Fifty years ago, parishioners from Jim Jones’ Peoples Temple in San Francisco settled a rural commune in Guyana, only to see the Jonestown experiment end in one of the most tragic and bizarre murder-suicide incidents in American history. Now, as Guyana considers opening the overgrown compound to visitors, the debate about dark tourism raises important questions. Why do we find it appealing to visit sites associated with tragedy, and what does it say about us? Who gets to decide how history is presented, and what impact do visitors have on those who live near these spots?
There are many shades of dark tourism. Some, like visiting the Alamo in San Antonio, Texas, or Ground Zero in New York City, feel like a way to honor history and bear witness to past events. Others, like visiting a crime scene address or taking a morbid tour of a site associated with death, feel like a form of morbid gawking.
There are, however, more nuanced examples. Visiting Cambodia’s Killing Fields or former Nazi concentration camps is important to learn about atrocities and the impact they have on communities. These are places you should never forget, and visiting them honors the dead and their memory.
The line between honorable and insensitive tourism is not always clear-cut. Consider visiting the mansion where the Menendez brothers murdered their parents or the site of the 1969 Tate-LaBianca murders. While these places can be seen as morbid attractions, others, like Ford’s Theatre in Washington D.C. or the Sixth Floor Museum at Dealey Plaza in Dallas, are educational and serve a purpose.
In the end, it is up to each individual to consider the intention behind their visit and whether it is to learn and understand or simply scratch the itch of morbid curiosity. Will you be drawn to follow the nightmare of a story like Jonestown into the real world, or will you simply be fascinated by the notoriety of a tragic event?