Exploring the appeal of 'deviant' fight clubs

The recent news of a fight club operating at the University of Manitoba left some people baffled and bewildered, and others outraged and disgusted. Why would anyone consent to participate in bare-knuckle fights for recreational purposes? What kind of person would want to be involved in such a seemingly dangerous, illegal and "uncouth" activity?When people resort to fisticuffs to avenge a grudge or hockey players fight to gain an advantage on the ice, not everyone condones their actions. Yet most of us have some inkling of why, in extenuating circumstances and in the heat of the moment, some people opt to settle their differences using their knuckles rather than their noggins.

The recent hullabaloo has demonized the participants, but perhaps it's more productive to try to understand why such a group formed.

While participation is illegal under the prize-fighting provision of the Criminal Code, those involved in fight clubs aren't necessarily unsavoury characters. But they were attracted to a physical, some would say brutal, transgressive subculture, hidden away from public view. As researchers in the socio-cultural aspects of sport, the question we are most interested in answering is: why?

Bare-knuckle fighting is nothing new. In the 19th century, especially in prairie towns in both Canada and the U.S., bare-knuckle matches were regular features of working-class tavern culture. While obscured from respectable middle-class society, these events represented important displays of masculinity and drew enthusiastic spectators, many of whom had a betting interest in the outcome.

As bare-knuckle boxing matches gathered popularity, they attracted the attention of middle-class reformers who sought to paint the practice as barbaric and have it banned. The response from promoters was to find ways to make boxing more respectable.

Thus were born the Marquis of Queensbury rules and the use of padded gloves. The heavyweight championship bout between John Sullivan and Gentleman James Corbett, which was a prominent feature of Free Press coverage in 1892, was among the first to use these new rules.

A century later, mixed martial arts, commonly called MMA, has undergone a similar transformation, from subculture to mainstream, from disreputable to legal -- including here in Manitoba.

Fight clubs are not a prairie phenomenon and local news coverage demonstrated this as the media sought to better understand the events that took place at a University of Manitoba squash court. When CBC Radio interviewed a California man on his participation in a similar group, the emphasis was on stereotype-busting as a way of demonstrating the "ordinariness" of the people in fight clubs.

The interviewee was an Asian-American computer techie from Silicon Valley, not a disgruntled white man seeking refuge from a consumption-based society and a venue to embrace his masculinity, as portrayed in the Brad Pitt film Fight Club.

Stepping beyond a fascination with blood lust, there is much here for the scholar of gender and racial politics to analyze.

In our classes at the University of Manitoba, we discuss the social, historical and ethical significance of a variety of forms of sport and leisure. Recreational activities that violate societal norms and rules are called deviant. Such labels are fluid, however, as what is considered deviant behaviour changes over time. Both protesting against slavery in the U.S. South and playing sports on Sundays were once considered deviant activities.

Many deviant behaviours draw on notions of autonomy and freedom of choice to challenge or reject cultural norms.

Participants often explain their involvement in banned or illegal activities by noting they are done out of public view and that if all participants consent to being involved, then no harm is done.

Perhaps it's the secrecy and unlikeliness of a fight club that explains its appeal to participants, who are predominantly men.

With the increasing popularity of Brock Lesnar, Georges St. Pierre, and the other men of the octagon, televised MMA fights are now a common form of entertainment that appeals to a diverse audience.

If one of the original draws of MMA was that it was transgressive and underground, its mainstream acceptability may be encouraging people drawn to "deviant" subcultures to look elsewhere.

Maybe even to a squash court in Winnipeg.

Dr. Russell Field and Dr. Sarah Teetzel are both assistant professors in the Faculty of Kinesiology and Recreation Management at the University of Manitoba.

The Learning Curve is an occasional column written by local academics who are experts in their fields. It is open to any educator from Winnipeg's post-secondary institutions. Send 600-word submissions and a mini bio to:

thelearningcurve@freepress.mb.ca

Republished from the Winnipeg Free Press print edition February 1, 2010 B4