In reply to AP Melbourne:
If I hadn't run into the purple route and that volume indoors, in the middle of London, I wouldn't be here right now, packing up my trad gear for a sunny day on the grit, having abruptly rearranged my entire life for the chance to do so more often.
And the route-setters I know tend to be obsessive climbers who get outdoors as much as possible. Working at a climbing wall is one way to subsidize a climbing habit (can't have a climbing career on the dole these days, recent governments being less generous in that respect than Thatcher ...).
The scene might look different (though I keep hearing that Lycra's due for a revival), but the rock's the same. And some people are getting to meet it who'd never have had the chance before.
And it's a scene which I have found very kind and welcoming to the odd and the eccentric and the crazy, fortunately for me.
It's one thing to have qualms about the mainstreaming of climbing or its being subsumed into generic sports/fitness; god knows I have those qualms too.
But that's different from assuming that you can tell from a glance that anyone who's different from you can't possibly be having a real or meaningful experience.
There's irony in the idea that John Redhead's become a sacred cow (sacred crow, perhaps?) whose views have to be treated with sanctimonious reverence because of his "authenticity"; that hardly seems fitting.
(But then, I'm one of those plague-y feminists, as well as someone who began climbing indoors; he wouldn't like me anyway.)