The idea of dark tourism has been talked about more and more in recent years, probably in part thanks to shows like Dark Tourist and Chernobyl. Dark tourism is generally defined as travel to places associated with death, tragedy, suffering, or other difficult chapters of human history, often for the purposes of education, remembrance, or reflection.
When the term started floating around, I thought about whether I myself had been a dark tourist. And I realized that I definitely have.
When I traveled to Poland, I visited a few concentration camp sites, including Auschwitz. I’ve visited Ground Zero in New York City, and I’ve been to the Killing Fields in Cambodia.
At the time, I didn’t think of these visits as “dark tourism.” They just felt like opportunities to learn about history, better understand the events that took place there, and pay respect to the people whose lives were affected.
It was only later that I learned what dark tourism was, and that these travel experiences I’ve had fit into the broader category of dark tourism.
When I did learn about dark tourism, it made me pause. Not because I suddenly felt guilty for visiting Auschwitz or the Killing Fields, but because it got me thinking about why we visit sites of tragedy in the first place.
Is dark tourism inherently exploitative? Can visiting places connected to suffering be a meaningful act of education and remembrance? Where is the line between learning from history and consuming it?
Personally, I don’t think dark tourism is inherently good or bad. Like many forms of tourism, I think its impact depends on how it’s approached. The conversation definitely overlaps with broader ideas around responsible tourism.
So rather than asking whether dark tourism should exist, I think the more interesting question is how we engage with these places, and what responsibilities we carry as visitors.
Let’s dig in.
Dark Tourism: A Basic Definition
The term “dark tourism” was coined in 1996 by J. John Lennon and Malcolm Foley, two faculty members at Glasgow Caledonian University.
Today, the term is generally used to describe travel to places that are historically associated with death and tragedy. It’s also sometimes called black tourism, thanatourism or grief tourism.
In a 2017 paper, Lennon explained, “For many years humans have been attracted to sites and events that are associated with death, disaster, suffering, violence and killing.” And he emphasizes that dark tourism isn’t at all a new phenomenon:
“From ancient Rome and gladiatorial combat to attendance at public executions in London and other major cities of the world, death has held an appeal.”
Dark tourism sites are all associated with tragic history. They are sites of atrocities, accidents, genocide, natural disasters or infamous death.
It seems grim that people visit these places, but the reality is that these sites raise many of the same questions found in broader discussions about the pros and cons of tourism.
According to Lennon,
“Tourism and death enjoy a curious relationship. Death and acts of mass killing are a major deterrent for the development of certain destinations and yet such acts can become the primary purpose of visitation in others.”
I think that Chernobyl, the site of the world’s worst nuclear disaster, is a good example of the complicated questions that dark tourism raises.
After the disaster in 1986, the site was left almost entirely untouched.
But in 2002 tourists began showing interest, and then in 2019 it was announced that Chernobyl would become an official tourist attraction in Ukraine. Now, tourists can book official guided tours of the site.
Examples of Well-Known Dark Tourism Sites
When people hear the term “dark tourism,” they often think of something unusual or extreme. But many dark tourism sites are places that attract large numbers of visitors every year.
1. Auschwitz-Birkenau, Poland
Auschwitz-Birkenau was the largest Nazi concentration and extermination camp during the Holocaust.
Today, more than a million people visit the site each year to learn about the atrocities that took place there and to pay their respects to the victims.
For many visitors, it’s an important educational experience and a chance to reflect on one of history’s darkest chapters.
3. Choeung Ek Killing Fields, Cambodia
Located just outside Phnom Penh, the Choeung Ek Killing Fields are one of the most well-known sites connected to the Khmer Rouge regime. Thousands of people were executed here during the Cambodian genocide. Today, visitors can learn about this period of history through exhibits, survivor stories, and memorials dedicated to those who lost their lives.
4. Chernobyl, Ukraine
Following the 1986 nuclear disaster, the area around Chernobyl became one of the most famous dark tourism sites in the world. Before the war in Ukraine halted tourism to the area, visitors could take guided tours through the abandoned city of Pripyat and learn about the disaster, its causes, and its long-term impacts on people and the environment.
5. The War Remnants Museum, Vietnam
The War Remnants Museum is in Ho Chi Minh City. The museum presents the Vietnam War through photographs, artifacts, military equipment, and personal stories.
It’s a powerful and often emotional experience that encourages visitors to think about the human cost of war and its lasting impacts on Vietnamese communities.
The Nuances of Dark Tourism
People are drawn to dark tourism for many of the same reasons they’re drawn to history in general: they want to understand the past, learn from it, and make sense of events that shaped the world we live in today.
Visiting a place where history actually happened can make those events feel more real and personal than reading about them in a book.
For others, dark tourism is about remembrance. It can be a way to pay respects to those who suffered, connect with family or cultural history, and bear witness to stories that shouldn’t be forgotten.
