Surfveillance: SurfCams,Social Issues and Regulatory Intervention

Abstract

We make a unique contribution to the field of sport and social issues with a place-based case study of one SurfCam fixed to a private residence overlooking the world famous and iconic Bells Beach Surfing Recreation Reserve on the Surf Coast of Victoria, Australia. This case study offers a paradigm example of corporate extractivism that occurs through the surveillance of public space by a private company, which contributes to a range of social and environmental issues and has impacts on the culture of surfing. We argue that SurfCams reconfigure our understanding of surveillance and the governance of open spaces where recreational or competitive nature sports take place. We consider the impacts of SurfCams for individual rights, as well as the environment, and surfing culture. We examine deficiencies in existing regulatory governance and highlight tensions between local community interests, corporate extractivism, and the neoliberalization of contemporary sport facilitated by surveillance technology. Our analysis shows these developments occur in a context where several intersecting governance modes are, at present, incapable of regulating the SurfCam.

Introduction

SurfCams offer a unique view on the connections between neoliberalism, surveillance technology, recreation, and sport. Unlike most forms of surveillance in sport, SurfCams provide viewers or subscribers with information about environmental and surf conditions. This functionality varies from most applications of surveillance that aim to enhance security at individual sporting or mega events, usually within closed environments such as stadiums, or that target athletes to promote sports integrity (Bowles & McGee, 2024; Hutchins & Andrejevcic, 2021). Our argument takes a critical approach to examining the surveillance and regulatory issues surrounding SurfCams, based on a case study of one camera affixed to a private residential property that constantly streams live footage of surf conditions at the iconic Bells Beach Surfing Recreation Reserve (BBSRR) on the Surf Coast of Victoria, Australia. This world-renowned beach is famous for hosting the annual Rip Curl professional surfing contest (Rip Curl Pro). This camera raises numerous questions about whether and how SurfCams could be regulated in light of the relationship of this technology to broader social and environmental issues associated with recreational and professional surfing.

Our argument proceeds in four parts. First, we review extant literature on surveillance, sport, surfing, and technology. Second, we present our case study of the SurfCam at the Winkipop Bells Beach as a paradigm example of what we term “Surfveillance.” The scope of our examination is limited to one single camera given law, regulation, and policy are contextual and jurisdictionally bound. Third, we consider potential social issues including privacy, the data economy, and corporate extraction. Here, we argue SurfCams are a symptom of neoliberal corporate extraction that has impacts on contemporary sport (Bowles & McGee, 2024) and generates peculiar effects in coastal and regional communities. We also examine potential environmental, cultural, and criminological issues associated with SurfCams. Fourth, we identify various regulatory frameworks under current Australian local, state, and federal laws, focusing primarily on laws and policies encompassing coastal management, privacy, surveillance in public places, public nuisance, and public broadcasting. Our analysis shows no regulatory approach captures the installation of this SurfCam, that is located on private residential property, operated by a private company, and overlooks and broadcasts live footage of a public beach where filming for commercial purposes without a permit is expressly prohibited. We conclude by outlining regulatory interventions that might address contentious extractive and rights-infringing surveillance while outlining directions for future research.

Sport and Surveillance

Surveillance in sport is generally confined to a few narrowly defined areas of research (see Bowles & McGee, 2024), focusing primarily on public safety, security, and counterterrorism at closed or temporary major and mega events (Cleland & Cashmore, 2018). Concerns extend to the adoption of experimental security technologies, such as facial recognition technologies (Nguyen, 2002), the overt securitization discourses justifying their deployment (Schimmel, 2011), or more clandestine surveillance practices that occur without public awareness (Bavas, 2019). Studies also point to the implications of detecting violations of athlete integrity, mainly relating to illicit doping and the Athletes’ Biological Passport system. Such processes are tied to literature linking surveillance in sport to the ubiquity of surveillance in contemporary society (Arrigo et al., 2020; Millington & Millington, 2014). Surveillance in sport aims to identify, preempt, and prevent risks associated with patron and athlete deviance (Warren & Zurawski, 2014). Studies also focus on surveillance for injury detection and prevention (Edouard et al., 2018), financial control and identifying taxation liabilities (Leonard, 2006), or the lateral surveillance of athletes by fans to enhance sports governance (Sanderson, 2009). Most recent analysis concludes that athletes are “subjects and commodities of surveillance … exploited both by and for their data” (Bowles & McGee, 2024, p. 6). We build on this growing body of research by demonstrating how SurfCams extend this dynamic to recreational surfers and surfing environments.

