California Fighting to Ban Plastic Bags Statewide

California could make history come November, so you never have to take a bag to the face in the lineup again. And it's good for marine wildlife too! Photo: Surfrider

California could make history come November, so you never have to take a bag to the face in the lineup again. And it’s good for marine wildlife too! Photo: Surfrider

At 7-years-old, Zoe Florence could hardly see above the podium when she approached the microphone to speak her mind in the Huntington Beach City Council Chamber. During an August meeting in 2011, then-mayor, Joe Carchio, had yielded the floor to public comment. “I’ve lived in Huntington Beach my whole life,” said Zoe, “and first I want to thank you for thinking about what plastic bags are doing to our coast and our city.” She went on to talk about the merits of a city ordinance to ban single-use plastic bags in grocery stores and other retailers. Behind her stood two representatives from the local chapter of the Surfrider Foundation, and to her left, 13-year-old Aimee Borgmeyer, clad head-to-toe in a suit made entirely of plastic bags, an effort to demonstrate the environmental impact of the convenience aspect of convenience stores and grocers.

Zoe Florence (left), Aimee Borgmeyer (right), and two representatives from Surfrider's local chapter speak at an HB city council meeting in August, 2011. Photo: HBTV

Zoe Florence (left), Aimee Borgmeyer (right), and two representatives from Surfrider’s local chapter speak at an HB city council meeting in August, 2011. Photo: HBTV

After Zoe’s plea, it took the city (my hometown) two years to join countless other municipalities across the country in instituting a ban on single-use plastic bags. It was a win for environmentalism in an unlikely place.

It became a defining issue for Surf City. In 2012, Mayor Pro Tem Devin Dwyer became the first incumbent city councilman to lose a re-election race since 1996. He blamed his ‘yes’ vote on the ban for alienating his constituency.

In the 2014 city council race, candidate Mike Posey said in his official campaign statement, he would, “bring the plastic bag ban issue to the voters,” – one of two separate occasions Posey mentions the ban in his 242-word statement. Posey won a seat on the council, and took it upon himself to make it a centerpiece of his tenure.

The issue ultimately came to a head in 2015 when the city voted 6-1 to repeal the ordinance, the first municipality in the country to do so. Councilman Mike Posey was there, leading the charge, and according to the OC Register, it was the plastic bag issue that compelled him to run in the first place. “It was the most important issue to me,” Posey told the Register. “The ban has nothing to do with the environment. It has everything to do with a consumer’s freedom of choice.”

A handful of environmental groups, including the Surfrider Foundation, fundamentally disagreed, and levied a lawsuit against the city that is still pending.

Come November 8, disputes like these on the local level across California may be moot.

In 2014, while Posey was deciding to run for City Council, California Governor Jerry Brown was signing a statewide ban on single-use plastic bags. Political maneuvering, though, resulted in delayed implementation. Now, the measure will be put to vote this year.

According to some estimates, plastics may outnumber fish in our oceans by 2050. Continued production and use of plastic bags certainly isn't helping. Photo: Surfrider

According to some estimates, plastics may outnumber fish in our oceans by 2050. Continued production and use of plastic bags certainly isn’t helping. Photo: Surfrider

According to the Surfrider Foundation, large plastic corporations are seeking to misinform the public by injecting a similar line of thinking to that of Councilman Posey that bag bans, “[have] nothing to do with the environment,” or even that they’re bad environmental policy.

One such campaign, an initiative called Bag the Ban, is supported by a South Carolina company called NOVOLEX that’s one of the leading manufacturers of plastic bags in the country. They go so far as to say bans on plastic bags increase a community’s carbon footprint.

“Misguided bans and taxes on plastic bags could weigh down the economy, increase costs for consumers and small business, and leave a larger carbon footprint on the environment than alternatives,” says the campaign website. “Plus, plastic bags are 100 percent recyclable and reused by 90 percent of consumers.”

But these claims are unsubstantiated. On the other hand, numerous environmental impact studies have shown the negative effects of single-use plastic bags, and/or the positive effects of a ban. One such study, conducted by Aecom Technology Corp, found that plastic bags have a negative short and longterm impacts on marine ecosystems, solid waste management, global resource consumption and litter. Ironically, the 2011 economic impact report solicited by the city of Huntington Beach (again, the only city to repeal a plastic bag ban) highlights the positive environmental impact of a ban in detail. And the city of San Jose found a 76% reduction in creek and river litter, a 59% drop in park and roadside plastic bag litter, and a 69% reduction in plastic bag litter in storm drains following their plastic bag ban.

