The Stoke: Motivation, Addiction, and the Affective Experience of Surfers

In keeping with the week’s impromptu theme of addiction, this guest post was written by psychology and anthropology student Kelsi Nummerdor following her ethnographic and theoretical research as a participant in The Anthropology of Surfing, a three-week study abroad field course offered by the University of Georgia and taught in Costa Rica by anthropologist Dr. Pete Brosius. Kelsi explores the addictive quality of surfing, shedding light on a puzzling question - which came first: the surfer or the addict? Are we addicts because we are surfers, or are we surfers because we are addicts?

The Stoke: Motivation, Addiction,

 and the Affective Experience of Surfers

“Catch a wave and you’re sitting on top of the world”. These are the iconic words of the 1963 Beach Boys hit, Catch a Wave. This sentiment expresses, in a way, the focus of my ethnographic study of surfers along the Guanacaste coast. The affective experience of surfing, though limited significantly in narratability, is intensely sought after and highly regarded among surfers. The emotional states that occur while surfing are described and expressed in a variety of ways, but there is general agreement that the feeling of the “stoke”, as well as other psycho-emotional and physiological states produced by the physical act of surfing, are highly pleasurable and oftentimes semi-addictive. This cycle of intense affective experience, motivation to re-experience, and subsequent “addiction” is apparent among the lifestyle/soul-surfers I encountered in Guanacaste. Additionally, numerous portrayals of surfers in the media support the claim that surfing is semi-addictive, and that this addiction could possibly be explained by physiological and psychological states inherently catalyzed by the surf experience. Additionally, a multitude of social, environmental, and individual factors can actuate or reinforce motivation to surf. It is exigent to add that this process of “addiction” occurs among the presence of significant risks to physical and social well being (i.e., situations wherein decisions are made that elevate surfing above job or relationship security). Surfing is inherently risky and surfers choose to surf despite, perhaps even because of, these risks.

It must initially be addressed that describing the affective experience of surfing is oftentimes arduous, resulting in fragmentary and largely incomplete data. This is due in large part to the inherent limits of narratability that surround surfing; the surfing experience was termed “indescribable” by many interviewees. The embodied nature of surfing in conjunction with low levels of explicit knowledge and relatively high levels of tacit knowledge help explain these limits: one cannot state exactly how it feels to experience surfing because many aspects of the activity are largely unconscious and acquired through repetitious bodily training. The partially tacit nature of surf knowledge should not suggest simplicity, however. Although decision-making while in the core flow state of surfing seems to be largely unconscious, a highly complex decision making process is still able to occur (Butts, ND). I believe that the process of embodied action in conjunction with the highly unique flow state experience contribute to the addictiveness of surfing. I am willing to postulate that embodiment in the “flow” is highly psychologically pleasurable, and therefore semi-addictive in its own right. I will address this, categorized as a state of intense focus, in subsequent paragraphs.

The aforementioned limits of narratability occur quite quickly when discussing surfing, and make significant understanding of the activity by non-participants nearly impossible. Butts addresses the importance of participant-observation in his article Good to the Last Drop: Understanding Surfers’ Motivation. Personal anecdotal experience supports Butts statement. I was able to explore the act of surfing over the course of three weeks, and believe it has allowed me to push these limits of narratability significantly farther than observation as a non-participant.

