A well-intentioned programme designed to reduce the mounting rubbish crisis on Mount Everest has been officially abandoned after more than a decade, following revelations that dishonest climbers repeatedly exploited loopholes in the system. Introduced in 2014, the scheme aimed to incentivize mountaineers to remove waste from the world’s highest peak. Instead, officials now concede that the initiative failed to address the most serious sources of pollution particularly in Everest’s highest and most dangerous camps.
The programme required climbers ascending beyond Everest Base Camp to pay a refundable deposit of $4,000 (around £2,964). To reclaim that money, each climber had to bring at least 18 pounds (8 kilograms) of rubbish back down the mountain. Authorities hoped the rule would gradually reduce decades of accumulated waste, including discarded oxygen cylinders, torn tents, abandoned food packaging, and even human waste left behind by expeditions stretching back to the early 20th century.
Eleven years later, officials acknowledge that the rubbish problem has not only persisted but continues to grow.
How the System Was Exploited
The fundamental flaw in the scheme, according to environmental authorities and Sherpa leaders, was how easily climbers could meet the requirement without addressing the worst pollution zones. Instead of hauling trash down from higher camps — where waste removal is far more dangerous and physically demanding many climbers simply collected rubbish from lower camps or even from areas near Base Camp.
Speaking to the BBC, Tshering Sherpa, chief executive officer of the Sagarmatha Pollution Control Committee (SPCC), which manages waste checkpoints on Everest, explained how the system was undermined.
“From higher camps, people tend to bring back oxygen bottles only,” he said. “Other things like tents, cans, boxes of packed food, and drinks are mostly left behind there. That’s why we still see so much waste piling up.”
Because collecting rubbish from lower elevations was easier and safer, climbers could technically comply with the rules while leaving behind the bulk of the mountain’s garbage especially at Camp Three, Camp Four, and along the notorious “death zone” above 8,000 metres.
A Growing Environmental Crisis
Mount Everest lies within Sagarmatha National Park, a UNESCO World Heritage Site in Nepal’s Khumbu region. Over the past two decades, tourism in the park has surged dramatically. Visitor numbers doubled between 2014 and 2017 alone, and while the COVID-19 pandemic briefly slowed traffic, climbing activity has since rebounded strongly.
Tourism brings millions of dollars into Nepal’s economy and provides livelihoods for local communities, particularly the Sherpa people. However, it also generates enormous amounts of waste. Each climbing expedition requires tents, oxygen cylinders, fuel canisters, food supplies, batteries, and protective equipment much of which is abandoned once it becomes damaged or unnecessary.
Shocking images routinely emerge at the end of each climbing season showing Everest’s camps strewn with torn tents, broken ladders, empty cans, plastic packaging, and frozen human waste. Because the SPCC records only the amount of waste removed not what remains there is no official figure for the total volume of rubbish still scattered across the mountain.
However, a scientific paper published in 2020 estimated that as much as 50 tonnes of solid waste may have accumulated on Everest over the past 60 years. Meanwhile, the Nepalese Army reported that it removed approximately 34 tonnes of waste from Everest and nearby peaks in 2022, up from 27.6 tonnes the year before a sign both of intensified cleanup efforts and the scale of the ongoing problem.
The Limits of the Deposit Scheme
At the time of the scheme’s introduction, Nepalese tourism officials pledged strict enforcement. Madhusudan Burlakoti, a senior official at the tourism ministry, said climbers who failed to comply would face legal consequences.
“The government has decided that each member of an expedition must bring back at least eight kilos of garbage, apart from their own trash,” he said.
In practice, enforcement was minimal. According to authorities, the vast majority of climbers successfully reclaimed their deposits over the programme’s 11-year lifespan. Yet this statistic masked a deeper issue: while climbers returned the required 8 kilograms of waste, they were producing far more rubbish themselves during their expeditions.
Tshering Sherpa estimates that the average climber generates around 12 kilograms (26 pounds) of waste over a typical six-week acclimatization and summit attempt. This means that even compliant climbers were often leaving more behind than they removed.
Compounding the problem was a lack of oversight. Beyond a checkpoint above the Khumbu Icefall, there was little to no monitoring of climbers’ behavior at higher elevations.
“Apart from the checkpoint, there is no monitoring of what climbers are doing,” Sherpa said. “That’s a major gap.”
New Rules, Tougher Measures
In response to the scheme’s failure, Nepalese authorities are now implementing a new approach: a non-refundable cleanup fee of approximately $4,000 per climber. Unlike the previous deposit, this fee will not be returned regardless of how much rubbish a climber brings down.
The money will be used to establish a permanent checkpoint at Camp Two and to deploy trained mountain rangers who will travel further up Everest to monitor waste disposal directly. Officials say this fund will finally provide the resources needed for consistent enforcement and large-scale cleanup operations.
Mingma Sherpa, chairperson of the Pasang Lhamu rural municipality, welcomed the change, noting that local communities had long questioned the effectiveness of the old system.
“We had been questioning the deposit scheme all this time because we were not aware of anyone who was penalized for not bringing their trash down,” he said. “There was no designated fund. Now, this non-refundable fee will create a fund that allows us to do proper cleanup and monitoring work.”
A Cultural and Ethical Shift
For many Sherpas, the issue goes beyond waste management. Everest is not just a tourist destination it is a sacred mountain deeply tied to local culture and identity. The continued accumulation of rubbish is seen as both an environmental disaster and a moral failure of modern mountaineering.
Experts argue that solving Everest’s rubbish problem will require more than fees and checkpoints. Cultural change within the climbing community including stricter expedition standards, fewer permits, and greater accountability for tour operators may be just as important.
As Everest continues to attract record numbers of climbers chasing personal achievement, the challenge for Nepal will be balancing economic benefits with environmental responsibility. The abandonment of the deposit scheme marks a clear admission that goodwill alone is not enough.