Welcome to the Machine

In the second of a two-part social and cultural analysis, I discuss the concepts of habit, myth, and tribalism as they all combine and relate to American football. In previous episodes, I’ve argued that one of the explanations for why football only exists in America and why intelligent people would still continue to watch and participate in something they know is dangerous to the short and long-term health of its players is something I call tribalism. Tribalism exerts an unseen, undiscussed coercion on people to continue doing things they know are unhealthy. People are all tribal to some extent, and some are more affected by it than others. In some ways, it is part of the DNA, but in most cases, it is directly connected to our environment and upbringing; the family we are born into, the community in which we grow up, the schools we attend, the friends we make, our schooling, and our life experiences all go into this mix. But there is a path to change.

In the first of a two-part social and cultural analysis, I discuss the concepts of habit, myth, and tribalism as they all combine and relate to American football. In previous episodes, I’ve argued that one of the explanations for why football only exists in America and why intelligent people would still continue to watch and participate in something they know is dangerous to the short and long-term health of its players is something I call tribalism. Tribalism exerts an unseen, undiscussed coercion on people to continue participating in things they know are unhealthy. People are all tribal to some extent, and some are more affected by it than others. In some ways, it is part of the DNA, but in most cases, it is directly connected to our environment and upbringing, the family we are born into, the community in which we grow up, the schools we attend, the friends we make, our education, and our life experiences all go into this mix. But there is a path to change.  

Luke Kuechly was one of the best linebackers in the NFL for the entirety of his eight-year career. But he will perhaps be remembered foremost for a searing picture he provided into what can happen when a player in the prime of his life and at the top of his abilities suffers a serious concussion on a single play. He would retire from the game at the age of 28.  

There was a time when I believed football had been "good" to our family. But that was a very long tome ago. The more I watched my father's post-NFL life develop, the more I realized that rather than "giving" him or our family anything, it had taken much more. In exchange for playing four years on the college level and eight in the NFL, it had given him meager wages, no transferable job skills for life afterward, a list of injuries, no health insurance or medical care for conditions resulting from his time playing, and something more hidden, insidious, and permanent, that would begin to reveal itself shortly after he retired. And these are the same things the sport takes from the rest of those who play it for a significant period of time and their families.     

In this episode, I update my original Sports Illustrated piece from 2015, in which I described what suffering a concussion in a football game is like and the day many years later when I finally faced the truth that I could no longer conceal my true feelings about the culture of enablement that surrounds the football industry.

If you're a college football fan, have you ever stepped back and asked yourself why you care about whether 18 to 22-year-old young men win or lose a football game? There are reasons people invest significant emotional energy in the athletic achievements of 18 to 22-year-old young men. It just might be in their sociological “DNA.”