Abstract
A Semiotic Landscape analysis, whereby a community or environment’s signage is photographed for linguistic and visual analysis, is a useful means of discovering power relationships within that community’s language use. While Semiotic Landscapes and their predecessor, Linguistic Landscapes, are traditionally used to explore differences between dominant and minority languages in a community, this research extends the concept to analyse hegemonic masculinity at a CrossFit gym. It also shifts the analysis from an outdoor landscape to an indoor, more private setting. Using an autoethnographic approach, the author argues that while many of the CrossFit signs are designed to appear as humorous entertainment or motivation, they simultaneously encourage the subordination of women and certain men, and the naturalizing of a particular view of hegemonic masculinity, as embodied by the ideal CrossFit male.
Keywords
Introduction
‘If you are scared of hard work, sweat, blood and possibly vomit, then CrossFit is not for you’, reads the ‘CAVE RULES’ board in bright red letters. Despite the high financial cost of belonging to this CrossFit branch, known as ‘The Cave’, the message is clear: if you are not prepared to push your body past its limits, you are not welcome. This research analyses the signage in one CrossFit branch in New Zealand, and the power relations expressed within them. The article begins by outlining Semiotic Landscape (SL) research, which analyses visual aspects, linguistic aspects and placement of signs, and how these contribute to power hierarchies in the environments they are found in. However, while SL research is largely used for analysing power relations in bilingual communities, I argue that SL research should continue its progression towards analysing gendered discourses found in monolingual signs. This article then gives an overview of hegemonic masculinity as a theoretical framework, which I use to deductively analyse the gendered discourse in signs found in a local CrossFit gym. Using an autoethnographic approach, I analyse my own (changing) reflections about how the signage was used to construct the classes and the building space. Consequently, I also look at how the signs played a part in constructing the practices and bodies of the CrossFitters who interacted with these signs – which, at the time, included myself.
Linguistic And Semiotic Landscapes
Semiotic Landscape (SL) research involves the analysis of the public signs in a given area. With its roots in Linguistic Landscapes (LL) (Landry and Bourhis, 1997) and Geosemiotics (Scollon and Wong Scollon, 2003), SLs analyse the way ‘written discourse interacts with other discursive modalities: visual images, nonverbal communication, architecture and the built environment’ (Jaworski and Thurlow, 2010: 1–2). In the most general sense, SL research can be defined as study of ‘any (public) space with visible inscription made through deliberate human intervention and meaning making’ (Jaworski and Thurlow, 2010: 2).
The first wave of LL research analysed local identities in multilingual communities, such as the power relations between speakers of majority and minority languages in a given location, and how these power relations were manifested in the language choices evident in the communities’ signage (see Backhaus, 2006; Ben-Rafael et al., 2006; Cenoz and Gorter, 2006; Gorter, 2006b; Huebner, 2009; Landry and Bourhis, 1997; Macalister, 2010). Many researchers of space (see Blommaert, 2013; Jewitt and Oyama, 2001; Jones, 2010; Norris, 2009; Pietikäinen et al., 2011; Stroud and Jegels, 2014) point to the social actions responsible for the creation of a given space. These social actions can be described as ‘frozen actions’ (Norris, 2009) as social practices leave ‘linguistic and other semiotic markings’ of their presence (Cenoz and Gorter, 2006: 7–8). Therefore, the language composition of this landscape becomes both the view of and the reflection of the inhabitants and visitors of the city (Gorter, 2006a: 82).
While some definitions of LL research say that the analysis must concern only written signs (see Ben-Rafael, 2009: 40; Coulmas, 2009: 14; Gorter, 2006b: 2; Gorter, 2013: 191), SL research assumes a multimodal analysis. Van Leeuwen (2004: 11–14) says it is as equally important to analyse the visual elements accompanying the language in a sign as it is to analyse the non-verbal language in a conversation; he offers colour, texture, movement and typography as potential multimodal communicative items for analysis. Previous research that analysed the visual components for discussing the social implications in multilingual signage includes Lou’s (2007) Chinatown study in Washington, DC. She found that despite the Chinese community’s mandate that the shops must use Chinese language in their signage, non-Chinese shops managed to de-emphasize the language by using smaller, less prominently placed writing with flatter textures and less culturally salient colouring than the Chinese shops did.
However, linguistic analysis is still a central part of this investigation as ‘the visible built environment around us often contains (or is inscribed with) language and can have considerable influence on the perceived character of a place’ (King, 2013: 7). Moreover, language remains a key aspect of any multimodal analysis, but semiotic analysis allows a deeper exploration of understanding language by analysing how it is ‘nestled and embedded within a wider semiotic frame … and its place in a multimodal communicational landscape’ (Jewitt, 2009: 2).
