The Rise and Fall of Australia's Surfing UBI: A Tale of the Past and a Glimpse into the Future
In the not-too-distant future, Artificial Intelligence (AI) might just turn the world upside down, potentially rendering millions, if not billions, of people jobless. This scenario, reminiscent of the Industrial Revolution's impact, is a topic of intense debate, with some predicting the emergence of a massive 'unworking class'. But here's where it gets controversial: what if this 'useless class' isn't so useless after all?
For about three decades, Australia's surfing community enjoyed a unique form of Universal Basic Income (UBI), affectionately known as 'the dole'. This system, though largely overlooked by surf media, offers a fascinating glimpse into a potential future where people might find purpose beyond traditional employment.
The dole, a product of post-World War II innovations and economic ideals, was a significant part of Australia's history. However, it has been strangely absent from surf media's narrative, likely due to the industry's shift towards market-driven ideals and the rise of neoliberalism. The surf media, controlled by clothing companies with specific consumer targets, largely ignored the stories of 'dole bludgers', despite their significant presence in small towns and beachside suburbs across the country.
It's time to shed light on this historical blind spot and explore how the dole shaped Australia's surf culture and what it might teach us about the future.
World War II brought about several innovations that benefited surfers, including the use of polyurethane, fibreglass, and polyester resins, as well as the development of surf forecasting techniques. These advancements, coupled with the concept of a welfare state, laid the foundation for a unique era in Australian surfing.
The Atlantic Charter, developed by Roosevelt and Churchill, emphasized four freedoms, including freedom from want, which represented an early recognition of economic security as a human right. By 1945, Australia had implemented a fully-fledged dole system, a Commonwealth responsibility, which quietly supported the nation's post-war prosperity.
The 1960s counter-culture movement, influenced by anti-war sentiments and a celebration of drugs, free love, and alternative living, shifted the paradigm. Surfers, embracing a more relaxed lifestyle, found themselves with time and freedom, thanks in part to the dole. This era saw a surge in coastal utopias, with areas like Angourie, Yamba, and Byron Bay attracting surfers seeking a different way of life.
However, these areas were economically challenged, with a steady depopulation of the North Coast region. Despite the allure of cheap land and a laid-back lifestyle, the reality was that many surfers struggled to make ends meet. The dole, though meagre ($26 a week in 1974), provided a safety net, especially as it was indexed and rose annually.
The 1980s, often remembered as a decade of excess, saw the rise of professional surfing and surf companies. Yet, it began with a brutal recession, with unemployment rates at their highest since the Great Depression. This era, known as the heyday of the rock 'n' roll lifestyle, saw surfers living off the dole, renting beachside houses, and even purchasing local real estate with cash from marijuana cultivation.
The dole, being a Commonwealth responsibility, facilitated domestic travel, allowing surfers to meander across the country, collecting dole cheques and camping at iconic spots like Red Bluff. It was a unique public sponsorship of surfing, with no equivalent found elsewhere in the world.
The dole also supported Australia's music scene, with creative individuals finding time and inspiration to pursue their passions. This era saw the rise of great surfers and musicians, with the dole playing a significant role in fostering talent.
The incredible success of Australian pro surfing from its inception in 1976 until the late 1980s might be attributed, in part, to the dole. With more people spending time surfing, the level of skill increased, creating a competitive environment that nurtured elite talents. However, the male-dominated culture of the time likely suppressed the development of female pro surfing talent, a subject worth exploring separately.
The early 1990s recession marked a turning point. The prevailing mood of the country changed with the incoming Liberal government, and dole bludgers became an easy target. The government's focus on budget surpluses and middle-class welfare made life on the dole increasingly difficult and miserable.
As the new century approached, the surfing UBI lifestyle began to fade. The neoliberal boom, rising living costs, and a crackdown on the under-the-table cash economy made it impossible to sustain a surfing life on the dole. Smart individuals capitalized on mining and building booms, and the once-affordable coastal living became a distant memory.
Today, the demographic and ecological niche once occupied by dole bludgers is largely taken up by tradespeople with flexible work schedules and sufficient income. The B-grade waves and babyfood days, once the domain of surfers living off the dole, are now crowded with sea change boomers and COVID learners.
The brief efflorescence of the dole-funded surf lifestyle is now a relic of the past, killed by the economic logic of neoliberalism. But what can we learn from this unique period in Australia's history?
As we face the potential economic tsunami of widespread unemployment in a tech-dominated world, the Australian experience with the dole offers a potential template for the future. With affordable housing and access to supplementary work, a form of UBI or a pumped-up dole payment could provide the basic material necessities for a new, potentially 'useless' class. The time spent in the ocean, developing skills and community, might just be the best preparation for withstanding the AI tsunami.
What do you think? Could a reconfigured UBI system be the answer to the potential economic challenges ahead? Share your thoughts in the comments below!
