Editor's Note:  Marjolaine is an attorney admitted to the Geneva bar (Switzerland) who specialises in sports and life sciences.   She currently participates as a scientific collaborator at the University of Neuchâtel on a research project to produce the first article-by-article legal commentary of the 2015 World Anti-Doping Code. Her latest book Evidence in Anti-Doping at the Intersection of Science & Law was published in 2016 in the International Sports Law Book Series of T.M.C. ASSER Press.

INTRODUCTION

On 30 September 2016, a panel of the Court of Arbitration for Sport (“CAS”) rendered its award in the matter opposing high-profile tennis player Maria Sharapova to the International Tennis Federation (“ITF”). Maria Sharapova was appealing the two-year ban imposed on her by the ITF Tribunal in June 2016 for her use of Meldonium, a substance newly added to the WADA Prohibited List 2016[1]. Since neither the ITF nor WADA had chosen to challenge the Tribunal’s decision, the stakes of the case were rather simple: would the player convince the CAS panel that she should benefit from a finding of “No Significant Fault or Negligence”[2], thereby allowing for a reduction of the sanction down to a minimum of one year, or should the decision of the Tribunal be upheld? In its award, the CAS panel decided to grant such finding and reduced the sanction to 15 months.

This blog does not purport to be a ‘comment’ on the CAS award. Rather, it seeks to place the Sharapova matter into a broader context with respect to a specific issue: the expectations on Athletes when it comes to their awareness of the prohibited character of a substance, specifically when taking a medication[3]. In July 2016, I presented at the T.M.C Asser Institute in The Hague various current challenges of anti-doping that the Meldonium cases exposed (see the video here). One of these challenges concerned the modalities for including new substances onto the Prohibited List. This blog represents a follow-up on my presentation, in the light of the findings contained in the CAS award.

More concretely, the blog takes as a starting point one finding in the award, made by the CAS panel when evaluating whether the player acted reasonably in entrusting her sport agent – who lacked any medical or other scientific qualification – with ensuring that her medication scheme stayed compliant with the World Anti-Doping Program[4]:

“checking a substance against the Prohibited List is not an action for which specific anti-doping training is required. It is expected to be made, as a rule and under Article 3.1.2 of the TADP, by the player personally, and a player does not need to have scientific or medical expertise for such purpose. No standard in the WADC or otherwise raises such a high bar”[5].

This statement may have raised some eyebrows among readers familiar with anti-doping, after years of repeated warnings that Athletes should not only consult a doctor before taking a medication, but preferably a doctor versed in sports medicine, and that they have to take responsibility for failing to do so if the medication turns out to be prohibited.

CAS JURISPRUDENCE: BETTER SEE TWO DOCTORS THAN ONE

Since many – if not most – substances on the Prohibited List are originally therapeutic products, there is a rich body of CAS case law revolving around the Athlete’s duty to seek specialized advice before taking a medication. As the panel in the Cilic v. ITF matter noted, Athletes have a reinforced duty of care, in particular: “[w]here the product is a medicine designed for a therapeutic purpose. Again, in this scenario, a particular danger arises, that calls for a higher duty of care. This is because medicines are known to have prohibited substances in them”[6].

Though the basic position taken in the Cilic v. ITF appears uncontradicted or even supported in other CAS decisions[7], CAS case law is fluctuating on the level of diligence that can be expected from Athletes when taking a medication. It seems common ground that failure to consult a health professional is a factor pleading against the Athlete when assessing his or her degree of Fault, and, conversely, that seeking professional advice tends to make the Fault lighter[8]. The exact contours of the diligence expected, and the consequences of a failure to exercise such diligence, however, are less uniformly defined. Circumstances taken into account may include: whether the Athlete acted in an emergency or had ample time to do verifications[9]; whether the Athlete did seek some professional advice (although not necessarily fully qualified one) or proactively enquired about risks related to doping[10]; whether the Athlete initially received clearing through a doctor and was simply careless in continuing use of the medication[11], or used the medication without any attempt to seek a prescription altogether[12]; and whether the Athlete subsequently obtained a Therapeutic Use Exemption (“TUE”)[13].

Nevertheless, there seems to be consensus among CAS panels on at least one point: failure to recognize the prohibited character of the active substance in a medication never justifies a finding of No Fault or Negligence, even upon (erroneous) advice from a qualified health professional[14]. This jurisprudence finds explicit support in the Comment to Article 10.4 of the WADC: “Athletes are responsible for their choice of medical personnel and for advising medical personnel that they cannot be given any Prohibited Substance”[15]. The idea behind the jurisprudence is clear: it avoids that Athletes could ‘hide’ behind the advice of a doctor, who would then simply admit to having made an egregious error[16]. The CAS panel’s statement in the Sharapova matter seems to put in question this apparently well-established point of jurisprudence: if, as the panel assumed, the WADC only expects the Athlete to personally check a substance against the Prohibited List, no Fault can be held against the Athlete if it can be shown that the prohibited character of the substance was not recognizable to the Athlete, irrespective of whether such prohibition would have been obvious to a qualified health professional.

