• The ocean has always been shared by sharks and people, and both matter.
• Rising risk forces a choice, even when we pretend it doesn’t.
• The real question is how we manage risk without losing ocean swimming itself.

By Andre Slade – Owner, Ocean Swims

Sharks exist in the ocean. That’s a simple fact, and an important one.

They are a vital part of the marine ecosystem, and their role deserves respect and protection. None of that is up for debate.

What I don’t buy into is the idea that because sharks live in the ocean, humans somehow forfeit the right to be there. The “it’s their home, so we shouldn’t swim if we don’t want the risk” argument sounds neat on social media, but it falls apart when you follow it through to its logical conclusion.

The ocean isn’t a wilderness that humans have just discovered. In Australia, swimming in the ocean is deeply woven into our culture, our lifestyle, and our identity. It’s how we connect, how we stay healthy, how we raise confident kids, and how communities form around the coast. Walking away from the ocean isn’t a neutral choice. It’s a cultural loss.

So here’s the real question we rarely ask out loud.

If shark numbers increased to the point where your local beach clearly wasn’t safe anymore, what would you actually do?

Would you stop ocean swimming altogether?

Would you accept a much higher level of risk for yourself and your family?

Or would you want the ocean returned to a state where swimming felt reasonably safe again?

Because those are the real options. Pretending otherwise avoids the uncomfortable part of the conversation.

There are many shark mitigation strategies, and they sit on a spectrum. Traditional approaches like fishing and culling sit at one end. Emerging technologies like drones, smart buoys, tagging, and real-time monitoring sit at the other. Some are blunt. Some are targeted. Some focus on detection and avoidance rather than removal. None are perfect, and none should be ruled in or out without evidence and context.

The question isn’t whether sharks should exist. Of course they should.

The question is how we manage risk in a way that allows humans and sharks to coexist, without turning ocean swimming into an activity that feels reckless, exclusive, or too dangerous to participate in. That may involve different tools in different places, at different times, based on risk, usage, and effectiveness.

Of course, swimmers also carry responsibility. We choose when and where we swim, pay attention to conditions, follow advice, and accept that the ocean is dynamic and unpredictable. But that line of responsibility has become increasingly blurred. Many recent incidents have occurred outside traditionally higher-risk times and at locations not known for shark activity. When risk becomes harder to assess and avoid through personal decision-making alone, it strengthens the case for broader, well-considered mitigation rather than placing the burden solely on individual swimmers.

For me, that line is clear.

I’m not willing to simply accept more risk and hope for the best. And I don’t want ocean swimming to drift into a space where participation quietly declines because people are scared, even if they don’t say it out loud.

We already manage risk everywhere else in society. On roads. In the air. In public spaces. We don’t remove risk entirely, but we don’t shrug and say, “That’s just how it is,” when practical solutions exist.

The ocean should be no different.

Respect sharks. Protect ecosystems. Use data. Use evidence. Invest in mitigation strategies that demonstrably reduce risk, whether that’s technology, management, or other targeted interventions as part of a balanced approach.

But also defend the idea that people belong in the ocean too.

Because in the end, this conversation comes down to a simple, honest question we all need to ask ourselves:

What level of risk are you willing to accept to keep doing the sport you love?

More on this topic

Everything is teeth: When sharks live in the water, and in our heads

Murray Cox on sharks, risk, and why fear isn’t always logical

From OceanFit: Sharks don’t need statistics. They need understanding.