The kicker, of course, is plastic bag bans aren’t effective in reducing waste alone. That requires a shift in behavior on behalf of the consumer. According to a study conducted by the UK Environment Agency, reusable bags made from polyethylene need to be used four times, polypropylene 11 times, and cotton 131 times before they’re better for the environment than single-use plastic bags. In other words, consumers need to be trained to reuse grocery bags in order to have a positive impact. Yet it’s difficult to deny that a lack of availability of plastic bags and a charge for paper bags might force the issue vis-à-vis the wallet.

Environmental studies resoundingly show the potential of municipal bans, leaving plastic bag manufacturers backed into a proverbial corner. And what does one do when backed into a corner? Well, fight tooth and nail to survive, even if the methods to do so don’t make all that much sense. Case in point, an additional proposition that’s made its way onto the California ballot – Proposition 65.

Funded by plastic bag manufacturers, Prop 65 calls for setting up a fund that would collect all profits accrued from the tax and sale of paper bags in grocery stores that would ultimately be applied to environmental projects across the state. Some political analysts speculate this as an effort to divide environmental groups and grocery lobbies – both of which support the statewide ban.

California communities have made history on this issue. San Francisco was the first city in the country to institute a ban in 2007. Huntington Beach, the first city to repeal in 2015. Now, the entire state could make history as the first in the continental US to impose a ban statewide (Hawaii became the first in 2015, but unlike California it was done county by county). But with the millions already spent by plastic bag companies to dissuade the public from upholding the ban, its far from in the bag.

This article was originally published on The Inertia on October 12, 2016.

Why No Surfer On Tour Has A College Degree

No pro surfer has a college degree, nor will they probably ever.

No pro surfer on tour has a college degree. Is that a problem?

When Robert Frost wrote, “Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, and sorry I could not travel both,” he might as well have been talking about professional surfing and higher education. Of the 32 professional surfers on the men’s world tour, not one has attended a four-year university. The same is true for women.

Surfing at large has battled with negative characterizations – the slack jaw, stoner, hippie, nitwit kind – for decades. The Spicoli-cization of surfers in the eyes of non-surfers you might say. This kind of stereotype wasn’t born out of thin air. Indeed, for a long time surfing personified a subculture that rejected the school, work, pension reality of mainstream society. Intrinsic in that was a non-scholastic reputation.

But, in most developed countries over the last several decades there has been a trend toward higher education across the general population. College attendance rates are higher than ever before, and within the surfing subculture (that maybe is no longer even a sub-culture anyway), that same pattern rings true. Consider the proliferation of college surf teams, for instance.

But for professional surfing in particular, and the path to get there, the importance of education has remained particularly elusive. Probably because, well, aside from the fact that only a handful of colleges on this planet offer an adequate training ground for a surfer to mature as a competitor, it’d be really hard – especially in the United States – to do both simultaneously. Online classes may be the only way. But for traditional schooling that leaves two options: try to qualify for the world tour, then if all goes south, go to college; or go to college and take a four-year hiatus from making a run at qualifying, then chase points on the WQS. The former runs the risk of never going to college (one study found only 6% of students that take a year or more off will earn a bachelor’s degree by 26), and the latter runs the risk of being outpaced by the competition, and losing sponsorship deals that might minimize the cost of traveling the world to chase qualification dreams.

To put it differently, take your average 14-year-old ripper here in the U.S. At some point before this kid started competing, one grom gained an edge in the local contest scene by choosing to be home schooled  instead of attending mainstream public school, surfing two, or even three times a day. Maybe that kid even went on to achieve his professional surfing dreams without ever finishing high school. Other parents caught on and pulled their little prodigies from school too. In all likelihood, our 14-year-old friend is either leaning toward, or has already decided, that homeschool is the way to go, or has dropped out of high school altogether.

Surfing historian Matt Warshaw put it this way, “No doubt the planning and strategizing begins early, grade school maybe, and while you want to think that parents are steering their young pro tour hopeful to class, I suppose these days, more often than not, it comes down to ‘home schooling,’ which 98% means you’re not aiming at college, or just, I guess you’d say, a very relaxed idea about going to school at all.”