HOW CAN AN ATHLETE VERIFY WHETHER A MEDICATION IS PROHIBITED?

Putting aside for a moment the consistency of the Sharapova award with past CAS jurisprudence and its impact on the WADC system as a whole, the finding of the CAS panel raises a more practical question: is it realistic to consider that there is no duty on the Athlete to call on scientific or medical expertise to determine whether a substance is prohibited?

In order to assess this question, let us imagine the situation of an Athlete who plans to take – or is already taking – a medication, and wants to make sure that the substance does not raise any doping issues:

1. The Athlete would need to know that the substance will (as a rule) not be listed by its brand or trade name, but by the name of the active substance. More precisely, WADA announced in 2014 that it seeks to enhance the clarity of the Prohibited List by using the nomenclature of the WHO International Non-Proprietary Name (“INN”). The rationale for always listing active substances rather than trade names is rooted in a reality of international sports that one and the same active substance may be marketed under different names in different countries. For example, ‘Meldonium’ is a WHO recommended INN, which is marketed, among others, under the name ‘Mildronate’. While the distinction should be obvious to a health professional, it is much less certain that determining the active substance will always lie within the abilities of an Athlete. In the Sharapova matter, the player did in fact argue that both her manager and she “mistakenly, but honestly, believed Mildronate to be the name of the substance and did not realize that it was a brand name”[17].
2. The Athlete would need to know that the exact chemical name and spelling of a substance may vary depending on usage, language and country[18]. Thus, an automatic search through the Prohibited List is not sufficient. The Athlete would either need to do a search for all potential spellings and/or read through a few hundred substances on the List, since it is hardly imaginable that the Athlete would be able to determine on his or her own within which class of substances the medication falls. In addition, some substances may have synonyms that do not appear on the Prohibited List, but only in accompanying documents such as a WADA Explanatory Note[19]. Searching a drug database established by the Athlete’s National Anti-Doping Organization (“NADO”) is not necessarily a fool proof method either, since NADOs typically only include in their database therapeutic products that are registered or otherwise approved for sale in the relevant country[20]. Thus, a negative search result may simply mean that the medication has not (yet) obtained approval in the country.
3. An additional factor to take into account is the ‘open’ nature of the Prohibited List. The List is non-exhaustive, in the sense that it does not list each Prohibited Substance by its name. Instead, most classes include a list of examples followed by a catch-all clause. For these non-named, ‘similar’ or ‘related’, substances, the Athlete would thus need to assess whether the medication has a chemical structure and/or effect similar to other substances named on the Prohibited List[21].
4. Finally, it would be difficult to advise the Athlete as to what entity – prior to the CAS panel in a doping dispute – would have the authority to preventively ‘clear’ a substance upon enquiry. A negative search result on the WADA Prohibited List search engine appears with the following response: “No results: If a Substance or a Method you have searched for is not found, please verify with your Anti-Doping Organization to ensure that this Substance or Method is not prohibited as a related Substance or Method that falls under an existing category”.

However, it is not clear at all under the current system that an International Federation or NADO have the authority to issue a binding clarification in this respect, and WADA does not appear prepared to take on this ‘clearing’ function. In fact, the WADA Q&A on the Prohibited List openly acknowledges that the status of some substances may not be clear-cut and that “it is in the best interest of the athlete to refrain from taking any substance or use any method if its status is unknown or unclear”[22].

Considering the elements above, one may legitimately question the idea expressed in the CAS award that checking a substance against the Prohibited List is an act that is to be performed by the Athlete personally and that there is no expectation in the WADC that the assessment should be done by a qualified professional.

AN ISSUE OF FAULT OR AN ISSUE OF PREDICTABILITY?

There is some truth to the statement in the Sharapova award in the context of the WADC, but not in the sense one would expect: when it comes to finding that a violation has been committed, the WADC does not care whether one could reasonably expect the Athlete to be aware of the prohibited character of the substance. Article 3.2.1 of the ITF Tennis Anti-Doping Programme (“TADP”) referenced in the award addresses the dynamic character of the prohibition under the WADA Prohibited List and reads, in fine[23]: “It is the responsibility of each Player and each Player Support Personnel to be familiar with the most current version of the Prohibited List”. The expression “responsibility of each Player” – which reflects the duty expressed in Article 2.1 of the WADC – has never been understood as meaning that Athletes are only expected to check the Prohibited List personally. It means that Athletes will need to carry the consequences if they are not aware of its current content.

This regulatory situation is implicit in all awards in which CAS panels are asked to deal with an argument that the Athlete was not aware of the prohibited character of the substance: as soon as a substance is determined to be prohibited and was present in the Sample, there is no question that an anti-doping rule violation was committed under Article 2.1 of the WADC[24]. Rather, the predictability is examined, if at all, under the angle of the degree of Fault, to determine the severity of the applicable sanction under Article 10[25].

