Australia is experiencing what many observers have described as a “concussion crisis”: a period of intense debate about the merits of contact sport, driven by concerns about the potential for repetitive brain trauma to cause long term neurological damage in athletes. Australia is not unique in this sense, many other nations around the globe are clearly concerned about concussion and there has been a proliferation of research aimed at fixing the problem.

Australia is unique in that it has four popular and violent football codes, which are played not only by professionals but also recreational athletes. This includes a growing population of women, at all levels of participation. Per capita, it is reasonable to argue that Australians have more opportunities to participate in brain-shaking sports than any other nation.

The Australian concussion crisis is further distinguished by the influence of its distinct version(s) of masculinity, which have traditionally eschewed displays of vulnerability and intellectualism – both of which are requisite features for those who have attempted over the past 100 years to mitigate the risks of concussion through research, advocacy, and policy change. This paper examines how Australian notions of athletic masculinity have stymied efforts to address this health crisis in a meaningful way.

The cultural visibility of traumatic brain injury (TBI) sustained in men’s collision and combat sports has contributed to women being historically excluded from many public conversations about these injuries. Gendered assumptions operating within science and medicine have reinforced this disparity. Recent efforts aimed at addressing the systemic inattention to TBI among women have entailed documenting neurological injuries sustained by women, often through studies of athletes. This paper reflects on attempts to remedy the lack of attention to women’s TBI, highlighting how they involve the production of new knowledge and non-knowledge—that is, absences of information about gendered bodies, which carry over into how we understand health and well-being. This analysis considers how such efforts often revolve around limited conceptions of women’s bodies (and brains) as inherently distinct from men’s bodies (and brains). This distinction informs the ‘enactment’ of female TBI, which is a category created through scientific practice that is often represented as a specific condition distinct from male TBI. It tends to focus on biological attributes understood as inherent. Although well intended, female TBI often evokes narrow, binary constructions of sex and gender, with sex and gender emerge as separate—albeit related—variables. This paper considers how some researchers are trying to better capture “sex/gender” dynamics, which acknowledge the unavoidable entanglement of biological and social factors. These interconnections of the biological and social are shaped by historical contexts and social structures. As sex/gender is experienced by distinct groups of people, it remains an ongoing challenge for TBI science.

The recognition that neurological illnesses can result from repeated head trauma was initially shaped by the colloquial terms used to describe the condition: “punch-drunk,” “slugnutty,” “slaphappy,” “goofy,” “punchy,” and many other phrases tied to class-based stereotypes. These labels reflected more than just medical observations—they were imbued with societal judgments about failure and ridicule. The individuals affected were often seen as “losers”—in boxing, in life, and in general—and their suffering became a source of humor rather than concern. To medicalize their condition was to challenge a cultural narrative that dismissed them as mere punchlines. Despite this resistance, a nascent understanding of the pathology began to take root. It emerged first within the medical community, gradually permeated journalism, found expression in legal disputes, and ultimately surfaced in the voices of patients themselves. This process—spanning science, media, law, and personal testimony—represents the evolution of a cultural shift: from mocking caricatures to a more empathetic acknowledgment of injury and disease.

Over the past decade in the United States, public awareness of the risks of concussion in collision sports has created a burgeoning market for various devices advertised as protecting athletes’ brains. One of most striking examples is the Q collar, which claims to reduce “brain slosh” by constricting users’ jugular veins so that a smaller amount of blood leaves the head. Independent physiologists, physicians and researchers have argued that this mechanism is not physiologically plausible to prevent brain injury in humans. Nonetheless, based on company-funded studies, in 2021 the U.S. Food and Drug Administration (FDA) authorized marketing of this device to athletes aged 13 and older. Although the FDA’s authorization emphasizes that “data do not demonstrate that the device can prevent concussion or serious head injury,” the creators of the Q collar contend that their product can reduce the risks of repetitive head impacts in sports. The Q collar is just one of a bevy of pieces of equipment, dietary supplements, and other products that purport to protect the brains of athletes ranging from the youth level all the way to professional leagues. These products may create a false sense of security among athletes and their parents. They also raise important questions about the processes by which evidence is generated and marshalled in service of “brain protection” devices.