Does Thomas Kohnstamm deserve an apology?

by Aaron Hotfelder on

In an interview posted late yesterday at World Hum, Lonely Planet author Thomas Kohnstamm explains how he’s unwittingly found himself at the center of an unexpected controversy.

The author, who was quoted by dozens of newspapers over the weekend admitting to all kinds of guidebook-writing malfeasance, says that the situation has been “blown way out of proportion.” In fact, Kohnstamm claims, he wasn’t guilty of anything besides accepting a few comps and doing a bit of hotel and restaurant research on the internet instead of in person.

Several days ago, before the World Hum interview, I wrote an oft-cited post calling Kohnstamm a fraud and expressing outrage at his behavior. Now that Kohnstamm has backtracked from his previous statements, does he deserve an apology?

Well, yes and no. Kohnstamm certainly was not guilty of all the charges leveled at him, and some of the criticism he received was unfair. He doesn’t appear to be a massive plagiarizer of the Jayson Blair ilk, and I’d wager he’s far from the devil he’s been made out to be, here and elsewhere. Also, it probably would have been prudent for me to contact him before writing the “fraud” post to see if he was quoted correctly, even though he doesn’t dispute that he was.

With all that said, it’s hard to muster much sympathy for Kohnstamm, since he was the one responsible for bringing up these charges in the first place. He repeatedly gave his interviewer the impression that he was a veritable “bad boy” of travel writing, saying, for example, of his agreement with Lonely Planet regarding the Colombia guidebook:

“They didn’t pay me enough to go (to) Colombia. I wrote the book in San Francisco. I got the information from a chick I was dating-an intern in the Colombian Consulate.”

Clearly, Kohnstamm’s implication is that he was supposed to visit Colombia, but the misers at Lonely Planet were too cheap to make it worthwhile. Turns out, as Justin reported yesterday, Kohnstamm and LP agreed that he wouldn’t visit Colombia, as he was responsible only for writing the history, environment, food and drink, and culture sections of the book. So why make that explicit to the interviewer? Easy: because that’s not interesting, and it doesn’t move books.

Now, Kohnstamm is calling his Colombia claim “regrettable” and “an unfortunate choice of words.” Hard to argue with that.

His situation now is a bit like that of the college guy on Spring Break who lies to his buddies, telling them that he cheated on his girlfriend with a gorgeous, blonde 19-year-old. When the news eventually makes it back to the girlfriend– as it always does– he’s in the unenviable position of having to explain that before he was lying, but now he’s telling the truth.

As for the claim that he accepted “comps” from hotels and restaurants, he says that’s true, but he tried to avoid doing it as much as possible. Frankly, I can’t work up much outrage over this, and I’d never condemn a guidebook author for taking a discount here and there– as long as they aren’t in exchange for positive reviews. Kohnstamm is right that these guys don’t get paid much, and hell, I’d probably take a discount or two myself. (Gadling credentials, anyone?)

All this doesn’t leave me feeling as if I have much to apologize for, I must say. Look back at my original post, and I’ll stand by what I wrote: Self-promotion? Entitlement? Decreasing the reputation of LP and its hard-working writers? As Elvis used to say, I’ll take all of the above with a side order of more.

But wait, does Kohnstamm even want an apology? Probably not. He just wants everybody to forget about this. But oh yeah, remember to buy his book.

Thoughts on the Lonely Planet scandal: Guidebooks are a sham

by Jeffrey White on

So, Lonely Planet writer Thomas Kohnstamm, ‘author’ of the guidebook giant’s Colombia title, turns out to be a fraud.

That’s one of the big stories today, as dutifully reported and followed by Gadling’s Aaron. Of course, the travel world has a right to be outraged by this, and that’s including the numerous LP writers out there who simply do what is expected of them and produce honest work.

But I have this question: Who really cares? Is there anyone out there who takes these guidebooks seriously? Who honestly feels his or her confidence in the racket that is the global guidebook industry has been irrevocably shaken? No one? Exactly: We were doubtful from the beginning.

