Ru Breadon (she/they) is a surf coach and environmental activist. They grew up in Cornwall and graduated from the University of Edinburgh in Sustainable Development (MA), but you don’t need buckets of student debt to know that our planet is more than a bit fucked. They are currently doing a traineeship in regenerative farming and want to contribute to imagining how radical social change can be achieved through collective climate action.
On a drizzly day last November, I walked along a two lane road toward the City of London holding hands with strangers, listening to horns blaring and mentally preparing myself for the next 24 hours to be spent in a police cell. I focused on my breath and looked up at bare tree branches reaching toward grey skies. I was calm and grounded, marching alongside people from all walks of life acting to demand that the UK government stop licencing all new oil and gas. In the scheme of things, peacefully protesting in an attempt to ask for a habitable planet should not be a radical thing to do. However, under the new Police Sentencing act 2022, people taking climate action with groups like Just Stop Oil have been increasingly treated as dangerous ‘radicals’, their actions deemed illegal and punished with escalating severity. At the time of writing this, 26 brave people have been imprisoned for up to five years for the planning of and/or participation in various forms of non-violent protest. We are living in unprecedented times.
The climate science is crystal clear. The climate crisis is here now, and if a rapid transition away from the fossil fuel economy is not implemented through an international fossil fuel treaty, then we are looking at the mass displacement of billions, and deaths of millions due to increasingly frequent extreme weather, resource wars and mass crop failure. To be blunt, we are facing an absolute shit storm of social and ecological collapse. The end of life as we know it, caput. Everything is at stake, including our dreams of surfing til a ripe old age and having kids grow up with the ocean as a playground. Yeah, god, I know that reading this might make you want to go full ostritch mode, quit your job and surf your brains out in the Ments til the end is nigh. However, resigning to climate doomism by saying that it’s too late and nothing can be done, is just as false as to say that there’s no crises at all (@wawa_gatheru).
The word ‘radical’ gets slung about a lot. We all know ‘radical’ in old school surf slang expresses when someone surfs critically and innovatively, or when something is just really awesome! In politics, radical typically denotes when someone’s political stance is very different from the ‘norm’, whether that be far left or right. The word originated from the latin meaning of root and in its earliest form referred to both literal and figurative roots. Roots are the deepest reaching part of a plant and as such, ‘radical’ describes things that are the most fundamental or essential. In this sense, the notion of radical change represents a fundamental shift in the way things are done. However, mainstream media and politics increasingly use the term ‘radical’ to undermine people who challenge the current status quo as being too ‘extreme’ in their actions. As put by Mikaela Loach: it is not ‘radical’ to want to have a socio-economic system that isn’t reliant upon the exploitation of people and the demise of the planet. The true so-called ‘radicals’ are the small fraction of ultra rich who profit from big oil and corporate exploitation. It is also important to acknowledge that there have recently been positive shifts in the UK climate movement: no new oil and gas has recently become Governmental policy and the UK government has also dropped legal defenses for the development of the Rosebank oil field (@stopcambo). This is huge. But the future is nowhere near secure.
We all know that surfing can be a huge force for good: for people’s physical and mental health, for building community and most fundamentally, for restoring our connection with the natural world. These age-old elements surely draw us to the water time and time again. Given that we are faced with existential threat, we must be critical about our collective responsibility as surfers. What actions must be taken in order to create radical social change and a truly sustainable surf culture?
The First Wave archive explores the roots of UK surf culture through oral histories of people involved in the scene from the mid 20th century, through to present day. As pointed out by Sam Bleakley, back in the 60s and 70s, surfers were big environmentalists, with alot of cross pollination from the hippy peace movement. As such, early UK surfing was an anti-establishment counter culture which recognised human interdependence with the environment. However, through the later part of the 20th century ‘shortboard revolution’, there was a widening paradoxical split between surfing remaining true to its environmentalist roots and the increasing pressures of “corporate sponsorship.” The exact origins of ‘soul surfing’ are up for debate. However, the act of wave riding has existed for thousands of years, and originated somewhere in Polynesia. Here, surfing was a deeply spiritual practice, that was integral to ancient Polynesians’ entire way of being and understanding of human interconnection with both the land and sea. Participation transcended constraints of class and gender. This was to change with the arrival of European colonisers in the 1700s. “Native” practices, were seen to be at odds with a “good christian life”, resulting in the decimation of Polynesian cultural practices and the near loss of surfing. A potted history of colonialism bears stories of brutal domination and exploitation. It is a fucked irony that these low-lying island states are again facing decimation, this time due to climate-induced sea level rise. These historical legacies of colonialism run deep, and continue to influence how we relate to ourselves, other humans and our relationship with the ocean. A growing body of literature demonstrates how colonialism directly paved the way for the industrial revolution and subsequent development of modern capitalism which is the root of the current crises facing us.
