I think this post might find a place here, in the Ethics category, or in Political Philosophy, or in Philosophy of Art. I'm not sure where, or even if, it belongs in this forum. Let's find out.

A story about the recent recovery of the helmet of a gladiator in Pompeii caught my attention. Those who've been to Pompeii know the remains of a ludus (roughly, a gladiator "school") may be seen there, so this isn't a surprising discovery. But we have a fascination for blood games which doesn't seem to abate, and it may be said the Roman ludi, the public games featuring gladiators, are blood games par excellence.

Of course we've "enjoyed" blood games or sports throughout our history. But I don't want to address our delight in "blood sports" in which animals fight one another, or people fight or otherwise kill animals, though the study of the grotesque rituals and ceremonies involved in bullfighting or fox hunting may be interesting in a way. I want to address human games which feature human blood as an expectation or end.

I'm not sure if it's correct to say we play them still, except in the case of certain martial arts where drawing blood may signal or hasten the end of the game. People may be seriously hurt in other games like American football, but much as we like to think of football players as especially daring and powerful and (I suppose it must be said) masculine, they'd probably appear as perfumed, posturing dandies next to Roman gladiators, who risked death and being maimed by weapons used to kill and maim every day. Pudgy Teddy Roosevelt liked to proclaim the virtues of the "man in the arena" (and it seems Tom Brady does as well), but there've been no true arena contests since the games were outlawed in around 400 A.D. or C.E.

The Roman games weren't what they've been depicted as by Hollywood. We know from sources that gladiator contests were heavily regulated by the equivalent of referees. They were ornate and organized in the sense that they paired gladiators with different equipment and skills against one another. The helmet found in Pompeii was that worn by a Secutor, who was heavily armored and paired in fights against a Retiarus who wore no body armor and wielded a trident and a net. Gladiators underwent extensive training. Gladiator fights were generally not necessarily fights to the death, though death could result. Bouts would be stopped where one gladiator "gave up" (though his fate might be determined by the emperor or sponsor of the games, if he fought well his life could be spared). Given the life expectancy of the time, a gladiator might not die much earlier than any other Roman. Gladiators who fought well could be granted the status of free men if enslaved (not all were slaves; some were former soldiers, some were even aristocrats, some were citizens who fell on hard times). Gladiators were glorified in a sense.

Sources indicate the Romans thought that a gladiator who fought well was an example of courage, discipline, honor and strength, even and perhaps especially in the face of death. Gladiators possessed virtues of a sort, in other words. It was on this basis that the games were defended by some Romans--for the example they set. Romans admired the skill of many gladiators. Skill in fighting and killing, of course. The Romans were a military society; a cruel society in many ways. But fighting was considered a kind of art. Tertullian, a Christian and therefore an enemy of the games, claimed that those who defended the games and were fans of the games admired the art involved, but considered the artists to be inferior in social status.

Well, I've rambled, I see. But I think interesting issues are raised by the subject matter of my rambling. Were gladiators virtuous? Did the games provide examples of virtuous conduct? May blood games of this sort be examples of art?

Thinking of our own times, sports (though much less bloody and risky relatively speaking than the games) are sometimes thought to instill virtue or involve a sort of artistry. You know, the "playing fields of Eton" sort of virtue, at least. Do they? If our sports do, and the Roman games did not, why is that the case?