Addiction can be described in a variety of ways, and my use of the term here is loose and context-specific. I have chosen to organize my findings around the following working definition of addiction: “the condition of being habitually or compulsively occupied with or involved in something”. This definition is broad enough to allow behavior, even cognition, to constitute addiction. The lack of explicit reference to substance allows significantly greater freedom in conceptualizing behaviors, even lifestyle choices, as addictions. Additionally, the term occupied allows one to conceive of many instances of occupation. Cognition, discussion, media consumption, and actual performance of an activity may all be categorized as occupation. Psychological and medical literature on addiction is very broad, and I will not describe in detail specific mechanisms of addiction. I will, however, posit that I believe surfing creates a pleasurable physiological response that promotes addiction. Action-specific neurotransmitters (i.e., adrenaline and dopamine) are likely released while surfing. These neurotransmitters catalyze feelings of excitement and pleasure that motivate surfers to repeatedly pursue peak experiences. Conversely, Butts postulates that the nearly constant emotional flux between tension and calm (e.g., the roughness of the inside relative to the serenity of the line-up) functions as a mechanism of physiological optimization of performance in the water. This state of oscillating emotional arousal, Butts suggests, could help us understand the addictive nature of surfing. In chapter four of Surfing and Social Theory, Ford posits a slightly different mechanism: mimetic theory. This theory describes mimetic activities as those that simulate emotions present in riskier, more violent times of human presence. These activities are therefore primordially satisfying. Surfing could prove to be a mimetic activity and therefore a catalyst of intense fight-or-flight-esque emotions. The intensity and rarity of these experiences could also help explain their addictive properties.

Ethnographically, addiction presents in a multitude of ways. The jargon of addiction is often employed by surfers to describe how they experience the desire to surf, or to describe the initial process of becoming “hooked” on the sport. I encountered the phrase “I got the itch [to surf]” multiple times from various sources. One individual, the owner of a tattoo shop, revealed that if the waves are good, he will close the shop in the middle of the day to go surf. This is an example of socially and economically risky behavior that is employed to allow the surfer to get his “fix”. Another individual expressed explicitly that he is “addicted to adrenaline, fear, and pain…surfing is a love, a passion, an addiction, an obsession, a way of life. It shapes your decisions”. Another surfer expressed a feeling of exhaustion after surfing that made him want to do nothing for the rest of the day. This exhaustion is an interesting parallel to the feeling of satiation an addict receives after receiving one’s “fix”. Similarly, one surfer remarked that he did not surf competitively because surfing “gave him enough”. The centrality of surfing in lifestyle fulfills the habitual requirement of my working definition of addiction.

There are many additional aspects of surfing that could contribute to its semi-addictive nature. Most obvious is the physiological and emotional rush one receives when riding a wave. This is what surfers call the “stoke”. The transitory nature of this feeling promotes the search for the next good wave, the next “high”. I experienced multiple times the “one more wave” phenomenon, wherein I decided to end my surfing session for the day, but stayed out for as much as 45 minutes longer because I was searching for the next “great wave”. In psychological terms, this could be conceptualized as variable-interval reinforcement within Skinner’s ‘Schedules of Reinforcement’ within the larger construct of operant conditioning. In this schedule of reinforcement, participants are uninformed as to when reward will be received; like gambling, one waits in a constant state of anticipation for positive reinforcement. In both surfing and other activities, anticipation, subsequent arousal, and eventual reward catalyze the creation of addiction and reinforce established addiction. Additionally, feeling capable, strong, and like you are “riding the energy of the wave” are all also positive behavioral reinforcements. The pleasure of spontaneity, a can-do autonomy, and control over behavior (perhaps magnified by the opposing nature of the out-of-control ocean) also reinforce motivation to surf (Ford 2006).

Social reinforcement and motivation also exist. Being part of the surf community can be highly socially satisfying and consequently promote increased surf behaviors. The embodied nature of surfing greatly heightens this group dynamic of ‘us’ versus ‘them’. As one surfer said, “you have to experience it [surfing] to understand it”. This group dynamic also allows members to sustain a feeling of “antipathy towards bureaucracy and formal organizations” (Ford 2006). The ability to drop out, live in the present (similar fundamentally, I believe, to the flow experience of embodiment), and choose “freedom” are also motivational for surfers (Ford 2006). One can “escape, relocate, and travel” in the name of surfing (Comer 2010). Ethnographically speaking, the character of Kahuna in Gidget exemplifies the life of a surfer bum who “drops out” of society to pursue surfing and “live the dream”.  Similarly, the surf community, through the creation and sustainment of community, social reinforcements, enculturation practices, and multi-media sources of information dissemination, are able to create their own world with unique standards of etiquette (line-up etiquette), skill appraisal, and conceptions of space. This unique space suited to the desires, needs, and preferences of surfers motivates surfers to continue surf behaviors and perpetuate surf society. In other words, a positive feedback loop exists such that the more surf culture grows, the more it reinforces its own growth.