By contrast, if the statement by the CAS panel in the Sharapova matter were to be taken literally, the debate would no longer be limited to the degree of Fault, but would directly affect the predictability of the prohibition for the Athlete. If the WADC truly only expected Athletes to personally check a substance against the Prohibited List, the predictability of the prohibited character would have to be defined according to an Athlete’s capabilities. There are arguments to support such a position: anti-doping rules of an International Federation – including the Prohibited List incorporated therein – are made binding on Athletes through contractual (or otherwise consensual) means. As early as 1994, the panel in Quigley v. UIT noted that: “any legal regime should seek to enable its subjects to assess the consequences of their actions”[26]. An analogy with the fiction nemo censeture ignorare legem, developed with respect to state law, is difficult to sustain. In a contractual context, the contents of the parties’ agreement needs to be interpreted based on what the other party could reasonably understand[27]. Even if elite Athletes undertake to keep themselves informed about the evolution of the rules, this implies that there may be certain limits on this undertaking.

Thus, if one were to follow the CAS panel’s findings in Sharapova that Athletes are expected to check the Prohibited List personally, one would need to deny the predictability of the prohibition in each case in which the prohibited character of the substance could not reasonably be recognized by the Athlete him- or herself, and thus find that an element of the anti-doping rule violation is missing. While a literal reading of the statement may evoke such an extreme outcome, it is unlikely that the CAS panel had in mind such implication for its statement. There is no other indication in the award that the CAS panel meant to question the ‘fiction’ of awareness of the prohibition that has been generally accepted in CAS jurisprudence, or its corollary of strict liability. In fact, the arbitrators were not asked to do so, since Maria Sharapova did not challenge the anti-doping rule violation itself.

MORE COMMUNICATION IS NOT ALWAYS BETTER COMMUNICATION

The reason why CAS panels refrain from analyzing the issue under the angle of legal predictability – apart from the fact that the parties generally do not raise this defence – is probably because, unlike the degree of Fault, predictability of the scope of the prohibition allows for no graduation: either the finding of an anti-doping rule violation can be supported, or it cannot.

Accordingly, CAS panels prefer to attenuate the harshness of the regime by evoking a framework of ‘reciprocal’ duties between Anti-Doping Organizations and Athletes. This is also perceivable in the Sharapova award, in which the CAS panel expressed its view that: “anti-doping organizations should have to take reasonable steps to provide notice to athletes of significant changes to the Prohibited List, such as the addition of a substance, including its brand names”.

The extent of the “reasonable steps” expected from the Anti-Doping Organizations, and the repercussions in case of a failure to take appropriate steps in a particular matter, however, is not clear[28]. In particular, the Sharapova award does not clarify whether the communication has to be such that the Athlete can genuinely be expected to verify the prohibited character of a substance personally, without specialized assistance. Though the sections in the Sharapova award addressing this issue could convey such an impression, it is unlikely that this was the CAS panel’s intent. Other paragraphs regarding the ‘delegation test’, on the contrary, clearly point at an inevitable need for medical support. As part of their assessment of the player’s Fault, the panel noted a default to instruct and supervise her agent, in particular: “to put him in contact with Dr Skalny [the physician who had prescribed the medication to Maria Sharapova] to understand the nature of the Skalny products”. According to the panel, if an Athlete could simply delegate their obligations to a non-trained third party without properly instructing them, “such a finding would render meaningless the obligation of an athlete to avoid doping”. Between the lines, the CAS panel thus acknowledges that it is part of an Athlete’s duty of diligence to involve a physician when circumstances so warrant.

In our view, the level of communication expected from Anti-Doping Organization must take into account the nature of the substance, as well as the channels through which an Athlete is supposed to come into contact with this substance. As far as medications are concerned, communication that makes the prohibited character of a substance easily identifiable for a health professional (e.g. a doctor or a pharmacist), would appear an adequate and sufficient level of communication. There is no doubt that the Prohibited List has evolved to a degree of complexity that imposes heightened duties on Anti-Doping Organizations to do their share to prevent inadvertent violations. However, while appropriate communication is essential, caution must be applied with respect to communication of information of a very technical nature. The information related to the Prohibited List is at the intersection of two technical domains: it is both a legal and a scientific-medical document. In this constellation, one should also factor in the risk that more communication would merely increase the potential for misunderstanding. It might be preferable for Anti-Doping Organizations to refer to one unique document with accurate and precise language that can be interpreted reliably by the relevant professional, than to draft multiple ‘information notices’, ‘warnings’ etc. attempting to adapt the information to lay-persons also, but in which each minor change of wording may create new ambiguities. Of note, this also supposes an appropriate training and awareness on part of the health professions, in particular those practitioners who know they are regularly dealing with sportspeople.

THE NEXT MISSION OF ANTI-DOPING: SAFER ELITE SPORT?

