Brutal Violence: the critique of the UFC and mixed martial arts

I am not a violent person. I don't get into fights. I don't like seeing people brawl at the bar. Yet I am an avid fan of the UFC, and before that, I was a long-time follower of boxing.

For some people, this doesn't add up. They see the UFC as brutal, savage, grotesque – a modern-day gladiatorial arena. And the people who watch it are, by that definition, blood-thirsty voyeurs.

"First of all," I say in defense, "the MMA is consensual. No one is being picked on or fed to lions. It's both fighters' choice to be there."

The obvious counter: "yeah, but why do you like to watch it?"

I'm certainly not going to argue that the UFC isn't violent, and I can't speak to why other people enjoy the sport, but to me, MMA combat is one of the purest athletic challenges. Everything is stripped away and it's just two people pitted against each other, both putting everything on the line: endurance, strength, strategy, skill and willpower. It's the ultimate physical competition.

The other factor is conflict. Every form of entertainment is built upon conflict, and I would argue that the most popular art is steeped in it. Some people enjoy a dramatic battle of emotions, from the social isolation of Hester Prynne to the inner turmoil of Holden Caulfield. Others prefer allegorical wars fought on soccer or football turf.

Maybe that means we glory in the suffering of others, whether physical, emotional, or even spiritual. Or maybe it is the trials and suffering of our favorite characters, authors, artists, celebrities, and athletes that keep us engaged, keep us turning pages or tuning in for another episode. After all, Harry Potter would not have been a resounding success if he defeated Voldemort effortlessly and without risk on page one and then gloated about it for the duration of seven novels.

The first full-length boxing match I saw was at an airport bar in Miami. Until then, I didn't have strong feelings for the sport either way. I don't remember who the boxers even were, but I became more and more captivated as they wore each other down over twelve rounds. It was the athletes' sheer stamina that held my interest, endurance borne of intensive training and an unrelenting desire to overcome.

The UFC takes that competition a step further by dismantling the rigid rules of boxing and allowing fighter's more breadth of strategy, skill and training. While the "vale tudo" days from the inception of the UFC are gone, there is today a more wholesome balance of professionalism, fairness and sportsmanship.

And thus while an energetic fight between two unknowns can be great to see from an athletic perspective, the draw for me is the intermingling of personality and precedent with competitive combat. It is not just about seeing George St-Pierre defend his title against Josh Koscheck. It is about the dynamic they have both established, the trash talking, the pre-fight interviews, the build-up of animosity and hype, and the impending conquest and defeat.

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