SurfCam footage monitors natural conditions that might enable a surfer to decide whether it is worth heading to the surf. They also enable surfers to share and rewatch surf sessions through subscription-based platforms. Here, SurfCams more closely resemble various forms of public surveillance that are increasingly aligned with corporate developments in contemporary smart cities. However, such parallels must be considered with caution because smart cities tend to employ technology for the purposes of public safety, controlling mass population movement, and promoting amenity in urban environments. In contrast, SurfCams generally inform people whether it is worth attending a specific beach location at a particular time. Nevertheless, both developments are underpinned by a corporate ethos that uses surveillance technology and data extractivism to maximize private profit and determine how space is used.

Technology has accelerated the commercialization of surfing, which has impacted both surfing culture and the environment (Mach, 2017). In examining the politics of artifacts, Winner (1980, p. 123, emphasis added) highlights how “arrangements of power and authority in human associations” are linked to technologies, which are defined as “smaller or larger pieces of systems or hardware of a specific kind.” Such technological affordances are recognized by Booth (1999, p. 44) who argues that surfboard “technology has influenced surf-riding styles” in different cultural contexts, and mediates the socio-political effects of surfing, along with other technologies such as motor vehicles. Therefore, “when surfers dance they express, within the bounds of technology, an interpretation of their immediate, and constantly changing, physical and cultural environments” (Booth, 1999, p. 52). However, within the contemporary social context and enhanced technological mediation, Booth (2020, p. 27) has more recently argued that surfing culture is shifting, and “[t]he voices of surfers repeatedly subordinate the environment to personal pleasures that typically come ‘at the expense of everyone and everything’” (citing Davis, 2015, p. 20). This anthropocentric view prioritizes individual pleasure seeking over the environmental contexts of surfing as a nature sport.

Mach (2017) outlines four categories of surfing “technologies”: (1) the physical (i.e., surfboards and wetsuits), (2) climatology, (3) information communication technologies (ICTs) (i.e., digital cameras, social media, and the Internet), and (4) artificial surfing or wave parks. Cameras filming surfing conditions that are connected to the internet are one aspect of ICTs in surfing. SurfCams originated in 1985 with Californian Sean Collins using weather forecasts to operate a telephone service surfers could call, for a fee, seeking advice about where to surf (Mach, 2017). In the early 1990s, this service evolved into the Surfline website (2023a) which, as the largest global SurfCam provider, continues to broadcast live footage from over 600 SurfCams globally (Surfline, 2020). Surfline illustrates how the industry evolves to integrate ICTs, surveillance technologies, and subscription-based media platforms into the culture of surfing. For example, surfers can share their surfing sessions via the Surfline Sessions app (2023b), which processes global positioning system (GPS) information from Apple, Rip Curl, or Garmin smart watches and enables recordings to be sent to subscribers’ smartphones and posted to their social media accounts.

The impacts of surveillance technology on surfing and surfing culture are varied. While Borne (2018, p. 176) suggests “surfcasting websites have profoundly altered the way that surfers engage not only with the surfing experience itself but also with broader surf culture,” Booth (2020) suggests surfing technology has more mixed effects. Despite limited empirical research that specifically canvasses the views of surfers, Mach et al. (2020) found that two-thirds (60%) of over 3,000 surfers surveyed reported looking at surf forecasts on the internet multiple times a day. These results indicate most surfers agreed or strongly agreed with the proposition that SurfCams and surf forecasting websites influence their decisions to go surfing each day (68% agreement) or where they go surfing (68% agreement) (Mach et al., 2020). However, only half said that surf cameras contributed to their enjoyment of surfing (Mach, 2017). Thorpe (2017, pp. 555–556, citing Tomlinson, 2007) suggests “telemediaisation” through SurfCams may contribute to enjoyment in various ways, such as watching SurfCam footage of a surf break remotely, while at work, or rewatching footage of surfing sessions. SurfCam websites may also contribute to developing communities via discussion forums hosted on SurfCam websites, with camera footage shared on social media contributing to learning about performance.

The SurfCam at Winkipop Bells Beach

Our place-based case study examines relevant Australian federal, Victorian state, and local government laws and policies potentially applicable to regulate one camera overlooking the Winkipop surf break at the BBSRR. Regulatory issues are likely to be borne out differently in varying local communities where SurfCams are located. BBSRR is recognized as a sacred place by the Traditional First-Nations owners, the Wadawurrung/Wathaurong People of the Kulin Nations, which has additional cultural and governance implications. Our open-source research, which included public statements made by representatives of the community, the local council, and media reports that referred to SurfCams in this region, combined with our analysis of relevant regulatory frameworks, identifies profound gaps and loopholes in regulating this surfveillance technology.

