Facing the Haka: Power, Emotion, and the Psychology of Response

Growing up around rugby because of my dad, there were few things that captured my attention like the haka. I remember being small and absolutely transfixed by it — the rhythm, the expression, the raw energy of a team declaring who they are and where they come from. The All Blacks, at the time, felt mythical to me. And the haka… well, it was unlike anything else in sport.

What I didn’t understand then — and only appreciate now as a sport psychologist — is just how layered and psychologically complex the haka is. It’s not simply “intimidation.” It’s identity, story, and relationship. And how opponents respond to it tells us something equally fascinating about performance and mindset.

Where the haka comes from (and why it matters)

The haka is a Māori ceremonial performance traditionally used for many purposes: welcoming guests, marking significant events, celebrating achievements, mourning, and yes — preparing for battle. What we often see in rugby is just one expression of a much broader cultural practice.

Different iwi (tribes) have their own haka, and while “Ka Mate” is the most globally recognised, it’s only one of many. “Kapa o Pango,” for example, was written specifically for the All Blacks and incorporates imagery meaningful to New Zealand rugby and Māori culture.

Crucially, the haka is not a performance at the opposition — it is a performance for themselves, their ancestors, their land, and their shared identity. It is psychological preparation rooted in belonging.

The psychology of performing the haka

For the team performing it, the haka acts as:

1. A unifying ritual

Rituals bind teams together. They reduce anxiety, boost cohesion, and create a shared emotional state. The haka is one of the most powerful examples of this in modern sport.

2. A way to shift state

The physical movement, vocal intensity, and synchrony activate physiological arousal. It primes players for fierce, assertive action — essentially a controlled emotional “upshift.”

3. A grounding of identity

Athletes perform better when they feel connected to something bigger than themselves. The haka reinforces lineage, collective pride, and purpose.

It is not just about getting “pumped up.” It’s about stepping into a role and affirming: This is who we are and why we’re here.

The psychology of receiving the haka

For the opposition, the haka creates a moment of deep tension. All eyes are on the two teams. One declares their intent. The other must decide: How do we meet this?

Teams in New Zealand, from grassroots to elite, often respond with their own form of acknowledgment — usually stepping forward together, setting their stance, and holding eye contact. It’s a way of signalling:“We see you. And we are ready.”

This response is not antagonistic. It’s part of the psychological contract around the haka: challenge met with challenge.

But outside New Zealand, responses vary widely — and emotionally, the stakes feel different.

England’s response: defiance with meaning

In the most recent Autumn International, England faced the All Blacks’ haka at Twickenham with a pointed, emotionally charged response. Rather than stand still, they formed a semi-circle (horseshoe) on their 22-metre line, and the crowd sang “Swing Low, Sweet Chariot” loudly throughout. Yahoo Sports+2Yahoo Sports+2

Maro Itoje, England’s captain, later explained that the move was a deliberate mirror of the haka’s purpose: “They’re doing this to get themselves ready, so our response was to show ourselves and the stadium that we were ready for the challenge.” Yahoo Sports+1

Jamie George, who helped devise the formation, admitted he thought, “why not?” — they adopted this bold posture without crossing the halfway line, staying within regulation, but still delivering a very pointed message. RugbyPass+1

Psychologically, this response did several things:

• Asserted control: By not ceding space or status, England refused to begin on the back foot emotionally.

• Rallied the crowd: “Swing Low” isn’t just a spectator song — here, it became part of a psychological statement, uniting fans and players in purpose.

• Grounded identity: England leaned into their own ritual and meaning, rather than trying to merely neutralise the haka.

  
  

This wasn’t a passive or respectful nod; it was a performance of self-belief. And ultimately, it set a powerful tone — England backed it up on the field with a 33-19 win. SuperSport+1

Australia’s historical response: cheek, subversion, and identity

The idea that teams must only “respectfully receive” the haka overlooks a long history of responses that challenge its psychological dominance — and some are surprisingly playful.

One of the most infamous examples comes from Wallaby flanker Sam Scott-Young, who during some of his Tests in the 1990s would blow kisses at the All Blacks during their haka. RugbyPass+1  It was provocatively cheeky — a way of saying, “We see you, and I’m not scared.”

More recently, the Wallabies have used a more structured, culturally grounded response: the boomerang formation. Inspired by First Nations culture, they form a boomerang-like shape, advance, and symbolically “throw back” a challenge to the haka. RUGBY.com.au+1  Coach Dave Rennie said it’s their way of “accepting the challenge” with cultural pride — not ignorance. The Independent+1

Reflections on meaning, respect, and psychology

These examples illustrate how teams don’t just “have” to be respectful — they can actively respond. And psychologically, that matters:

• When England or Australia respond, they reclaim agency.

• They shape the emotional dynamic, rather than be shaped by it.

• They root their response in their own identity — whether that’s national, cultural, or even theatrical.

There’s a deeper conversation here: respect doesn’t always mean silence, and psychological readiness doesn’t always mean submission.

Maybe the real point is this

The haka isn’t just a pre-game ritual. It’s a psychological landscape — full of identity, emotion, tension, and choice.

And the choices teams make in that moment — whether to stand firm, to step forward, to sing, to challenge — reveal what they believe will help them compete at their best.

It’s less about disrespect, and more about the deep human need to meet power with power, meaning with meaning, identity with identity.

That’s why the haka continues to fascinate me, just as it did when I was a child watching the All Blacks with wide, awed eyes. Not because it’s intimidating, but because it is one of the clearest expressions of how psychology, culture, and sport collide.