On Monday, news broke that one of the most iconic stars in the history of the Ultimate Fighting Championship – former light heavyweight champion Chuck Liddell, once one of the pillars of the UFC’s explosion into the American sports mainstream – had been arrested for domestic violence.

Liddell claims he was the victim, and time will tell whether or not he will be vindicated. But Liddell’s arrest was a capper on what has been a brutal few weeks for mixed martial artists being arrested on similar such charges – in Domestic Violence Awareness Month, no less.

Liddell’s arrest in Los Angeles came two days after UFC fighter Luis Pena was arrested in Deerfield Beach, Florida for battery and domestic violence. The afro-wearing lightweight known as “Violent Bob Ross” was previously arrested back in June on robbery and battery charges after a violent incident with his girlfriend – the charges were later dropped after she elected not to pursue them further.

UFC legend Jon Jones, currently the No. 2 ranked pound-for-pound male fighter in the organization, was the subject of a very high-profile arrest on blood-curdling domestic violence charges a few weeks ago, just hours after his UFC Hall of Fame induction. (I made the case last week that the UFC must release him.) Another very troubled fighter, former fan-favorite UFC middleweight Jason “Mayhem” Miller, was arrested on felony domestic violence about a month ago, capping what has been a very difficult-to-watch descent since the end of his fighting career.

It’s been a bad run. And the UFC’s response to this has been telling: nothing. Nothing on Liddell, who has maintained a very public role with the organization since his retirement as an active competitor. Nothing on Pena, who last fought in April and is scheduled to appear in court Sunday. And only the barest minimum on Jones, who is such a big star that he couldn’t be ignored entirely – at a press conference, UFC president Dana White only offered insultingly bullshit comments about how Jones needs to stop drinking and how Las Vegas isn’t good for him.

And on and on we go. The UFC is reaching a reckoning point that other major professional sports have reached in the recent past, when their domestic violence policies were publicly tested and found severely wanting.

The NFL instituted stricter domestic violence penalties after the arrest of Ray Rice in 2014, and an ensuing two-game suspension that earned massive amounts of outrage. The MLB followed suit a year later, and so did the NBA when it negotiated its next collective bargaining agreement. The UFC has no such policy on the books, and it’s just another illustration of how backwards the organization truly is.

In 2014, White made a statement that his organization had “always” had a zero-tolerance policy towards domestic violence. And although a couple fighters were released after being arrested for violent offenses in the years after that – featherweight Will Chope later that year, lightweight Michael Graves in 2016 – it’s since become apparent that was a bullshit PR statement in the immediate aftermath of the Rice incident.

In fact, the UFC has since become a haven of accused domestic abusers. Jones and Pena are still employed. Mike Perry suffered no consequences after a 2020 allegation from his ex-wife, along with a host of other arrests. In 2014, White said top light heavyweight contender Anthony “Rumble” Johnson would never fight in the UFC again after being arrested for domestic violence against the mother of his children – he was back in the Octagon four months later. The UFC even tried to bring back Thiago Silva after some especially harrowing allegations that same fall, only to finally give in and release him after his ex-wife posted audio and video from the incident on YouTube.

Then there’s the case of Greg Hardy, who stands as constant proof that the UFC doesn’t give a shit about this. Hardy was the sequel to Ray Rice, a star NFL player who lost his job after very bad, very credible domestic violence allegations. And when the UFC saw the chance to make a buck off Hardy, they jumped at the chance.

Hardy has spent the last three years as a mediocre UFC heavyweight and a walking insult to several UFC fighters who have actually been the victims of domestic violence, including flyweight Andrea Lee and the now-released Rachael Ostovich. It’s evident that the UFC sees his past as a non-issue. That, in and of itself, is an issue.

The UFC had to fight not just for legitimacy in its early years, but for its very existence: forced to stage shows in places like Dothan, Alabama and Bay St. Louis, Mississippi after it was described as “human cockfighting” and no athletic commission would sanction it. Decades later, the sport of mixed martial arts is commonly perceived as nasty and brutish in many places.

And by continuing to have such a cavalier attitude towards athletes with histories of domestic violence, the UFC feeds into that perception, and continues to hold the sport back. As long as this attitude holds, it’s clear that the UFC does not care about the wellbeing of mixed martial arts as a whole – just the wellbeing of its bottom line.

Of course, if you’ve been paying attention, you already knew that. The UFC could start by purging the malcontents from its current roster, and creating a new policy barring violators from the organization. It should happen. But is an escalating series of similar crimes enough to move the UFC decision-makers to action? Well, it hasn’t in the past. And that’s just a fucking disgrace.