The BBSRR is part of a continuous strip of coastal Crown land protected under the Crown Land (Reserves) Act 1978 (Vic). In 1971, it was formally recognized as the world's first surfing recreation reserve under the Land Act 1958 (Vic) (Short & Farmer, 2012) and was listed on the Victorian Heritage register on June 6, 1973, even though it is not recognized as a National or World Surfing Reserve (Surfing Reserves, 2023). The status of BBSRR as a surfing reserve is crucial for its ongoing environmental and heritage protection (Short & Farmer, 2012). In 2011, Bells Beach was added to Australia's National Heritage List along with the Great Ocean Road and the Twelve Apostles (Department of Climate Change, Energy and the Environment, 2021). The historical and cultural significance of the BBSRR is far greater than surfing (Surf Coast Shire, 2021), as the Wadawurrung/Wathaurong People have cared for this coastline for thousands of years. Bells Beach was once an Aboriginal meeting place for trade, and the reef provided abalone and crayfish as a food source (Santarrossa, 2016). In late 2022, the Wadawurrung/Wathaurong People announced Djarrak as the traditional name for Bells Beach (Surf Coast Shire, 2023a).

The SurfCam is located 4 kilometers south-west of the coastal town of Torquay in Victoria in Australia. Torquay is the capital of Australian surfing and home to the global surf brand Rip Curl. Since 1962, the Rip Curl Pro has been held at Bells Beach in April each year, except during the COVID-19 pandemic. It is “the longest running event in competitive surfing, and the Rip Curl Pro Bells Beach is an iconic stop on the World Surfing League Championship Tour” (RIP Curl, 2023). Filming for commercial purposes at the BBSRR is expressly prohibited, with a permit system allowing filming directly related “to specific elements of Indigenous culture or surfing culture” (Surf Coast Shire, 2023b).

There are several SurfCam operators in Australia and internationally, with some operated by businesses, surf shops, or hotels in surfing destinations. We have sought to preserve the anonymity of the company operating the SurfCam at the BBSRR due to threats of legal action stemming from our research. While we obtained information about the company from the public-facing elements of the company's website, we did not collect or analyze any views or opinions about the SurfCam or the company from discussions among site subscribers (i.e., from the discussion forums on the company's website). We were unable to locate information on the company's subscription base and finances through public sources, even though this has implications for the applicability of the Australian Privacy Act 1988 (Cth).

We can state this is an Australian company offering a website and mobile application providing access to surf forecasts and live footage from over 100 cameras located around the Australian coastline. The platform also hosts news, discussion forums, and extended forecasts for international surf trips. About 23% of the company's cameras can be viewed freely by those visiting the website, with advertising a likely revenue stream. Streamed footage from the remaining 77% of cameras is only accessible through a subscription for an annual cost ranging from $79.95 to $107.40 AUD. Anonymized metrics indicate the company had over 2 million monthly visits and 3,000 app downloads in 2023 (Crunchbase, 2023), but it is not possible to determine annual revenue, turnover, or the total number of subscribers from public sources.

The camera overlooking the BBSRR is located on private land and broadcasts footage of public land for private commercial gain. The SurfCam is fixed to a private residence and constantly streams footage of the Winkipop surf breaks (Lamacraft, 2022b), which is only accessible to those with a paid subscription. As we show further below, this public/private jurisdictional conundrum is the source of the major loophole in existing regulatory governance. The Surf Coast Shire claims it has no jurisdiction or power to prevent the broadcast of live footage of public land from private land for private or commercial purposes. According to the Shire's Acting General Manager of Placemaking and Environment “because the SurfCam … is on private freehold land zoned low density residential, planning and building permits were not required for its installation and use” (Lamacraft, 2022d). This is despite the fact that filming for commercial purposes at the BBSRR without a permit is expressly prohibited (Surf Coast Shire, 2023b).

Social Issues with SurfCams

Privacy, the Data Economy, and Corporate Extraction

An extensive literature examines the various impacts of surveillance in public space including individual privacy, data harvesting, and corporate data extraction. Smart cities involve the installation of low-cost devices, such as cameras or scanning chips, into the built infrastructure, which can be connected to either closed networks operated by a local council and managed by a technology company, or streamed through open access satellite systems that provide low-cost, real-time images for interested viewers or paid subscribers.

ICTs in smart cities are commonly justified to enable efficient population flows (Sadowski, 2020, p. 108) or promote social order by automatically adjusting light or even projecting calming sounds and scents into the atmosphere (Pali & Schuilenberg, 2020, p. 784). This technological vision of the “happy city” (Pali & Schuilenberg, 2020, p. 780) is built on an infrastructure of continuous automated surveillance and control (Arrigo et al., 2020). However, such developments are often characterized by a lack of social license and technological sovereignty for citizens (Mann et al., 2020). Corporate extraction in urban contexts is demonstrated through Mann et al.'s (2020) examination of Google/Alphabet Sidewalk Labs Smart City development in Toronto. Common to such urban developments is the corporate extraction of data about citizens who attend or travel through these technologically mediated environments.