The finding in the Sharapova v. ITF award that no anti-doping training is needed to ascertain the status of a substance, and that the check is to be conducted, as a rule, by the Athlete personally, without scientific or medical qualifications being required, should not be taken in isolation from its context. It would be dangerous to assign too strong a precedential value to this element in the CAS panel’s analysis. In other sections of the award, the CAS panel acknowledged - at least between the lines - that checking a medication against the Prohibited List without appropriate specialized advice is not commendable and would hardly be sufficient to consider that the Athlete discharged his or her duties of diligence under the WADC.

More generally, CAS panels have so far refrained from assessing the predictability of the prohibited character of a medication as a requirement for establishing an anti-doping rule violation. However, they do seem to recognize that there are certain duties on Anti-Doping Organizations to assist Athletes in properly performing their own duties under the WADC. Communication deemed insufficient will not invalidate an anti-doping rule violation, but may be taken into account in reducing the Athlete’s degree of Fault. This can be viewed as an incentive towards intensified communication efforts on part of the anti-doping movement, but without jeopardizing the prohibition itself in individual cases.

Ultimately, the lesson to retain from the Sharapova award – and the Meldonium cases in general – goes beyond the duty for Athletes to be aware of the prohibited character of a substance. The underlying question that these cases raise is the health risk involved in elite sport, and the Athlete’s willingness to go to great lengths to practise at the highest level. There is widespread abuse of medications – sold over-the-counter or reused after an initial prescription – in the population in general[29]. Athletes are not an exception, but the problem seems to be exacerbated by competitive sport, where Athlete often feel they depend on a ‘quick fix’ to a health condition to meet their goals[30].

As pointed out in a previous comment to the ITF Tribunal Decision in Sharapova, it is not for adjudicatory bodies to deliver a ‘moral’ judgement on the manner in which elite sport should be practised. The CAS panel was asked to consider whether Maria Sharapova was at Fault with respect to her anti-doping duties, not whether she was conveying a ‘respectable’ or ‘responsible’ image of elite sport, or whether she was acting reasonably in terms of healthcare.

Nevertheless, given the WADC’s stated goal of protecting the Athlete’s health, the anti-doping movement cannot entirely disregard the messages that are sent out to Athletes when it comes to the use of medication. CAS awards indirectly reflect the panels’ perceptions on the subject, and the diverging attitudes that also coexist in health systems in general. In the eyes of some CAS panels, including in the matter of Maria Sharapova, taking a medication without medical supervision or outside the purposes for which the medication was prescribed does not seem to constitute Significant Fault[31]. When Athletes are at times held to extremely high standards of care for taking nutritional supplements[32], or even for being sabotaged at a social drink[33], CAS panels should be mindful not to encourage Athletes to view self-medication as part of their training routine.

[1] The decision was commented on http://wadc-commentary.com/sharapova/

[2] The capitalized words in the text are terms defined in the World Anti-Doping Code (« WADC »).

[3] Defining what is to be considered a ‘medication’ for purposes of anti-doping is a delicate topic in itself and will be the object of a separate analysis in a future blog. Within the context of the Sharapova decision, typical ‘medications’ envisaged here are those in the core domain of prescription drugs, without regard to borderline cases (health supplements, herbal remedies, functional food etc.).

[4] The CAS panel chose a tripartite test known in the liability of the employer in Swiss tort law, based on the ‘three culpa’ : culpa in eligendo (lack of diligence in choosing the person), culpa in instruendo (lack of diligence in instructing the person), or culpa in custodiendo (lack of diligence in supervising the person) (see Sharapova award, para. 85). The details of this test and its appropriateness for the context of anti-doping will be analyzed on the WADC Commentary Anti-Doping Blog http://wadc-commentary.com/antidopingblog/ .

[5] Sharapova award, para. 88 iii.

[6] CAS 2013/A/3335, Cilic v. ITF, para. 75 b.

[7] CAS 2016/A/4371, Lea v. USADA, para. 91, limiting, however, this duty of diligence to the situation « of an athlete taking prescribed medication fo the first time »; in the Sharapova award, para. 84, the panel also insisted that Athlete cannot be expected in each case to meet all factors proposed in the Cilic guidance.

[8] “Did the athlete consult appropriate experts” is a factor to assess the Athlete’s objective Fault in the guidance issued in CAS 2013/A/3335, Cilic v. ITF, para. 74; CAS 2015/A/3876, Stewart v. FIM, paras 77/78; CAS 2011/A/2645, UCI v. Kolobnev & RCF, para. 92, with further references; CAS 2006/A/1133, WADA v. Stauber, para. 39.

[9] CAS 2006/A/1133, WADA v. Stauber, para. 36.

[10] CAS 2008/A/1565, WADA v. CISM & Turrini, para. 66.

[11] CAS 2011/A/2645, UCI v. Kolobnev & RCF, paras 87 & 93.