The Kohnstamm revelation further cements in my mind — and I’m betting in a few of yours — the belief that guidebooks are by and large a sham. I know writers for LP, Time Out, Let’s Go, DP and a few others. While certainly I am not suggesting I have first hand knowledge that they are guilty of the kind of intellectual laziness and deceitfulness that should surely turn Thomas Kohnstamm’s name into a punchline, I know them to call in favors, farm out their work, barter, happily receive comps and overall travel in a way that is, well, rather less than incognito (I witnessed once a writer for a well-known guidebook series making a pitiful pitch over e-mail to get a free weekend at a new, five-star Central European hotel by throwing around his title’s name).

This brush is not meant to paint the entire industry and those who write for it. But I’m aiming at a wide enough canvass, those who want to somehow influence our reaction to a place through gross generalizations and trivial detail, while allowing us to fall back on information that somehow always seems to be not quite right – which, of course, the disclaimers more than prepare us for.

Aaron gives us some reasons why we should be outraged by the Kohnstamm affair. They’re thoughtful and well-presented. But we shouldn’t be outraged. And we shouldn’t be surprised.

Guidebooks are the CliffNotes of travel writing, nothing more than a hand-holding exercise. They’re good for a few names and a few addresses, some initial info, and maybe even the surprising fun fact (but you better verify it). Beyond that, they’re useless. They’re often wrong, more often skewed, and they seek to rob you of the only thing you have as a traveler: your impression. How the hell can you come to some conclusion about a place using one of these things? The guidebook views you as an idiot incapable of asking questions: You really can’t figure out how to find a restaurant wherever you are? Stick with it and you’ll be seeing what someone else thinks you should see rather than perhaps what you need to see.

For me to point out the number of times that a guidebook has been wrong would be to point out the well-known. I hope what the Kohnstamm affair really does is to get people thinking long and hard about relying on a guidebook for anything in the first place.

Lonely Planet writer admits he never visited country he wrote about

by Aaron Hotfelder on

Most people who have taken guidebooks on the road realize that they’re bound to contain a few inaccuracies. But did you ever consider that the guidebook’s author had never even been to the place he wrote about?

An Australian newspaper reported this weekend that a Lonely Planet guidebook writer named Thomas Kohnstamm has admitted to fabricating large parts of his books. The writer even copped to not having actually visited Colombia, a country he covered for the well-known guidebook publisher.

So how did Kohnstamm write the Colombia guidebook without visiting the country first? “I got the information from a chick I was dating– an intern at the Colombian consulate,” says Kohnstamm. “They didn’t pay me enough to go to Colombia. I wrote the book in San Francisco.”

Kohnstamm also confesses that he plagiarized large parts of the guidebooks, and accepted free meals and lodging on the road, a clear violation of LP policy.

The author covered a number of countries for Lonely Planet, including Brazil, Venezuela, Chile, the Caribbean, and Colombia. Well, maybe not Colombia. The big-wigs over at Lonely Planet say they’re scrutinizing everything Kohnstamm has written for them, but have not yet found any mistakes.

No mistakes? Hmm, that does sound fishy.

(Thanks, Neil!)

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More Gadling writers sound off on the Lonely Planet problem:

5 ways NOT to find a travel companion online

by Aaron Hotfelder on

Some people like to know that, when they land at their destination, there will be someone else there waiting for them. Thankfully, more than a few websites exist to increase your chances of finding a travel companion. If you look through the listings though, you’ll find that very few of them receive responses.

Here are a couple tips to ensure that your listing will likewise go unanswered.

1. Avoid the forums at Lonely Planet.

That huge faceless guidebook monolith called Lonely Planet is the reason that your favorite once-deserted beach is now crawling with grubby backpackers. Plus, their hotel information was outdated that one time, and they also sent you to a mediocre restaurant a couple years ago.

To get back at them, avoid the hundreds of people who browse their Travel Companions forum, and instead keep your “street cred” by using a more “indie” site with only a fraction of the traffic.

Also steer clear of Bootsnall’s Travel Buddies forum. With all the traffic there, it probably sucks too.