Privacy is not the only concern with smart cities. For example, research into “smart” crime prevention in the Australian city of Darwin identified how technology racializes crime control through the enhanced monitoring and policing of First Nations Peoples in public places (O’Malley & Smith, 2022). There is little research on how smart city “developments” apply specifically in regional, rural, and beachside contexts (Hogg and Carrington, 2006). One article by Spicer et al. (2021) examined smart city technologies in the remote areas of the Annapolis Valley in Nova Scotia and Iqaluit, Nunavut. This study revealed smart technological mediation requires collaboration with local communities given digital divides and differing capacity and scale that characterize life in smaller communities. We are unaware of any research that considers technological mediation, corporate extraction, and surveillance specifically in coastal locations.

SurfCams represent broader neoliberal trends in sport as private industry extract from and reshape the uses of personal data. Here, data extraction involves the constant streaming of environmental conditions of public waters and lands, as well as the individuals within these locations, for profit motives. This raises concerns about how personal data is extracted and exploited for commercial gain without social license or reinvestment into local communities (Mann et al., 2020). Representatives of the Surf Coast Shire Council have made public comments about the commercial aspects of the SurfCam, with the General Manager of Place Making and Environment stating:

We are aware of community concerns about a surf cam for this location as it doesn't align with the vision to respect and protect Bells Beach, particularly because it has a commercial aspect. (Lamacraft, 2022a)

Thorpe (2017, p. 558) critically reflects upon corporate uses of new technologies in action sports that “raise important questions for sport and media scholars, particularly regarding athletes’ agency and rights in this new context of mega-corporations, transnational digital and social media.” This has important implications for individual rights to privacy and governance of the collection, storage, and dissemination of personal information. SurfCams extract without respecting individual rights to privacy at public beaches, where people may be unaware their images are recorded and broadcast live on the internet, transmitted internationally, and potentially used for various purposes without their knowledge, consent, or control. Individuals captured by the BBSRR SurfCam are not notified of its presence, that it is live-streaming to the internet, nor have they consented to it. There is no signage to inform members of the public about the camera's operation (Lippert, 2009), and no mechanism to opt out. Some of the SurfCams on the company's website record and broadcast car parks adjacent to surf breaks where vehicles can clearly be identified and individuals are getting changed after their surf. Ultimately, the private company controls how this footage is used on both its streaming service and for any other secondary purpose. Individuals have no control over how this information is collected, recorded, streamed, and monetized.

Once the footage is uploaded to the internet it is difficult, if not impossible, to control what is done with it. SurfCams provided by this company have a replay function, which adds a longitudinal aspect to surveillance with the footage stored and made available historically. As we discuss below, footage from shark attacks has been captured by SurfCams (including those operated by the company under examination), republished by mainstream media organizations, and remains available online. Further, a local surf podcast notes how individuals can remotely watch the SurfCam footage at the BBSRR and readily identify other surfers, who can be monitored based on the exact time, duration, and location of their surfing sessions. This disclosure of geolocation data has impacts for spatial privacy. The footage also reveals whether people are surfing alone or with others, which impacts behavioral privacy.

Overcrowding, Localism, and Surf Aggression

Potential overcrowding in any surfing location can lead to safety issues. The Winkipop surf break is a powerful, high-performance break and the SurfCam could potentially draw novice surfers with skills that are not suited to the area's environment or conditions (Lamacraft, 2022c). One concerning possibility is that overcrowding, especially in dangerous surf conditions, can lead to aggression promoted by localism and territoriality (Beaumont & Brown, 2016). Towner and Lemarie (2020, p. 93) argue that:

With a greater number of individuals in the water, many surf breaks have become overcrowded … some local surfers are protective and maintain ownership over a site or break through the practice of localism. Localism may produce aggressive behaviour, including verbal abuse, damage to property and violent confrontations.

Reports of SurfCams being vandalized indicate the sentiments of some local surfers and have been documented in East Hampton (NY, USA) (Kilgannon, 2008), Palos Verdes (California, USA) (Weiss, 2002), and Ahipara (Shipwreck Bay) in Northland, Aotearoa (New Zealand) (New Zealand Herald, 2016; Boyer, 2016). Destruction of cameras can prevent outsiders from accessing knowledge about surfing conditions, which is related to various forms of surf localism directed at tourists (Mach, 2017). There are complexities with the concept of “localism” in invader-settler countries such as Australia, where the land, seas, and waterways were stolen from Traditional Owners (see Weaton & Olive, 2023).