From then on, qualification becomes a young surfer’s raison d’être. Once the decision is made, few envision properly finishing high school, let alone attending college. And, of course, a select few make it on the dream tour, realizing their dreams, and that possibility motivates kids around the world – the slim shot that maybe they’re good enough.

But even surfers who’ve successfully made the jump to the World Championship Tour have expressed uneasiness about professional surfing’s relationship with education.

“My concern is with the amount of kids who choose, or feel the need to choose, to drop out of high school in order to chase their dream of becoming a pro surfer, and the number of parents that enable that decision,” says Ace Buchan. “I think the professional surf system has some questions to answer because the majority of kids who drop out of school to chase that dream end up 5 years down the track disillusioned, unfulfilled, uneducated, unsponsored and working out in the mines or waiting tables.”

But being a parent in this day and age is hard. Dino Andino is a former professional surfer himself, and the father of one kid (now adult) – Kolohe Andino – who made his world tour dreams a reality. When I spoke to him about what it’s like to come to the decision together to either pursue scholarship or surfing, Dino was candid. “You know I came from a broken home. And when it came to pro surfing, I was what you’d call a grinder,” he said. Dino would go to every event or photo shoot, and surf every contest. When Kolohe showed promise in surfing, he followed his father’s footsteps.

But Kolohe was good at school too, Dino said. He was in high achieving math classes. Ultimately surfing took over, and he never finished high school – something Dino expressed some regret over, looking back. “If there’s one thing I want people to know, it’s that all the small stuff doesn’t matter as much as you think it does in the moment,” he said.

When I asked him if he thought mandatory college attendance would be good for surfing, he had a point. “I’ve got buddies whose kids now have a shit ton of debt and no job, so I think it’s tough to speak on that.” He’s right. It’s a complex situation. College doesn’t necessarily equal a quality, paying job today. Not by a long shot. It’s a gamble, but almost certainly less so than surfing.

But if not a focus on college, maybe on high school. “Maybe there needs to be some sort of minimum standard education required to qualify for the tour of even the ‘QS,” says Ace.

Professional surfing is, obviously enough, very different from basketball, football, and even baseball. Surfing is a lifestyle, not a sport, you might say. It’s an individual, not a team. True. But on the college issue, they’re worthy of comparison for argument’s sake.

All leagues allow for an athlete to skip college altogether, but in the event that happens, the player is ineligible to be drafted into the league immediately after high school. In the NFL, the delay is four complete seasons. In other words, why not go to college and get a degree while you wait for eligibility to play? That explains why 50% of players have college degrees. In the NBA, the rule is a single year. Often players complete one year of college and skip out to play professional ball. That’s better than nothing. Baseball has the worst record of college graduates, as it doesn’t require any years of college per se, with 4.3% of players possessing a bachelor’s degree. Still, that’s better than surfing. Also consider that the NFL, NBA, and MLB all incorporate where the athlete attended school (even if it was just through high school) in the athlete’s bio online. The WSL does not. It, literally, cannot, because many would be left completely empty.

We asked the WSL what sort of infrastructure or support might exist for competitors hoping to pursue higher education. They declined to comment.

Of course, football, basketball, and even baseball are sports recognized by the NCAA. There is money to be made in sponsorship of college bowl games, and March Madness. College-level surfing doesn’t attract the same level of sponsorship, or even garner much hype whatsoever, because those surfing at the highest level avoid the Ivory Tower completely.

Professional surfing isn’t alone in this problem. Far from it. And college isn’t the end all be all, either. Plenty of men and women have become successful without a college education. But at the very least it’s a sad reality that surfing and college (and to a lesser extent mainstream high school) have to be mutually exclusive, and, as of now, a choice must be made. How many kids have lost that gamble? And is it really their fault? When you’re twelve years old and your sponsors are pumping you up about how great you are, is it all on you when you decide you’re going to effectively end the possibility of going to college to chase the glamor of the Dream Tour?

Ultimately, what it comes down to is what kind of sport we want surfing to be. Should the WSL require a high school diploma or GED? A year of college? Two? Four? Maybe that would push talent to colleges, giving surf teams more money through sponsorship deals. Hell, maybe then we’ll be watching live streams of college surf championships. But that requires change, and thoughtful reevaluation. First, professional surfing must recognize it has a problem. And that’s an issue that might require hitting the books.