The ocean environment also seems to be motivational for many surfers. Surfing and Social Theory posits that the centrality of a personal relationship with the ocean is fundamental to the sport. Interesting, this hypothesis presents ethnographically. One surfer stated that, “[while surfing] it’s just you and the waves”. Others remarked that the “environment is great” and that “respect for the ocean” is crucial. The serenity of the line-up, the humbling experience of being among dangerous wildlife, and the feeling of incredible smallness that occurs when floating in the ocean make me believe wholeheartedly that the powerful, aquatic environment is in itself reinforcing because of its uniqueness and extremity. In few other places, as one surfer remarked, is the environment constantly changing. Drowning, shark attacks, and other serious injuries also occur amongst the waves. These risks likely heighten the arousal state and make the feeling of success, or “dominating a wave”, more deeply fulfilling. So it does indeed seem that certain individuals may surf because of risks inherent to surfing, and not in spite of them. This postulate is supported by the seemingly large number of surfers who also take part in other extreme sports like skateboarding, snowboarding, or jumping motorbikes.

Ethnographic study illuminates explicitly describable motivation for certain surfers. I received a variety of responses when asking why individuals surf. There were common themes, however. Surfing was referred to by several participants as a “focus point” or “100% focus, like meditation; a zen moment”. This intensity of focus, I believe, corresponds to the core flow experience of surfing, the peak of the embodiment phase, wherein decisions are made unconsciously and incredibly quickly. I believe this could catalyze another theme I witnessed: the experience of “leaving” your problems in the water. I was told: “if you have problems, you forget them in the water”, surfing is an “escape”, surfing “gives you a fresh start”, “you go into the water with a full chalkboard…it [surfing] clears your chalkboard”.  Butts also remarked that surfing “clears the mind and cleanses the spirit.” Similarly, surfing and the relationship with the ocean is seen as fundamentally religious by some. “Mother Ocean” was referenced by one interviewee, and merchandise stating “surfing is my religion” can be seen in surf communities like Guanacaste. Additionally, certain surfers reserve specific rituals for new surf boards or pre-ride physical preparations.

Among other things, surfing can “teach you discipline”, keep you “physically fit”, and sustain a “life philosophy”. One surfer, when asked what surfing does for him, remarked emphatically “What doesn’t it do for me?” and began to list a wide range of benefits and ideologies that surfing supplies him. Surfing, for many, is fulfilling, addictive, motivating, and enjoyable. Surfers often surf for life, and mindfully construct their lives in order to most effectively fulfill their “fix”. In closing, many people reflected that surfing simply feels good. Gidget herself expressed elatedly and repeatedly that surfing is “the ultimate!”

Future research on surfing could begin to illuminate answers to significant questions regarding narratability of flow states, obsessive or risk-taking behavior among surfers, and (if they are present) individual differences between people who get hooked on surfing and those who do not. It would be beneficial for addiction studies in general, I believe, to understand what factors influence the development of individual addiction. No amount of research will answer completely or satisfactorily what surfing means to every surfer; too much emotional and experiential variation undoubtedly exists. However, beginning to understand the motivations, experiences, perceptions, addictions, lifestyle choices, and health benefits of surfers will be both generative and beneficial for a variety of multifaceted disciplines. I am glad I had to opportunity to experience surfing, and to begin what I hope will be a journey into the inner workings of surfing. Right now, above all else, I would really like to go catch a wave.

  

Works Cited

Butts, Steven.  ND.  “Good to the last drop: Understanding surfer’s motivations.”  Sociology of Sport Online 4(1):

Comer, K.  2010.  “Californians in Diaspora: The making of a local/global subculture.”  Chap. 1, Surfer Girls in the New World Order.  Durham: Duke University Press.

