The French Spiderman Reflects on Free Soloing, Death, and Quantum Physics

Alain Robert is worried the world has forgotten what happened before the internet. This may seem a bit strange, since he has become a fixture of climbing’s corner of the internet, and might be the most Instagram-savvy 63-year-old that I can think of.

But before he learned how to make a reel, before he climbed the Citicorps skyscraper in Chicago, and before he was arrested some 170 times topping out on buildings, Robert rolled the dice on rock. In a series of voice memos and screenshots delivered over WhatsApp, Robert made this abundantly clear to me.

I had originally reached out to the French free soloist after a new biography about him came out with forewords by Alex Honnold and Alexander Huber. At the time, I was in the middle of his first memoir: With Bare Hands: The Story of the Human Spider (2008). The other reason I contacted Robert is that little has been written about him here at Climbing. Just a book excerpt and a news story, 17 years old. A rollicking profile by Climbing contributor Owen Clarke did emerge recently in Summit Journal. The profile touched on Robert’s pre-internet legacy—and left me with an unsettled image of him as a conspiracy theory-slinging, Champagne-guzzling “crazy guy.”

The biography of Robert released last winter paints a different picture. Published by Catherine Destiville’s press, Éditions du Mont-Blanc, Spider-Man, Alain Robert, Free and Unattached is only available in French (and in Europe). Robert sent me English versions of Honnold’s and Huber’s remarks.

“I’ve always felt a certain connection to Alain Robert,” Honnold wrote. “The style and difficulty of the routes that he has free soloed on rock is truly unmatched,” Honnold specifically cited his free solo of La Nuit du Lezard (5.13c/8a). “I have nothing but respect for all that Alain has accomplished in his nearly 50 years of climbing.” He goes on to reflect that while sometimes Robert leans into the spectacle and is “derided” as a stuntsman, his climbing skills remain “unmatched.”

After declaring free soloing as the purest form of climbing, Alexander Huber wrote: “Alain Robert is far more than just a crazy climber who stood atop of the most spectacular buildings. Beyond that he is a pioneer who opened a new level in the art of free soloing.”

As this book reflects on Robert’s legacy, we are also watching the discipline of free soloing enter a different realm—and not the one Huber speaks about. As the democratization of media unfolds on social platforms, free soloists like Robert have an even greater opportunity to attract an audience with their shock-factor, can’t-look-away feats of climbing unroped. We recently tackled this subject at Climbing with a story on Lincoln Knowles, another soloist who monetizes his ropeless exploits, but through crowdfunding. Depending on who you ask, there might be vast or nuanced differences between Robert’s and Knowles’s soloing “content” and its potential harms.

So, on the one hand, there is Robert’s eccentric persona, rooted in recklessness, spiced rum (a long-time sponsor), and a swaggering sense of style that includes red leather and cowboy boots that he occasionally uses as climbing shoes. On the other hand, there are his staggering accomplishments, many of which seem to have indeed fallen to the wayside in our collective memory.

Before he donned a Spiderman suit up a Paris tower or went viral on social media, Robert made the first and second free solo ascents of a 5.13d. (At the time, the hardest grade yet climbed was 5.14b.) Many of his free solos on rock remain unrepeated. And while his urban “escalations” are indeed spectacles, the technical skill underlying his prolific success cannot be understated, with estimated grades up to 5.12d, according to Honnold.

Could free soloing shirtless for a photographer in the Verdon and taking selfies while climbing a skyscraper in a neon bodysuit be more similar than we think? Maybe it simply boils down to optics.

After weeks of back and forth on WhatsApp, I finally spoke with Robert from his home in Bali on the eve of his 63rd birthday. I wanted to find out if he was the outlaw Clarke made him out to be, with no intentions of backing off. Or could he finally be ready to dial it back as a senior soloist—with seven grandchildren—fraught with disabilities resulting from several groundfalls?

A conversation with Alain Robert

This interview has been lightly edited for clarity and brevity. 

Climbing: What part of Bali do you live in?

Alain Robert: I am in Balangan, quite close to Ulu. Maybe in the future, I’ll live four months in France in Verdon and eight months in Bali. It’s a good combination. I can still do rock climbing on a daily basis. The thing is, sometimes I’m a little afraid about myself, because I know that if I live four months in Verdon, I’ll be climbing free solo four months in Verdon every day—every single day.

Climbing: So maybe it’s better for you to stay in Bali.