Scholars are also advancing SL as a methodology by beginning to analyse different forms of power from the traditional study of multilingual groups. Milani (2013b: 1) says that LL scholarship ‘has largely ignored – erased even – gender and sexuality, two important axes of power along which public spaces are structured, understood, negotiated and contested’ – a gap he aimed to redress. Milani’s research (2013a, 2013b, 2014), in particular, uses Queer Theory to analyse how banal signs in the SL, while often ignored, can sexualize the environment. He analyses semiotic aggregates, such as t-shirts and magazines in shops that promote heteronormative views, as well as ‘safe zone’ posters against homophobia that influence the character of university corridors. He argues that normality is ‘no less exempt than “deviance” from critical deconstruction, in fact quite the contrary’ (Milani, 2013b: 11). Similarly, Piller’s (2010) study of sex-industry signage in Switzerland pioneers SL research in the domains of gender and sexuality; she shows how advertisements for Basel sex-workers cater for a globalized audience seeking prostitutes who fit the global image of Swiss class and cleanliness. While Green et al.’s (2010) research on the sexualized spaces of tearooms, bath houses and dungeons was not strictly LL or SL research, it nevertheless analysed semiotic modes such as the lighting, physical configurations and locations of the spaces. Green et al. found that sexualized spaces may not be simply reflective of cultural constructions, but they simultaneously play a concomitant role in socializing sexual exchange.
Jaworski and Thurlow (2010: 14) say that the novelty of SL research is that it uses site-specific data rather than questionnaire data. Therefore, location is highly salient to the analysis. Barni and Bagna (2009: 126) describe the location in its most basic form as the ‘social space where the observation is being made’, which may include anything from urban to rural to industrial areas. Most LL research has focused on the public domain (Hanauer, 2009: 288; Jaworski and Thurlow, 2010: 12), suggesting that ‘cityscape’ may be more appropriate than ‘landscape’ (Coulmas, 2009: 14; Spolsky, 2009: 25). Conversely, Hanauer’s (2009) research successfully adapted the LL approach by analysing the signage in a professional microbiology laboratory, despite this not being in a publicly accessible or outdoor urban area. Using what he describes as the ‘core’ of LL research: that ‘language surrounds us in our everyday life’ (p. 287), his analysis focused on the form and function of the signage on the laboratory walls. My research is similarly unusual in its analysis of an indoor, less public setting.
Research Outline
With the large majority of existing LL and SL research focusing on power relations in bilingual and multilingual areas, or signage in urban areas, there is room to extend these frameworks into other directions. Firstly, this article focuses on indoor and monolingual signage. Secondly, and consistent with Milani’s views expressed in the previous section, I argue that there is room for SL research to analyse banal forms of gender representation in signage. Therefore, I focus on forms of hegemonic masculinity (Connell, 1993) found at a CrossFit branch.
The CrossFit setting is especially interesting to analyse as Van Leeuwen (2004: 15) points out that many images found in entertainment may escape critical scrutiny by critical discourse analysts, yet may be ‘much more important carriers of political and ideological meanings in contemporary society than parliamentary speeches, newspaper editorials, and BBC radio interviews’. I argue that CrossFit, while not strictly ‘entertainment’, is nevertheless a leisure activity that people choose to do; I genuinely loved the social aspect of the sport and found its competitiveness enjoyable.
Hegemonic Masculinity
The theoretical approach for this research concerns the concept of hegemonic masculinity (Connell, 1993, 1998, 2005; Connell and Messerschmidt, 2005) in the discourses of the CrossFit SL. Connell (1998: 5) says hegemonic masculinity often relates to hierarchy and exclusion based on what is perceived to be the ideal male. It presumes the subordination of non-hegemonic masculinities (Connell and Messerschmidt, 2005: 846) and relies on a combination of multiple patterns of masculinities existing. Even if the hegemonic form of masculinity is not necessarily the most common form, he says ‘many men live in a state of some sort of tension with, or distance from [it]’ (Connell, 1998: 5).
Trujillo (1991: 290–291) outlines some of the features commonly found in the masculinities at the top of the hierarchy. They include power defined by physical force and control, the use of the male body to represent physical force, strength, control and toughness, occupational achievement in industrial capitalistic society, patriarchy and the dominance of men over women and children in the family (or at least a more privileged role as this changes in the modern day view of the family), the symbol of the daring, romantic, outdoor frontiersman, such as the cowboy, and finally, the assumption of heterosexuality. Pringle’s (2005: 266) themes of hegemonic masculinity include features such as violent behaviours, (hetero)sexuality, emotional toughness, dominance – particularly over women, muscular appearance and male-dominated occupations.
These features, which have been formulated as the ‘ideal’ form of masculinity, have been maintained through the notion of hegemony. Deriving from Gramsci’s analysis of class relations, Connell (2005: 77) says hegemony is the ‘cultural dynamic by which a group claims and sustains a leading position in social life’. This is done through persuading people that the practices are natural, ordinary and normal (Donaldson, 1993: 645).
The power structures in hegemonic masculinity may take two forms: hegemony over women, and hegemony over other, subordinate masculinities (Connell and Messerschmidt, 2005: 844; Demetriou, 2001: 341; Messner, 1990: 205). Demetriou (2001: 341) refers to these as ‘external’ and ‘internal’ hegemony, respectively. With internal hegemony’s ‘social ascendancy of one group of men over others’ (pp. 341–342), groups unrelated to the gender order, such as various ethnic, class or social groups, are marginalized in comparison to the hegemonic male ideal. These different forms of masculinity exist in tension with the ideal, but have no impact on its construction (Connell and Messerschmidt, 2005: 844).