Numerous articles in The Surf Coast Times have documented community concerns about the Winkipop SurfCam and those at other nearby surf breaks (see Lamacraft, 2022a; 2022b; 2022c; 2022d). An online petition for their removal at Wye River and Lorne was signed by 258 individuals. This petition was started by a resident of Lorne, who stated he was concerned about the lack of infrastructure to support the increased number of visitors along the coast due to the installation of the SurfCams:

People are happy to share waves down here, but the infrastructure simply isn't set up for all these people who will inevitably turn up as a result of the cameras. (Lamacraft, 2022a)

SurfCams are also impacting surfing culture. It has been argued that technological “progress” in surfing has resulted in accelerated consumption and neoliberal ideals such as efficiency. According to Mach (2017, p. 47):

The end goal is now more efficient surfing (knowing when and where to go), meaning, not wasting time at the beach if the surf is not running, more waves in more places, having more and better images of surfing, to share with more people and faster over the internet.

While connecting to nature, or the more-than-human elements of surfing (see Olive & Wheaton, 2021) may be considered a form of cultural mythology, ICTs, and other technologies have an important role in shaping both the culture and environmental impacts of surfing (Booth, 1999). This can be seen in the division between anthropocentric and ecocentric elements of nature sports (Booth, 2024).

Environmental Impacts and Surfing Culture

Considerable literature explores the interactions between surfing and the environment. Much scholarly work focuses on the aesthetics and attitudes of the environmental or the more-than-human connection through surfing while promoting environmental protection and sustainability (see, for example, Borne, 2018; Langseth & Vyff, 2021; Olive & Wheaton, 2021). Surfers are often depicted as environmentally conscious with a deep respect and understanding of nature who, at the same time, consume material goods and technologies entrenched in surf culture (Langseth & Vyff, 2021; Mach, 2017). However, there are broader concerns about the environmental impacts of surfing, surf tourism, and technology. For example, Booth (1999, p.52) argues that:

Today the overwhelming majority of surfers live in conurbations. Instead of escaping into nature they immerse themselves in greasy, foul-smelling waters that assault and jolt their senses. The ocean is the built environment's sewer, and like the dirty ashed skies above and the pallid concrete ribbons and blocks which abut urban beaches, it is a constant reminder of human degradation and contamination.

Evers (2019; 2021) refers to polluted leisure, where people surf in blue spaces contaminated by sewage, radiation, and rubbish. As the BBSRR is a heritage-protected regional coastal location, it is relatively pristine compared to many urban beaches although there is ongoing residential development in surrounding areas, including the town of Torquay. This is not to suggest, however, that there are no environmental impacts from surfing at this location or that they will not increase or cumulate in the future. Borne (2018, p. 183) argues “there are multiple contradictions and tensions” about the impacts that SurfCams and surf forecasting websites have “on the movement of surfers to particular surfing breaks, and these can be identified as affecting different aspects of sustainability: for example, energy use, traffic congestion, use of resources etc.” Notwithstanding these complexities, Evers (2019, p. 429) draws attention to the ways digital media technologies “augment leisure” and are “reliant on the mining industry, with all the pollution that entails,” leading to the creation of e-waste. Therefore, “polluted leisure is digital” (Evers, 2019, p. 429).

Like all of us, surfers have become ensnared in a cycle of product obsolescence: the creation of new products with in-built design failures combined with the ongoing and accelerating extraction of the Earth's raw materials to manufacture new products (Bedford et al., 2022). Surfers acquire and use new technologies to improve their performance, and this contributes to environmental harms (Mach, 2017). For example, recreational surfers on average use two to three polyurethane foam surfboards every year that end up in landfill (Gibson & Warren, 2017). According to Evers (2019, p. 430):

The surfboard is made from resins and foam containing styrene, volatile organic compounds (VOCs), and isocyanates sourced from the petrochemical industry. The wetsuit is made of neoprene, a synthetic rubber that is the outcome of the polymerization of chloroprene. Neither the surfboard nor wetsuit is recyclable. The petrochemical and mining industries continue to far and away dominate the surf industry. Surfing is pollution.

Along with these wider environmental impacts of surfing “technologies,” SurfCams contribute to surf tourism and may also impact human–nature connectivity although we recognize this is complex and involves nuanced anthropocentric and ecocentric ontologies (see e.g., Booth, 2020; Booth, 2024). Mach (2017, p. 57) argues using computers and mobile devices for “desk-side indoor surf checks remove[s] a layer of connectivity with the coast and sea.” We recognize, however, that SurfCams may enhance connectivity for those who are unable to travel to certain locations. This can be related to the concept of “mediation” and the ways “cultural interpretations of the environment are shaped by media communication networks, with an emphasis on the social and political ramifications of these media representations” (Hroch & Stoddart, 2015). This process of mediation also has neoliberal inflections, promoting surfers to be productive and efficient with their time. However, the constant live broadcasting of surf conditions enables surfers to observe and travel to remote locations, resulting in carbon emissions and social and economic impacts of service provision, gentrification, and coastal development associated with surf tourism (Hogg & Carrington, 2006; Mach, 2017). Surfing also generates negative impacts for the marine and coastal ecosystems, as surfers leave rubbish, produce waste, trample over local flora and fauna, and encroach on bird nesting areas to reach difficult-to-access locations (Román et al., 2022).

