I recently participated in one of the numerous ‘No Kings’ demonstrations held nationwide. The following day, I engaged in surfing and genuinely found enjoyment.
However, as a Democrat, I subsequently pondered whether finding pleasure amidst difficult circumstances rendered me a poor individual. Is it ethically permissible to relish a world grappling with impending AI doomsday, environmental disaster, and social collapse?
Paradoxically, this was precisely the sort of query I believed learning to surf would help me circumvent. I’ve consistently felt a personal connection to current affairs. Given my past role writing speeches for President Barack Obama, one might assert that this inclination has benefited me both in my career and in my personal life.
Subsequently, during the pandemic, a confluence of worldwide crises escalated into an existential one. Spending a year predominantly on wine and PlayStation offered no relief. In 2022, nearing my 36th birthday and yearning to escape a deepening depressive state, I acquired my initial surfboard.
Since my knowledge of surfing largely stemmed from the Beach Boys, I presumed it would offer an escape from the anxiety that came with consuming news. Yet, surfing proved to be more intertwined with adversity than I had anticipated. Significant waves in one location frequently originate from misfortune elsewhere.
This observation holds particularly true on the Jersey Shore, where I learned the sport. Consider this single instance: On September 20, 2017, Hurricane Maria devastated Puerto Rico. The tempest claimed over 3,000 lives, crippled the island’s electricity network, and caused more than $90 billion in property destruction. Eleven days thereafter, a New Jersey-based news platform published a piece detailing Maria’s impact in the Garden State. The accompanying text partly stated, “Surfers capitalize on the excellent conditions.”
During my initial months in the ocean, I discovered an ingenious method to dismiss worries that a fractured world rendered enjoyment immoral: I simply experienced none. Amidst profound dread, physical depletion, and the relentless pounding and embarrassment from waves no larger than garden gnomes, I never had cause to fear enjoying myself too much. Yet, I persisted. The apprehension of being hurled onto a stone jetty or consumed by a great white shark, though disagreeable, was considerably more desirable than depression. Ultimately, to my astonishment, I began riding waves. Before long, I found myself grinning uncontrollably every time I dismounted my board.
My newfound pastime consequently placed me in a difficult dilemma. If I couldn’t derive pleasure from surfing—an activity so famously enjoyable that it’s been embraced by everyone from Michaelangelo (the ninja turtle, not the sculptor) to —then I’d be considered a spoilsport. However, I worried that the alternative, indulging fully without concern for a world in turmoil, would make me an accomplice. It was challenging not to consider my acquaintances still engaged in politics, tirelessly striving for noble causes. By dedicating so much time to such a trivial pursuit, was I not forsaking my wider obligation to the planet?
Occasionally, navigating waves intensified by climate change felt akin to fiddling while Rome was ablaze.
No solitary surfing session altered my perspective. Instead, it was a compilation of small instances, like diamonds gleaming so brilliantly they transformed my perception of the challenging aspects. The occasion I observed a group of ‘Jersey bros’ marveling at a dolphin. The time, during a journey to California, when an otter drifted beside me. The winter wave I anticipated would crush me into nothingness, but which instead propelled me, through a form of inverse gravity, from the base to the crest.
The greater my enjoyment in the ocean, the more fervently I felt about safeguarding our planet. It instilled in me an appreciation for how much still remains to be preserved. Approximately eight months after I began surfing, a client in speechwriting contacted me regarding an initiative concerning climate change. Although the task appeared engaging and significant, my initial inclination was to decline. I feared I couldn’t cope with such a large volume of disheartening data. However, significantly influenced by waves made more powerful by a warming planet, I decided to undertake it.
Regrettably, the project did not resolve climate change. Nevertheless, I am pleased that surfing contributed to shaping me into an individual prepared to make an effort.
Today, reflecting on the past period (2023) when I first took up surfing, I cannot help but feel unsophisticated. Climate issues are not the sole crisis significantly worse now than two years prior. The rule of law is . President Donald Trump is reportedly attempting to transform the military Americans. Malice towards the most susceptible appears to be . Sometimes when I read current news, I recall the dialogue from Casablanca where a young Bulgarian refugee depicts her native country: “The devil holds the people by the throat.”
Nevertheless, does anything improve by fixating on the direness of everything? At some point in my life, I absorbed the notion that I bore a duty to acknowledge as much disheartening information as feasible. I doubt I was alone in this. The impulse driving this tendency—to expand one’s sphere of awareness—was commendable. As Martin Luther King famously it, “We are all interconnected in an unavoidable web of shared existence, bound within a single fabric of identity.” Yet, when did our collective attire become so somber?
Joy, it is occasionally asserted nowadays, is . Perhaps. A particularly notable aspect of the ‘No Kings’ protests, participated in by millions of Americans, was precisely how joyful many participants appeared.
However, amusement is distinct. It is shallow. It is trivial. And it represents less an act of defiance than an affirmation that something remains worth contending for. This holds particularly true presently, as the world appears progressively under the control of who possess boundless riches, funds, and influence, yet seem incapable of showing a smile.
I remain no proponent of absolute escapism. While I would eagerly dedicate myself solely to surfing, it would feel too much like evading a responsibility. Yet, several years after acquiring a board, I have come to understand that cherishing life in a world fraught with sorrow does not render one an accomplice.
It renders you whole.