Ford, N. & D. Brown.  “Surfing as subculture and lifestyle.” 2006.  Chap. 4, Surfing and Social Theory: Experience, Embodiment and Narrative of the Dream Glide. London: Routledge.

Henderson, M.  2001.  “A shifting line up: Men, women, and Tracks surfing magazine.”  Continuum: Journal of Media & Cultural Studies 15(3):319-332.

coastal development & anthropology of surfing: university field course in Costa Rica

teamed up with Dr. Bro, expert environmental anthropologist-slash-formidably mustached lifelong surfer, we took on a crew of fifteen of UGA’s brightest minds, the kids they pay to stay in-state instead of going Ivy League, offering them the chance to explore Costa Rica’s Guanacaste coastline, learning to surf and studying the relationships between surfing, tourism and development in one of the world’s leading surf tourism destinations. the following are highlights from the course.

1. Marco, Jose and Choco keep it real

after pulling a few teeth, the guys at Choco’s Surf School finally agreed to sit with us on the beach and share about their experiences as surfers growing up in the now bustling tourist town of Samara. they told stories of having to hide their boards on the beach so dad wouldn’t take them away as punishment for not going to class; the days when it was nearly impossible to get a board so they’d take turns on the ones that gringos and family members had gifted them; and how they would never trade surfing for anything on earth. Marco and Jose agreed that Choco‘s classic surf style was the best, with all the kids in town trying to copy his moves – after all, now in his 40’s, he’s one of the original cats from the pioneering generation of Costa Rican surfing. and he kills it on longboard in the national surf circuit.

they reminisced about the old days before tourists starting showing up in Samara, expressing nostalgia for the past, yet acknowledging how tourism had provided them with a legitimate livelihood as the foremost surf school in town. their way of giving back to the community is through using profits to support local kids in surfing and helping keep the beach clean. and they agreed that the only way to protect Samara from ‘becoming another Tamarindo’ is for the community to be organized against foreign interests and the easily-bought municipal government. through his high-fashion mirrored sunglasses – so hot right now -- Marco shared a funny story about how the municipality had sold the soccer field in town to a foreign resort developer, but since his grandfather had gifted that piece of land to the community, they had to battle with the government to revoke the property title already given to the gringo. in the end, they were successful and the soccer field is still a soccer field, an important cultural landmark in Samara and local mainstay in any Costa Rican town.

gracias chicos, por vivir la pura vida y por compartirla con nosotros. nos vemos en mayo!  

2. turtle world wars

it’s no doubt off-putting when you first hear about a coastal community whose livelihood relies on its national monopoly over the legal distribution of Olive Ridley turtle eggs sold at farmers’ markets throughout Costa Rica. but after we visited the Asociacion de Desarrollo Integral de Ostional (ADIO), watched their informative documentary on a flat screen set up in the Community Director’s backyard (talk about field study!) and had a chance to ask a ton of clarifying questions (all the while drooling over the nonstop perfect barrels on the beach behind us), that creepy feeling about shady dealings in turtle eggs subsided as we gained a clear understanding of ADIO’s work in turtle conservation. for the past thirty years, they’ve teamed up with biologists to protect a 7km stretch of coastline from animal predators and illegal turtle egg poaching, utilizing 900 meters of those 7km for the collection of turtle eggs once every month over the course of three days. the entire community gets involved in the collection process, recognizing that conservation ensures their livelihood, creating a “symbiotic relationship between the turtles and the community,” as Gilbert Rojas explained to us on his back patio. “we help the turtles and the turtles help us.” lead biologist Rodrigo Morera assured us that the eggs extracted from the shoreline represent less than 1 per cent of the total eggs laid each year, and that this past year, nearly half-a-million adult female Olive Ridleys shored themselves to lay their eggs, the highest number recorded in the history of the arribada, the three-day period when the turtles take over the beach every month to lay eggs: an indisputable success story in turtle conservation.