This analysis will look at themes of both external hegemony over women and internal hegemony over certain types of men in the CrossFit context, comparing these themes to existing research throughout the discussion.
Methodology
Barni and Bagna (2009: 131) offer a precise means of analysing an LL which has, for the most part, been used in this research. They outline three steps to the process: (1) collecting the data; (2) initially categorizing the data into types; and (3) processing and analysing the data.
My data collection took place in September 2013, and involved taking photographs of every sign within the walls of one CrossFit branch, plus any relevant outdoor CrossFit signs within 100m. Backhaus (2006: 55) defines a sign as ‘any piece of written text within a spatially definable frame’ and, similarly, I have used the spatially definable frame in my definition. However, rather than using only written text as a type of sign, I have included images, such as wall graffiti art, and objects, such as t-shirts. Permission was sought from the owner to take and use the photographs. Any information identifying the branch or its members has been blocked out in the pictures.
For the second step, Barni and Bagna (2009: 132–133) outline six different categories that each sign should be sorted into: the external position, the location, the domain, the context and places, the textual genre, and the people, which are more relevant to outdoor SLs of larger urban spaces. Because my research analysed a smaller indoor space, slightly different categories were required. Notes were taken about each sign according to the following categories: textual genre, written text, visual codes (colour, typography, images, layout, size and a miscellaneous ‘other’, such as three-dimensionality, where necessary), placement, and social interaction with the sign. Any signs which were categorized as being general information signs not relating to CrossFit, such as electrical cable hazard signs, were discarded at this point.
For the third step, a deductive approach was taken, whereby themes of hegemonic masculinity were specifically sought from the data. As discussed earlier, LLs traditionally looked at power relationships between speakers of different language codes. The political and ideological nature of space (Lefebvre, 2009[1970]: 171) means the messages contained within them ‘always display connections to social structure, power and hierarchies’ (Blommaert, 2013: 40). All semiotic aggregates are formed through social action, and ‘analytically, social semiotics is not only able to relate texts to contexts, but it is also able to dynamically speculate on related social tendencies and their political implications’ (Aiello, 2006: 99). Therefore, the discourse and visual analyses of the signs in my research are critical analyses of the power relations found within them.
Stroud and Jegels (2014: 7) say that there are implications for viewing SLs as repertoires of practices of perceiving, living and narrating everyday ‘place’, saying ‘we need to know not just how signage is read, but how it is embodied, enacted, re-narrated and performed’. I have dealt with this aspect in my analysis by taking an autoethnographic approach. Autoethnography follows a social scientific inquiry approach, whereby autobiographical data is used to analyse and interpret the cultural assumptions surrounding the data in this research (Chang, 2008: 46). It capitalizes on the educational resources and ‘source of privileged knowledge’ of the researcher (Hamdan, 2012: 600). I use the most common form of autoethnography, whereby participant observation is used to reflect on the way the data is organized (Duncan, 2008: 31). This approach has been particularly relevant to understanding the underlying hegemonic nature of power in The Cave’s signage, as I analyse my own changing perception of the signs during this research. I take a similar approach to Dickson’s (2011: 30) doctoral research in New Zealand, where he found the gathering of data about the self involved ‘entering into metonymic relationships with [his] own culture [and the] various institutional spaces in New Zealand’.
While using one’s own experiences as data may have limitations in terms of a lack of triangulation, Dauphinee (2010: 801) defends the methodology against arguments that it is ‘suspect’. She invites anyone who has ever interviewed another human being to dare say that she herself has not served as the sole interpreter of the significance of words captured on tiny little audiocassettes and manipulated them to fit carefully into the text she has crafted around the interview.
Rather, autoethnography does not claim to be any more than it is – a refiguring of the self and an opening to a deeper form of judgment (pp. 812–813).
Background To Crossfit
CrossFit is a branded fitness training programme founded in the USA by Greg Glassman. It aims to include ‘constantly varied functional movements performed at relatively high intensity’ (CrossFit, nd), meaning classes often combine elements of weight-lifting, gymnastics and cardio.
The branch photographed in this analysis was found in Auckland, New Zealand, in a city-fringe area. The floor space was approximately 15m x 30m and rich in signage. This branch, which has since shifted location, was owned and operated by a male in his late 40s who affectionately called it ‘The Cave’.
Data Analysis And Discussion
Construction of the classes
I begin my analysis with the whiteboard, as it is arguably the most important sign in the Cave. It is the first sign that the CrossFitters consciously interact with, due to its daily updates and its position at the front of the class. It is used to organize the classes and contains general notices, plus the two most regularly read sections: the ‘WOD’ (Workout of the Day) and the CrossFitters’ latest workout results. The WOD outlines the class’s activities, including exercises, prescribed weights and the time conditions. Here, it has already been erased following the last class. While seemingly innocuous, the board establishes hierarchies amongst the hegemonic and non-hegemonic identities in the Cave.
Viewing a close-up of the warm-up and the WOD section (which was photographed a second time on another day to show what it is typically like) contrast male and female strength.
