We previously noted that, for existentialism, we are fundamentally free to choose our actions and create ourselves as skiers, constructing a meaning for our skiing. By selecting our actions, we take full responsibility for them, thus establishing ourselves as authentic skiers.
Radical Freedom and Authentic Movement
Existentialism posits that existence precedes essence. On the mountain, a skier possesses no fixed nature or predetermined destiny. We are fundamentally condemned to be free. Each turn down the slope is not a mechanical reaction to gravity, but an active, conscious choice. Through these choices, we ‘create’ ourselves as skiers.
We construct a highly individualized meaning for our skiing from absolute nothingness. By consciously selecting our line, our speed, and our technique, we must assume the crushing weight of total responsibility for our physical trajectory. There is no external scapegoat—neither the icy terrain, the visibility, nor the equipment.
In embracing this absolute accountability, we transcend mere physical recreation. We establish ourselves as authentic skiers (authenticité), aligning our physical movements with our inner existential truth.
The Transformed Project: Being-on-the-Mountain
To glide down a mountain is to exist in a state of perpetual existential vulnerability. Jean-Paul Sartre emphasized that a human being is a fluid process, always exposed to the radical possibility of modifying their original project (le projet originel).
Our original project dictates our fundamental orientation toward the skiing world. Yet, the dynamic terrain of the mountain continuously shatters our past configurations. It forces a real-time confrontation with our own way of being.
We are invited to transform our standard existence into a profound being-on-the-mountain (être-dans-la-montagne). This ontological shift requires us to actively re-choose ourselves in every fleeting moment. We synthesize our immediate actions, conscious thoughts, visceral sensations, and future aspirations into a unified, deliberate existence.
Bad Faith and the Reification of the Skier
Conversely, many individuals succumb to bad faith (mauvaise foi). They choose to flee from the anxiety of absolute freedom. These individuals choose to be mediocre skiers. They do not fail due to a lack of physical skill, but due to an ontological choice to treat themselves as passive objects rather than active agents.
They view themselves as mere things among other things, completely dictated by the snow conditions, the crowd, or the steepness of the slope. They mimic the motions of skiing while evading the personal responsibility of the descent.
While the freedom to choose mediocrity is an inherent right of human existence, existentialism reminds us that we always retain the terrifying freedom to act differently. We should never be trapped by our past limitations.
Temporal Rupture and the Novel Descent
We possess the reflective consciousness to look back at our past decisions, mistakes, and technical habits. However, Sartre reminds us that the past is fixed as the facticity of our skiing, whereas our present consciousness is a nothingness that separates us from that past.
We can achieve a radical temporal rupture. We can intentionally disconnect from our previous identity, fears, and muscle memory.
By severing ties with who we were on the previous run, we reinvent ourselves entirely. We exploit the existential void to create a completely novel, unburdened, and distinct way of interacting with the mountain.
Delving into Bad Faith
Applying Sartre’s concept of bad faith to a skier, it happens when the person tries to convince themselves that their biological and inevitable essence is “being an intermediate skier,” denying their human freedom to choose to be an improved version of themselves.
Sartre would divide the skier’s experience into three levels of bad faith:
1. The Skier Acting the Role (The Performance)
Imagine a skier at the base of the mountain. Their movements are exaggeratedly calculated:
- They walk with a robotic stiffness, carrying their skis on their shoulder in a very specific way.
- They adjust their goggles and bindings with theatrical precision.
- They speak strictly using the technical jargon of the sport and look at the weather with the fixed gaze of a snow professional.
This skier is playing the role of a skier. They need others (and themselves) to see them as a natural extension of the mountain and the skis, hiding the fact that they are simply a regular human being who chose to dress up like that this morning.
2. The Skier as an “Object” (Collapsing Freedom)
The deepest bad faith appears when the skier defines themselves through the sport to escape the anxiety of daily life.
- They tell themselves: “I am a skier, I was born for this, I don’t know how to do anything else in life.”
- By doing this, they reduce their existence to a mechanical object (the skier) that only responds to the laws of gravity and snow.
For Sartre, this is a lie. The skier is not a skier the same way a pine tree is a pine tree. The pine tree has no choice. The skier, on the other hand, actively chooses in every turn and every descent to keep skiing. They could throw themselves on the ground, take off their skis, and walk away, but they pretend the mountain “forces” them to go down.
3. The “Lifestyle” Trap
Nowadays, this is highly visible on social media or in some sports communities. When someone adopts the identity of a skier to fill their existential void—falling into the consumerism of specific brands, aesthetics, and discourses like “the mountain is my temple”—they are using a social mask to avoid facing the fundamental question: Who are they when the snow melts?
In short: an authentic skier enjoys the freedom of gliding, knowing it is a free choice minute by minute. A skier in bad faith takes refuge in the sport to pretend they do not have the freedom (nor the responsibility) to be anything else in their life.
Conclusion
The “original project” (le projet originel) represents an individual’s default mindset, habits, and preconceived plans for navigating the skiing world. The mountain’s dynamic terrain disrupts this rigid, autopilot approach, forcing a shift to “being-on-the-mountain” (être-dans-la-montagne) where one must actively, continuously, and instantly adapt to the present moment.