while no one is getting rich from the sale of the turtle eggs, there are tangible benefits incentivizing community involvement and support for the project. each month, community members are entitled to their share of turtle eggs for household consumption, plus a small salary paid equally to everyone involved in the project – the Director receives the same number of eggs and the same pay as the egg collectors, and leftover funds support community projects and social services. With the profits from the sale of the eggs, Ostional now has a community center and functional medical clinic, and members receive health benefits, paid maternity leave and cash incentives for kids to stay in school. where the municipal government may still be unable to provide for the townspeople, ADIO has filled important gaps for social wellbeing: community-driven development in action.  

Despite criticism from other foreign and government-subsidized turtle conservation projects who hate on ADIO for profiting off turtle eggs, it’s clear that their initiatives are serving mutual benefit for both turtle and human, undoubtedly inspiring sustainable development practices across the globe, and it is indeed at least partially because of the profit motive that their conservation efforts have been so successful. And when haters like the foreign scientists at the Leatherback turtle reserve of the Parque Nacional Marino Las Baulas, whose nearly 25 year government-funded project to save the Leatherback turtles has been nothing short of a failure (read: current adult female leatherback population diminishing rapidly, down to below 20 total, despite – or potentially as a result of – conservation efforts), the proof is in the (egg?) pudding.

more haters in their midst: ADIO faces real threats outside the turtle nerd world, and we were shocked to learn that Gilbert and his wife narrowly escaped death last year when their house was burnt down in the middle of the night while they were sleeping inside. “they destroyed our transport vehicle, too,” he confided in me as we said goodbye. i asked him if he knew who it was; he raised his brow and looked up at me – of course he knew who it was. “the government?” i questioned, aware of local corruption by means of vigilante injustice. “yeah, in cahoots with the poachers. they’d rather we didn’t exist here.” speechless, i gave him a hug in solidarity, promising we’d be back in May to keep supporting the project.  

i waited to tell the students until we got back on the bus; we learned firsthand it’s not all pura vida when you’re dealing in turtles.

3. changing perspectives

one of the students, admittedly outside his comfort zone, shares with the group that the course and activities have expanded his horizons, provoking him to think about things he otherwise wouldn’t, particularly tourism and development’s impact on local communities and cultures. “i’m not one of those guys you can easily make feel guilty about something i didn’t do,” he said in slow southern. “i’m not gonna feel bad for the Holocaust just because i’m German, but i will admit that coming here and talking to people has changed the way i think about a few things, especially about our role as tourists in developing countries.” knowing that he is one of our most conservative students on the course, this was a sweetly satisfying victory indeed. because that’s all we want, really, and the foundation for why we do what we do: sharing realities to open horizons and potentially shift thought patterns and ways of being toward greater sustainability and social harmony. i’m sure i was grinning like an idiot.

another validating verbatim testimonial: “although i was vaguely aware of some of the issues we talked about, the trip brought them to the forefront of my mind. even though it was such a short trip, i feel like i have a much broader perspective on things--ecotourism, market economics, community activism, foreign vs. local ownership and investment, etc. i loved learning how to surf, and i definitely plan continuing to learn sometime in the future. what resonated most personally with me was when we talked to Javier in the dessert shop near Playa Negra. he talked about living a simpler life and being more fulfilled not in spite of but rather because of it. he was always smiling and seemed to just radiate positive energy. he looked so youthful and happy that i was genuinely shocked when he said he was about to turn 43. i'm glad i was sitting on that side of the table and was able to have a more in depth conversation with him, because it definitely made me rethink the way I live my life.”  he’s right, too, Javier is rad, and embodies so much of what the surfer lifestyle is all about – finding your happiness in nature and the simple things in life, being open to every adventure, and living your dreams one wave at a time.