In this WOD and warm-up, next to the exercises ‘Kettlebell Swing’, ‘Ground to Overheads’ and ‘OHS’, two numbers can be seen in brackets – the men’s weight and the women’s weight. Men are prescribed the first of the two numbers so they will swing 32 kilograms and lift 60 kilograms overhead, while women will use the lower of the numbers, swinging 20 kilograms and lifting 40.
As a female CrossFitter, I would never have considered trying to complete a WOD using the prescribed weight for the men, believing that men are biologically stronger than women. However, hegemony relies on convincing people that a given view is a natural assumption to make because it’s ‘just the way things are’ (Hearn, 2004: 61). While sports in general have been a place where men are able to prove their dominance over women through their displays of strength (Adams et al., 2010: 279), Messner (2005: 316) points out that the range of sporting abilities amongst men alone tends to be greater than the differences between male and female athletes. Messner discusses, in fact, how gyms promote a ‘glass ceiling’ with regard to the weights a women is likely to lift and, therefore, their musculature (p. 319). This will be discussed further in relation to the women’s classes pictured in Figure 3. However, regardless of whether or not the glass ceiling exists, the board visually demonstrates male strength over female strength and segregates them so that they do not compete against each other.
On the right of the whiteboard, the CrossFitters’ times, weights used and repetitions completed are written up at the end of each workout (this is usually individual scores only). At the end of the day, this section is then photographed and added to the website’s blog. If the prescribed weights are used, ‘RXd’ – a term taken from the health profession for prescribing medicine – is written next to the athletes’ names, while those who had to scale to a lower weight need to write up the weights they used. This has the effect of highlighting both who had the fastest time or highest number of repetitions and who is not able to keep up. While a counter-hegemonic strategy would promote supportiveness and a collective goal, competition, elitism and hierarchy are asserted in masculine discourse (Pringle, 2005: 270). However, the appeal of CrossFit for many members is the element of competition, both against their previous times and against other members. Those who do particularly well in one of the well-known CrossFit brand workouts are able to write their names on the leader board (Figure 4), which is not regularly updated, and take their place at the top of the members’ hierarchy.
On the bottom left of the whiteboard is a hand-written advertisement for a women’s only class. It is to be commended that women are being acknowledged as members of the Cave and their needs are being catered for. However, this class also reinforces differences between the masculine and feminine identities. Firstly, while the normal classes are promoted as cardio, gymnastics and weight-lifting, in the women’s class, weight-lifting has been replaced with stretching. This creates the image that women do not want to lift like men, which could damage their female body and make them too masculine-looking for the dominant group’s liking. It also implies that men do not need to look after their bodies by stretching. Moreover, the use of colour distinguishes the women’s class from the other notices. While the majority of the notice board is written in black, with the occasional red underline or additional note in blue, the women’s class is written in primary and secondary colours. The alternating colours in the title suggest playfulness, which reinforces the notion that the women’s classes are less serious than those designed for the majority group. Finally, the creation of a special class for women – most likely, because the men are sweatier, noisier and might watch them working out – creates the idea that the normal classes are designed for men and their masculine ways, while women should be separated out into a special class. As with the differences in weights in Figure 2, perhaps it is not unreasonable to suggest that women should not lift as heavy weights as men. However, the workouts written for the CrossFit brand in general, as well as those written specifically for the Cave, used weight levels determined by male owners. While I found the women’s weights in the normal WOD heavy enough, I found these easier classes less challenging and exciting compared to what we usually did; indeed, the class had such little popularity amongst the female members that it lasted only a few weeks. This may also have been related to the way the more masculine classes were promoted as the ideal.
The whiteboard.
The WOD.
New class.
The other whiteboards in the room further demonstrated the differences shown towards athletes of differing strength. Firstly, a large whiteboard was screwed to the wall at the back of the room, which was used as a long-term leader board, to record the scores of particularly impressive workouts. It created permanence to the workouts performed by the ‘ideal’ athletes (see Figure 4). This board allows insight into the masculine psyche of the CrossFit brand as a whole. It may initially appear inclusive of women because the majority of the workout names, such as ‘Angie’, ‘Barbara’, ‘Annie’ and ‘Cindy,’ are female names. ‘Fran’ is widely regarded as the most difficult workout and a CrossFitter’s ‘Fran Time’ (the time taken to do this particular workout) is often used as a comparison for success amongst CrossFitters from different branches. However, the inclusion of non-masculine identities in the culture of the sport is questionable when Greg Glassman, founder of CrossFit, explains on YouTube why Fran was named as such: ‘I thought that anything that left you flat on your back looking up at the sky asking, ‘What the fuck happened to me?’ deserved a female’s name’ (CrossFit [Uploader], 2011). Coates (2013: 548) says that gender and sexuality are inextricably linked and that the features that index femininity and masculinity also index a form of ‘compulsory heterosexuality’; comments such as these are clearly aimed at the heterosexual male, while other groups’ desires are ignored. The heteronormative signage resembles findings in Baxter and Wallace’s (2009: 422) research on construction workers, where there were virtually no references to gay men, rendering them invisible. They were never aggressed in any fashion because they were ‘regarded as so non-threatening that they need not even figure in the out-group’.
Leader board.
