If you plan to visit a beach this summer, you might find yourself on contested ground, a scenario fueled by climate change and an ancient legal principle established during the Roman Empire. Typically, sandy shores retreat naturally in response to rising seas; however, the construction of sea walls and similar structures by property owners restricts this natural movement, resulting in what geologists term "coastal squeeze." The issue, while not new, has gained urgency due to climate change's impact on sea levels and the associated management of coastal areas.
Richard K. Norton, a law professor at the University of Michigan, highlighted the dilemma prevalent in coastal management discussions: “Are you going to save the beach house, or do you want to save the beach?” This question encapsulates the tension between private property interests and public access rights. The legal underpinnings of this conflict can be traced back to the 6th century A.D., when Emperor Justinian mandated a codification of Roman law focused on the public's right to natural resources, including coastal areas. This notion evolved into what is recognized today in many U.S. states as public trust doctrine, which advocates for public access to beaches below the high-tide line.
As a result, environmental advocates argue against the installation of sea walls, fearing that these fixtures contribute to permanent beach erosion. Conversely, beachfront property owners contend that if their land succumbs to rising tides due to restrictions on coastal defenses, they deserve compensation for their losses. This contentious impasse plays out across the U.S., from Hawaii's shores to the beaches of South Carolina.
Jeremy Talcott, an attorney with the Pacific Legal Foundation, noted that while there is widespread agreement on preserving beach properties, there’s little willingness to fund such initiatives. Coastal processes are intricate, but it is widely acknowledged that barriers like sea walls can exacerbate erosion by preventing beaches from migrating landward. Furthermore, such structures can inadvertently harm adjacent beaches as water finds alternative pathways to erode neighboring properties.
Recent research reveals alarming statistics: roughly a third of the globe’s sandy coastlines are already fortified with armoring. Many of these regions are anticipated to experience significant beach degradation by 2100 if rising sea levels continue at expected rates.
Communities reliant on tourist economics have begun to enact bans on coastal armoring, attempting to restrict development close to shorelines. Yet, these regulations often face challenges, especially when original compliance changes due to erosion threats.
Comparatively, during Justinian’s reign, sea levels had remained stable for millennia until the 20th century marked a drastic change through climate alteration. Present predictions forecast potential sea level increases of at least three feet this century, a conservative estimate by many geologists.
Despite variations in local laws, most states uphold that land below the high-tide line is to be publicly owned, a right enshrined in documents such as Rhode Island's State Constitution, which permits swimming, fishing, and leisure activities on these beaches. Legal disputes are emerging, shifting from issues of restricted access to the very existence of these public beach areas.
One notable case in Columbia, S.C., revolves around a couple fined for constructing an unapproved sea wall at their Isle of Palms property. The couple argues that the implications of the state winning could lead to unprecedented property confiscations.
In California, the aftermath of wildfires has brought added complexities for homeowners rebuilding close to the erosion-threatened coastline. Governor Gavin Newsom's recent executive orders aimed at expediting recovery efforts face pushback from environmental advocates. They assert that the state has a fundamental obligation to preserve public trust assets, regardless of current circumstances.
From San Clemente in California to the beaches of Rhode Island, the rising tide of coastal management issues is not merely an environmental struggle but a legal battleground echoing the principles of ancient Roman governance, an enduring legacy in the face of modern challenges.