2. Compose your listing like it’s a personal ad.

Be sure to specify that you’re looking to travel with a member of the opposite sex only. And ask for a picture. You don’t want to end up traveling with some uggo, do you?

Guys, remember: anonymous travel forums are where most pretty girls go to find relationships. Don’t let this opportunity pass you by. Come up with a nickname that shows you’re a really cool guy– something like “JCrewTravelDude.” If possible, use a handsome font. Girls are impressed by this.

3. USE ALL CAPITALS. PEOPLE LOVE READING ALL CAPITALS.

WHEN YOU TYPE LIKE THIS, people notice. So go ahead, press that Caps Lock key and let ‘er rip. Not only do capital letters get people’s attention, they make you appear completely normal and not at all like some freak who stopped taking his medication.

4. Be incredibly vague about where you’re going and when.

Ads like “I’m up for anything, whenever,” are almost guaranteed to work just perfectly. Don’t list anything about where you’d like to go, or when you might be leaving. People will be falling all over each other to come up with your travel itinerary.

5. Indicate that, no matter what happens, the two of you will be spending all your time together.

Remember: the two of you are going to be a team, and teams stick together. Make it clear that under no circumstances will you two separate. You’re traveling companions for the whole trip, come hell or high water. This does not reek of desperation or newborn-baby-like dependence.

Follow these tips, and I guarantee you’ll end up just like that pathetic-looking loser in the photo above.

The Frankenguide: Make your own DIY guidebook

by Justin Glow on

Whenever I travel somewhere new, instead of dropping $30 on the newest Lonely Planet Wherever and lugging it around in my already-small pack, I’ll create what I call a “Frankenguide”: a mishmash, do-it-yourself collection of torn-out pages from an official guidebook, printed websites, Wikitravel guides, pages from history books, and anything else that might come in useful when I’m on the road. Bind it together with some staples or paper clips, toss it into a Zip-Lock bag, and off I go. It might not look pretty, but it gets the job done and is infinitely customizable. Here’s how you can make your own:

First start with the official guidebook. I usually go with Lonely Planet just because, but any guidebook will do — choose your favorite brand. But instead of buying a new one, I’ll opt for an older, dated model which costs a fraction of the price. The sections I pull out of the book for my Frankenguide are the timeless bits of information: historical backgrounds, landmark descriptions, stuff like that. All of the information that has an expiration date — hotel and hostel reviews, restaurant listings, and so on — stays in the Lonely Planet. Instead, I get this information from a variety of places that have less of a chance of being outdated. This means I don’t bring along Lonely Planet’s list of restaurants in San Francisco, for example, because I could easily hop on Yelp with my laptop (or the nearest Internet cafe) and figure it out as I go. Further, the guy working the newspaper stand is probably going to have a good idea of where to get the cheapest, best-tasting Dungeness crab in the area. Ask the locals.

Next I’ll go to WikiTravel and look up my destination. More often than not, there’s some extra information in the guide that I don’t really need. So instead of printing the entire thing and wasting countless sheets of paper, I’ll open up a new Word document (or whatever) and copy and paste the bits that I can use. This also allows me to format the text to suit my needs, and add pictures or maps as necessary. You can also load a book template into Word so that you can maximize the space used on each sheet of paper. Print in two columns, front and back, and fold the pages in half, book-style. Pound in a few staples, and you’ve got yourself a decent little home-made guidebook.

The rest depends on your trip, and only limited by your imagination. If your trip to San Francisco is centered around exploring the hippie culture in Haight-Ashbury, for instance, fire up Google and find articles, websites, landmark descriptions, maps, and other information that will guide you. This neighborhood guide from the Chronicle would be perfect to include, for example. Throw in some conversion charts and a list of common phrases if you’re traveling internationally.

Your final product should end up being much cheaper and lighter than a new guidebook. Further, it’ll be completely relevant, and void of any unnecessary information. Now have at it!

The image above is the remains of Lonely Planet: South India after I pillaged its pages. Click to enlarge.