On the one hand, it is vital for us to be able to tell the difference between what’s real and what isn’t. We need to know that if we fall off of a cliff, we are likely to fall to our deaths, not to fly away like a bird. We need to know that the tiger is really there in front of us, and about to eat us.
On the other hand, suspension of disbelief is one of the great human superpowers.
It is our very imaginations that allow us to run wildly outside of the realm of reality, often exploring those limits and eventually figuring out how to expand them. Our cleverness and creativity is so great largely because we allow ourselves to imagine things that might one day be possible.
This delicate tightrope walk has been going on for hundreds of thousands of years, where we live with our heads in the clouds and our feet on the ground. Dreaming of things that aren’t real, but could one day become real, is central to the way we make things better for ourselves.
Every improvement in the human condition has been grounded in the basis of being able to tell this difference. Disbelief is temporarily suspended, but it always comes crashing back down to the ground in the end.
That’s what makes it so interesting when you find a phenomenon that lives right there at this juncture.
That’s kayfabe, pronounced “kay fabe.” It’s when professional wrestling audiences and performers all agree that what they are participating in is real. Now, when I say real here, I don’t mean that these aren’t real athletes doing truly incredible performances. They very much are—the coordination and timing for some of these moves can really only be appreciated if you’ve ever tried to pull any of those things off yourself.
What’s clearly not real, though, is the contest over who wins the match. That’s always predetermined in a kayfabe match, although the audience doesn’t know who will win or what will happen. This is what makes someone who has wrestled in an actual contest against another person shudder to hear pro wrestling called simply wrestling.
Kayfabe doesn’t just include matches, either. The public personas of the wrestlers carry the drama outside of the ring, with very personal details often spilled out for the whole world to see. This back-and-forth is designed to blur that line I was talking about earlier, that all-important ability to bring disbelief crashing back down.
This feeling of being on 24/7 is exhausting. Is it possible to pretend to be something for so long that you actually start to become that thing, or at least start to believe that’s happening?
What about the audience who follow the story? They’re just in this to have a good time, but when they agree over and over again to allow themselves to be fooled, are they making it just a little bit easier to fool them the next time?
Now, I’m not saying that this is every pro wrestling fan! I know that most people watching enjoy the show and understand exactly what’s going on. I think about live-action role playing in a similar vein: all sides know the show is fake. However, the immersion in the role beyond the typical window of a performance definitely creates the possibility for much more unhealthy outcomes.
Knowing that something is dangerous is often enough to avoid the danger itself. Maybe kayfabe is like that for most people in the audience, but I can’t help but wonder if knowing is only half the battle. Understanding psychological danger doesn’t always make the danger go away.
Were you a pro wrestling fan as a kid? Do you follow any of the drama today for fun? Where do you see kayfabe out there in the world?
Pro wrestling is not so much sports as it is theatre. Which means the fact that some pro wrestlers (e.g. Hulk Hogan, The Rock) have also had successful acting careers isn't that much of a surprise.
Well, there's the Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster aka pastafarianism. Publicly, we maintain the illusion that we actually believe. Privately, we know that it's all a joke.
Let's see. I guess drag queen shows would also qualify. Never been to one, but everyone HAS to know that that's a dude up there on stage.
And I suppose that most city council budget meetings also qualify...