The other boards are for the Introductory Classes (Figure 5), which significantly contrasted with the main whiteboard (Figure 1). Before beginning regular CrossFit classes, members are required to complete a 10-session introductory course, where the specific movements are taught. The lowly status of these new members, who have not yet reached the strength or experience levels of the longer-term members, is emphasized here. Not only are these boards significantly smaller than the main board but their placement in the room is in front of the elliptical rowers, which need to be shifted to make room for the introductory classes to take place. One board is seated on the floor amongst the rubbish and leaves. It is leaning, rather than permanently screwed, onto the wall. While rubbish hardly signals a linguistic intention on the part of those who contribute to it, Kallen (2010: 53) points out that this material is nevertheless indexical of those who pass through the space. Here, it is clear that beginners are seen as secondary to the main purpose of the Cave. The passing off of teaching these classes to the newest instructors further reinforced this.
Beginners’ board.
Construction of place
The signage in the Cave also leads to a construction of its place as a whole. In King’s (2013: 2) research on language and sexuality in online spaces, he says that whether online or offline, space merits a central focus in the investigation as disregarding it means ignoring its social foundations and the way that practices are woven into the seen-but-unnoticed backdrop of everyday life. I had initially been disappointed in the quality of my photographs, such as in Figure 6, finding them dull and dark. It was only upon closer inspection that I realized that they were, in fact, an accurate representation of what the place, as a whole, looked like.
The Cave entrance.
The owner had not just called his box the ‘Cave’ but he had actively recreated one. Black flags (Figure 7), which I had simply seen as supporting New Zealand sports teams and brands, whose logos happened to be black, were actually being used to block out the natural light. A large graffiti art painting of a graphic-art ‘hulk’ (Figure 8) was found bursting out of the back of the room, painted as if he lived in bright red molten rock.
Black flags.
The hulk.
So why had a cave been used as this branch’s branding? The use of the name ‘Cave’ in the title is distinctly masculine, despite women having lived in caves as much as men did. It evokes ideas such as ‘man caves’ – male spaces which women are banned from so that the men can get on with their own activities – or ‘cavemen’, who dragged women back to their caves against their will. The notion of the cave is also synonymous with a masculinity that predates feminist achievement in gaining equal rights.
In contrast to the cleaner, elite image of the CrossFit brand as a whole, the creation of the Cave at this particular branch had a sense of grunge – the darkness and dirtiness portrayed masculine brute force, rather than femininity and delicacy. The two large speakers found by the door (seen in Figure 6) were used to blast sound into the small space during classes. While the majority of members appeared to be motivated by the music, I personally found the noise – another crucial component in the construction of the overall SL – invasive and physically uncomfortable. The floor, too, was rarely cleaned, despite chalk marks covering it as the athletes noted how many repetitions they had completed during a given exercise. This matched the perception of the club from other branches of CrossFit; I heard the owner proudly state his branch was described elsewhere as ‘raw’. It was clear that the members were not to worry themselves with prettiness but rather get on, be practical, and ‘get the job done’.
Like the notion of the cave, Figure 9 is perhaps also representative of more traditional times, when there was a greater distinction between male and female roles. The tradition is emphasized in this sign through the use of painted cursive script and its poetic content. The message is to keep going even when your heart and nerve and sinew are gone and ‘there is nothing in you’. It shows that if your will is strong, you should continue even when your body is telling you to stop. It is strategically placed underneath the clock – a clock which is present in every CrossFit branch, as it is used for timing the WODs, and is therefore frequently looked at during the class. This sign is surprisingly poetic for the Cave, having taken one stanza from Rudyard Kipling’s (2009[1910]) poem ‘If –’, perhaps as a means of stirring emotion as motivation. This poem is known for evoking ‘British virtues of a “stiff upper lip” and stoicism in the face of adversity’ (Wansell, 2009) and, interestingly, finishes with the line, ‘And – which is more – you’ll be a Man, my son!’ (Kipling, 2009[1910]: 90). While the reference to ‘my son’ is literal (Wansell, 2009), the concept of standing up against adversity as a means of growing into a man is interesting in this context.
Hold on!
Construction of compliance
The theme of discipline is common in discussion of hegemonic masculinity, and certain signs within the Cave are specifically designed to discipline its members and enforce compliance with the ideal. Trujillo (1991: 295) says sport and work independently play a role in producing hegemonic masculinity, so the idea of discipline in sport is particularly salient as it constructs a powerful combination of sport as work. He says sport is linked to work in the way that athletes do not ‘play’ sport – they work out or train, and they have to work harder if they want to win. Achievement and successful performance are primary definers of masculinity.
In the CrossFit Cave, discipline firstly comes in the form of self-control over diet, pushing the body to continue working when it gets difficult, and maintaining a regular workout routine. CrossFit USA promotes ‘The Caveman or Paleolithic Model for Nutrition’ (CrossFit, nd), a strict diet which excludes refined carbohydrates, dairy, sugar and legumes. Figure 10 begins with an outline of what CrossFitters should eat.
World Class Fitness in 100 words.
This sign is printed directly onto the wall, making it a more permanent feature than the whiteboard notices or movable posters. It also signalled the Cave’s membership as a worldwide member of CrossFit, as CrossFitters recognize this sign as being written by Glassman (CrossFit, nd).
