Trauma is not a new phenomenon. It has existed throughout history, wearing different masks and leaving lasting scars on individuals and societies. While the nature of trauma looks like it has shifted over time, its impact remains profound, particularly on the most vulnerable among us. A sad observation, to me, appears that types of trauma trend, like just about everything else. From the blood-soaked arenas of ancient Rome to the boundless platforms of modern social media, the narrative of trauma has had many voices—but its essence continues to echo through people and their stories. As someone who has experienced trauma, both through adverse childhood events, and being the victim of crime as an adult, I will never not be drawn to other people who share their stories. Having spent time working with Orwell Prize winning author, Darren McGarvey AKA Loki, working on a poster for his Fringe show in Edinburgh this year on Trauma, I realised there was something jarring in the visual portrayal of trauma as physical wounds. It got me thinking about history and our bloodthirsty nature as Humans. Would we be as interested and obsessed with consuming someone’s trauma story if they bled as you watched? I’m not sure we have the digestive constitution of the Romans!

The Roman Colosseum was a stage for brutal entertainment, where gladiators faced off in fierce combat for the amusement of the masses. These individuals often came from society's margins, including enslaved people, prisoners of war, and criminals. Their suffering and survival in the amphitheatre stood not only as a testament to their physical endurance but as a reflection of societal dynamics.

Gladiators bore visible scars of trauma, their battered bodies a constant reminder of the violence that both defined their role and ensured their survival. Yet, paradoxically, many were celebrated, even revered, for their bravery and skill. They were symbols of virtues like courage and discipline, an embodiment of Roman martial ideals. However, their recognition came with its own form of imprisonment. These "heroes" were confined to their cells, brought out only to entertain and bleed for the crowd's satisfaction. They were either glorified or vilified, their identity dictated by the whims of society.

This spectacle was not solely about entertainment but also a method of mass distraction. The games served political and social purposes, allowing powerful individuals to display their generosity, distract the populace from pressing societal issues, and reinforce the might of the Roman Empire.

Yet, beneath this grandeur lay the raw reality of physical trauma. The gladiatorial arena was a visceral reminder of how the vulnerable bore the weight of society's thirst for spectacle.

Fast forward to today, and the arena looks vastly different. Gone are the sands of the amphitheatre; instead, we find ourselves seated in the Colosseum of social media platforms. While modern society shuns overt physical violence for entertainment, it often revels in a different kind of spectacle—that of psychological trauma.

Trauma today frequently takes an invisible form, yet its impact is no less devastating. Survivors of abuse, systemic injustice, or personal crises often find themselves "imprisoned" by their narratives. Much like the gladiators, their stories can be wielded and shaped by others to fit societal expectations or serve agendas.

The vulnerable are still at the centre of this. Those experiencing psychological trauma are often thrust into the spotlight, either through their own sharing or societal exposure. Recognition in this "modern Colosseum" can be both empowering and alienating. Some trauma survivors are celebrated for their resilience and courage, while others are scrutinised or dismissed, as their stories are interpreted and amplified by those with greater societal influence.

Perhaps most alarming is society's inability to "look away." Social media is a double-edged sword, offering connection and awareness while perpetuating cycles of scrutiny and judgement. Much like the Roman audience, we gather in digital spaces to observe, comment, and sometimes exploit the pain of others.

What unites these two eras is the communal aspect of trauma. The Romans shared physical trauma as public spectacle, often creating a sense of collective identity through their participation in gladiatorial games. Modern societies similarly connect through shared experiences of psychological trauma, whether in empathising with survivors or debating their stories online.

The key difference lies in the form of trauma endured and the medium through which it is consumed. The gladiator's suffering was tangible, visible in every scar and broken bone. Modern psychological trauma, while less visible, is no less consuming for those who endure it. Both forms of trauma are shaped and sustained by societal structures that exploit the vulnerability of individuals.

There is also a marked difference in the autonomy of the person sharing their story. The Gladiators would have been pulled on to the stage regardless of how they felt, but today, we may not know of the trauma someone has experienced unless they share their story.

The spectacle of suffering, be it physical or psychological, seems to hold an irresistible allure. It raises a troubling question about human nature and societal priorities. Are we drawn to these spectacles out of a need to process our own existential fears? Or are we simply caught up in a cycle of distraction, much like Roman audiences were diverted from political and economic issues by the grand games?

Just as the Roman elite used gladiatorial games as a form of propaganda, modern narratives surrounding trauma are often curated and controlled by those with influence, from media outlets to social media algorithms. The result is a persistent and often morbid fascination with suffering, sometimes at the expense of meaningful support for those experiencing it.

To break free from this metaphorical Colosseum, society must learn to view trauma not as a spectacle but as a call to action. Acknowledging the humanity of both Roman gladiators and modern trauma survivors is key to dismantling the structures that perpetuate their suffering.

If we simply cannot avoid consuming trauma narratives as passive spectators, we should seek ways to support survivors meaningfully. Whether through advocacy, education, or simply listening without judgement, we can transform the way trauma is perceived and addressed.

The comparison between Roman physical trauma and modern psychological trauma reveals unsettling parallels in how societies have exploited the vulnerable for entertainment and distraction. From ancient amphitheatres to digital feeds, the human story of suffering, recognition, and resilience remains a constant thread.

The question, however, remains the same across time: when will we stop being spectators and start building a society that uplifts rather than consumes those most in need of care?

Darren's Fringe show runs from 1st to 12th August at the Stand. His book can be pre-ordered on Amazon for publication on August 14th.