‘Which Tour Agency Should I Book?’ - Why This is the Wrong Question to Ask
By Marinel M. de Jesus, Esq., PVC Founder
When travelers think about ethical trekking, the first question is often, “Which tour agency should I book with?” It’s natural to want to make a choice that doesn’t harm local communities. But the reality is far more complex: porter exploitation isn’t just about a few unethical companies—it is a systemic problem deeply embedded in the structure of international trekking tourism. Understanding this requires looking at the origins of the industry, the role of governments and agencies, and the gaps in legal protections that have persisted for decades.
Porters—the people who carry our bags, food, and equipment up mountains that take days or weeks to climb—are the backbone of trekking. Yet their labor is often undervalued, unsafe, and underpaid. In Nepal, for instance, porters frequently carry loads of 30–40 kilograms over high-altitude trails with minimal rest, while earning just a fraction of what tourists spend on their trek. In Peru, porters navigating the steep trails of the Andes face extreme weather and challenging terrain, often with no insurance or medical support. In Tanzania, mountain guides and porters shoulder heavy loads on Kilimanjaro for days at high altitude, risking injury without adequate protection or compensation.
The system that allows this isn’t accidental—it is rooted in history. Trekking as an international industry grew from colonial-era practices, where trails and landscapes were opened to outsiders for profit, and local communities were treated as labor sources rather than partners. Governments, eager to attract tourism revenue, often turned a blind eye to unsafe working conditions or exploitative wages. Agencies and expedition operators were incentivized to prioritize profit over human rights, and in many countries, legal protections for porters either didn’t exist or weren’t enforced. In short, the inequities we see today are inherited from a system that was designed to benefit outsiders while marginalizing local labor.
Even agencies that advertise “ethical” or “responsible” trekking operate within this system. While they may pay higher wages or provide better equipment on certain trips, systemic issues remain: workloads can still be extreme, oversight is inconsistent, and many porters remain invisible in the way tours are designed and marketed. Ethical claims from agencies often highlight isolated practices rather than addressing the root causes of inequity. This is why the question isn’t simply “Which agency should I book?” It is: “How does this trip support systemic change?”
Consider the typical story of a porter shared with us. He carries 35 kilograms up the steep sections of the mountain, often in freezing winds, for days at a time. He shares the trails with foreign tourists who marvel at the mountains but rarely see the strain on his shoulders, the blisters on his feet, or the hunger he sometimes endures when food runs short. Even when he works with agencies that offer “porter care guidelines,” he tells us that the broader system still favors profit over safety. His story isn’t unique—it reflects thousands of porters across Peru, Nepal, and Tanzania, whose labor underpins the industry yet remains undervalued and overlooked. Better treatment isn’t necessarily good enough if systemic exploitation persists.
Real change requires systemic reform. It requires legal frameworks that enforce fair wages, safety standards, and insurance; transparency from agencies about how porters are employed and compensated; and meaningful involvement of local communities in decision-making and tourism leadership. It means transforming an industry built on colonial, one-sided structures into one where equity and dignity are standard, not optional.
Tourists can help, but awareness is key. Instead of asking only, “Which agency is ethical?” consider asking: Are porters paid fairly and on time? Are workloads reasonable and safe? Are local communities involved in planning and benefiting from tourism? Ethical trekking isn’t about a single “good” company—it is about contributing to an industry that values the people who make these experiences possible.
By choosing to educate ourselves, demand transparency, and support systemic change, we can begin to dismantle the exploitative structures that have long defined trekking. When we do, treks are no longer just a journey through breathtaking landscapes—they become part of a movement to build an equitable system, one where porters, guides, and communities are recognized, respected, and empowered. Only by addressing the root causes can tourism evolve from a colonial-era relic into a model of fairness, collaboration, and dignity for all.