Editor’s Note: The WSL acknowledged that no athlete on tour has attended a college or university but declined to comment on the topic of education’s place in professional surfing.

This article was originally published on The Inertia on August 3, 2016. 

Where Did the Word “Kook” Come From, Kook?

Kook of the day

Photo: @kook_of_the_day

“Off my wave, you fucking kook!” If you haven’t heard or said some variation of this, you’re either lying or don’t surf. The word “kook” is ubiquitous in surfing. So much so that the moment it becomes a part of your vocabulary is like dipping your head in the baptismal font of culture. You’re in the club. And with one word you can point out everyone who isn’t. The guy with his wetsuit on backward: kook. The chick with her leash on her front foot: kook. The tourist couple waxing the bottom of their boards: kooks.

But kookiness, let’s call it, is a social construct. What I mean is it’s not real. It’s imaginary. And it’s divisive for no good reason. We’re all kooks from time to time. And trying not to be all the time is, frankly, kind of exhausting.

The word, depending on who you ask, has been a part of surf culture since the 1940s—at least in the way we use it today. Tom Blake, famous for developing hollow surfboards in the 1930s and ‘40s, called his design a cigar box or kook box. But in this case, the kook usage doesn’t fit the modern definition of an “inexperienced surfer or someone in violation of the unwritten rules.”

Popularization of the word has a contested history. Matt Warshaw, the preeminent surf historian of our time and developer of the Encyclopedia of Surfing, along with contributor Jeff Divine, argue it derives from the Hawaiian word for shit, “kukae”. The story goes that Dorian “Doc” Paskowitz and his friends who surfed San Onofre in the ‘40s nicknamed a break in the cliffs where they’d relieve themselves Kukae Canyon.

They quickly began to say they needed to ‘take a kook.’ And from there, anything bad became “a kook,” including if you were a piss poor surfer.

Warshaw and Divine say explicitly in the kook entry that the word does not derive from “cuckoo,” as in crazy. It’s worth noting that in the 1950s and ’60s surfers would steal words or phrases from popular culture—particularly television and movies—and appropriate them in an ironic way. Though it didn’t last. “Cowabunga” is a perfect example. Originally spelled “Kowabunga”, this was Chief Thunderthud’s greeting on The Howdy Doody Show. He first appeared on the show in 1953, and the surf world later caught on most likely mocking the kids show as an element of pop culture.

Similarly, another popular TV show that ran from the late ’50s to the early ‘60s, 77 Sunset Strip, featured a recurring comic relief character: Edd “Kookie” Byrns. With surfing’s explosion in popularity around that time (Gidget came out in 1959), the hoards of would-be surfers descending on Malibu, its proximity to Hollywood, etc. it doesn’t seem too farfetched to think “kook” could derive from “kookie.” Who knows, maybe both Doc and friends’ use of the term and “kookie” in pop culture both played a part. The bottom line is unlike other words like cowabunga, kook is one that stuck and pervades to this day.

Our attraction to kook as a word isn’t unlike other insults in English. It has a four-letter monosyllabic musicality. Two harsh consonants with a vowel digraph in the middle (see other four letter words: fuck, shit, you get the picture). But unlike other insults, kook is uniquely rooted in surfing. Other groups have probably appropriated it by now, but its origins are clear.

Calling someone a kook in an effort to put them down, though, whether it’s to their face or among friends, is what Michel Foucault would likely call an act of othering. That is, pointing out someone as an “other” to distance themselves and the group they belong to from that person. It’s artificial and super demeaning. But since the explosion of surfing into the mainstream in the late ‘50s and early ‘60s surfing has become a brand and sold, paradoxically, to even the most landlocked corners of the country. Surfing has an allure, an association with tropical paradise, the beach, and the sun, and, since Gidget, has attracted new surfers in droves. It makes sense that core surfers would feel the need to assert themselves for having been surfing longer, doing it better, doing it the right way, and other nonsense (though there is a right way to put on a wetsuit). So the word to do so has prevailed, and spilled into other cultures.

But when it comes down to it, the essence of kook is uniquely us. We are all kooks, each and every one of us. Acting like it may be the only way to get rid of the seriousness of the oh-so not serious act of playing in the ocean.

Aloha, my fellow kook! Photo: @kook_of_the_day

Aloha, my fellow kook! Photo: @kook_of_the_day

This article was originally published on The Inertia on May 19, 2016.