Robert: Well, I went through that—meaning from the end of the `80s all the way until the mid-`90s, I was free soloing hard grades on a daily basis. But that was a very interesting period of time because when you are free soloing, you are alone. There was no media, no internet, no GoPros. Once in a while, there was a professional photographer or TV station following me, but there wasn’t much and I loved it this way.

Climbing: It sounds like you miss those simpler days. When was the last time you climbed on rock?

Robert: Oh, that was two years ago. I had stopped rock climbing for 22 years and then I came back to Verdon to do some free soloing onsight. Of course, my level was totally different. But what was interesting is that at the end of the day, my spirit hasn’t changed. I love pushing the envelope. Once upon a time, I used to be a good and strong rock climber. Nowadays, I am really an old guy. I’ll be turning 63 tomorrow. I see the new generation—there is this little girl who did 8c a few days ago. She’s like 9 years old. I have been free soloing for 50 years and I have seen a tremendous evolution in climbing.

Climbing: Going back to your time in the Verdon, I find it a little paradoxical that your three major climbing accidents didn’t come from pushing your limits free soloing, but from gear errors and a slip while guiding. How did each of those accidents change your perspective on climbing?

Robert: It goes back to the very beginning, before I even started climbing. I was afraid of everything as a young boy. I was shy and lacking self-confidence. Then I had a dream. I wanted to become courageous like Zorro, like Robin Hood. One day I saw a movie called The Mountain about a plane that crashed near the top of Mount Blanc. Two mountaineering brothers climb the mountain to seek survivors. That really inspired me. I decided, wow, one day I hope that I will be like those guys, climbing mountains, climbing on rocks.

So I fought very hard with myself, with this little boy, afraid of falling, afraid of dying, afraid of everything. That’s the reason why when people ask me about a few accidents, I say it has never changed my love of and my motivation for climbing.

Climbing: You must have a really unshakeable headspace to have survived those accidents and continued free soloing.

Robert: The thing is, I have deep faith in myself. You cannot say, “Oh, I’m just going to train hard to get physically stronger.” It doesn’t work this way. This is what Alex [Honnold] was saying about Pol Pot [a 5.13a slab route that Roberts considers the hardest free solo he’s ever done].

Climbing: Soon after you free soloed Pol Pot in 1996, you began pivoting your career toward free soloing buildings. Do you keep track of how many buildings you’ve climbed?

Robert: I’m not really counting anymore. Maybe like 250? But actually, I don’t really care. I still have some plans to climb new buildings. All of the sudden there is a new generation who are climbing some easy buildings and medium buildings. But if you look at all the difficult buildings I have climbed, none have been repeated.

Climbing: Is there a building out there that’s calling to you that you still really want to climb?

Robert: No, no, no. I have had the chance to stay alive for quite a long time. I took enormous risks and now I’m cooling down. I’ll be back in Verdon in October because I am doing a biopic. In the past, I have done 18 documentary films. This time, it’s something a lot bigger about 50 years of climbing. A little bit in the spirit of Free Solo. We’re going to see it most likely in 2027.

Climbing: While there have been a lot of documentaries about you, you’ve also done an effective job of promoting your own ascents on social media. Are you managing your own social media accounts?

Robert: Yeah. I am doing it on my own. The problem is that I am the one who is responding to people and if you’re not a climber, then it’s difficult because most people don’t understand much. So if it starts to be a non-climber who is responding, it’s going to be really bad.

Climbing: You’ve had some very diverse sponsors over the years. For example, you recently did a climb in Barcelona for a cryptocurrency company.

Robert: That was actually the second time that I was sponsored by cryptocurrency. What they organized with me in Spain was really huge. They rented a rooftop 300 meters away from the building and there were 100 people working up there, although everything was completely illegal. That was insane because actually they were live. I am still sponsored by Dead Man Fingers, this spicy rum.

Climbing: You’re not sponsored by a Champagne company? It seems like you need a Champagne sponsor.

Robert: I could have gotten Champagne for free. But the problem is that since I live in Bali, they cannot ship it to Indonesia or otherwise I will be paying an enormous amount of taxes … and you have realized that I love Champagne.

Climbing: Well, yes. Owen’s story about you in Summit Journal emphasized that. But that [indicating the mug he is holding on camera] looks like coffee.