With constant access to live surfing conditions, “the decision whether or not to surf and where to surf has become a rational one based on information rather than experience” (Mach, 2017, p. 58). Surfers no longer head to the beach hoping to find ideal surf conditions, as they can watch live surf cams via computers, tablets, and mobile phones. Thus, technological progress in surfing as exemplified by SurfCams drives an anthropocentric use of environmentally harmful technologies that overlooks ecological considerations, both in terms of the practice of surfing and the monitoring of surf conditions (see e.g., Booth, 2020; 2024). Further, Booth (2020, p. 25) questions the co-constitutive relationship between nature sports and the environment by emphasizing the “environmental ethics and politics of nature sport athletes as an avenue to clarify the relationship between surfing bodies and the natural oceanic environment.” Booth (2020, p. 27) offers the example of wave parks:

Evidence from current debates in surfing regarding the appropriateness of wave parks and artificial waves further supports the view that the quality of the wave is the primary focus of surfers and that they deem quality as independent of the natural environment … wave parks amplify bodily desires and economic calculations of hedonism, and do little to build co-constitutive relationships with nature.

With these social issues associated with SurfCams in mind, we now turn to an analysis of possible regulatory frameworks that could apply in our place-based case study.

Regulating SurfCams

The specific local context is crucial, as it establishes jurisdictional authority over the camera across local, state, and federal domains. We analyze various laws, policies, and governing frameworks that are relevant to coastal management, surveillance, privacy, nuisance and broadcasting in the BBSRR.

Coastal Management Law and Policy

Victoria's Marine and Coastal Act 2018 (Vic) governs the management of specified public and private land in Victoria. It establishes a framework of policy at the state, regional, and local levels and a Marine and Coastal Council to advise the state government. It sets out requirements for consent to use, develop, or undertake works on marine and coastal Crown Land. Under this legislation, the Victorian Government has established a Marine and Coastal Policy (MACP) (State Government Victoria, 2020) and a Marine and Coastal Strategy (MACS) (State Government Victoria, 2022). These measures aim to create sustainable approaches to managing all marine and coastal environments throughout the state, by working with First Nations owners in each location.

At Bells Beach, MACP and MACS are given effect through the Bells Beach Coastal and Marine Management Plan 2015–2025 (the Management Plan), which aims “to respect and protect the natural environment, Wadawurrung heritage and surfing culture of Bells Beach” (Surf Coast Shire, 2021, p. 8). This vision consists of two guiding principles involving respect and protection, and three core values aimed at protecting the natural environment, Wadawurrung heritage, and surfing culture. The MACP has a strong focus on cumulative and consultative management to promote safety, community benefit, and heritage by managing “intangible and tangible cultural values and heritage sites to reflect and protect their values.” Any changes to land use and visitation numbers must be assessed based on an area's heritage values (State Government Victoria, 2020). The SurfCam in our case study appears to be commercial use of the BBSRR given the camera is streaming images of public areas for private commercial gain without reinvestment into the area's heritage.

Privacy and Surveillance in Public Places

The collection, use, and disclosure of personal information in Australia is principally governed by the Privacy Act 1988 (Cth) (herein Privacy Act). Most States and Territories also have privacy laws that apply to public agencies (for example, the Privacy and Data Protection Act 2014 (Vic)). The Privacy Act defines personal information as “information or an opinion about an identified individual, or an individual who is reasonably identifiable.” It contains thirteen Australian Privacy Principles (APPs) that govern standards, rights, and obligations relating to the collection, use, and disclosure of personal information. Most relevant for SurfCams are the APPs that concern the open and transparent management of personal information (APP 1), notification of the collection of personal information (APP 5), and the domestic or cross-border use or disclosure of personal information (APPs 6 and 8). Breaching an APP is considered to interfere with the privacy of an individual, which can potentially lead to enforcement action and the imposition of financial penalties. The Office of the Australian Information Commission (OAIC) is the regulator that investigates and enforces these requirements.

The Privacy Act applies to personal information. According to guidance provided by the OAIC, decisions about what constitutes personal information are complex, should be made on a case-by-case basis, and should consider specific circumstances (Office of the Australian Information Commission, 2017). Personal information must relate to an identified individual or an individual who is reasonably identifiable. The OAIC indicates that “an individual is ‘identified’ when, within a group of persons, he or she is ‘distinguished’ from all other members of a group” (Office of the Australian Information Commission, 2017). When determining whether an individual is identified or reasonably identifiable, the specific circumstances and context are examined.