[12] CAS 2010/A/2229, WADA v. FIVB & Berrios, para. 100 ; CAS 2011/A/2585, WADA v. Marino & UCRA, para. 112.

[13] CAS 2015/A/3876, Stewart v. FIM, paras 77 & 84.

[14] CAS 2008/A/1565, WADA v. CISM & Turrini, para. 63 ; CAS 2006/A/1133, WADA v. Stauber, para. 35 ; CAS 2005/A/828, Koubek v. ITF, para. 60; even applied to an Athlete who was administered the substance as part of an emergency treatment in hospital but failed to subsequently enquire about the substance that had been administered (CAS 2006/A/1041 Vassilev v/ FIBT & BBTF); even applied if the tournament organization delivered the wrong medication after prescription by the official tournament doctor (CAS 2005/A/951, Cañas v. ATP).

[15] See also Article 21.1.4 of the WADC, whereby Athletes are “to take responsibility to make sure that any medical treatment received does not violate anti-doping policies and rules adopted pursuant to the Code”.

[16] CAS 2006/A/1133, WADA v. Stauber, para. 35.

[17] Sharapova award, para. 43 v.

[18] See e.g. the stimulant spelt “metamfetamine” in the WADA Prohibited List, is spelt “methamphetamine” in FDA-approved drugs.

[19] CAS 2013/A/3075, WADA v. Szabolcz, para. 9.8.

[20] See e.g. the drug enquiry database of Swiss Anti-Doping: “This database contains drugs authorized in Switzerland, only.”

[21] For a critical analysis, see Viret Marjolaine (2016), Evidence in Anti-Doping at the Intersection of Science & Law, T.M.C Asser Press / Springer, The Hague, pp 465-479.

[22] For more details, see Viret Marjolaine (2016), Evidence in Anti-Doping at the Intersection of Science & Law, T.M.C Asser Press / Springer, The Hague, pp 472-477.

[23] This provision concretizes Article 4.1 of the WADC.

[24] In CAS OG 12/07, ICF & Sterba v. COC & IOC, which involved a non-listed stimulant, the CAS panel noted that the use of the substance by the Athlete “could have been avoided if indeed the substance had been expressly included on the Prohibited List or in any other data base that can be easily accessed with modern technology and the internet”, but added that “This, of course, does not change the fact that the Anti-Doping violation occurred”, but was “important and relevant in respect to assessing and examining the level of fault of the Respondent and the consequential sanction” (para. 6.6.18).

[25] See e.g. CAS 2016/A/4371, Lea v. USADA, para. 92, citing the CAS jurisprudence that “athletes should have clear notice of conduct that constitutes an anti-doping rule violation”, but only to determine the degree of fault involved in failing to anticipate the excretion time needed for a substance prohibited In-Competition only.

[26] CAS 94/129, quoted in CAS 2016/A/4371, Lea v. USADA, para. 92.

[27] This was explicitly recognized, though with respect to a violation of failure to submit to Sample collection, in CAS 2008/A/1557, FIGC, Mannini & Possanzini v. WADA, paras 6.15 et seq.

[28] For a more extensive analysis, see the upcoming contribution on the WADC Commentary Anti-Doping Blog,

[29] E.g. the WHO warnings about antibiotics resistance acquired through inadequate use of antibiotics without specialized advice (e.g. prescribed for viral infections, or patients using the rest of their tablets when they experience similar symptoms).

[30] See e.g. the current debate surrounding the use of glucocorticoids among elite Athletes, and the use of TUEs for common health conditions after the data leaks revealed by hackers.

[31] CAS 2016/A/4371, Lea v. USADA, para. 91, in which the Athlete had taken a medication prescribed for pain relief as a sleep aid, as he had witnessed his teammates do.

[32] CAS 2009/A/1870 WADA v. Hardy & USADA, para. 120.

[33] CAS 2008/A/1515, WADA v. Daubney & Swiss Olympic, para. 125.

Introduction
On 25 March 2015, the Labour Court of Mainz issued its decision in proceedings brought by a German footballer, Heinz Müller, against his (now former) club 1. FSV Mainz 05 (Mainz 05). The Court sided with the player and ruled that Müller should have been employed by Mainz 05 for an indefinite period following his 2009 three year contract with the club which was subsequently extended in 2011 to run until mid-2014. The judgment was based on national law implementing Directive 1999/70 on fixed-term work[1] (Directive) with the latter being introduced pursuant to art. 155(2) TFEU (ex art. 139(2) TEC). On the basis of this article, European social partners’ may request a framework agreement which they conclude to be implemented on the European Union (EU, Union) level by a Council decision on a proposal from the Commission. One of the objectives of the framework agreement,[2] and therefore of the Directive, was to establish a system to prevent abuse arising from the use of successive fixed-term employment contracts or relationships[3] which lies at the heart of the discussed problem.[4] Two clauses enshrined in the framework agreement are of particular relevance to the issue of fixed-term contracts in football, namely, clause 2 which governs the Directive’s scope of application, and clause 5 which concerns measures to prevent abuse. The main questions in this regard are therefore whether fixed-term contracts in football may escape the application of the Directive based on clause 2, or be compatible with it pursuant to clause 5. The present blog post presenting the general European framework for fixed-term contract, will be followed by an in depth case note on the decision in the Müller case.

