Dark Tourism: Where history and mystery collide

It is one thing to go on holiday and marvel at the beauty of coral reefs, the architecture of Florence or the grandeur of ancient temples, but quite another to visit places laced with tragedy, death and suffering. Such is the nature of ‘dark tourism’. From ancient battlegrounds to disaster zones, these destinations are steeped in a haunting history that attracts travellers who seek a deeper understanding of humanity’s darkest moments.  

One of the most prominent examples of dark tourism today is Chernobyl, the site of a catastrophic nuclear disaster. On the 26th April 1986, an explosion at the Chernobyl Nuclear Power Plant released radioactive particles in the atmosphere, killing people and contaminating not just the surrounding area, but also affecting much of the northern hemisphere with fallout.  

My late grandfather was a Chernobyl liquidator, one of the thousands of civil and military personnel called upon to deal with the aftermath of the disaster.

A symbol of devastation for many visitors, Chernobyl represents the opportunity to stand in the shadow of one of the greatest man-made disasters in human history. The eerie silence of a city frozen in time provokes an emotional and psychological response unlike any other, its allure blending curiosity and a confrontation with mortality. But as nature reclaims the abandoned city, the ethical questions surrounding the dark tourism trend continue to grow: are we genuinely learning from these tragic sites, or are we commodifying suffering for curiosity’s sake? This fascination, is it a form of reflection- or simply a romanticisation? 

My late grandfather was a Chernobyl liquidator, one of the thousands of civil and military personnel called upon to deal with the aftermath of the disaster. From June to July of 1986, he was tasked with leading a small battalion in building 10km of the 30km exclusion zone that surrounds the radioactive area. He describes the arduous process in his memoirs, writing that the radioactive particles were constantly being transported by people, animals and weather, forcing the work process to halt every 24 hours for decontamination and re-measurement of the zone parameters. Amid this, they were also carrying out burials of anyone and anything that had been contaminated. By early July, he had moved to the examination of Pripyat, the abandoned nearby city, and while travelling on a personnel carrier, he remembers the radiation monitors reaching astronomical levels. Fifteen years later, the invisible scars of Chernobyl showed. In 2003, he underwent multiple surgeries for melanoma and other cancers, and until his death in 2021, the battle never stopped. Chernobyl was not just a moment in history – it left a permanent mark on those who lived through it. The effects of the disaster lingered long after, with people refusing to buy goods from what they believed were contaminated areas for years to come.  

The psychological appeal of a visit to Chernobyl stems from a deep-seated human fascination with death and destruction, and the consequences of human error. Tourists are drawn to the prospect of witnessing, firsthand, the aftermath of a disaster on an apocalyptic scale- a setting now more than ever dramatized by Hollywood, but far more unsettling when experienced in reality. Furthermore, what sets Chernobyl apart from other dark tourism destinations is the lingering, invisible danger of the remaining radiation. The deserted city of Pripyat with its empty streets and decaying buildings, evokes a haunting sense of isolation, marking it as an eerie monument to the fragility of life and civilisation.  

The boundaries between education, awareness, and spectacle can blur, leaving some to question whether dark tourism is an ethical form of travel.

Moreover, Chernobyl seems to fulfil tourists’ desire to connect with history on a personal level allowing visitors to visualise the magnitude of the disaster more profoundly than any documentary or history book could achieve. While some may experience a voyeuristic thrill, others are driven by a wish to pay respect to the past and undergo a moment of deep introspection. For these travellers, visiting Chernobyl is not an adventure; it is a means of connecting with the tragedy on an intimate, human level.  

While the psychological appeal is undeniable, the ethics surrounding dark tourism at such a site are complex and often controversial. A key concern is the exploitation of suffering for profit. The Chernobyl disaster caused an immense loss, from workers and emergency responders to the countless people displaced and affected by long-term health issues. Turning the site into a tourist attraction and an Instagrammable location risks trivialising the event, reducing it to a spectacle rather than honouring it as a place for reflection and remembrance.  The boundaries between education, awareness, and spectacle can blur, leaving some to question whether dark tourism is an ethical form of travel.  

Additionally, the impact of tourism on Chernobyl’s environment is a growing concern. Though tours are carefully controlled and conducted within strict safety parameters, the increase in foot traffic could disturb the delicate ecosystem that has developed in the exclusion zone. Wildlife has flourished in the absence of human interference, and the growing popularity of Chernobyl as a tourist destination could disrupt this rare and unique rewilding process.  

The commercialisation of the site has taken tasteless forms, from vandalism such as graffiti and love locks to companies merchandising souvenirs such as glow-in-the-dark radioactive animals. Worst still, are the fans of the show who re-enact scenes from TV shows in the plant’s control room, wearing technician costumes and turning the tragedy into a form of insensitive entertainment. It should be obvious that upon entering a zone of devastation, everything should be treated with respect.  

There have, however, been some positive outcomes to Chernobyl’s transformation into a tourist destination.  For one, it has revitalised interest in the history of the disaster, reminding the world of the long-term consequences of nuclear accidents. The HBO miniseries ‘Chernobyl’ brought renewed global attention to the site, spurring a new wave of intellectual tourism to the area; those who visit with the intention of learning about science and history, rather than merely seeking a thrill.  

Furthermore, local authorities have taken measures to improve infrastructure around the exclusion zone, emphasising responsible tourism. Local guides, many of whom were directly affected by the disaster, offer personal insights into the event and educate visitors on the ongoing challenges faced by survivors and the surrounding region. In this way, tourism provides financial support to the region and raises awareness of the disaster’s lasting legacy. 

Looking ahead, the future of dark tourism will likely depend on the balance between education and exploitation. There is potential for it to serve as a powerful education tool, reminding humanity of the mistakes of the past and fostering a greater sense of responsibility towards global challenges like nuclear safety and environmental sustainability.  

While currently closed for tourism, ultimately, sites like Chernobyl will always serve as a reminder of humanity’s capacity for both destruction and resilience, offering lessons that resonate far beyond the boundaries of the exclusion zone. Deterioration will only continue, and one day the site may be demolished forever. It’s a time capsule that is destined to become a legend and therefore should be used as a powerful tool for education and reflection but must forever and always be treated with respect.