Progression in surfing requires the surfer to stand on a precipice. Step too far to one side and the environment offers little challenge; the risks feel theoretical and there is no real demand on the system. Step too far the other way and the ocean becomes overwhelming; the challenges exceed capacity and the surfer drops into a fear state. Learning stalls in both directions, and confidence can spiral in a runaway feedback loop. On the precipice itself, the challenge is pitched just right for the brain to encode new movement patterns and expand the surfer’s tolerance for increasing intensity. This matters because people return to surfing when they feel themselves learning. Learning produces competence. Competence produces agency. Agency creates attachment. Without that loop, surfing can feel random, hostile, or unrewarding.

This precipice is not just a metaphor; it maps closely onto how the brain regulates learning under challenge. On this precipice, the prefrontal cortex (PFC) is stimulated at just the right level. This is the part of the brain that handles planning, attention, and new movement patterns. If the challenge is too low, the PFC is under-stimulated and learning struggles to take hold. If the challenge is too high, the amygdala takes over with reactive, ingrained responses. So, we don’t rise to the occasion, we sink to the level of our training. This follows the classic inverted-U curve of stress versus performance, which mirrors the inverted-U curve describing dopamine’s effect on the PFC. Too little arousal and nothing sticks; too much and the system becomes overwhelmed (Arnsten, 2009). The sweet spot is a narrow band, and in my experience, most learner surfers spend surprisingly little time in it.

The surf coach and spike curiosity

A surf coach can tune the environment so that the surfer stays on this precipice. It starts with the pre-activity briefing. From the moment the lesson begins, the coach is in direct competition with the natural world for the surfer’s attention. This is not the moment for long, familiar monologues about safety or kit design. The surfer arrives in a naturally heightened state of curiosity, or at least anticipation, and is primed to move. This matters: Kang et al. (2009) showed that higher curiosity towards discovering novel information improves recall even one to two weeks later. That curiosity arises from an information gap; the difference between what the surfer already knows and what they want to know. Their attention is usually pulled towards two things: the qualities of the sea – such as temperature, current, depth, wave power, and their own performance – mobility, coordination, agility, and their ability to respond to instructions and challenges.

Front-loading information kills curiosity

A briefing packed with information the surfer does not yet need pushes them off the precipice. At first, they disengage because nothing they’re hearing feels relevant. Once curiosity is flattened, dopamine release is suppressed and the brain becomes less receptive to new information (Gruber et al., 2014). Then, once the activity begins, they are underprepared and quickly overwhelmed. Learning flatlines on both sides of the curve: under-stimulation at the start, and over-stimulation once they are in the water.

Surfing’s paradox

The paradox is that surfing demands fast, instinctive responses in a high-stakes environment, but those responses must first be learned in a calm, curious state where the PFC is dominant. Once a movement pattern is encoded, the brain can switch to a more reflexive, amygdala-driven mode, supported by sympathetic nervous system activation. Arnsten (2009) showed that even mild, uncontrollable stress causes a sudden downturn in PFC ability while enhancing amygdala function, steering the person towards well-trained motor patterns rather than novel movements. Of course, learner surfers do not yet possess well-trained motor patterns. So, typical surf coaching triggers this sequence: surfers are asked to learn new skills while already stressed, then expected to respond creatively when the stakes are high. But the amygdala is not a seat of learning, and the PFC cannot operate well when the surfer is in a threat state. The PFC is slow and analytical; the amygdala is rapid and relies on whatever motor patterns have been well rehearsed.

Big leaps through micro sessions

The way out of this is to granularise the lesson so that every briefing is succinct, immediately relevant, and focused on a single learning point. Remember, the surfer arrives buzzing with curiosity; the aim is to use that, not flatten it. Gruber et al. (2014) demonstrated that curiosity not only improves learning of the intended material but also enhances learning of incidental information: the sort that naturally arises in the sea. To use this, the coach must identify the surfer’s specific information gaps, ideally through conversation. Different surfers are compelled by different things: some want the physics of how surfboards interact with waves; some want movement patterns broken down; some want clear guidance on what waves to catch; some want to explore their own performance limits. When these gaps are recognised and addressed, dopamine activation naturally increases (Kang et al., 2009), and the PFC is primed for retaining new information.

My priority with a new client is to get them in the water as soon as practical. This involves simply wading into the sea floating, jumping over waves, and going underwater. No board, no distractions. A few minutes of shallow water exploration clears the client’s unknowns about the ocean, and satisfies the information gap without overwhelming them. Then, the client is ready to absorb the next stages as discreet modules, such as wave mechanics and selection, board handling, situational awareness, rips, paddling and standing up and so on. The order of these topics falls out naturally as the client’s curiosity unfolds.

