If you plan to hit the beach this summer, you might find yourself on contested ground, thanks in part to climate change and a legal doctrine dating back to the Roman Empire. Traditionally, beaches have an inherent means of protection against rising seas: their sandy expanses shift landward. However, the installation of seawalls and other barriers by property owners prevents this natural migration, effectively submerging the beach beneath rising waters. This phenomenon, termed “coastal squeeze,” has been exacerbated as climate change increases sea levels, raising pressing questions regarding coastal management.
Richard K. Norton, a professor of law at the University of Michigan, framed the dilemma at a recent conference: Should we prioritize protecting beachfront homes or the beaches themselves? The historical context of this debate is rooted in a legal code established by Emperor Justinian in the sixth century A.D., which asserted that natural features such as the sea and its shores should be publicly accessible. This principle has become part of U.S. law, leading to a current landscape where beaches below the high-tide mark are considered public trust property.
Environmentalists and regulators contend that the installation of seawalls endangers public beaches, while property owners of coastal homes argue they deserve compensation if their assets are endangered due to these regulations. The issue has become a standoff seen across various states, from Hawaii to South Carolina. As Jeremy Talcott, an attorney representing property owners, noted, while many share a desire to preserve properties along the shore, the financial responsibility to do so is much less popular.
Though coastal geology is complex, evidence shows that seawalls contribute to a phenomenon termed passive erosion, where rising waters collide with immovable barriers, leading to severe beach loss. A significant portion of the world’s sandy coastlines—approximately one-third—has already been armored, with dire predictions suggesting most could experience beach loss by the year 2100.
Efforts to preserve beaches by restricting the erection of armor have emerged, particularly in tourist-dependent coastal communities. However, enforcing regulations can be challenging, especially when previously compliant structures face increasing risks due to erosion. The legal landscape is shifting as well; cases now frequently involve the very existence of public trust beaches rather than property boundaries.
A legal case in Columbia, South Carolina, illustrates this trend. Property owners Rom and Renee Reddy are contesting fines from the state for building an unpermitted seawall, claiming it could lead to unprecedented confiscations of private property rights in the state. Meanwhile, in California, tensions are rising as homeowners recover from wildfires, with some properties now found to infringe upon newly-defined public trust beaches.
In reminders that this issue is far-reaching, environmental organizations like the Surfrider Foundation insist on the necessity of safeguarding public trust resources, even against the pressures of private interests. In the case of San Clemente, California, proposals to armor rail lines near popular surfing sites are being challenged to protect both the coastline and the outdoor activities associated with it.
Smaller-scale armor projects are also proliferating across the country, accumulating significant impacts over time. In Matunuck, Rhode Island, protective measures for roads and water mains have resulted in substantial changes to the local beach landscape, now unrecognizable from what it once was. Longtime residents are left reminiscing about the past while adjusting to the evolving coastal reality.
As the climate crisis intensifies, the interplay of ancient legal principles and modern environmental challenges continues to shape the future of America’s beaches.
