Reading about weights of packs brings a wry smile to my face.
My mates used to smirk about the stuff I carried up the hills. My “what are you taking that for?” tent and bag was in great demand when we were caught out and had to overnight at 2,000 feet in a whiteout blizzard at the tail end of summer, and we had to take turns at the sleeping bag. Most miserable cold night I can remember.
Every year experienced* outdoor people die stupid deaths in the Scottish mountains, and for all I know the high ground in England wouldn’t be much different.
*experienced as in “the weather hasn’t killed us yet, so let’s take less gear”.