Wrestling: Expert explains why we are so fascinated by the fighting heroes

The death of wrestling legend Hulk Hogan raises more questions than just biographical ones. Why do millions of people watch half-naked men in tight pants engage in theatrical brawls? Why do spectators pay admission to watch boxers beat each other bloody in the ring? What is it that appeals to us so much about calculated violence for showmanship?

Wrestling isn't a fight—it's choreography with sweat . And yet, it has a magical attraction for people. Psychologically, there's an age-old principle behind it: people love stories with clear roles. Hero versus villain. David versus Goliath. Good versus evil. Wrestling offers exactly that—cast in muscle mass and presented with a flamethrower.

The violence is paradoxical: It's visible but not real , brutal but controlled. This allows the viewer to be emotionally involved without a moral dilemma. It's like a horror film—you know it's staged, but you still feel it .

The wrestling ring is a mini-universe. Between the ropes and the spotlights, things can happen that are taboo in everyday life: anger, revenge, escalation. The characters—from the "American Hero" to the diabolical bad boy—allow us to reflect parts of our personality that we would otherwise suppress.

Those who identify with a wrestler who perseveres despite adversity feel mentally strengthened . Those who cheer on the villain allow themselves to play with their own dark side. And those who simply want to watch someone get a thrashing experience an archaic form of escapism – without consequences.

Civilization doesn't mean we no longer have instincts—we've just learned how to package them. Wrestling, boxing, MMA—all of these formats are culturally domesticated aggression . They transform what would be destructive in real conflicts into regulated channels.

The audience can relieve tension, identify with the action, or simply share in the excitement – without having to take any action themselves.

Psychologists call this catharsis : the vicarious processing of emotions through experiencing intense scenes. A man in a welding mask becomes an emotional outlet for a stressed office worker.

Christoph Maria Michalski is "The Conflict Navigator" – a renowned conflict expert, author of the new book "Arguing Systematically – How to Learn to Love Conflict," and a sought-after speaker. His tried-and-tested methods help leaders and teams confidently master even tricky situations. With an unusual combination of music teacher, adult educator, and IT professional, he harmonizes reason, emotion, and system. His promise: less stress, more success, and more ease. In his private life, he is a magician, marathon runner, and motorcycle enthusiast – living proof that energy and creativity are not mutually exclusive.

In a world where emotions are suppressed in meetings, conflicts are watered down, and opinions are packaged in politically correct terms, wrestling acts as an escape: loud, clear, unmistakable. It's the opposite of Zoom call small talk. It's archaic directness in the comfort zone of the couch.

Many viewers use these formats as a form of psychological release: They can scream, curse, cheer—and in the end, everything's fine again. Seen in this light, wrestling isn't brutalization—it's a form of emotional self-care with a glittery suit.

Of course. The line between brutality and violence is fluid, especially in formats that depict real violence—keyword: mixed martial arts. Here, too, what one person consumes as entertainment can intensify or trivialize aggression in another. Young people lacking media-based reflection are especially at risk of confusing heroism with brutality.

And the glorification of body cult, macho behavior, and masculine superiority is not without its problems—especially in a society struggling with new gender roles. Wrestling is always a reflection of a society's views on strength, weakness, and justice.

Wrestling isn't a sideshow—it's a psychological laboratory. Those who watch others "beat each other up" aren't looking for violence, but clarity. Emotions without filters. Fights with outcomes. Roles with attitude.

Maybe we love wrestling because it offers what we lack in everyday life: the permission to be emotional . Or maybe it's just the good old need for drama with a happy ending.

Or as Hulk Hogan himself once said:

“Train, say your prayers, eat your vitamins – and always believe in yourself.”

(“Train, pray, eat your vitamins – and always believe in yourself.”)

Anyone who thinks conflict can't be quelled has never met Hulk Hogan. (Winking and not a call to violence)

This article is from the EXPERTS Circle – a network of selected experts with in-depth knowledge and many years of experience. The content is based on individual assessments and is aligned with the current state of science and practice.