An Ethical Inquiry into G.O.L.F.
(Globally Oriented Leisure Freedom)
By Micheal Scholis
[Modified for Web]
This thesis explores the sport of golf through multiple areas of concentration within my interdisciplinary undergraduate degree, those concentrations being photography, journalism, environmental studies, economics, and philosophy. In my coursework and research, I have traveled to five continents, read thousands of pages of literature in seemingly interspersed subject fields, and created tens of thousands of images to envision ideas I sought to understand. The distillation of these works revealed itself through two central apparent in modern life, the ideas of Leisure and Power, sustained and represented through the institution of golf. In this process I’ve found a didactic approach to storytelling, which finds its foundation in philosophy, population of content through environmental economics, while being told through photojournalism.
Within this thesis, I explore and expound on my ethics formed through a series of reading critiques within relevant philosophical fields. Beginning with Richard Attfield’s “The Ethics of the Global Environment,” Joseph Desjardins’ “Environmental Ethics,” and Cornel West’s “The American Evasion of Philosophy,” I form a framework to understand and attack existing ethical systems and replace them with new values systems. What emerges initially from my critiques is a synthesis of two overlooked ideologies that has the potential for both mass dissemination and practical effect, Deep Ecological Pragmatism. Deep Ecological Pragmatism offers a metaphysical future-oriented philosophical framework to approach non-anthropocentric value systems through pragmatic influenced practices of deploying thought as a tool to enact action. From there, I establish the philosophical groundwork for examining and critiquing golf by reading Andy Wible’s “Philosophy of Golf,” critically expanding the notion of ‘golf’ through Deep Ecological Pragmatism. From this, three ethics emerge, adding weight not only to golf’s place as a sport, but also as a cultural institution that spans physical, psychic, and historical realms. These areas are a Land Ethic (tied to the physical), a Play ethic (tied to the psychic), and an Economic Ethic (tied to the historical). Through Paul Charbonnier’s “Affluence and Freedom,” I weave the threads of these three ethics to historically contextualize the institution of golf and its underlying values of leisure and power. These hidden values are intrinsic to understanding our western culture en masse. By tracing golf’s influence as it grew in tandem with the imperialistic colonial powers of the Northeast Atlantic’s political and economic conquest of the known world during the 17th, 18th, and 19th centuries we see the proposed values of philosophers like Smith, Locke, and Hobbes become manifest. The growing economic viability of the Americas, seeded with enlightenment thought and fertilized by the Industrial Revolution, provided a convenient substrate for a land intensive sport like golf to not only to take root but to flourish. Charbonnier’s exorcism of Western political economy establishes that our current ethics are set on compromised foundations with antiquated values which are actively leading us toward the sixth mass extinction. While golf is seemingly inconsequential in the face of this much larger problem, it’s my assertion that golf offers a lens to analyze and understand the heart of the dominant class and the current state of the world, the values again, being leisure and power—more commonly known as Freedom. The ongoing research seeks to further establish leisure’s connection to culture through Josef Pieper’s “Leisure, the Basis of Culture.” From a critique, again based in Deep Ecological Pragmatism, a myriad of issues with the philosophical underpinnings of what leisure is conceived becomes apparent. Engaging with an ever-changing modern ecology demands a nuanced understanding of leisure, culture, and its manifestation through contemporary institutions.
Having established a philosophical framework a question of a pragmatic affect is necessary; I feel that there are three areas to disseminate said deep ecological pragmatism across three domains: economic (for practical financial effect), theological/mystical/academic(for generational influence), and mass media (for generating political will). Given my studies in communications, I will focus on mass media practice, specifically through creating narratives that utilize photojournalism to interpret environmental economics for mass consumption and the implementation of new visual languages. This will involve a series of case studies that integrate my philosophy within the context of golf, exploring how our values are connected to both local and distant environments across time and space. In my photojournalism, I aim to reveal the latent values embedded in everyday life, thus translating my philosophical ideas from theory into praxis. My journey includes collection of images made in Palm Springs examining water usage in a desert landscape turned golf haven due to economic incentives. From there, I delve into a critique of empire through a series on Imperial Gardens, featuring a walled garden that’s been existed for nearly an eon and a collegiate U.S. Navy golf tournament, exploring conceptualizations of boundaries. My narrative progresses to include reflective writings inspired by Nikole Hannah-Jones' impactful work in the 1619 Project, a crucial reframing of history which examines the racialized caste system in the United States. Here, I confront the contentious history of golf in the United States , spotlighting ongoing struggles for wider accessibility to the sport. This section is complemented by a selection of images from Langston Golf Course. Subsequently, I present photographs from the annual collegiate golf showcase, Stephen’s Cup, where I intricately link themes of leisure, wealth, and empire. The final segment of my work comprises experimental portraits that employ “'opacity”' as a visual technique to allow subjects to partially conceal aspects of themselves, adding depth and complexity to the viewer's interpretation. The goal in this practice is to take the philosophical out of the academic, and begin creating within media landscapes through journalism and photography.