4. challenging climate change solutions

“but what if i don’t want to compost or make biodiesel in my backyard or do all the things i’m supposed to do to save the planet? what if I’m just not willing to do that?” this honest question -- posed to professor, biodiesel guru and environmental news blogger, Ryan King, whose talk on Safari Surf School’s new biofuel project in Playa Guiones sparked controversy when it digressed into theories of global change science and the destruction of energy infrastructure as green anarchy’s valiant means of protest -- brought existing tensions to light as students reflected on their own roles in climate change and what they could possibly do about it. in a world preaching ‘be the change you wish you to see’, it takes courage to admit you’re not willing to act locally while thinking globally, reminding the environmental movement that it’s still quite an uphill battle, perhaps requiring adjustments in rhetoric and strategy to appeal to those who, quite frankly, might not be rolling up their sleeves and starting the next community garden. we hope they get on board, and they very well might, most likely out of necessity rather than inspired motivation to the save the world; but when these kinds of challenges emerge, we need compassion and real answers, not defensive quips that further alienate those questioning our solutions. how else will we move from preaching to the choir to actually achieving our critical mass?

(un)coincidentally, on the last day of the course, another student’s shirt had written on it in bold block letters: ‘if you’re not part of the solution, you’re part of the problem’. i smiled at the perfect irony and felt en eerie sense of closure as i watched those words bounce through the security checkpoint before disappearing into airport anonymity.

5. the full-circle fallout: embodying that which i despise

two days after the course, feeling pretty damn good about myself that i might have contributed to greater awareness among a group of in-the-know students, i awoke to find this message waiting for me in my facebook inbox:

“what a bad person you are! left my brother hanging! what it's really wrong with you Americans that can insult humble hard working people and simply walk away like nothing! don't you ever get near me! i am tired of dishonest people! be responsible!"

my (apparently now former) friend was referring to an incident where i had reserved 7 longboards from his brother in Avellanas only to have to cancel an hour beforehand when all of the students decided they were tired and didn’t want to surf. understandably, dude was pissed, and i had no clue how to play it. should i have paid him for the boards we didn’t use with money that wasn’t mine for a service that wasn’t rendered? maybe. instead, i apologized profusely and told him it was out of my hands, and that we still wanted to rent boards the next day and that it would be cool if he wanted to charge us extra for what he might have lost in income from the day before. he wasn’t having it, and wasn’t about to reserve boards again without a deposit for a flaky gringa who very well might cancel again at the last minute. i totally understood and told him i’d call the next day if we were going to rent boards. we ended up renting elsewhere to avoid the drama, especially since it was super windy and not that many of the students wanted to surf anyway. i invited him and the other surf instructors to join us for lunch, but got no response. it was probably received as a slap in the face, a pathetic consolation prize for being out the $160 bucks he’d been counting on.

i still don’t know if i did the right thing, but i can’t go back in time and change it, and it still bothers me thinking about it. especially the part about being grouped with ‘you Americans who insult humble hardworking people and simply walk away like nothing”. that part cuts like a knife, since i’ve really worked hard to never embody that image i so despise. in fact, i spent a lot of time in the course itself talking about ownership and how we as gringos have fucked a lot of things up here as tourists and ex-pat surfers trying to live the dream. so being perceived as one of ‘those Americans’ still makes me cringe in my bones, since i’ve always seen myself as one of the good guys trying hard to support local biz and find my niche within the existing community with as little negative impact as possible. but maybe that’s my own naively impossible dream and looking myself in the mirror through the hard words of someone i respect makes it all the more difficult to believe. is there no such thing as ‘a good gringo’? or is it just that so many gringos have given us a bad name that when we make a human mistake or a difficult judgment call in a sticky situation, we’re all grouped together and written off as ‘you Americans doing X thing wrong’? how do we live in the narrow confines of a box like that?

either way, tensions are no doubt rising in the tico-gringo dynamics of puravidalandia, and the surfer community is no exception.  i have a feeling it’s going to get hotter before it gets cool again, but in that scenario, i hope i can still be one of the good guys, even if i never succeed in wiping the gringa stamp off my forehead.