I. Employment contracts in football and the scope of application of the Directive (clause 2)
The second paragraph of clause 2 names specific types of employment relationships which the Member States, after consultation with social partners, and/or social partners may exclude from the scope of application of the Directive. Clause 2(2) does not contain any explicit provisions which would allow for the possibility of football players’ contracts to be excluded from the scope of the Directive. Also, the wording of the provision indicates that the list of the employment relationships covered by the exception is exhaustive,[5] which in turn precludes the possibility of interpreting the clause in a manner which would accommodate contracts between football clubs and their players.

Clause 2(1), on the other hand, provides that the Directive ‘applies to fixed-term workers who have an employment contract or employment relationship as defined in law, collective agreements or practice in each Member State’. As a result, the definition of ‘worker’ for the purpose of the Directive has no autonomous meaning, but is subject to the national laws of the Member States.[6] Therefore, the manner in which the framework agreement has been drafted opens the possibility for the Member States to exclude some categories of workers from the scope of application of the Directive. It follows, that based on the pure wording of clause 2(1) national authorities could theoretically deprive, inter alia, football players of the protection granted under the Directive by merely classifying them as e.g. service providers.

Despite the autonomy granted to national authorities in this regard, clause 2(1) may not be understood as providing the Member States with unlimited discretion. Recital 17 of the Directive’s preamble clearly states that the Member States are to define some of the terms included in the framework agreement ‘provided that the definitions in question respect [its content].’ Moreover, art. 2 of the Directive stipulates that ‘the Member states are […] required to take any necessary measures to enable them […] to guarantee the results imposed by [the] Directive.’[7] The flexibility granted to national authorities is further limited by the need to ensure the effective implementation of EU-derived rights. The Court of Justice of the European Union’s (CJEU, Court) rulings set the limits to the Member States’ discretion in the implementation of clause 2(1). In this regard, the CJEU ruled in Del Cerro[8] that the Directive is applicable to ‘all workers providing remunerated services in the context of a fixed-term employment relationship linking them to their employer.’[9] The Court also stated that ‘in reserving to Member States the ability to remove at will certain categories of persons from the protection offered by [the Directive] and the [framework agreement], the effectiveness of those Community instruments would be in jeopardy as would their uniform application in the Member States.’[10] Also, in the opinion of Advocate General (AG) Maduro the concept of ‘worker’ for the purpose of the Directive must be interpreted in a way which complies with its objectives.[11]  According to the AG, the Member States should not be allowed to rely on the ‘formal’ or ‘special’ nature of the rules applicable to certain employment relationships in order to exclude them from the scope of application of the Directive.[12] Consequently, excluding a specific group from the benefit of protection afforded by the Directive can only be accepted if the competent national court decides that the nature of the employment relationship concerned is ‘substantially different from that between employees falling, according to national law, within the category of workers’.[13]

A similar reasoning to the one used in Del Cerro has been applied in Sibilio[14] where the Court, relying on recital 17 and the need to preserve the Directive’s effectiveness, ruled that in the light of the objectives pursued by the framework agreement the formal classification by the national legislature cannot rule out that a person must be recognized as a ‘worker’ if such a formality is merely notional, and thus conceals the real employment relationship.[15] Therefore, in determining what constitutes an employment contract or employment relationship under national law or practice, and thus when determining the scope of application of the Directive, the definition of these concepts may not result in an arbitrary exclusion of a category of persons from the protection offered by the Directive.[16] The CJEU leaves it for the national courts to conclude whether a person falls within the definition of a ‘worker’ based on the characteristics of the work conducted and the circumstances in which it is carried out.[17] Moreover, in Fiamingo[18] and Mascolo[19] the CJEU later confirmed that no particular sector is excluded from the scope of application of the Directive.[20]