Today, surfing is attached to a multi-million global industry, with big dog surf brands pedalling business-as-usual capitalism. Of course, the industry has made concerted efforts to act more sustainably, but has tended to perpetuate an individualistic mindset of: buy this expensive product or offset your frequent flying so YOU can be way more green! This puts the responsibility on consumers and does shit all to change the dominant political and economic systems that are the true culprits. Indeed, surfing has tended to distance itself from real political engagement. I completely get it: surfing offers a way to get out of your head and forget reality. Why confront the state of the world, when you can just marinate in the sea instead? Growing up, surfing was my escape. I began in 2009, soon after my parents signed me up to Porthtowan SLSC nippers to improve my ocean confidence. Little did they know, I would become absolutely hooked. I am unspeakably grateful for the support of my mum. I think in many ways surfing provided both of us a way of getting through hard times of family loss and grief. Throughout my teens I was nerdy, shy and struggled a lot with my mental health. However, when I was in the water, these struggles would drop away. This escapism is surely what keeps many of us surfing.
After graduating, I surf coached in Morocco. Once part of the hippy trail, the region has blown up as a destination for UK surfers to get some winter sun. Whilst working here, I had not fully processed the painful realities of the asymmetries of surf tourism. Many of the countries western surfers travel to are already bearing the brunt of climate change. As Fehinti Balogun explores in his digital performance “Can I Live?” we are locked into 2c warming and are currently on a blundering trajectory toward 3+c (UN Emissions Gap Report, 2024). Let’s be clear, this scenario translates to five year long extreme droughts in North African countries like Morocco, making these places uninhabitable within coming decades. The people who live in these countries have very little viable means of safely moving to places less impacted by climate breakdown. Those who hold the social privilege of having access to a ‘good’ passport and ‘strong’ western currencies can at present pass across borders, whilst people born into places that are not afforded these privileges, cannot. This is structural racism and classism in action, and as put by Balogun: it is climate genocide. This bleak reality is not directly the fault of you or I, but rather a it is a product of colonialism and capitalism for which the UK state bears much responsibility.
We must acknowledge the specific historical, political and economic processes which have determined who holds the social licence to surf. As pointed out by Lucy Small (@ saltwaterpilgrim): “surfing is political, whether we like it or not!” Whilst early UK surf culture was subversive and counter-cultural, it also paradoxically magnified social norms of gender roles, sexism and homophobia. It is no coincidence then, that the early days of UK surf culture were dominated by straight, white men. Growing up, surfing was still very much male dominated and was lacking any openly queer representation. At the time, I didnt quite have the words for this, but now it makes sense why I felt out of place. For the vast majority of people: working-class, women, people of colour and queer people: our current rights have been hard won through disruptive protest. Many brave people made sacrifices including mass imprisonment and death. They didn’t know if their actions for justice would work, but they acted regardless. A key thing I learnt during my degree, (besides mastering how to chug beer from wetsuit boots), is that social systems are complex, they do not function in linear ways. Often social change can feel impossible, but then rapidly materialises thanks to sustained efforts of people who already believed in, and acted for a better world.
It is heartening to reflect on how much British surf culture has transformed. When I was in college, I did a project on surf culture and spoke to Aggie legends Minnow Green and Sarah Bunt about changes in surfing since the 60s and 70’s. They highlighted that the sport had been revolutionised in terms of women feeling empowered to paddle out and improved accessibility to kit. However, developments in the sport were not without downsides, in terms of crowds, localism and the rise of international corporate control. Swings and roundabouts eh! Cut forward, and more people are speaking about their personal experiences and are working to improve surfing’s inclusivity. There are increasingly equal opportunies for women surfers, flourishing grassroots communities like Queer Surf Club, socially minded projects like Reclaim the Sea, and openly queer WSL athletes like Tyler Wright. It is largely thanks to broader social justice movements that marginalised people feel more welcomed in the line-up. So yeah, surfing is very much political. Now, as climate activists face increasing repression and criminalisation, we must reflect on the histories of mass protest that brought about our hard won rights and succesful social change.