I think one of the reasons dark tourism sometimes sparks debate is that not every dark tourism site looks the way we might imagine it will.
Take the Colosseum in Rome, for example. Today, it’s one of the most famous tourist attractions in the world. Millions of people visit every year to admire its architecture and learn about ancient Roman history.
But it’s also a place where gladiators fought, people were publicly executed, and prisoners were killed as a form of entertainment. By many definitions, the Colosseum could be considered a dark tourism site.
But most people don’t think of it that way. I certainly didn’t when I first visited. I remember being much more focused on the Colosseum as an incredible feat of engineering and a window into ancient Roman history than as a place where people suffered and died.
I think that part of the reason we acknowledge some sites as dark tourism more so than others could be related to time.
The events that took place at the Colosseum happened nearly 2,000 years ago. There are no living survivors, no grieving families, and no communities still directly experiencing the impacts of what happened there.
It could be that the long passage of time has changed how we view the site.
Compare that to places like Auschwitz, Ground Zero, or the Killing Fields in Cambodia. These sites are connected to tragedies that remain within living memory.
Survivors are still alive, families are still grieving, and the impacts continue to shape communities today. As a result, many visitors approach these sites with a different level of sensitivity and reflection.
This is one reason dark tourism can be so complicated. The term itself sounds provocative, and many people assume it refers only to controversial attractions, true crime tours, or places associated with serial killers.
But, most dark tourism sites are places where people go to learn about history, remember those who suffered, and better understand the events that shaped a community or country.
Most of human history includes war, disaster, conflict, and loss. It’s not surprising that some of the world’s most important historical sites are also places connected to tragedy.
I think that the question isn’t always whether a place “counts” as dark tourism. It should be more about how we choose to engage with difficult histories when we encounter them.
Is Dark Tourism Unethical?
I don’t think dark tourism is inherently unethical. That said, I understand why some people are uncomfortable with it.
Visiting places connected to death, violence, and tragedy can sometimes feel voyeuristic, especially when those experiences are packaged as entertainment or consumed without much thought for the people affected.
But dark tourism can also serve a really important purpose. At its best, it helps us learn about history, understand the impacts of human actions, and remember people whose stories might otherwise be forgotten. Visiting these sites can make historical events feel more real and personal than reading about them in a textbook ever could.
I felt this when I visited Auschwitz-Birkenau.
Auschwitz was the largest Nazi concentration and extermination camp during the Holocaust. Before visiting, I already knew a great deal about the Second World War.
I grew up hearing stories from my Dutch grandparents, studied the war in university, and had read books written by Holocaust survivors. Intellectually, I understood what Auschwitz was.
But standing there was different. Walking through the camp transformed something I had learned about into something tangible.
The scale of the site, the preserved buildings, and the personal stories shared throughout the museum made the reality of what happened there feel far more immediate and human.
This is why I think many dark tourism sites can be valuable.
Holocaust survivor Elie Wiesel once said, “For the dead and the living, we must bear witness.” That idea has stayed with me. Places like Auschwitz provide an opportunity not only to learn about history, but to bear witness to it.
For me, the ethics of dark tourism depend less on the site itself and more on how it is presented and how visitors engage with it. Sites that prioritize education, historical context, remembrance, and the voices of survivors can play an important role in preserving collective memory.
As visitors, I think we also have a responsibility. Approaching these places with curiosity, humility, and respect is very different from treating them as entertainment or a backdrop for content.
So, is dark tourism unethical? I don’t think so. But I do think it requires care. The goal shouldn’t be to consume tragedy. It should be to learn from it, remember it, and reflect on what it can teach us about the world today.
Ask Yourself: Whose Story Is Being Told?
When we visit a dark tourism site, we’re usually there to learn about history. But it’s worth remembering that history doesn’t tell itself.
Someone decides which stories are told, whose voices are included, what artifacts are displayed, and how visitors are expected to understand what happened. Because of that, it’s important to think critically about how a site’s history is being presented.
1. Who Gets to Tell the Story?
Every dark tourism site is interpreted through a particular lens.
For example, the Vietnam War might be presented differently in a museum in Vietnam than it would be in the United States. The same historical event can be experienced in very different ways depending on who is telling the story.
That doesn’t necessarily mean one version is right and another is wrong.
But it does mean that visitors should be aware that every museum, memorial, and historical site is making choices about how the past is presented.
Whenever possible, I think it’s worth asking: Whose perspective am I hearing? Are there voices missing from this story? Is there additional context or perspectives that I should seek out?
What Do Survivors and Descendants Think?
Many dark tourism sites are not ancient history. They are connected to events that survivors, descendants, and affected communities are still living with today.
In some cases, survivors and descendants have played a central role in preserving these sites.
They advocate for museums, memorials, educational programs, and public access because they want future generations to learn from what happened.
But that doesn’t mean everyone connected to a site will feel the same way.
Communities sometimes disagree about how a site should be presented, what stories should be emphasized, or even whether tourism should happen there at all.
