your own. In reality, it’s merciless: you’re face to face with yourself in nature and you have to deal with the consequences of your actions alone. Inevitably, it makes you think. This experience has enabled me to learn a lot about myself – often at my own expense – and to experience what it means to change a system.

Learning experience 1 – Tour du Mont Blanc 2021

Preparing for this walk looks simple: I did it with friends twenty years ago. All I have to do is buy a guidebook for the route, get the train tickets and complete my equipment (tent, duvet, mat, stove, etc.). As departure approached, I could feel the stress rising. I compulsively look at the Météo France app, worried about the idea of walking alone in bad weather. And I consult even more compulsively the list of ‘red’ regions from the Swiss Federal Office of Public Health, whose inhabitants are banned from the country during the COVID period. On the day of departure, Météo France forecasts fine weather for a week, but Paris remains hopelessly in the Swiss red list. I set off anyway – a little nervous – but we’ll see!

On 11 June, I got off the train to join the GR “TMB” at Saint-Gervais in Haute-Savoie. I was soon confronted by external factors that sent my emotions into a serious tailspin. My fear of bad weather and the Swiss police made me underestimate a number of realities.

1. The weather. The weather is magnificent but it’s a heatwave. It wasn’t the best idea in the world to start climbing at 35 degrees after a country-style pizza on the terrace. The first hour was brutal, and I decided to leave early the next few days to climb in the fresh air.
2. The weight. After doubting the weight of my bag the day before I set off (17 kilos), I told myself that it would be fine. I didn’t really see what I could have taken off. After an hour’s walk with back and lung problems, I’m starting to get some ideas. The fear of running out made me take too much equipment, water and food.
3. The snow. During an initial break, the Saint-Gervais guide office told me that there was two metres of snow at the top of the first summit pass. I hadn’t even thought about it. I didn’t even think to check the snow conditions. What do I do now? After a moment of panic, the Office de Haute Montagne in Chamonix reassured me by telling me on the phone that I could use crampons. I bought some the first evening before climbing the famous Croix du Bonhomme pass. I had a bad night in my little tent, fearing the climb in the snow. I decide to leave before sunrise to avoid slipping. I climbed in the cold on a path and then with my crampons in the deepening snow. It’s a tough climb, but I stay in the shade and fear gives me wings. When I reach the pass, I can see the roof of a hut stuck in the snow. Victory!
4. The water. I’m disappointed as I start the descent into the sun. The snow is starting to melt and my legs are tired, my stride unsteady. Impatient to reach the campsite after this second day, I run downhill and slip in a puddle of melted snow. It was a hard landing. The result: a broken pole and a bloody knee and elbow. I resumed the descent slowly with a patched-up stick. Not serious, but painful. And humiliating.
5. The light. On the way down to Italy the next day, the sun’s reflection off the snow burned my neck and calves so badly that I peeled for the rest of the trip. The next day, I met a hiker whose burns had degenerated into blisters on her face. I never let go of my tube of cream and my trousers.

In systems theory, these experiences are called Type 1 changes. My environment and my body have sent me information about my actions – feedback – which has led me to make changes to certain elements of my system: information, materials, supplies, rhythm, timetables. The feedback I received was ‘negative‘ in the sense that it prompted me to adjust things downwards: fatigue, burns, loading, distance…. In behavioural psychology, this type of learning involving the detection and correction of an error is known as ‘single loop learning‘.

After crossing the Col Ferret into Switzerland, the end of the hike led me to another observation. Despite being 38 years old, the further I walked, the more my body got used to it and the easier it became. So much so that I swallowed two stages in one day and no longer felt the weight of my rucksack at the end of the tour. Systems theory refers to this as a positive feedback loop. By realising that I could go faster and further without damage, I had gone even faster and further.