Discipline is also seen in the World Class Fitness board in terms of the frequency and quantity of exercise it suggests an athlete should do each week. As a CrossFitter, I found it easier to socialize only with other CrossFitters in order to maintain this disciplined diet and exercise regime, meaning total commitment to the sport was encouraged, and those who did not commit were excluded. Finally, the message ‘routine is the enemy’ implies militaristic definitions of discipline and following orders.
Figure 11 is even stronger in issuing compliance of its members, and was specific to the Cave. Firstly, a faint image of a person wearing a shirt with Asian script on the back can be seen behind the text. In the context of a sporting facility, this connotes the discipline and skill required for the martial arts associated with Japan.
The Cave rules.
The rules themselves strongly advocate disciplining the mind to push on when the body wants to stop further through a number of rules, such as ‘No excuses!’, and ‘If you are scared of hard work, sweat, blood and possibly vomit, then CrossFit is not for you.’ Messner (1990: 208) says that athletes may have their masculinity called into question if they submit to pain in sport and refuse to sacrifice their bodies in order to win, resulting in violence against their own bodies. Curry (1993: 274) found that athletes often normalize injuries and continue to play while hurt as they prove their ‘manhood’. However, the result of this ‘body-as-weapon’ (Messner, 1990) is that ‘ex-athletes often live with damaged bodies and chronic pain, and die early’ (Connell, 2005: 58). While the message at CrossFit to push past the pain levels until blood and vomit results is hyperbolic, it nevertheless clearly tells CrossFitters that they should push on past the pain levels, even when their bodies indicate that it is time to stop.
Related to the concept of discipline, is the idea of disciplining, which is how compliance is achieved. In Rule 14, anyone scared of blood and vomit will find that CrossFit is not for them. Exclusion, even metaphorically, is the consequence for failing to meet the requirements. Connell (2005: 167) points out that negative examples are just as important for maintaining the masculine hierarchy as outlining the expectations. He says insults such as ‘nerd’ and ‘wimp’ are common examples of feminizing school-age boys by highlighting the features that do not meet the hegemonic ideal. Men who are considered weak, particularly in the sporting world, are often labelled as ‘women’, ‘fags’ or ‘pussies’ (Messner, 2005: 317), thereby classing them in the same position in the dominance hierarchy as women and homosexual men. At CrossFit, the consequence of lacking commitment is being shifted to the out-group. In Rule 7, cheats are insulted – the term ‘COCK’ is used as an insult towards those who are not tough enough to complete the activities properly. While, like Messner’s examples, it uses sexual connotations, the difference is that by using a male body part, it implies a male as the victim of the insult. This is perhaps to show that strong CrossFit men are hierarchically above ordinary men. It also strongly positions the CrossFit audience as male.
The concept of exclusion is particularly interesting in the context of this research. While most SL research is in the public domain, by analysing the Cave, the signage takes place in a gym that requires membership for access. Therefore, we see the potential for exclusion that may not exist in the same manner in an ordinary public setting. Moreover, these rules signal that while access can be achieved through paying membership fees, it does not necessarily signal full inclusion into the group.
Next, inferred violence for non-compliance of the rules, such as ‘you DONT [sic] want to agitate the coaches’, echoes the construction of masculinity in boys’ rugby teams in Light and Kirk’s (2000) research. They found that past rugby players were respected ‘in terms of their physical size, their strength, aggression and the fear that they engendered’ (p. 167) and that rather than resenting bullies in the school, senior students regarded their experiences of being bullied as juniors as positively significant in the construction of their masculinities (p. 168). Messner (1990: 206) says that sport is often used as a way of constructing meaning around acts of aggression and violence, particularly because sport is often a public spectacle. Similarly, insults cast on other men, such as those concerning sexual orientation in Crawford’s (2003: 1423–1424) research, are deemed to be not only about masculinity, but are also sustained performances of masculinity. The signage in this section follows the same concept: while the author of the signs performs a dominant masculine identity as coach and task-master, he simultaneously dominates the subordinate in his expectations of them. Moreover, the inclusion of the Cave’s logo – a red image of a skull, where dripping paint is made to look like blood – signifies violence. As a CrossFitter, I interpreted the red skull as synonymous with the owner’s presence. It was found throughout the Cave, such as on the pillar in Figure 8. The owner created the skull branding and referred to it from time to time, including through the naming of one of the branch’s competitive teams ‘The Red Skulls’. The inclusion of his logo in the signage was akin to him leaving his mark.
Interestingly, despite the two rules signs being displayed next to each other and both being a similar size, the concepts in the ‘CAVE RULES’ are perhaps more clearly understood as rules than those in its neighbouring ‘World Class Fitness in 100 Words’. This could be for a number of reasons, some of which I attribute to the visual modes present in the boards. Firstly, signs may have conventional text structures and layouts for their genre (Stroud and Mpendukana, 2009: 374). The CAVE RULES board fits our concept of what rules should look like, with a capitalized ‘rules’ title, followed by a numbered list of rules, in comparison with three written paragraphs, which perhaps better fit our concept of someone’s philosophy of fitness.