Even though the issue of who is to be considered as a ‘worker’ pursuant to the Directive does not fall within the competence of the EU, and thus, the definition established for the purpose of the internal market provisions may not be directly applied in the context of the Directive, the autonomous Union concept of ‘worker’ and the case-law of the CJEU provide guidelines and support for the national courts of the Member State. In this regard, the CJEU stated in Lawrie-Blum[21] that ‘the essential feature of an employment relationship […] is that for a certain period of time a person performs services for and under the direction of another person in return for which he receives remuneration.’[22] The Court elaborated on the matter in Trojani[23] where it ruled that ‘any person who pursues activities which are real and genuine, to the exclusion of activities on such a small scale as to be regarded as purely marginal and ancillary, must be regarded as a worker’.[24] It cannot be denied that footballers meet the criteria set out in the case-law. The activity they pursue is genuine, they conduct their work under supervision of others, namely clubs and coaches, and receive, often hefty, remuneration.[25] It is also important to add here that already in Bosman[26] the CJEU provided, first, that the existence of, or the intention to create, an employment relationship is the only requirement necessary for the purposes of the application of EU provisions concerning the free movement of workers, and second, that football players could be regarded as workers for the purpose of (now) art. 45 TFEU.[27] This particular finding has been directly confirmed in Olympique Lyonnais.[28] It is not precluded that such considerations should influence national courts in their findings concerning ‘characteristics’ and ‘circumstances’ of the activity exercised by football players should a question in this regard arise. As a result, it seems unlikely that contracts between footballers and their clubs could fall outside the scope of the Directive.

II. Employment contracts in football and measures to prevent abuse (clause 5)
Due to the fact that the social partners considered that contracts for an indefinite period are the general form of employment,[29] the Directive sets out specific measures which serve to secure one of the Directive’s main goals, i.e. prevention of abuse arising from the use of successive fixed-term employment contracts. In this regard, and pursuant to clause 5, the Member States after consultation with social partners, and/or the social partners, are obliged to establish at least one of the measures provided, i.e., i) objective reasons justifying renewal of fixed-term contracts or relationships; ii) the maximum total duration of successive fixed-term employment contracts or relationships; iii) the number of renewals of such contracts or relationships. This particular obligation exists when there are no equivalent legal measures already in place in the national legal orders. Moreover, in establishing the measures the national authorities are to take into account the needs of specific sectors and/or categories of workers. Since the objective reasons justification is the only measure which could facilitate the maintenance of the current status quo relating to fixed-term contracts in football, it is necessary to focus on this particular provisions.

A. Interpretation of ‘objective reasons’ justification in the CJEU’s case-law
The CJEU has had a chance to rule on the interpretation of clause 5 ‘objective reasons’ on a number of occasions. Consequently, for the purpose of relying on the justification the employer not only needs to be eligible to invoke ‘objective reasons’ defence as provided for under national law, but also the national implementing measure needs to comply with the conditions established in the Court’s case-law. In this regard, the CJEU ruled in Adeneler[30] that the concept of ‘objective reasons’ refers to ‘precise and concrete circumstances characterising a given activity, which are therefore capable in that particular context of justifying the use of successive fixed-term employment contracts.’[31] The Court further elaborated on the matter by providing that ‘[those] circumstances may result, in particular, from the specific nature of the tasks for the performance of which such contracts have been concluded and from the inherent characteristics of those tasks […].’[32] As a result, national provisions may not be of a purely formal nature, but must justify recourse to successive fixed-term contracts ‘by the presence of objective factors relating to the particular features of the activity concerned and to the conditions under which it is carried out […].’[33] Thus, ‘a national provision which merely authorises recourse to successive fixed-term employment contracts in a general and abstract manner […]’[34] does not fulfil the criteria. In this regard, the Court added that ‘recourse to fixed-term employment contracts solely on the basis of a general provision of statute or secondary legislation, unlinked to what the activity in question specifically comprises, does not permit objective and transparent criteria to be identified in order to verify whether the renewal of such contracts actually responds to a genuine need, is appropriate for achieving the objective pursued and is necessary for that purpose’.[35] Moreover, the CJEU also indicated that national laws which allow for the use of successive fixed-term contracts in the context of employers’ needs which are not of a limited duration, and thus temporary, but de facto ‘fixed and permanent’ will not be compatible with the Directive.[36] The above-mentioned findings of the Court have been confirmed in a number of judgments such as Angelidaki[37]. This case concerned individuals who claimed that their fixed-term contracts with the local authorities, which the latter decided not to extended or renew upon their expiry, should have been recognized as contracts of indefinite period as the work performed was of a ‘fixed and permanent’ nature. Reliance on the criteria provided by the CJEU in Adeneler is also evident in Mascolo in which the Court addressed the issue of compatibility with the Directive of Italian national law on the basis of which teachers recruited in schools administered by public authorities and working as temporary replacement staff were employed under successive fixed-term contracts. A similar issue to the one in Mascolo emerged in Kücük[38] which concerned a clerk in the court office who was employed on a number of successive fixed-term contracts as a replacement for several permanent employees due to temporary leave having been granted to the clerks employed for an indefinite duration. Here again the CJEU referred to the established case-law and clarified that temporary needs of employers also cover the need for replacing employees on leave even in situations where the tasks assigned to fixed-term worker are part of the undertaking’s usual activities.[39] This was the result of the need for replacement staff being of a temporary nature.[40] As the social partners themselves indicated that ‘fixed-term contracts are a feature of employment in certain sectors, occupations and activities which can suit both employers and workers’[41] it is thus necessary to evaluate whether objective reasons for the justification of fixed-term contracts in football might be identified.