On a local surf podcast “Horses Mouth,” individuals discussed their ability to remotely watch the SurfCam footage from the BBSRR and readily identify other surfers. This demonstrates that surfers captured in the footage are personally identifiable and can be monitored based on the exact time and location of their surfing sessions. As discussed above, this impacts both geolocational and behavioral privacy. SurfCams can also be seen as an adjunct to “deathlogging” (Gilmore, 2022), given they have broadcast live footage of fatal shark attacks, and this raises additional concerns about the live-streaming of objectionable content. In 2015, Tadashi Nakahara was killed by a shark attack near Ballina in Northern New South Wales with the incident broadcast live around the world (Cheer et al., 2015). In 2020, Nick Slater was fatally attacked by a shark on the Gold Coast with the incident also captured by a SurfCam (Roach, 2020). More recently in 2023, a shark attack was captured by a SurfCam at Gnarabub Beach in Margaret River in Western Australia. The footage of this incident is available on numerous online commercial news platforms, with few outlets not using the SurfCam images (Swain and Seyfort, 2023).

Significantly, the Privacy Act only applies to Australian Government agencies and private organizations with an annual turnover of more than $3 million (AUD). This means small businesses with an annual turnover of less than $3 million (AUD) do not have to comply with the Privacy Act or the 13 APPs. As discussed above, we have not been able to identify public source information about the annual turnover of the company that operates the SurfCam at the BBSRR. In late 2019 in response to the Australian Competition and Consumer Commission's (ACCC, 2023) Digital Platforms Inquiry, the federal Attorney-General recommended removal of the small business exemption, defining personal information more broadly to capture information “relating to” rather than “about” an individual, and the introduction of a civil action enabling aggrieved people to sue for invasions of their privacy (Attorney General's Department, 2023).

Each Australian state also has laws that regulate the use of various surveillance devices, including the use of optical devices in private spaces (see Surveillance Devices Act 1999 (Vic)). This legislation has limited impact on SurfCams because they are streaming activities occurring in public spaces. Unlike Canada, Australia has no equivalent of the doctrine of a reasonable expectation of privacy in public space (Scassa, 2010). However, Surf Cams constantly stream footage rather than conveying images through a CCTV or “closed circuit” system. This means open access streaming for a subscription is more accurately described as broadcasting. This is important because Australian surveillance laws tend to focus on CCTV surveillance systems that have restricted public accessibility.

In 2010, the Victorian Law Reform Commission (2010, p. 13) released a report examining the laws relating to surveillance in public places. Its recommendations centered on six key principles:

People are entitled to a reasonable expectation of privacy when in public places;

Users of surveillance devices in public places should act responsibly and consider the reasonable expectations of privacy of individuals;

Users of surveillance devices in public places should take reasonable steps to inform people of the use of those devices;

Public place surveillance should be for a legitimate purpose related to the activities of the organization conducting it;

Public place surveillance should be proportionate to its legitimate purpose;

Reasonable steps should be taken to protect information gathered through public place surveillance from misuse or inappropriate disclosure.

These recommendations are yet to be incorporated in any Australian federal or state law but relate to surveillance technologies that record or stream public activity. Crucially, the report indicates that legal protection from surveillance in public places, including public beaches, is warranted.

Nuisance

It is unlikely SurfCams can be classified as either a private or public nuisance. Private nuisance involves an unreasonable interference with a property right or some kind of damage to another's land or property. Public nuisance covers interference with more general rights shared by the public and is closely linked to criminal activity but aims to compensate for the effect of the act, rather than punish the person committing the act (Thomson Westlaw, 2023, s. 33.7.360). Public nuisance is established if a person can prove a unique form of harm from a specific act, or that harm was caused to a “representative cross section” of an identifiable class of people, such as residents in a community who use a roadway blocked by unlawful activity. Local councils can also restrain proven public nuisances or sue to have them addressed. A successful action in private nuisance can lead to damages for actual or intangible harm to those directly affected, or an injunction to cease the activity (Thomson Westlaw, 2023, s. 33.7.360).

The only references to CCTV systems in the law of private nuisance apply to cameras installed on private property that capture private activities on neighboring properties, easements, or common areas of strata residential complexes (Merezhko v. Diamandi, 2019; Ras v. Community Corp No 27140 Inc, 2018). One case decided in the European Court of Justice, referred by the Czech Office for Personal Data Protection, indicated a camera installed on a private home that recorded people walking in a public street and adjacent car park was not deployed for purely personal or household activity. As the camera could record identifiable people, the private property owner was not open to the personal or household exemption under Article 2(c) of the European Union's (EU) General Data Protection Regulation 2016 (GDPR) and was therefore subject to various data protection requirements under EU law (Hariharan, 2022; Ras v. Community Corp No 27140 Inc, 2018). In the UK case of Fairhurst v. Woodard (2021), a person who installed a security camera system, a ring video doorbell, a nest camera, and lights on their private property that captured images of a neighbor's property was ordered to comply with the data protection principles under Articles 4 (consent) and Article 5 (lawful processing) of the GDPR. Australia has no equivalent laws or regulations that cover situations where private property owners install cameras that capture images outside their property or live-stream such images for paid subscriptions.