Each board uses a sans-serif font, which delivers the message in a straightforward, no-nonsense manner. However, the title of the rules is in stencilled lettering, which connotes the printing that would be found on military-issued equipment, while the non-capitalized heading for the second board connotes a more banal text. Similarly, capital letters are used to emphasize words such as ‘WILL’ and ‘DONT’ [sic] in the CAVE RULES board, which are indicative of shouting, while standard capitalization is used throughout the World Class Fitness board.
The framing and colouring similarly make THE CAVE RULES board more easily seen and, therefore, more salient than the World Class Fitness board. Its dominant black wooden board, screwed into the wall and allowing it to protrude, dominates the area. Comparatively, the flat lettering and lack of frame on the World Class Fitness board makes it disappear into the grey paint behind it. However, the red and white type on the CAVE RULES board shows high modality in its high black and white contrast and highly saturated red colour. According to Kress and Van Leeuwen (1996: 159), highly saturated, exaggerated colours are ‘more than real’ compared to less saturated colours, such as the low-contrast grey background in the World Class Fitness sign, which could be interpreted as ‘less than real’, ‘ethereal’ or ‘ghostly’. The ‘interpersonal meaning’ of the bright colour (p. 229) is used like a hazard warning sign to members, indicating their compulsory compliance to the message.
Considering the content of the board, the owner’s practices appeared to more closely align to his CAVE RULES board than to Greg Glassman’s World Class Fitness rules. Rules about technique featured on the CAVE RULES board, and questions about technique could be answered enthusiastically by the coach. However, the World Class Fitness board began with rules on diet and my questions to the coach regarding this diet were redirected to one of the female coaches. In turn, it seemed as if many of the CrossFitters, particularly the men, were more interested in following rules on pushing through pain barriers than they were in following strict rules on diet. I argue that the stricter adherence and visual salience of the CAVE RULES signage may also be related to those rules helping form a masculine body, whereas the visually less important rules concerning diet may be better suited for creating a smaller, more feminine body. This leads to my argument that the signage contributed to the construction of the CrossFitters’ bodies.
Creation of the body
It may be strange to use up one’s spare time and pay good money to participate in leisure activities where the owner has such dominance over its members – and earlier I described my participation in this box as ‘entertainment’. Personally, I did enjoy the camaraderie of the box, the competition and the physical activity; the dominating rules felt as though they were designed to help me succeed at achieving my sporting goals. However, when I am honest with myself, my main motivation for joining CrossFit seemed to be in line with many others there: I wanted to create an ‘ideal’ body – fit, strong and carrying little fat. While this desire was created from outside the box before I began, signage within it certainly catered to people with similar motivations to mine.
Posters from the official CrossFit USA brand were hung up (Figures 12 and 13), demonstrating what ideal CrossFitters should look like. They performed the movements correctly, and their lack of clothing revealed strong, toned bodies. In many pictures of people in general, the subject looks directly at the viewer and ‘makes contact’ with them or ‘demands’ a reaction from them (Jewitt and Oyama, 2001: 119; Kress and Van Leeuwen, 1996). However, in these two posters, the athletes have been de-individuated as their faces are either turned away from the camera, or are blurred. The invisibility of the athletes’ faces implies that their bodies are the only relevant feature the audience should care about. However, I realized that I most often stared at the poster of the women. By not seeing their faces, I was able to project myself into the images; in a sense, these posters were a means of realizing my own desires to create my own ideal CrossFit body. Furthermore, by promoting the ideal body as the ultimate achievement, these posters promoted a sense of individualism as the ultimate goal. While the athletes seen here are working out together, just as in the WODs, emphasis is on the individual getting the fastest time, the highest weights or the fittest body. Even the team events relied on individual points being combined to get the team’s overall score.
Reebok CrossFit poster: wall-balls.
Reebok CrossFit poster: weight-lifting.
These posters also reinforce masculine and feminine hierarchies: the men take on the active role of throwing balls and lifting weights, while the women’s more passive role of catching balls allows the audience to look at their backsides as they squat. The centralized and upright position of the male athlete in the wall-ball poster shows him as the leader of the group. Moreover, while the poster containing the women was at eye-level, it is clear from the shape of the photograph in Figure 13, that it was taken from a low-angle. This creates a sense of weakness on the viewers’ part – particularly for those who are as short as I am – who have to look up at the images. While the meaning of the high placement of the poster may not be to intimidate, Jewitt (2001: 135) says that it is unlikely that low-angle views can ever make the subject appear insignificant.
The bodies of CrossFitters within the box also formed a kind of signage of their own, as the practices become ‘embodied’. Branded t-shirts were not only encouraged by the owner as a form of income and free marketing, but were picked up on by the members who wanted to show affiliation to the box. I proudly wore my ‘Beast Wars’ t-shirt as a sign of having competed in one of the branch’s inter-club competitions.
Butler (1993: 2) argues that the materialization of the body is performative of gender and, indeed, CrossFit bodies and clothing showed the differences between male and female bodies in the Cave. Emblazoned with ‘KNOW PAIN, KNOW GAIN’, the owner’s t-shirt in Figure 14 continued to reinforce the message that members should push their bodies past the limits while working out – not just once, but to the point where they ‘know’ the feeling well. Moreover, the owner’s bulky, masculine shoulders and defined body showed what could be achieved if the message was taken on board (and his body was often viewed favourably by many women at the Cave).