In my exploration of Deep Ecological Pragmatism, I examine how prevailing values contribute to our trajectory toward a sixth mass extinction. I identify leisure and power—core facets of freedom—as primary drivers of this crisis. Specifically, I argue that golf provides a unique lens to study these issues due to its direct impact on land use, political economic implications, and direction of socio-economic growth. The sport has evolved into an institution that exemplifies what I term G.O.L.F. (Globally Oriented Leisure Freedom), which is what I believe to be a runaway train of normative values. This thesis seeks to unravel how the seemingly innocuous practices within golf reflect broader societal values that are complicit in ecological degradation.
Palm Springs
Palm Springs presents itself as a verdant retreat, complete with luxurious golf courses and opulent resorts. This idyllic desert oasis has not only become a beacon for tourists, drawing millions each year but has also seen its economic impact soar. Data from Tourism Economics, a branch of Oxford Economics, indicates that in 2022 the Greater Palm Springs region experienced a tourism-driven economic impact of $8.7 billion—a robust growth of 16% over 2019 and a striking 28% increase from 2021. Despite these impressive figures, the city finds itself at a crossroads, grappling with severe environmental challenges spurred by its success.The proliferation of golf courses in Palm Springs, often cited as a major factor in the local real estate boom, has come at a steep environmental price. Each course consumes approximately 150 million gallons of water per year, a significant amount in such an arid landscape. This lavish water usage is sustained by a complex system that draws from local groundwater, recycled sources, and the Colorado River, delivered via the Coachella Canal. However, this water source is not without its issues; it has been subject to dramatic declines in recent years due to ongoing drought conditions.
Adding depth to the concern, research by the Desert Sun indicates that groundwater levels have been steadily declining. The average depth of wells in the valley, which was about 104.4 feet in 1970, had deepened to 159.3 feet by this year, showing a clear trend of groundwater depletion. Some areas like Palm Desert and Rancho Mirage, which host numerous golf courses and subdivisions, have seen water levels plummet by over 100 feet since the 1950s.
Nonetheless, certain locales show signs of improvement. The La Quinta and Palm Springs groundwater recharge ponds have seen water levels stabilize or even rise in the past three years. These changes coincide with increased infusions of Colorado River water, which filters through the desert soil to replenish the aquifer—a critical source of water for the region.
Despite these pockets of progress, the overall picture remains concerning. An analysis of the valley's oldest wells shows a predominant decline in water levels, with more than 82% of these wells registering reductions. On average, these declines amount to about 48 feet, with the most severely impacted wells experiencing drops exceeding 100 feet.
The strain on water resources due to the expansion of tourism and real estate sectors poses a significant sustainability question for Palm Springs. As the region enjoys economic benefits from its status as a golf haven and a tourist hotspot, the environmental costs continue to mount. The juxtaposition of lush, artificially maintained landscapes against the naturally arid backdrop of Joshua Tree National Park accentuates the drastic ecological adjustments made to sustain this green illusion.
As it stands, Palm Springs is at a pivotal juncture. The city must weigh the immediate economic advantages of its tourism and real estate industries against the long-term viability of its natural resources. With increasing pressures on the Colorado River and heightened awareness of the need for sustainable practices, a reevaluation of growth strategies is imperative.
The challenge for Palm Springs will be to find a balance between promoting economic growth and ensuring ecological stability. As the city continues to attract tourists and prospective homeowners with its pristine golf courses and sunny climate, the sustainability of its water supply and the broader environmental implications of its developmental approach loom large. Will Palm Springs adapt to guarantee a sustainable future, or will it remain ensnared by the mirage it has created?
Imperial Gardens
Gardens throughout all points in history are not just spaces of leisure but are strategic displays of power. These are specially curated environments where nature is both tamed and displayed, symbolizing the empire's ability to control and mold the natural world to its will. The use of space in such imperial settings—the Palace of Versailles, Hanging gardens of Babylon, English Manors, Schonbrunn Palace, etc.—illustrates how empires have historically indulged in the luxury of expansive landscapes. This manipulation of land not only showcases imperial strength but also subverts the freedom of those living within or around such manicured spaces, reflecting broader imperialistic and colonial tendencies.
