How the Back Squat Took Over the Gym (and Why Its Future Is Still Being Written)

Everyone has an opinion on how to squat. High bar, low bar, toes forward, knees out, belt on, belt off. Coaches argue, lifters swear loyalty, and internet experts defend technique like sacred doctrine. Yet most of the things we treat as universal truths in squatting are barely a century old. The movement has never been stable. It has always been in motion. The history of the squat is a history of people trying, failing, succeeding, and changing their minds.

The modern back squat feels like a law of nature. Put a bar on your back, sit down, stand up, get strong. It feels primal, inevitable, and ancient. But the back squat in its current form is a recent invention, the result of shifting ideas about exercise, waves of commercial innovation, and a century-long tug of war between science, sport, and culture. When we look backward, the certainty surrounding the squat begins to dissolve, replaced by improvisation and evolution.

The Early History

In the nineteenth century, European and American exercise systems embraced squatting, but not the version we know today. These early movements looked more like precarious toe-balancing drills than strength work. Gymnastic instructors encouraged trainees to rise onto the balls of the feet, lower toward the heels without letting them touch the ground, and stand up again. It was balance meets discipline, a lesson in control rather than a test of power. Strength was not the point. Grace and posture were.

The shift toward loading the squat did not begin in a sports science laboratory. It came through spectacle and business. Eugen Sandow, the celebrity strongman of the late nineteenth century, sold light dumbbells and promised classical physiques to anyone who would follow his system. He was a master of branding, presenting exercise as refinement, not exertion. Sandowian squats still mirrored the tiptoe pattern, now paired with dumbbells that offered modest resistance. Progress loading existed, but only in spirit.

Figure One: The Deep Knee Bend with Barbell from First Course in Body-Building and Muscle-Developing Exercises. The Milo Bar-bell Company 1915 (14).

Everything changed when barbells arrived. In the early twentieth century, Alan Calvert founded the Milo Barbell Company and brought adjustable barbells into American homes and gymnasiums. With real weight and real progression available, the squat had its first chance to become a strength exercise. Yet even then, lifters often squatted on their toes, clinging to inherited habits from gymnastics culture.

The Flat Foot Revolution

The flat foot was the real revolution. Henry Milo Steinborn, a German strongman who arrived in the United States after the First World War, made deep, flat-footed back squats with heavy weight his calling card. Without a squat rack, he tipped a barbell upright, squatted beneath it, rolled it across his shoulders, and stood up to begin his set. Suddenly the squat was not a precarious balancing act. It was a grounded, powerful movement capable of supporting serious load. Strength magazines took notice, trainees imitated him, and the flat-footed squat crossed from curiosity into accepted practice.

With Steinborn came innovation. Lifters built squat stands from lumber, boxes, and whatever was available. Eventually manufacturers followed. By the 1930s and 1940s, squat racks were appearing in gyms, making the movement more accessible. The idea that one could stand under a bar, lift it, and train systematically began to spread.

As the squat entered sport culture, it changed again. Olympic weightlifters used squats as assistance work for the clean and snatch. They emphasised upright posture and depth, building the front squat into their training systems. Bodybuilders embraced the squat as a pathway to leg size and used higher volumes, encouraging a culture of effort, grit, and sometimes masochism. Powerlifting then turned the squat into a judged competitive lift. With rules came standards: depth defined as the hip crease passing the knee. Arguments about stance, back angle, and technique intensified. Equipment entered the picture too, from wraps to suits to heeled shoes. Every tool altered the movement slightly, shaping what the squat meant and how it was performed.

Scientific Squatting

If sport made the squat visible, science tried to explain and sometimes constrain it. In the mid-twentieth century, some researchers warned that deep squats would destroy the knees. Coaches advised partial squats. The knee-over-toe position became controversial. Yet lifters continued to squat deep, pointing to decades of strong, healthy knees in the weightlifting world. Eventually, studies refuted the early claims and professional organisations endorsed deep squatting for health and performance. The squat survived the scrutiny, but the debate left a cultural mark. For years, many gym-goers believed half squats were safer and more sensible than sitting deeply under load.

The late twentieth century brought a second wave of scientific validation. Strength and conditioning emerged as a profession. Universities studied strength training. Sporting programs adopted barbell squats as foundational exercises. A movement once treated with suspicion was now fundamental to athletic preparation. At the same time, commercial fitness culture exploded. Nautilus machines offered squat-like movements without the intimidation of the barbell. Leg presses and Smith machines gave newcomers an entry point. Barbell squats remained central in athletic environments, but ordinary gym-goers encountered a wider menu of options.

All the while, the movement itself continued to evolve. High-bar and low-bar squats developed distinct identities. Front squats, Zercher squats, safety-bar squats, belt squats, and goblet squats flourished. Mobility culture reframed the squat as a natural resting position. CrossFit reintroduced Olympic lifting to the masses. Strongman exposed audiences to stones, sandbags, and odd objects, reminding lifters that there is more than one way to train legs.

So what does this history tell us? The back squat is not a universal law. It is a cultural invention shaped by necessity, creativity, pride, and persuasion. Its meaning has shifted many times and will continue to shift. This is not a weakness. It is testament to the adaptability and imagination of the strength world.

Wrapping Up

The squat has never belonged to one method or one ideology. It has always been a negotiation between body and context, tool and goal. When we insist on a single correct way to squat, we are trying to freeze something that has always been fluid.

The real lesson is simple. Training is not about enforcing purity. It is about finding what works. Strength evolves. Movement evolves. Human bodies adapt. The history of the squat reminds us that there is no virtue in rigidity. The goal is not to defend a tradition but to honour the purpose behind it: to move well, to grow stronger, and to keep learning.

The squat will change again. And that is exactly how it should be.

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