Know pain, know gain.
The concept of embodiment is somewhat more complicated for the women. Milani (2013b: 14) found that size availability of gender-specific t-shirts creates normative assumptions about what size and shape each gender’s body should be. Indeed, the female Cave t-shirts indicated that the ideal feminine body should be small. However, tensions existed with women who participated in the regular classes being encouraged to lift heavier weights, leading to broader shoulders, flatter chests and generally more physically masculine shapes. The most coveted female t-shirt slogan for many of us women – ‘Harden Up, Princess’ – used the feminine appellation and pink-coloured text ironically, and perhaps further pushed us to act in a more masculine manner, in line with the messages of pushing through pain levels found elsewhere in the box.
Re-construction of the self
My final image, which was found outside at the turn-around point of a sprint course, sums up many of the themes of hegemonic masculinity discussed in this article. It contains violent language, with its derogatory swear word ‘MOFO’s’ [sic], the insistence of personal discipline and continuing to push on with the run, and the coach’s dominant and militaristic imperative order. Yet its hyperbolic dominance created humour through irony.
Run MOFO’s! [Mother fuckers].
The use of chalk for this sign indicates its lack of permanence; this means that as I ran past it I was vaguely aware of its author, and assumed it was the Cave owner who had written the sign that morning. On reflection, I realized that this, combined with its placement outside the walls of the Cave, meant that the owner’s authority to make me run was ever-present, and his dominance could be exerted whether I could see him or not.
The humour of the sign is also relevant to this analysis. Domination can be expressed through what Campbell (2000: 573) describes as ‘conversational cockfighting’. He says playful teasing and banter have a competitive nature which, on the surface, are sociable, yet they have a deeper side where the participants have a high-stakes risk of losing face. This is compatible with Crawford’s (2003: 1427) view that humour is often used for gender construction. Here, as with the CAVE RULES in Figure 11, underlying the humour is a clear message of how an ideal CrossFitter should behave.
This sign also summed up for me the importance of this research. The themes listed above leave me confident to conclude that SL research is useful in critically examining gendered messages in the monolingual signage of a given area. Strong forms of masculine domination were present in this data. This picture also highlights how the structures are hegemonic. I laughed when I saw it written in the middle of a run, and found it motivational to run harder. Before doing this research, I had been oblivious to the power structures within the CrossFit Cave, because they had, indeed, been designed to be taken for granted. However, Gorter (2006b: 1) tells us we are not always aware of the language that surrounds us. By the end of this research, the signage and research had reconstructed my identity; I no longer felt there was a place for me as a female CrossFitter at this particular branch. I moved my membership elsewhere, before quitting CrossFit altogether, much to the surprise of many people who knew me.
However, I should not be too hasty in singling out the owner for creating masculine hierarchies in his Cave. Firstly, some of the signage in this box has been adapted from or directly sent by the CrossFit USA brand of the sport. More to the point, however, is that my desire to create my ‘ideal’ CrossFit body, as was no doubt the case for many other members of the box, was instilled in me before joining. The ‘stiff upper lip’ virtue of strong men was evidenced in a poem written early last century. Blommaert (2013: 3) describes physical space as a historical space, ‘full of codes, expectations, norms and traditions’. Therefore, while the signage I have presented is representative of this small space, the enforcement of masculine hierarchies in the Cave has been influenced by existing views of the body, how we should treat it, and how we regard others who do not treat it in the same manner; these ideas were created long before the signs within the Cave. However, not only did the signage in this box play its part in reinforcing these hegemonic ideals but the owner also deliberately defined the Cave as dark and grungy in order to differentiate itself both from other gyms and even other CrossFit boxes.
Conclusion
This analysis has added to the newer literature in SL research, which is moving away from solely analysing power structures in bilingual, outdoor and public environments, such as those in traditional LL research. It is clear from this research that gendered discourses of hegemonic masculinity can be found in the semiotic aggregates of an indoor, semi-private, monolingual environment. Furthermore, through using an autoethnographic approach, this research changed my own perception of an environment that I had been visiting very regularly. My oblivion at the hierarchies present in the signage is testament to the fact that hegemony relies on our perception that the dominant messages are ‘just the way things are’. Signage may aim to structure the classes and the space but, consequently, it may also structure the practices and bodies of those who interact with the signage. The hegemonic structures may be hidden behind humour or a motivational message to become the ideal CrossFitter, yet they aid the marginalization of other, less masculine groups. Finally, while this SL research was unusual in its analysis of an indoor, semi-private (membered) space, the messages within the walls may be representative of wider societal views found outside the walls and may exclude certain readers despite their physical presence.
Footnotes
Acknowledgements
I would like to thank Martin Paviour-Smith, Michael Belgrave, Diana Wood and two anonymous reviewers for their helpful comments on drafts of this paper.
Funding
This research received no specific grant from any funding agency in the public, commercial, or not-for-profit sectors.
Biographical Note
Address: Department of Linguistics, Massey University, Private Bag 201 904, North Shore MSC, Auckland, New Zealand. [email: