The scraggly, untamed beards that sprout across hockey players' faces during the Stanley Cup playoffs are more than just a superstition; they're a fascinating case study in cultural evolution, according to University of Alberta anthropologist Andre Costopoulos.
The journey of the playoff beard from non-existence to ubiquitous tradition offers valuable insights into how cultural norms emerge, spread and even transform, Costopoulos says.
"I always use this as an example of culture change, a cultural evolution that people are familiar with," says Costopoulos. "It's something that has changed because there was a time when there was no such thing as a playoff beard, and now it's everywhere."
To understand this transformation, Costopoulos highlights two key factors: environmental change and innovation. Initially, the environment of the NHL playoffs simply didn't allow for the widespread adoption of the tradition. Until the late 1960s, the playoffs consisted of just two short rounds, often compressed within a two-week timeframe. This brevity meant that even if players had considered growing beards, the visual impact would have been minimal.
However, as the league expanded and the playoff structure evolved to include three and then four longer rounds with more breaks between games, the "environmental" conditions ripened for a more noticeable trend. Players now had the time for significant beard growth to occur throughout their team's playoff journey.
But a suitable environment alone wasn't enough. An innovation was needed to spark the tradition. Costopoulos points to the 1980 New York Islanders as the likely trendsetters. Before that year, he says, photographic evidence of Stanley Cup playoff games shows virtually no players sporting beards.
The catalyst appears to be the influence of two Swedish players on the Islanders who admired the tradition of Swedish tennis champion Bjorn Borg. Borg famously refrained from shaving during major tournaments. These hockey players — forward Anders Kallur and rearguard Stefan Persson — seemingly adopted this practice, and their teammates followed suit.
"So there's an action and then there's cultural transmission," says Costopoulos. "The trait starts to spread."
That spread was further amplified by the Islanders' remarkable success, which included four consecutive Stanley Cups before the team surrendered the mantle to the Wayne Gretzky-led Edmonton Oilers in 1984.
This success likely fuelled what anthropologists call "prestige" or "success-biased transmission." Other players and teams observed the Islanders' beards coinciding with their victories, leading to imitation. The thinking might have been, "They're doing it and they're winning, so maybe we should too, just in case."
By the early 2000s, the playoff beard had transitioned from a localized practice to a widespread phenomenon. What began as a possible tribute to a tennis star and a team-bonding ritual had become an ingrained part of hockey culture, with both fans and players growing their facial hair in support of their team.
Costopoulos notes that the very success of the playoff beard tradition may now be leading to a subtle shift. As beards have become more common in general society and even among players year-round, it's becoming harder to distinguish a dedicated playoff beard.
"If you look at a player, it's hard to say, is it a playoff beard or is it just a beard?" he observes.
This decreased visibility could potentially diminish the tradition's significance over time, leading to a possible change in its frequency. "Evolution is a change in frequency of traits over time," he explains.
Similarly, the rise of beards in general society, potentially influenced by their prominence in hockey and other sports by the early 2000s and 2010s, illustrates how a trend originating in a specific context can spread and become more generalized. Although Costopoulos warns correlation doesn't equal causation, the timeline suggests a possible influence.
Even fighting in hockey has changed due to an environmental change, says Costopoulos, with the introduction of the instigator rule in 1992. This extra two-minute penalty assessed to the combatant who starts the fight led to an innovative behaviour: players circling each other with dangling gloves to ensure they have a willing combatant before mayhem ensues. This new tactic, virtually non-existent before the rule change, became more prevalent as players adapted to the new environment.
The environment changes, an innovation happens once, probably by chance, and then it gets selected into the population and starts to increase in frequency.
"If you look at footage of hockey fights from the '60s, '70s or '80s, they just drop their gloves and they start," notes Costopoulos. "That new behaviour was innovative in that new environment, and it spread because it was a successful behaviour. From there the new behaviour increases in frequency because cultural transmission took over."
