Surfboards: the logic of waste?
This article advocates for the durability and quality of technical surfing equipment; however, it is clear that the legal and accounting framework for businesses in France encourages overconsumption and waste. Consequently, rather than consuming in a reasoned manner, surf schools tend to follow a cycle of buying, discarding, and buying again—a pattern that drags the entire production and distribution sector downward.
The foam board revolution
Let me explain. I have been teaching since 2002, so I witnessed the emergence of the first foam surfboards—a development I welcomed, as it made learning to surf incomparably safer. I started my own business in 2014, just as real progress was being made in the manufacturing of these boards. The preceding decade had essentially served as a testing ground for these new, petrochemical-based materials, and the range of available options was beginning to expand. Instead of boards that looked like they’d been hacked out with an axe—with crude, imprecise shapes—the market began to offer boards that were actually fun to ride, even for an experienced surfer.
Mistakes that come at a high cost
It should be noted that all these discoveries and experiments often came at the expense of surf schools, using boards that initially had a lifespan of no more than one or two seasons. The survival of these board suppliers—whose products, one year out of every three, suffered from manufacturing defects—can be attributed to two factors:
1. The “cool” vibe of the surfing world often fosters a friendly rapport between the salesperson and the buyer—a dynamic that bypasses typical consumer caution. The buyer, lulled into a sense of trust, may accept compromises or take the salesperson’s word that a given defect isn’t present across the entire stock of surfboards. Alas, over time, the boards frequently reveal the same flaw, rendering them fit only for the trash. By the time this happens, the warranty period has expired; the buyer has been duped, while the distributor has managed to mitigate their own financial loss by successfully offloading boards of highly questionable quality.
2. Businesses that operate under the “actual earnings” (or “real-cost”) tax regime benefit from a legal framework that offers advantages regarding social security contributions and taxation, provided they make regular annual purchases and investments. Consequently—particularly in the case of large-scale operations—these businesses often purchase, discard, or resell boards with a limited lifespan at the end of the season (especially if they have primarily acquired low-end equipment)—effectively clearing out nearly their entire stock—only to replace part or all of their inventory the following year.
A source of pollution and waste
The perverse effect of this system is that there is no point in buying high-quality, durable boards, since the stock will be completely replaced anyway—meaning it hardly matters if the boards look worn out by the end of the season.
This system is not very environmentally friendly, especially considering that some manufacturers have distinguished themselves in the market by offering boards that are more durable, higher-performing, and significantly longer-lasting. It is, therefore, entirely possible to produce—and find—boards with a long lifespan on the market.
Nevertheless, I can understand these surf-instruction businesses. Stifled by taxation and compelled to pursue exponential growth, they are driven to make constant investments—purchases that their accountants can then use to loosen the fiscal tourniquet. Every system has its constraints, and the *auto-entrepreneur* (self-employed/sole trader) status is no exception. However, what is valuable about this status is that it allows for greater freedom regarding one’s ethical and philosophical choices. Since a self-employed individual cannot deduct business expenses, they retain full autonomy over the nature and scale of their spending.
For my part, I mostly buy dual-material boards—featuring a resin layer covered in foam—which are both durable and safe, while also offering the technical characteristics one expects from a high-performance board. That said, in some years, these boards develop a defect that renders them irreparable and fit only for the trash. And I must admit, I still let myself be taken in by distributors who promise me that the entire stock won’t suffer from the same issue—a claim I’m naive enough to believe.
You have to understand their market perspective: since most of their major surf school clients replace their boards every year, whether they’re damaged or not, it doesn’t matter if they have defects. Too bad for those like me, who take care of their equipment to make it last, moreover, there is no official warranty period, meaning that the burden of factory defects always falls on the buyers.
The story of a whimsical industry
Then there are the boards that develop bubbles, those that delaminate completely, those that consistently snap in two, those that take on water through the fin plugs, those that had their rocker set the wrong way around in the factory press, those with parts that tear off or peel away, those with a surface coating that causes abrasions, those so soft that they quickly end up with deep gouges, those that come with a “bumper”—and so on. The same goes for accessories: leashes that crack and break, cords that wear out at an alarming rate, and wetsuits made with such poor-quality materials that the zippers fail—and so it goes, on and on.
One could write an epic of the surf equipment industry based solely on foam boards.
And so, on one hand, there are distributors who have remained faithful to the “disposable board” model—hardly changing anything from how things were done 15 years ago—while on the other, there are competitors who have positioned themselves with a higher-quality offering, yet still feel compelled to include a low-end collection in their catalogs to satisfy the demands of major buyers. That is the great irony: if they don’t produce low-end boards, they miss out on massive market share. At times, they are even forced to bow to the outlandish requests of their biggest clients. Here are some highlights:
– Smaller fins, to allow more boards to be stored in the storage areas.