The imperial gardens of Morocco, particularly the walled gardens that I encountered during my two-week in Rabat, serve as pointed symbols of imperial power and control masked under the guise of leisure and beauty. Daily, I visited the walled garden that was once part of the king's palace, a space that effortfully combines nature with political realities of exclusion and dominance. These gardens, though visually appealing, are fundamentally about the imposition of boundaries onto a people—physical ones made of stone and psychic ones made of socio-political control and the ever-present threat of violence.
The U.S. Navy’s golf courses extends the discussion of power and territorial dominance into the realm of the American military-industrial complex. These golf courses, often vast and meticulously maintained, act as modern imperial walls—spaces that separate groups and signify power. They are physical manifestations of how the military uses leisure as a form of environmental assertion.
The work of Trevor Paglen, a contemporary artist and geographer, illuminates similar themes, focusing on how landscapes are used as an imperial tool to obfuscate, dam, and wall up access to information. Through his exploration of the military's visual presence in American landscapes, Paglen reveals how these spaces, while open and void, effectively act as towering invisible walls that only empire’s of continental scales can maintain and utilize. The Navy golf courses, in this regard, are not just areas for recreation but are also emblematic of America's military might albeit, subtly reinforced through leisure sport.
In both these leisure spaces—Moroccan walled gardens and American Navy golf courses—the landscape serves as a critical engagement. It is not merely a backdrop but a designed dynamic actor which influences the people within it. These gardens, with historical and contemporary political implications, underscore the need to critically assess how spaces of leisure continue to serve as bastions of power and control, subtly yet profoundly shaping social and environmental landscapes.
Golf: The Sport of Power
Tiger Woods revolutionized golf by elevating the sport's profile and economic status and challenging its homogenous racial and cultural makeup. Before Woods became the face of golf, the typical golfer's image was starkly different—often an out-of-shape white man in traditional country club attire. With his athletic build and intense training regimen, Woods shattered these stereotypes and became the first Black person to win The Masters at Augusta in 1997. His success inspired a new generation, yet this triumph reflected a deeper, systemic exclusion; just a year before Woods was born in 1975, Black people were not allowed to play at The Masters. Despite being nearly a decade out from the Civil Rights Act, Black people were only allowed on many private golf courses as caddies, not as players.
Woods's ascent also sparked controversy and criticism regarding his reluctance to engage more directly with Black community issues. There was a backlash from some quarters that felt he did not do enough to leverage his influence to address racial injustices within and beyond golf. Woods, however, often shied away from taking on the mantle of a Black political figure, focusing instead on his identity as a golfer. These nuances underscore the persistent divide in golf—a legacy of exclusion where access and opportunities were determined by race and class. The economic boom brought by Woods, characterized by dramatic increases in prize money and sponsorship, did not translate into increased accessibility or democratization of the sport. Instead, it highlighted enduring societal inequities, compelling us to confront golf's ongoing struggles with race, access, and inequality, challenging the notion of golf as a genuinely inclusive sport.
Golf in America isn't just a game; it's a glaring symbol of privilege, exclusion, and inequality. From its aristocratic roots to its spread across the Atlantic, golf landed in the U.S. as a pastime of the affluent, demanding vast land and leisure time while embedding itself into a society still scarred by slavery and segregation. This sport has always been a playground for the privileged, systematically locking out Black Americans and others marginalized by race, sex, and class, denying them the social and economic benefits it offers. By examining golf's history, we confront the ugly truths of American society—how access to this sport of leisure has been a barrier to building essential social capital for those not born into privilege. It's high time we recognized golf’s role in reflecting and perpetuating societal divides and pushing harder for inclusivity in this elitist sport.
Golf's entry into America is deeply intertwined with its colonial history, tracing back to 1739 with a shipment of golf equipment to Charleston, South Carolina. By 1787, the establishment of the South Carolina Golf Club in Charleston marked the early adoption of this sport by America's elite. Yet, it wasn't until the late 19th century that golf became a fixture in the American leisure landscape. This delay was partly due to economic barriers like tariffs, trade embargoes, and disruptions like the War of 1812. However, the spread of golf from the Scottish links to the vast estates of America's planter aristocracy cannot be disentangled from the somber realities of the era. The leisure time and acreage required for such a sport were financed through the exploitation of African slaves, integral to the transatlantic slave trade that bolstered the wealth of America's burgeoning elite. From its first arrival on the shores of this continent, golf was established as a sport for those with means, leisure, and land.
