It’s time to count out pro child boxers

Many citizens understandably regard the venerable sport of muay thai a national treasure to be cherished with pride and preserved. It evolved with some slight variations in countries across mainland Southeast Asia, but it was Thailand that introduced it to the world. We have thus developed a sense of ownership, ensuring that it’s globally known as muay thai, not muay lao or muay khmer.
What’s been happening lately, however, lends Thai kickboxing an almost overshadowing sense of shame. Revelations and admissions have been made about the business aspects of the sport – and especially about young participants being grievously injured and even killed. It’s triggered a national debate about this blood sport’s dark underbelly.
It has long been known that the agents and organisers shrug off the brutality and other negative aspects and focus on profits and popularity contests. The damage done to child boxers is downplayed and occasional calls for children to be barred from the ring ignored. No government has yet mustered the political will to force stricter regulations on the sport, even if everyone agrees that the younger combatants must be better protected.
Calls for stricter controls have roused again following the recent death of 13-year-old Anucha Kochana from head injuries sustained in a muay thai bout. Legislation aimed at strengthening protections is currently before the National Assembly, but the boxing establishment is vehemently opposed to it.
One estimate suggests there are more than 10,000 registered boxers under the age of 15 in Thailand, some as young as eight. It’s understood that a lot of these kids aren’t boxing out of love for the sport but rather seeking to lift their families out of poverty. The motivation is heartbreaking and worthy of empathy, but it is also dangerous and ultimately unjustifiable.
Child boxers are particularly vulnerable to lasting brain damage. It was claimed at the recent World Conference on Injury Prevention and Safety Promotion, for example that 3 per cent of child boxers develop learning disabilities. The director of Ramathibodi Hospital’s Advanced Diagnostic Imaging Centre warned of lower IQ and increased risk of Alzheimer’s and Parkinson’s in adulthood. Aside from all this, putting children in the ring to entertain adults and feed the gambling frenzy amounts to child labour, which is universally illegal.
Like any sport, training in martial arts can build muscle and vigour in children and instil discipline. Such benefits are cast aside, though, when they climb into the ring without essential protective gear. Thais must ask how it is defensible to take such chances with young lives. And consider that barring children from professional boxing would not stop them from learning the martial art. 
Anucha reportedly racked up more than 170 matches since age eight – almost three fights a month. The people involved in boxing who speak fondly about preserving an important component of our cultural heritage should perhaps ask themselves if they would proudly let their own children maintain such a rigorous schedule, facing danger at every turn. Let’s stop putting kids at unnecessary risk, especially poor kids, and instead invest all of our effort in their education, their safety and their financial wellbeing.