The phrase “work to live, don’t live to work” is increasingly difficult to adhere to in an economy that favors the wealthy. Too many people don’t have the luxury of working to live comfortably when they’re busy trying to live at all. But what happens when you’re lucky enough to do something you’re actually passionate about? How do you keep an even work-life balance when you’re both working to live and living to work? For conservationist Ocean Ramsey, who has made a life and a career out of free-diving with sharks to advocate on their behalf, the line between passion and personal life blurred long ago, plunging to the dark depths of the Pacific alongside her dorsal-finned friends. Ramsey has devoted herself to her cause, but she’s also made it her business. And as Ramsey notes several times in the new Netflix documentary, “Shark Whisperer,” her belief that she was born to champion these misunderstood creatures is so steadfast that she’d be willing to give her life to do it.
That assertion, combined with the fact that Ramsey is free-diving among sharks at all, is what has chafed her detractors. Ramsey’s critics say she’s turned conservation into a spectacle, using footage and photos captured during her dives to promote her personal brand while endorsing the protection of endangered species. And as much as “Shark Whisperer” tries to explore the warring perspectives between Ramsey and her naysayers, the documentary quickly becomes mired by Ramsey’s inability to see anyone’s side but her own. Those who oppose Ramsey’s methods have valid complaints about how her pro-shark pageantry may influence those with less experience free diving. But because Ramsey’s life is so inextricably tied to her work, she has virtually no way of discerning between good intentions and worse execution; doing so would be too much of a risk — not only to the empire she’s built, but to what worthy work she has done. Even someone as fortunate as Ramsey, who gets to do what she loves for a living, isn’t immune to losing her humility to a world that glorifies constant labor.
As much as “Shark Whisperer” tries to explore the warring perspectives between Ramsey and her naysayers, the documentary quickly becomes mired by Ramsey’s inability to see anyone’s side but her own.
While I’ve never swum with sharks, I have dedicated a significant portion of my life to journalism and cultural criticism. (I realize how funny that sentence is, but hey, this ecosystem’s got its apex predators too.) As anyone in my field will tell you, blurring the line between your personal life and professional ambitions is necessary to get a leg up in the industry, especially in an unsteady media landscape. Journalists and critics often work for free and for themselves, pitching freelance along the way, trying to find something, anything that will provide a bit more stability. Finding consistent pay is one thing, but maintaining it is another entirely. The work becomes life and vice versa, particularly when a significant portion of the job happens outside of traditional work hours. And if you achieve some kind of success, it’s even more difficult to disentangle yourself from your job.
But when you work so hard and so long to achieve one thing — and, perhaps more importantly, people actually start to listen to what you have to say — the modesty may start to slip away. Ego can get in the way in any industry. And while I consider culture writing and criticism to be very important, I can relent and admit that it’s not as important as preserving precious oceanic ecosystems and the creatures who live within them. See, I am humble! If only Ocean Ramsey could rip a page from my beautifully written book. Although, Ramsey does have her own book: a self-published, 224-page informational guide, titled “What You Should Know About Sharks.”
Ramsey’s book is just one arm of the multi-pronged complaints that have been lodged against her, grievances that “Shark Whisperer” only skims the surface covering. “What You Should Know About Sharks” is not a peer-reviewed or co-authored piece of scientific research; it is a collection of information that Ramsey has attained over her years of free diving. That Ramsey has never co-authored any research is one of her critics’ main points of contention, an objection that Ramsey has no answer to in one scene in the film that sees her lobbying in a public hearing for shark conservation. Redditors who have read Ramsey’s book also claim that she spends sections of it criticizing traditional scientific rigor, asserting that her method of conservation, which is so visual and instantly understandable, is a more immediate and impactful way to reach the public.
Then again, when you dare to go up against the fishing industry, like Ramsey has by challenging the finning business that captures and kills animals for shark fin soup, you need the kind of fearlessness that Ramsey exhibits every day. Along with her husband, Juan Oliphant, who films all of their dives for Ramsey’s 2.1 million-strong Instagram page, Ramsey swims most often among tiger sharks, tracking their behavior and identifying them by name for record. As demonstrated by the beguiling footage in the documentary, Ramsey clearly understands the body language that these creatures use in their habitats, and knows — at least to my untrained eye — how to swim among them without creating major disturbances. Ramsey’s mission is to show the larger public, trained on Sharksploitation films like “Jaws” and annual reports of bloody shark encounters, that sharks are not monsters or killing machines out to gobble up every human they come across. Her work seeks to tell people how to safely handle these animals if they ever encounter one, as well as to change people’s minds about their habits.
As one of Ramsey’s supporters says toward the end of the documentary, “You could do far worse in heroes for your kids.” While that may be true, and Ramsey may be doing well-intentioned conservation work, the ways in which she’s turned conservation into a for-profit business are less than heroic.
But Ramsey’s critics say this is also a great way to disturb shark habitats and keep them from establishing consistent places to hunt and feed. While capturing rare footage of her swimming alongside a great white shark, Ramsey stretched her hand out to let the shark pass against it, a major violation according to other conservationists who worry that the shark, which was trying to feed at the time, could’ve been disturbed and not returned. Ramsey’s visually compelling images and videos are also liable to encourage people to free dive for the Instagrammable experience, which Ramsey offers for a price on her website. Ramsey doesn’t spend much of the documentary trying to shut down her detractors, but does offer one prickly point when confronted with the fact that her work is less than scientific. “What does a scientist do but observe carefully and share the view?”
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As one talking head in the documentary notes, multiple perspectives are necessary in any complicated conversation. But Ramsey doesn’t seem very interested in the perspectives outside of her own methods of work, and becoming so lost in your career that you can’t poke your head out of the roiling waters to breathe is when things become troublesome. When Ramsey discusses her viral video swimming with the great white in the documentary, her response to the criticism she received veers on comical. “It led to business opportunities to passively raise awareness, which was really good for the sharks,” she says of the video. That Ramsey would choose such a nothingburger phrase like “passively raise awareness” says more than anything. Such passive, awareness-raising business opportunities can be found on her website’s store, which includes tiger shark yoga mats and rash guards to wear during your next free dive. But if you’re going for the One Ocean Conservation-branded bamboo spork, I’m sorry to tell you, it’s sold out.
As one of Ramsey’s supporters says toward the end of the documentary, “You could do far worse in heroes for your kids.” While that may be true, and Ramsey may be doing well-intentioned conservation work, the ways in which she’s turned conservation into a for-profit business are less than heroic. If anything, her form of conservation is a depressing sign that even the most noble causes are ripe for commodification, and that no one is immune to the demands of capitalism. While Ramsey may be a stickler for oceanic preservation, it seems she’s done little to protect against her humility and self-awareness, floating out into the abyss.