– Surfboards with a sharply upturned nose—to the point where they almost resemble floating slippers. Why? Given that an overly pronounced rocker reduces paddling speed and exacerbates poor positioning on the board, what’s the point? The answer is simple: when instructors are conducting a fourth or fifth lesson during high tide in the shore break, they have no choice but to push their students into these waves. The operators hope that this design will prevent the boards from “pearling” (nose-diving) at the bottom of the wave, ultimately resulting in fewer broken boards over the course of the season.
Two irreconcilable visions of surfing
It becomes clear, then, that two visions are truly in conflict.
– First, there is the instruction itself. For some schools, it is a generous and honest act of sharing knowledge. For others, it reflects a condescending view of the vacationer—someone who is just passing through and therefore undeserving of the best that can be offered—leading them to prioritize quantity over quality. This applies as much to the equipment provided as it does to the teaching methods. In most cases, the focus is simply on pushing the student along, without ever giving them the tools to achieve even a modest degree of independence.
– It also concerns how one views the environmental impact of one’s consumption: given that the market offers durable, high-quality boards—which do not need to be replaced as a matter of course every two or three years—why pass them up? Because they are more expensive? Perhaps, but since they last longer and better meet the demands of the sport and the enjoyment of the students, that argument does not hold much weight.
Softboards and the general public
Certain retailers are effectively pulling off a heist in this market by offering boards that are extremely cheap—because they are ultra-light and fragile. This perpetuates a condescending view of the vacationer: someone who uses their board for just one week a year and, should it happen to break, will have already outlived the warranty period anyway. Thanks a lot, D., for dragging the market down—now, to survive, your competitors are forced to offer low-end boards as well.
Indeed, schools are no longer the only ones purchasing foam surfboards; the general public—whether or not they have taken surf lessons—now buys them from both large and small retail outlets.
And the same condescension applies to direct sales: known defects exist, yet the boards continue to be distributed as-is for years—even though, given the mounting pressures of global warming, they are bound to end up in the trash before long.
Some after-sales service tips
Over time, a surfboard may sustain damage—for instance, another surfer’s fin might slice into its relatively soft outer layer, compromising its watertight integrity. Like any surfboard, it will then begin to take on water, increase in weight, and eventually require replacement. Similarly, a board may break if used improperly—for example, in the shorebreak. In such cases, it will be difficult to successfully claim any form of warranty coverage.
On the other hand, while a surfboard may indeed develop bubbles if left in direct sunlight for too long, the entire underside should not peel away; it is important to distinguish between normal wear and a manufacturing defect.
Similarly, if a board bends or flexes upon the slightest fall by the surfer, it indicates a level of fragility that renders it unfit for surfing—an activity which, by its very nature, inevitably exposes equipment to the stresses of waves and sunlight.
So, the next time a board from your stock shows a serious defect, don’t do what I did—insist on having the entire batch replaced. If the seller only swaps out the two or three boards that happen to show the identified defect, you’ll end up losing in the long run: by the time the remaining boards develop the same issue—which is likely, given that you might not use them very often—the seller will tell you the warranty has expired. You’ll end up paying the price for a manufacturing error, and ultimately, the distributor won’t even bother to fix the underlying defect—leaving that flawed, “trash” board to remain on surf shop racks for years to come.
The missed turn toward sustainability and the local
Experiencing the surf industry from the inside also means witnessing an inexorable, headlong rush—an “arms race” of sorts, characterized by an ever-increasing number of boards made in China, backyard shapers, and surf schools, all driven by a single-minded ethos: business at any cost. Even innovative companies that might wish to stand out only partially succeed, as they are forced to lower their standards just to survive. A sales representative from one such brand was quite pleased to inform me that they had added lower-quality boards to their catalog—along with, of all things, a line of slippers! Besides, why bother producing boards that would last forever, when surf schools will, without a second thought, buy up their entire stock every single year?
There is, however, a shift toward self-reliance that one or two surf brands have attempted to pursue: establishing a factory in France to produce foam surfboards. Yet, for such a project to be financially viable, it would have required the support of other players within the industry. And since supply is driven by demand—and given that many surf schools are indifferent to the origin or quality of their boards—production continues to take place in China.
It is worth qualifying these remarks: not all surf schools—regardless of their size—purchase exclusively entry-level boards. Depending on their students’ skill levels, they often offer a variety of board qualities and brands, ranging from basic models to high-performance equipment. Each surf school has its own teaching philosophy, and the topography of the local surf spots also influences decisions regarding equipment quality—even before financial and accounting constraints come into play to shape purchasing patterns.
As for surfboard distributors, much like surf schools in the Aquitaine region, they face intense, even extreme, competition, as well as international crises that threaten their very survival—such as the Suez Canal crisis, soaring freight costs, and various wars that disrupt trade routes. A foam surfboard is an assembly of diverse composite materials—wood, resin, various types of foam, and plastics—that are either glued together or heat-pressed. Every innovation carries the risk of defects, which can be extremely costly and pose an existential threat to a company. Furthermore, these boards are often manufactured far away, in China, making it difficult to monitor every stage of the production process.
In contrast, traditional surfboards made with polyester or epoxy resin have a longer history; consequently, I believe they are less prone to the risks associated with manufacturing defects.


