In the super middleweight division, the belt holder had an advantage that no champion in the state-of-the-art era has enjoyed. Four titles. Guaranteed events. No pressure to take risks. This leverage could have been used to bring in juvenile players and add depth to the division. Instead, it was spent on a controlled defense that protected the brand’s value while leaving the broader field untouched.
Names tell a story. Edgar Berlanga got a chance for the title, but he did not prove himself against elite competition. Jaime Munguia arrived with a bang but came out lackluster. William Scull signed up as a low-risk mandatory. Jermell Charlo, a 154-pounder, was elevated for commercial reasons, not divisional logic. John Ryder was tough, accessible and non-threatening.
None of these fights were scandalous in themselves. This is a problem. Taken individually, each defense may be valid. Taken together, they reveal a pattern: containment rather than cultivation.
How the Challenger pipeline was shut down
Newborn fighters at the age of 168 have never received the oxygen that only fighting in tents can provide. Without this exposure, they couldn’t build leverage. Without leverage they couldn’t create the opportunity. The division did not advance – it simply circled.
In the middleweight division, he suffered the same fate, but in a calmer form.
It has been a holding company for 160 years. The masters waited. The players waited. Potential unifications were never equal. The fighters fluctuated between weight classes, looking for opportunities rather than dominance. Without a clear center of gravity, the division lost its urgency.
What should have been a prolific pool of talent at 160-168 has instead become a dead zone. The fighters either went up too early, came down too overdue, or stayed put with nothing to aim at.
This isn’t about blaming one player for everything. It’s about recognizing how power shapes ecosystems. When a dominant champion repeatedly chooses safety, the cost isn’t just the thrill of competition – it’s developmental stagnation.
In well divisions, champions cause friction. They force challengers to rise or fall. They establish reference points. In the super middleweight division, that friction is gone. The belts remained energetic, but the division did not evolve.
This stagnation now has consequences. There are many talented players in the group of 168 players, but few have a recognizable profile. At 160 there are capable operators, but there is no clear hierarchy. Fans sense change, even if they don’t express it. The divisions appear to be on hold rather than competitive.
When mandates become the only movement
This is why mandatory challengers are starting to matter more in boxing. When voluntary ambition disappears, duty becomes the only remaining source of movement. Sanctioning authorities force fights not because they want to, but because without pressure nothing happens.
The irony is that the damage is not constant. One or two truly dicey matchups would immediately change the temperature. However, this requires a move away from risk management and towards division building – something that state-of-the-art boxing has largely abandoned.
Middleweight and super middleweight are not dead divisions. They are dormant. And dormancy is not due to lack of talent. This is due to lack of opportunities.
Until this changes, both weight classes will remain exactly where they are now: energetic on paper, stalled in reality.