Every four years, the world collectively turns its attention to the Olympic Games. For a brief period, niche sports become prime-time viewing, and we all become temporary experts in disciplines we usually ignore. Sprint canoeing, diving, even water polo—suddenly, these sports capture our imaginations. The Olympics are captivating; they showcase incredible athleticism, inspiring stories of underdogs and comebacks, and the sheer thrill of human potential being realized. There’s a unique joy in watching athletes achieve their dreams on the world stage.
However, the Olympic Games are not without their controversies. Serious concerns constantly surface, ranging from environmental and socioeconomic impacts to issues of corruption, political maneuvering, and inherent power imbalances. In recent times, even the very justification for holding the Games amidst a global pandemic has been heavily debated.
Yet, this discussion isn’t about those larger, critical issues. Instead, it zeroes in on what appears to be an identity crisis within the International Olympic Committee (IOC). This identity crisis manifested itself in December when the IOC officially announced the inclusion of breakdancing—or “breaking,” its original moniker from the streets of 1970s New York—as an official event for the 2024 Summer Olympics in Paris.
Initial reactions, for many, leaned towards disbelief. Was this a joke? A headline from a satirical website? No. Following a successful trial run at the 2018 Youth Olympic Games in Buenos Aires, breaking is indeed joining the Olympic program, alongside other youth-centric sports like sport climbing, surfing, and skateboarding. This move is a clear attempt by the IOC to engage a younger demographic and inject fresh energy into the Games.
But is breakdancing truly an Olympic sport? This is where the debate begins, and it’s a valid question to ask.
It’s crucial to acknowledge the immense skill, strength, and dedication required to excel in breakdancing. Years of rigorous training and unwavering commitment are necessary to reach the elite level. No one can deny the athleticism involved. However, the question remains: does it truly fit within the traditional framework of the Olympic Games?
One primary concern lies in the subjective nature of judging breakdancing. Similar to ice dancing or gymnastics, evaluating performances inherently involves artistic interpretation. This contrasts sharply with many Olympic sports where victory is determined by objective metrics like speed, distance, or score. The inclusion of breaking raises questions about consistency and fairness in judging, especially when calls for less subjectivity in long-standing Olympic sports already exist.
Furthermore, the addition of breakdancing begs the question: why breaking and not other dance forms? If breaking is deemed Olympic-worthy, what about ballroom dancing, ballet, or even competitive cheerleading, all of which demand incredible athleticism and artistry? Where do we draw the line? The selection process appears somewhat arbitrary, potentially opening the door to a flood of subjective, performance-based disciplines seeking Olympic recognition.
It’s not to say that all new additions are unwelcome. The debut of skateboarding and surfing at the Tokyo Olympics was undeniably exciting. These sports brought a fresh, dynamic vibe to the Games, even if they, too, incorporate elements of style in their judging. The reality is the Olympics arguably needed these sports and their established fan bases more than these sports needed the Olympic platform.
Whether breakdancing will benefit from the Olympic spotlight is debatable. Does it require the exposure the Olympics offer, or is it already a vibrant, globally recognized art form and sport in its own right? Perhaps the IOC is banking on breaking’s inherent appeal to attract younger viewers. Breaking certainly aligns with the IOC’s goals of incorporating more accessible, TV-friendly sports that don’t necessitate expensive, purpose-built venues. It also contributes to the Olympic movement’s aim for gender equality, helping the Summer Games strive for a 50/50 gender balance in athlete participation, a target close to being met in recent Games.
Importantly, breakdancing stands out as one of the few Olympic sports originating from communities of color. This is a significant factor, offering a counterpoint to the historical dominance of Western, often white-dominated sports within the Olympic program. This aspect adds a layer of cultural significance and inclusivity to the inclusion of breaking.
Ultimately, the question isn’t about dismissing breakdancing’s merits or athleticism. It’s about questioning the IOC’s rationale and the evolving identity of the Olympic Games. If sports like rhythmic gymnastics, dressage, and race walking remain Olympic fixtures, then perhaps there’s space for breaking too. The definition of an “Olympic sport” seems to be expanding, and maybe, just maybe, breakdancing’s inclusion is a sign of the Games adapting and embracing a broader spectrum of athletic expression. Perhaps, like many, initial skepticism might just give way to Olympic curiosity, and we’ll all be tuning in to watch “breaking” make its Olympic debut.