Despite the context, African Americans were present on the golf courses, albeit in subservient roles such as caddies and groundskeepers. Despite being barred from playing, Black Americans who served as caddies acquired a profound understanding of the game. While rooted in servility, their roles inadvertently gave them an intimate knowledge of the sport's ins and outs.
During the late 19th century in America, golf was predominantly confined to private clubs reserved for the social elite. The first American golf courses began to grow in the North Atlantic regions of the continent. Courses popped up in the suburbs and exurbs of New York, Philadelphia, and Washington D.C.; the coastal financial and population centers. These private courses vastly outnumbered public courses well into the early 20th century. Between 1879 and 1919, the landscape of American golf was dominated by country clubs, which constituted most of the nation's 962 golf courses. Despite this, golf slowly gained a following among the upper middle class at the start of WWI. Golf during this time also became a fixture in the athletic programs of socially elite universities such as Harvard and Yale, further solidifying the sport’s socioeconomic importance.
At Pinehurst, a private club in North Carolina founded in 1895, a degrading tradition of driving a golf ball off a five-dollar gold piece for Black caddies to retrieve highlighted the entrenched racial hierarchies. Despite this, the expertise of Black caddies on the golf course sometimes allowed them to voice their insights, challenging their white employers under the guise of improving their game. Black resistance existed on the course; the sport provided agency in the depths of the noir.
As golf established its roots among the wealthy and influential, the development of the country club became a pivotal next step in its American journey, embodying a dizzying mix of inclusive ideals and exclusionary practices. The emergence of the country club in America served as a schizophrenic manifestation of capitalistic democratic ideals. The country club represented a collective effort to democratize access to the social good of golf. The aristocracy had previously reserved the facilities, amenities, and leisure. However, these clubs also rejected democratic principles by excluding the majority in favor of a select few based entirely on socioeconomic strata. This paradoxical existence reflected the growing class divides at the time of the Gilded Age and, more so, a fractured American identity.
The leading Black golf enthusiasts of the time learned the game in the shadows of these dynamics, directly from the white players for whom they caddied. Drawn from the lower socioeconomic strata of the Black community, these caddies and enthusiasts lacked the financial resources to organize tournaments or establish clubs of their own. Their position in the golfing world reflected broader societal inequities and underscored the complex interplay of race, class, and sport in early American golf history. This period set the stage for the later challenges and achievements in the struggle for racial equality and access within the sport.
As the 21st century dawned, golf in America was on the cusp of a significant transformation. Once ensconced within the realm of the elite and played behind the secluded gates and hedges of private country clubs, the game began to find its way into the fabric of our national identity. The post-WWI period marked a concerted effort to democratize golf, transitioning it from an emblem of privilege to a broader public good meant to enhance the fortitude and spirit of the American soul. Organizations like the PGA were founded in 1916 as the establishment and maintenance of golf courses were increasingly seen as a public good, with substantial investments from both private and public sectors to make the sport accessible to a broader audience.
Despite these advancements towards inclusivity, the shadow of racial exclusion persisted within the professional realms of the sport. The Professional Golfers Association (PGA), through a restrictive covenant adopted in 1916, explicitly barred African Americans from participating in PGA tournaments and from membership within the organization. This exclusion reflected broader societal segregation and underscored the challenges faced by African Americans in82 accessing the sport. However, adversity sparked resilience and creativity within the Black community. In response to the continued segregation from the PGA in 1926 the all-black United Golfers Association (UGA) responded with its founding charter, offering a platform for African American golfers to compete and showcase their talents. This parallel institution not only contested the exclusionary practices of the PGA but also symbolized the enduring struggle for equality in the sport.
The economic boom of the 1920s served as a fertile ground for golf's proliferation. The era's prosperity facilitated a surge in the construction of golf courses, embedding the sport within American leisure culture. Golf courses, originally designed with the compactness and efficiency of their Scottish and English predecessors in mind, began to evolve. Inspired by their homeland’s spaciousness, American designers started experimenting with layouts that offered more than just the game itself. The opening of the Augusta National Golf Club in 1932, with its expansive eighteen-hole course adorned with garden-like manicured areas, exemplified this new direction. This design philosophy enhanced the aesthetic appeal of golf courses and set a precedent for future developments.
The post-WWII era marked another significant phase in golf's expansion in America. The socioeconomic changes brought about by the war, economic prosperity, and demographic shifts towards suburban living propelled a massive increase in golf course construction. In the 1950s alone, 5,558 new courses were created, reflecting the sport's growing appeal among suburban families and retirees seeking leisure and recreation. Golf's historical connotation of affluence resonated well with the aspirations of the upwardly mobile, fostering its integration into the suburban lifestyle.
