by John Keller, Communications Assistant
This weekend marks the start of The Masters—the unofficial start of spring and the golf season for a lot of bored bros. I’ll admit, I like watching The Masters. There’s a certain air of grandeur at Augusta National, the host club of the tournament, that is unmatched in sports.
There’s a culture of secrecy upheld by prestige and tradition when it comes to the tournament. Tickets are notoriously hard to land (only available via a lottery system) and the club is even harder to visit—the club is only open to members, a group of the hyper elite, and membership is only available via personal invitation, coupled with a rigorous vetting process.
Such prestige is palpable through the TV screen; the course is reminiscent of the Garden of Eden or some other utopia. Brilliant azaleas in bloom, pristine greens and heavy silence penetrated by bird songs are the first things that come to mind when picturing The Masters. Everything looks perfect—there isn’t so much as a blade of grass out of place.
But as I mature and learn more about how humans terrorize our natural places, Augusta National begins revealing itself as more of a dystopia than anything else—because to look that immaculate one must use lots of water and chemicals.
The Master’s obsession—and golf’s obsession, in general—with aesthetic perfection comes with a heavy environmental toll to bear. Frequent applications of pesticides in pursuit of pristine turf make golf courses among the worst chemical offenders, far worse than say, farmers.
A 2023 study conducted by the Environmental Protection Bureau of New York State found that golf courses on Long Island applied an average of seven pounds of pesticides per acre/ year. Comparatively, the average American farmer uses just 1.5 pounds of pesticides per acre/ year.
What makes this especially damning is that these chemicals are dumped on ornamental grass for the benefit of the wealthy few, often at rates that dwarf those of agricultural applications.
These pesticides make their way into the water supply via runoff, and are linked to cancer, neurodevelopment issues and a horde of other complications for humans. They make their way into food chain and harm predators. Pesticides like neonicotinoids are directly linked to the collapse of bee and other pollinator species.
And they’re still being applied—liberally—on golf courses, to cater to the wealthy golfer’s demands for an artificial aesthetic.
Augusta National, often referred to as the ‘Taj Mahal of golf courses,’ would like you to believe that they’re an exception to the rule. They claim that due to their sophisticated methods of irrigation, they can “minimize use of pesticides.” And perhaps conveniently, there are no figures available to the public regarding the volume of pesticide applications on their grounds.
So why hide behind these vague, unverifiable claims then? If Augusta National is actually environmentally-forward, and actually minimizes its pesticide use, why not just show it?
The same culture of exclusivity and secrecy that makes Augusta National such an unattainable destination is also what is thwarting the environmentally conscious from uncovering the true figures of pesticides use there.
Immaculate places like that don’t exist without chemical intervention, and it’s shameful that the smallest bit of greenwashing enables Augusta National to sidestep that ugly truth.
It’s nothing new, though: greenwashing and golf courses go hand in hand.
Take NY-based Audubon International (despite the name, it has no formal affiliation with National Audubon), for example. Their Cooperative Sanctuary Program for golf courses certifies “environmentally friendly” golf courses for the cost of just $1,000.
Courses are invited to pay the fee, “take stock of environmental resources and potential liabilities,” before receiving “guidance” from Audubon International on how to implement environmental management practices. Audubon International claims this will improve the courses “stature and reputation.”
The problem is you can get certified while using toxic pesticides, which implies they are safe if applied correctly. The standards laid out are so broad and vague that a certified course could easily continue using large quantities of pesticides that far exceed agricultural norms, so long as they put a couple bird boxes up. And there is very little transparency around enforcement, if there is any.
The result is a misleading sense of ecological stewardship—it enables some of the most chemically contaminated, unnatural landscapes in America to pass themselves off as “sanctuaries.”
Elite golf courses operate with seemingly unlimited budgets and no transparency, prioritizing fabricated aesthetics instead of environmental health. Meanwhile, struggling communities in low-income areas around the country are fighting to reduce pesticide use in public spaces like parks and schools. These communities understand the immeasurable cost of chemical exposure but must fight for the most basic safeguards while wealthy golf courses and their vast resources continue to get a pass.
The very institutions—elite golf courses—that are capable of setting an example for responsible practices are the very ones doubling down on toxic chemicals, and to make matters worse, the public is misled into believing that these places are setting an example of sustainability.
If the most famous, prestigious course in the world can’t be transparent, what does that say about the industry as a whole?