That’s one reason it’s important to listen to local voices and seek out interpretations created by people who are closely connected to history.
When Does Education Become Commercialization?
I think that one of the most challenging questions surrounding dark tourism is what happens when places connected to tragedy become tourist attractions.
Museums need funding. Memorials need maintenance. Guides, educators, and preservation staff deserve to be paid for their work. Tourism can help support all of these things.
At the same time, there is a line where education can begin to feel like commercialization.
Most of us have probably encountered examples that feel uncomfortable: overly sensational marketing, gift shops selling questionable souvenirs, or social media content that seems more focused on generating views than encouraging understanding.
For me, the question isn’t whether money changes hands. It’s whether the site is helping visitors learn and reflect, or whether tragedy is being turned into entertainment.
The best dark tourism experiences I’ve had felt educational first and touristic second. They encouraged me to engage with difficult history instead of simply consuming it.
How to Engage with Dark Tourism Respectfully
From tourists taking smiling selfies at Auschwitz to influencers filming lighthearted TikToks at memorial sites, there have been plenty of examples of visitors behaving in ways that many people (including myself) would consider inappropriate at dark tourism sites.
That said, I don’t think these examples represent most visitors.
In my own experiences visiting dark tourism sites, I’ve found that the majority of people understand that they are entering spaces connected to real human suffering. I think that most people arrive with good intentions and a genuine desire to learn.
If you’re considering visiting a dark tourism site, here are a few things worth keeping in mind.
1. Consider Why You Want to Visit
Before you go, spend some time thinking about your reasons for visiting.
Are you hoping to better understand a historical event? Learn about a community’s experience? Pay your respects? Reflect on something you’ve studied or heard about?
There’s no single “right” reason to visit, but approaching the experience with curiosity, empathy, and a willingness to learn can help shape a more meaningful visit.
It’s also worth considering how the experience may affect you. Some dark tourism sites can be emotionally intense, especially if they involve genocide, war, disaster, or mass loss of life.
2. Learn About the Site Before You Arrive
One of the best ways to show respect is to arrive with some basic knowledge of the site’s history.
Reading an article, watching a documentary, or learning about the events beforehand can help you better understand what you’re seeing and why it matters. It also enables you to engage more deeply with the exhibits, memorials, and stories shared on site.
3. Treat the Site as a Place of Memory
Most dark tourism sites are more than tourist attractions. They are places of remembrance.
For some visitors, these sites may be connected to family history, personal loss, or community trauma. For others, they may function similarly to a memorial, cemetery, or place of reflection.
Approaching the space with that mindset can help guide your behaviour while you’re there.
4. Be Thoughtful About Photography
Photography isn’t always inappropriate at dark tourism sites. In fact, many museums and memorials allow and even encourage it.
The question is how the photographs are taken and shared.
Before taking a photo, ask yourself whether it helps document and interpret the experience, or whether it risks turning someone else’s suffering into content.
Avoid staged, celebratory, or sensationalized photos, particularly in spaces connected to mass death or ongoing grief.
When in doubt, follow the site’s rules, observe how others are engaging with the space, and follow best practices around responsible photography and videography.
5. Listen to Local Voices
Whenever possible, learn about the site through the people most closely connected to its history.
That might mean hiring a local guide, joining an educational tour, reading survivor accounts, visiting a museum, or engaging with interpretation created by the affected community.
I find that these perspectives tend to provide context and nuance that you can’t always find elsewhere.
6. Take Time to Reflect
Dark tourism isn’t always comfortable, and that’s often the point.
Rather than rushing to the next attraction, give yourself time to sit with what you’ve learned. Think about how the events connect to the present day and what lessons they might hold for the future.
Some of the most valuable parts of a visit happen after you’ve left the site. This is why I try to make sure the rest of my day isn’t booked up after I visit a dark tourism site. It feels better to just take the rest of the day slow.
7. Continue Learning After Your Visit
A visit to a dark tourism site shouldn’t be the end of the learning process.
Consider reading a book, listening to a podcast, watching a documentary, or supporting organizations connected to the site’s mission. Continuing to engage with the history helps ensure that the experience becomes more than just another stop on an itinerary.
Why Dark Tourism Matters
At the end of the day, I don’t think dark tourism is inherently bad.
Places like Auschwitz, Ground Zero, the Killing Fields, and the War Remnants Museum help preserve important stories and give us an opportunity to learn from history. They can help us better understand the people, events, and decisions that shaped the world we live in today.
I think that the key is how we approach them.
When we visit with curiosity, respect, and a willingness to learn, dark tourism can be a meaningful experience. It can challenge us, teach us, and remind us that history isn’t just something that happened in the past, it’s something that continues to shape the present.
For me, dark tourism isn’t about seeking out tragedy. It’s about understanding it.
If you enjoyed this blog, you’ll love my newsletter, as well as my Facebook group. You’re welcome to join these communities – would love to see you there!