Media and Broadcasting Law

Media laws do not specifically regulate online streaming services. Rather, this branch of law establishes a self-regulating structure for licensed radio and television broadcasters and commercial filmmakers. While online streaming can be considered a form of media activity, we have been unable to identify how a fixed camera filming public space from private land could be regulated under media laws. This reflects a relatively weak regulatory framework governing media surveillance in Australia (Clarke, 2014).

SurfCams are a form of broadcasting that should theoretically fall under the authority of the Australian Communications and Media Authority (ACMA). However, ACMA regulation tends to be focused on print, radio, and TV broadcasting rather than online streaming. ACMA provides few privacy guidelines for broadcasters but does contain a register of relevant codes of practice for the broadcast industry. Most issues involving privacy and the media are subject to loosely enforced forms of self-regulation.

Commercial filming in Victoria is subject to the Filming Approval Act 2014 (Vic). This requires public agencies to adopt film-friendly principles when making decisions to grant commercial film permits to private organizations filming on public land. The 1937 High Court of Australia ruling in Victoria Park Racing and Recreation Grounds Co. v. Taylor indicated that a person could erect a stand on private property to broadcast horse races on a neighboring racetrack. However, given the commercial interests in contemporary broadcasting, and extensive legislation governing ambush marketing by nonapproved media providers, this case may be decided differently today. Such aspects of broadcast law do not necessarily accommodate new developments in ICTs, such as the streaming of live concerts or sports events on social media.

Discussion

SurfCams have profound effects on surfing. Existing Australian laws are currently silent on how these devices should be regulated when they are installed on private property and broadcast live footage of surf conditions, public beaches, and members of the public who are likely to be unaware their images are being captured and streamed globally for profit. While such cameras offer paid subscribers the convenience of determining surf conditions, they can contribute to overcrowding that impinges on local communities and the environment, as well as infringe upon individual rights. As we have demonstrated, SurfCams are difficult to regulate under existing laws governing information privacy, surveillance devices, nuisance, and media law. We suggest this difficulty stems from the image-generating capacity of SurfCams that transcend the boundary between private and public land. Potential reforms to the Australian Privacy Act 1988 (Cth) may extend the application of the APPs to small businesses, broaden the definition of personal information, and introduce a new cause of action for invasions of privacy. These could possibly have implications for the operation of the SurfCam examined in this study, and all SurfCams operated in Australia.

Existing laws and policies could also be reformed to ensure the operation of the SurfCam is more in line with the local community's interest and the MACP. For example, specific laws or policies could be introduced that explicitly prohibit the filming of public land from adjacent private property for commercial purposes. This approach would be consistent with the Bells Beach Management Plan (2015–2025) which emphasizes the importance of community consultation, and respecting and protecting surfing and cultural values, while ensuring revenue derived from commercial activities in the BBSRR is reinvested to protect the local environment.

Given SurfCams are a significant global issue that has obvious appeal to surfers and generates considerable subscriptions and profits, it is likely the removal of SurfCams will only occur through law reform and/or enforcement, and/or rigorous community opposition and campaigning. This would be in line with a well-documented history of surfers engaging in successful public protests to protect surf environments, active participation in coastal management (Hales et al., 2017; Ware et al., 2017), or the examples of destroying SurfCams outlined above.

Conclusion

We have presented a place-based case study of a single SurfCam fixed to a private residence overlooking and constantly live broadcasting the world-renowned Winkipop surf break at Bells Beach, Australia. This examination is a significant sport and social issue as it provides a paradigm example of corporate extractivism that occurs through the surveillance of public space used for sport by a private company, and which can contribute to a range of issues that impact the culture of surfing, the environment, and individual rights. In charting the legal framework that could regulate SurfCams in this location, we highlight how current laws fail to address tensions between local community interests, individual rights, corporate data extraction for profit, and the neoliberalization of contemporary sport facilitated by surveillance technology. There is a clear need for further research into the direct and indirect impacts of SurfCams given their permeation in many local contexts throughout Australia, and internationally. The local context will ultimately shape concerns over their use and permissibility given legal and regulatory frameworks are jurisdictionally bound. There is also a need for further research with local communities and stakeholder groups to better understand the impacts and community views of SurfCams and that includes the perspectives of First Nations People. Such research is vital to guide informed development of law and policy in this field, given the surfveillance industry is expanding with few apparent constraints.