The return of Black veterans from WWII marked a significant moment in this struggle. Having fought against fascism abroad, these veterans were determined to confront and dismantle the United States' racial apartheid. The Double V campaign, supported by the Black press, linked the fight against fascism with the battle against domestic discrimination, urging Black Americans to challenge both. Golf became a part of this campaign, embodying the fight for equality in leisure activities as a microcosm of the larger civil rights struggle.
In the Jim Crow era, golf courses symbolized more than just venues for leisure; they were bastions of power and privilege. The lush greens and exclusive clubhouses were where the white elite convened to discuss business, forge networks, and seal deals. The exclusion of Black individuals from these spaces served not only to deny them leisure opportunities but also to bar them from influential circles and economic opportunities. Recognizing the broader implications of this exclusion, organizations such as the NAACP began to challenge the segregation of golf courses in the early 20th century, especially those funded by taxpayer dollars yet closed to Black taxpayers. These legal battles culminated in landmark Supreme Court decisions that mandated the desegregation of public golf courses, setting a precedent for integrating other public spaces. However, the journey towards integration was fraught with challenges. Middle-class African Americans, in particular, faced criticism for seemingly acquiescing to segregation in their quest for leisure and status within the narrow confines allowed by society. Nevertheless, this strategy of seeking integration in leisure activities like golf was part of the broader civil rights movement, which sought to dismantle segregation in all its forms. In 1943, the resistance to integrating golf was palpable. White players and officials went to great lengths to maintain racial barriers, arresting African Americans who attempted to play on public courses, delaying court-ordered desegregation, and circumventing desegregation orders by transferring public courses to private entities.
One poignant example of this struggle was Tup Holmes, a talented golfer from Tuskegee who, despite his collegiate achievements, faced barriers at every turn due to his race. The Holmes family's direct petition in 1951 to play at the Bobby Jones Municipal Golf Course in Atlanta and the subsequent lawsuit led by Charles Bell and the Atlanta Golf Committee underscored the determined fight for access to golf facilities. Despite initial skepticism from figures like Thurgood Marshall, the Holmes v. Atlanta case became a critical milestone in the fight for civil rights, culminating in a Supreme Court decision that mandated the immediate desegregation of Atlanta's golf courses. On Christmas Eve 1955, Hamilton Holmes and a group of Black golfers made history by playing on a previously segregated public golf course in Atlanta.
The path to integration was marred by violence and resistance. Incidents of aggression towards Black golfers on the course, such as the 1960 attack at Black Rock and a similar event in Chicago in 1953, highlighted the deep-seated racial animosity that persisted even in the face of legal victories. Furthermore, the continued exclusion of Black players from prestigious tournaments like the Masters, which did not invite a qualified African American golfer until Lee Elder in 1975, underscored the ongoing struggle against discrimination in the sport. The legacy of Black golfers during the Jim Crow era and beyond encapsulates a wider narrative of endurance and defiance. Despite confronting entrenched systemic barriers and personal adversities, these athletes and their supporters fought for their rightful place on the greens, challenging the discriminatory frameworks that aimed to sideline them. Their tenacity propelled the civil rights movement within the sports arena and fortified the broader quest for racial justice and equality across America.
Historical progress towards inclusivity, golf today remains largely out of reach for many, mirroring broader societal issues of economic disparity and racial exclusion. The sport’s significance as a hub for business networking and social interaction underscores the profound impact of these exclusionary practices. Historically limited access to golf has not merely sidelined Black Americans from a pastime but also from a critical venue for wealth accumulation and professional networking.
Despite legal mandates that enforce integration the demographic composition of golf is predominantly white, attributable to several overlapping barriers. The high costs associated with the sport—such as green fees, memberships, and equipment—place it beyond the means of many, particularly those from underserved communities. The considerable time required to play, often several hours, poses an additional barrier, especially for those earning minimum wage. Furthermore, spatial disparities exacerbate economic obstacles; access to golf courses in densely populated urban areas is uneven. Although public courses theoretically provide universal access, only a fraction of the country's courses are municipally owned, making affordable golf access scarce amid the sport's extensive land use.
While strides have been made toward making golf more inclusive, significant obstacles persist, mirroring deeper societal divides. The stories from members of the Howard golf team underscore Black golfers' ongoing challenges and resilience in navigating this space. As golf continues to evolve, the legacy of places like Langston Golf Course and the initiatives by newer golfers underscore the imperative for ongoing advocacy and actions to ensure the sport is truly accessible to all. This conclusion reflects on the historical context provided in your introduction and aligns with the urgent need for equity and accessibility.