Pretensions of "Bigger, Stronger, Faster'

Bigger, stronger and faster clichés

TOM PURDOM

Why do so many Americans think they have to explain every social phenomenon by making general statements about American culture?

The movie Bigger, Stronger, Faster tells the story of three brothers who became obsessed with bodybuilding. Visions of wealth and fame danced in their heads. They believed they could become special people like Arnold Schwarzenegger and Sylvester Stallone. They not only failed to reach such heights, they had to cope with the disillusioning discovery that their role models had violated the rules by dosing themselves with steroids.

This is not an uncommon story. I’ve known writers who harbored similar fantasies. To director/writer Chris Bell, however, it’s a fable laden with Greater Significance. As his movie presents it, Bell and his brothers are the victims of a culture that emphasizes strength, power and the commandment to win at all costs. Samples of our terrible American obsessions flash across the screen-- including, of course, images of U.S. military actions and the obligatory shots of the current occupant of the White House.

Was Patton a typical general?

The movie’s use of General Patton is a good example of its overall thrust. Patton makes two appearances, via the familiar clip of George C. Scott reciting his declaration that all true Americans love a winner and hate a loser. We are obviously supposed to accept, without question, the contention that Patton’s bluster represents the essence of American culture.

But does it? The fact is, Patton wasn’t even a typical American general. He was the kind of histrionic, colorful character— like MacArthur, Custer and Admiral Halsey— who appeals to moviemakers and journalists looking for good copy. But he was actually something of a maverick in American military circles. He seems to have been regarded with amused affection and retained because he possessed virtues that more sober leaders could exploit. In World War Two, Patton served under younger men who used him in special situations that called for someone with his kind of dash.

Can you imagine General George Marshall making Patton’s “winners and losers” speech? Eisenhower? Bradley? Matthew Ridgway? Grant? Lee? Washington? Why should we assume Patton represents our national culture and they don’t?

Why are sports so popular?

The use of steroids, according to the movie’s editorial viewpoint, is a symptom of the “win at all costs” mentality that supposedly permeates our society. But do professional sports really represent our national characteristics?

Sport is popular because it’s an activity most people can understand, unlike physics and molecular biology. Professional sports, in addition, are a commercial entertainment ballyhooed by an extensive marketing apparatus. If the average human could understand particle physics, and particle physicists received the same kind of marketing effort, half the kids in Philadelphia might be dreaming of winning the Nobel Prize instead of playing for the Sixers.

Let’s not forget, furthermore, that professional athletes don’t play only to “win.” If you had a crack at millions of dollars, followed by a lifetime of leisure and celebrity, wouldn’t you risk a dalliance with a dangerous drug?

The English have their hooligans, too

In any case, American’s aren’t the only people enthralled by sports. Spectator sports, complete with violent team loyalties, are an international phenomenon, fueled by the same factors that support the National Football League. Have Chris Bell and his colleagues never heard of English soccer hooligans? Or Latin American soccer players who faced death threats from disappointed fans when they failed to win a World Cup?

If I were going to make speculative generalizations about the significance of bodybuilding and steroid doping, I wouldn’t settle for cheap shots at my national culture. I might, for example, note that bodybuilding is largely a cosmetic phenomenon. Men are spending more and more time developing their muscles as muscles become less and less pertinent to their functions.

Then I would couple this observation with the statistic that women now make up the majority of America’s college students. Are we heading for a future in which brainy women run things and men attract mates by cultivating big pectoral muscles?

Blame it on leisure time

Isn’t it possible, too, that widespread participation in activities like bodybuilding is another result of the affluence created by technological change? None of the brothers depicted in this movie seems to be starving, in spite of the time they devote to an activity that produces muscle mass and nothing else. A century ago, they would have been too busy earning a living to spend so much time working out.

Bodybuilding is only one example of a broader development. Americans today devote more time to all kinds of niche interests. In his book Microtrends, Mark Penn notes, for example, that 6.8 million Americans now participate in archery. 6.4 million Americans hunt with bows and arrows.

If the producers of Bigger, Stronger, Faster favored us with a documentary about archers, they would probably argue that Americans are obsessed with bows and arrows because we’re coping with our national guilt about our treatment of the Iroquois and the Mohicans.

Our brave new world

As for steroids— physical and psychological modifications will become more and more common in the future, as our knowledge of biochemistry and genetics increases. We are living in the first years of an era that will change human life just as radically as all the developments in communications, manufacturing, transportation and information processing that we’ve experienced during the last two centuries. The issues raised by sports doping are only the beginning items in a debate that will preoccupy us for decades.

Contrast Bigger, Stronger, Faster with The King of Kong, released last year. King of Kong relates the story of a Seattle family man who sets the world’s record in an old arcade game, Donkey Kong. A villainous rival and a corrupt establishment attempt to deny his claim to fame, but he perseveres in his valiant quest to get his name in the Guinness Book of Records. The movie combines a lighthearted sense of the overall silliness of the enterprise with a genuine sympathy for its protagonist’s ambitions. The audience laughed and cheered at the same time.

That complex blend of drollery and drama is much more meaningful than a stream of half-baked, unprovable sociological generalizations. It is, in fact, one of the basic differences between tiresome yak-yak and the mysterious, profoundly necessary activity we call art.