Robert: This morning, I am on coffee. But you know it’s like eight o’clock in the morning in Bali. So I cannot start on Champagne. But actually I’m not drinking every day. Sometimes people may think that I am an alcoholic. The last two days, I didn’t touch a drop of alcohol. On Sunday, if I go for brunch, I like to enjoy a good Champagne. There’s a big difference between being seated with Owen, who is cooking me about climbing in Paris as it is raining cats and dogs—then, of course, I’m going to drink a lot. But if I am alone, I am just drinking like one or two glasses and that’s it.

Climbing: I’m curious about your experiences in jail, where you’ve spent quite some time following your illegal “escalations” of buildings. What was the worst experience you’ve had in jail?

Robert: Maybe the last time I was in a jail that was bad was in the Philippines. I was injured; all of my fingers were destroyed, and also my feet. I was in a cell for six people, but we were 16 and there were cockroaches everywhere. Thousands. There is a light on 24 hours a day. And they are treating you like a shit.

It’s funny because when I was released, I was invited on a big live TV show and I met the mayor in Makati. She is the wife of a former vice president. We had lunch in a restaurant in Makati and I said on live TV that they could do a little better. It would be a small investment to get some clean cells like in Japan or South Korea. I have been jailed in San Francisco; there was a shower inside the cell—there was a TV. I have been jailed in China; it was not really good.

Climbing: Do you ever have dreams—or nightmares—about climbing buildings?

Robert: I’m dreaming very often about climbing on rocks or climbing on buildings. Sometimes falling. The good thing is that when you are dreaming and you are falling, the moment you are touching down, it wakes you up. Everybody is having this kind of dream. But I am a rather optimistic person. I’m not that afraid about dying actually. It’s just part of the process. We’re born, we die.

Climbing: What do you believe happens after you die?

Robert: For about two years, I have been very interested in quantum physics. There are thousands of studies by neurosurgeons on near death experiences from Yale, Oxford, Cambridge … they all come to the same conclusion: Our consciousness is not material. I am quite sure that we are energy, meaning our consciousness is not part of our brain. So when we die, our consciousness is still living. It’s just like entering into another room, another door, pushing a door.

Climbing: As you get older and continue to take risks, how have your thoughts on death evolved?

Robert: I would like to tell people not to be so afraid of dying. All our lives, we have been educated to fear death. I live here in Bali. And in the Balinese Hinduism, they are not afraid of dying. They believe that in death, the consciousness is not dying. They believe that they will be reincarnated as something else in their next life. People should be celebrating death. But if people are no longer afraid of death, then it’s going to become anarchy.

Climbing: When you die, what do you want people to remember you for?

Robert: I let them choose! What people may not realize is I did all the hard stuff on rocks or on buildings with a body that is completely destroyed. This is my hand. This is my wrist. [He holds up his visibly contorted wrist to the camera.] These are my fingers and these are my nerves. I also broke my ankles and everything.

[Editor’s note: Robert’s permanent disabilities result from three falls. The first two ground falls occurred in 1982 due to gear failures while rappelling. He also incurred serious injuries from a smaller ground fall caused by a slip while guiding in 1993.]

Climbing: Are you in pain all the time?

Robert: I have no pain actually. It’s more like two fingers, I cannot feel anymore because one of the nerves has been damaged in my elbow. When I am holding a pocket, if it’s very small, it’s a bit strange because I don’t feel it and the problem is that if you want to be sure that you’re holding it properly, you need to feel it. So I started to get used to it.

Climbing: Do you ever worry about popularizing free soloing and inspiring people who shouldn’t be climbing this way because they lack the necessary skill or mindset, and the consequences therein?

Robert: No, not really. If you look at the history, the people who are having the most accidents are those roof toppers. They don’t climb the side of the building—they use a fire exit, the lift, a big stick. So what has popularized this generation of roof toppers? The internet. Not me. I am fine with that, except this is not climbing. I am very sure that if tomorrow, there is no more internet, there is no more GoPro, there is no more of these people.

Climbing: What about you? If nobody was watching and there were no cameras rolling, no social media, would you still be free soloing?

Robert: I climbed for 20 years free soloing without nearly any media and I loved it and I’m still loving it this way.

Climbing: So, you would still climb buildings. You wouldn’t say, “Nobody’s watching. I’m going back to Verdon.”?

Robert: I love climbing buildings. As I said earlier, I am planning to live four months a year in Verdon. I’ll be climbing free solo every day. There most likely won’t be any images. There won’t be anything. It’s just because I love climbing.

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