Thinking about legacies of UK surfers taking environmental action, the mind jumps to Surfers against Sewage. In the First Wave archives, Sam Bleakley points to the formation of SAS in the ‘90s as being something that British surf culture should be proud of. As put by Johnny Manetta: “Chris was moaning about all the shit in the sea, and Vera Wilson said: “well don’t just sit there and bitch about it, what are we gonna do?” The formation of SAS by Aggie and Porthtowan surfers was activism to its core: to consciously act to try and improve society for the good of all. The work SAS does to tackle water pollution is vital, and over the following decades they have generated huge public engagement. I remember going to beach cleans as a kid and collecting heaps of plastic washed up at Lushingtons. However, in the decades since, the realities of the ecological and climate crises have only worsenened. I kept surfing, year on year growing increasingly concerned about the state of our planet. I went to uni and studied the roots of these crises. I attended many protests, signed petitions, voted, and engaged with local climate projects. And yet, I left uni still feeling powerless to affect meaningful change. With each passing year, global heat averages have been broken and planetary boundaries surpassed. Time is rapidly running out. It has only been in the past few years that I have began to feel the power of acting ways that are aligned with the realities of a world that is socially and ecologically just.
Once we are able acknowledge our social privilege as surfers, it is a moral responsibility to act for the wellbeing of all humans and our environment. In the words of Amazonian hero Chico Mendes: “environmentalism without class struggle is just gardening”. I feel this deeply. The current system requires most of us to work full time, just to have to pay crazy bills that line the pockets of the ultra rich who are responsible for destroying the planet. As ordinary people, we are not responsible for the crises at hand, that is partly why it feels so paralysing. However, if we want a habitable planet then the small handful of ultra-rich and political elite must be held to account. We must also continue to strive for social justice, build community networks of care, and expand local sustainable economies. Imaginative policy like the Green New Deal and degrowth economic modelling demonstrate that it is a realistic political option for all people to live equitably and contribute to essential public services like food growing and health work, whilst having way more free time for the fun stuff (like surfing)! What has limited radical systemic change such as this from happening is the severing of our innate interconnection with each other and the planet.
Reflecting on the historical roots of surfing, we need a huge cultural shift in how we relate to each other and our environment. As surfers, we need to stop viewing the ocean as a place solely for our recreational pleasure. Surfing has been a guiding force in my life, it has given me confidence, friendships, community, work and joy. Ultimately, I have learnt that it connects us with something bigger than ourselves. We need to rekindle a surf culture which places us as ocean custodians and collective citizens. It has been affirming to see the recent example of the surfers taking non-violent direct action in New South Wales as part Fight for the Bight campaign which successfully halted offshore oil drilling. This is part of the growing movement of collective climate action over in Aus with the Surfers for Climate campaign and Belinda Baggs new film working to engage surfers with climate activism. I am inspired by Irish surfers Easkey Britton who is campaigning against the on going genocide in Gaza, Fergal Smith who has swapped frequent international surf travel for regenerative farming and the Waterpeople podcast which platforms many stories of the interconnected fights for social and environmental justice. Here in the UK, it is time for a groundswell of climate action.
Regardless of people’s opinion about the tactics of Just Stop Oil, the sustained actions successfully broke through the inertia of mainstream media cycles and got the vital demand for no new fossil fuels onto the political agenda. Before Extinction Rebellion and Just Stop Oil started stepping up disruptive direct action, the idea that no new oil and gas could become Government policy was inconceivable.
As said by Areeba Hamid, a co-director of Greenpeace: democracy isn’t done every few years at the polls, it is a daily practice of holding those in power to account. Radical climate action is beyond essential. I am not suggesting that everyone has to take action to the point of arrest or imprisonment, although mass arrest is a proven way to affect political response. But, if you hold enough social privilege to have a roof over your head, and to have some spare time and money (which we do, because we have time to surf), then it is a moral responsibility to be actively involved in the climate movement. To stay true to surfing’s radical roots, is to advocate for social and ecological justice. We need a people-powered movement with a whole array of tactics and roles focused on real systemic and cultural change. To have any hope of surfing til a ripe old age, then nothing else truly matters.