Goldilocks’ dopamine

In this state, the surfer stays on the precipice. The PFC is stimulated rather than flooded, and the inverted-U of dopamine and performance is intersected near its peak. Dopamine plays a structural role here, supporting the growth of dendritic spines in the hippocampus during learning (Gruber et al., 2014). These spines are the physical basis of long-term potentiation, where one neuron synapses with another to form new networks. It is the mechanism by which new skills become stable and repeatable.

So why do lessons that ignore a surfer’s curiosity fail? Dopamine is released in response to epistemic curiosity (Kang et al., 2009). In the PFC, dopamine “fertilises” the conditions for new movement patterns to form. Surfers often describe a moment in which something “clicks”; these moments often coincide with the brain forming or strengthening dendritic spines. The more these spines are reinforced by meaningful, rewarding experience, the more robust the skill becomes. This is why curiosity, not hype or pressure, is the gateway to durable learning.

How to tell if you’re on the precipice

A useful way to think about this is to borrow a simple idea from physical training. When building aerobic base fitness, one common guide is conversational pace. If you can speak in full sentences while exercising, you’re working at the right intensity. If you can sing and hold notes, the effort is too low to drive adaptation. If you can barely get words out, the effort is too high and quickly becomes counterproductive. Either side of that middle ground, the training effect drops off.

Cognitive load works in much the same way. When you are on the precipice, you can observe your own mind working. You can notice yourself making decisions, spotting patterns, absorbing information, executing a plan, and recalling things you’ve learned before. There is effort, but it is organised. Attention feels directed rather than scattered.

If you drift too far to one side, the signs are obvious. When under-stimulated, the mind meanders. Attention drifts into abstract thoughts, unrelated worries, or idle rumination. You are present in the water, but not really engaged with it. Nothing new is being encoded.

Too far the other way, and the mind expands to fill the head. Thoughts scramble. Instructions can’t be recalled. Simple decisions feel heavy. You may catch glimpses of the overwhelm itself, the sense that everything is happening too fast to process. At this point, learning has already shut down.

This internal signal is something surfers can learn to read, just like breathing or fatigue. It allows them to self-regulate challenge, whether in a lesson or during free surfing. The mind, in this sense, is not something mystical. It is a tool that evolved to solve problems in a changing environment. When it is given the right level of challenge, it works extraordinarily well. When it is starved or flooded, it does not.

Why does any of this matter?

So why go to the trouble of finding and staying on this precipice? The implications of this extend well beyond faster progression or better lessons. In physical training, aerobic base work improves the nervous system’s ability to return to a parasympathetic state after a sympathetic spike. The spike itself becomes cleaner and more effective, and the ragged tail that follows is shortened. This has clear performance benefits, but it also matters for long-term health and burnout prevention. Dave Grossman describes this effect clearly in his book On Combat, particularly in high-stress military contexts.

I believe the same principle applies to the mind. If we repeatedly place ourselves in situations that demand focus, curiosity, and controlled intensity, and then allow the system to settle back into a calm, relaxed state, we train that recovery pathway. Over time, this makes it easier to return to a state of normality: calm enough to learn, focus, or simply switch off. It also raises our capacity for intensity. When pressure does arrive, responses tend to be sharper and more organised, rather than chaotic or draining. This is a theory, but it aligns closely with what experienced surfers, athletes, and coaches observe in practice.

If you’re interested in how this applies beyond surfing, I explore nervous system recovery and resilience in more detail here.

References

Arnsten, A.F.T. (2009) ‘Stress signalling pathways that impair prefrontal cortex structure and function’, Nature Reviews Neuroscience, 10(6), pp. 410–422.
https://doi.org/10.1038/nrn2648

Grossman, D. (2004) On Combat: The Psychology and Physiology of Deadly Conflict in War and in Peace. Millstadt, IL: PPCT Research Publications.
https://grossmanontruth.com/product/on-combat/
(Book; no DOI assigned)

Gruber, M.J., Gelman, B.D. and Ranganath, C. (2014) ‘States of curiosity modulate hippocampus-dependent learning via the dopaminergic circuit’, Neuron, 84(2), pp. 486–496.
https://doi.org/10.1016/j.neuron.2014.08.060

Kang, M.J., Hsu, M., Krajbich, I.M., Loewenstein, G., McClure, S.M., Wang, J.T. and Camerer, C.F. (2009) ‘The wick in the candle of learning: Epistemic curiosity activates reward circuitry and enhances memory’, Psychological Science, 20(8), pp. 963–973. https://doi.org/10.1111/j.1467-9280.2009.02402.x