B. Existence of ‘objective reasons’ justifying fixed-term contracts in football
With regard to the above, it can be argued that the specific circumstances inherent to the exercise of football as a profession are susceptible to justify the successive use of fixed-term employment contracts. In that respect, uncertainty as to players’ performance has always been an inseparable element of not only football but sports in general. No matter what level of performance a player displays over a particular span of time, it can never be excluded, rather it can be expected with certainty, that a (significant) drop in performance will take place. This concerns especially ‘older’ players, i.e. those in their thirties. It is common knowledge that after reaching a certain age athletes’ physical condition deteriorates, thus making it impossible for them to maintain a steady level of performance, and thus, to contribute to the combined efforts of the team they represent. Furthermore, FIFA transfer rules limit players’ possibility of terminating contracts. Art. 14 of the 2015 Regulations on the Status and Transfer of Players allows for termination to take place where a just cause exists. In this respect, introduction of contracts for indefinite period could open the possibility for players to rely on statutory termination periods in order to dissolve contracts, and thus, to become free agents. Consequently, football clubs, and especially those which focus on youth development, could be deprived of a substantial part of their income from transfer fees. This in turn could, first, limit the incentives for training young players, and second, would make it even easier for the richer clubs to acquire talents with negative consequences on competitive balance in football. Moreover, provision 43.02 of the Regulations of the UEFA Champions League 2015-18 Cycle provides that clubs may only register 25 players for the purpose of playing in the competition. Forcing clubs to sign players on indefinite contracts, combined with a limit placed on the amount of footballers that can be registered, will make it even more challenging for youngsters to enter the first team. Furthermore, as it is usually more difficult for the employer to terminate a contract, football clubs could be (indirectly) forced to keep those footballers who no longer fit the team’s tactics or club’s policy (e.g. focus on youth). In this respect, establishing contracts for an indefinite period as the industry’s standard could again negatively influence the chances of young players signing a contract. Furthermore, clubs need to be able to adjust their squads and establish stable teams in order to effectively compete on both national and international levels, and to retain, attract and satisfy their supporters. In our view, fixed-term contracts, by their very nature, are therefore better suited to address the specific characteristics of football as a sport, and as an industry.

C. Possible obstacles to the application of ‘objective reasons’ justification to contracts in football
Nevertheless, even if it is accepted that successive fixed-term contracts between footballers and their clubs may be justified based on objective reasons, it still remains that the justification does not necessarily apply. First, the Member States are free to choose between the clause 5 measures. Consequently, the very possibility of relying on objective reasons depends on the manner in which the Directive has been implemented by the Member States.[42] Second, national implementing measures must comply with the requirements established by the CJEU. Therefore, the Member States that chose to make use of the objective reasons justification are obliged to establish objective factors on the basis of which the application of the justification will be assessed. A general provision of a purely formal nature which does not provide for such objective factors will not be deemed compatible with EU law. In this regard, the criteria or factors established under national law must be capable of being applied to contracts in football. Consequently, national law implementing clause 5 objective reasons needs to be drafted in a manner which allows football contracts to be considered for the purpose of applying the justification, which might be problematic given the fact that the issue has been largely neglected. Third, it has also been established by the CJEU that national laws which allow for the use of successive fixed-term contracts in the context of employers’ needs which are ‘fixed and permanent’ will not be compatible with the Directive. It would go contrary to the objectives pursued by clause 5, i.e. prevention of abuse arising out of successive fixed-term contracts, to allow renewal of such contracts to cover ‘fixed and permanent’ needs of employers.[43] Therefore, if the ‘needs’ of football clubs are considered to be of such a ‘fixed and permanent’ character, and it may be argued that they are, then reliance on the justification would also be endangered.

Concluding remarks
The ruling of the Mainz court questioned, at least in Germany, the current arrangements whereby contracts for a definite period have been established as the industry’s worldwide standard.[44] Consequently, it cannot be excluded that the judgment will once again feed the never-ending discussion on the impact of European law on sport, the debate on the notion of specificity of sport, and more generally, the boundaries between the European Union’s intervention in sport and the autonomy of sports governing bodies. It is safe to assume that considerable controversies will arise in case the decision of the court in Mainz is upheld at higher instances. This, however, will not be the making of the courts, but to a large extent the result of the issue being neglected for years. After all, the Directive was adopted already sixteen years ago and contains no provisions allowing sport to be exempted from its scope. It follows that based on its wording it must also apply to contracts concluded between footballers and clubs. Even though it is possible to justify the successive use of fixed-term contracts on the basis of objective reasons, this depends on the national implementing measures, which do not necessarily provide for such a possibility or are fit to accommodate football contracts.

[1] Council Directive 1999/70/EC concerning the framework agreement on fixed-term work concluded by ETUC, UNICE and CEEP [1999] OJ L 175/43 (Directive)

[2] Annex to the Directive, ETUC-UNICE-CEEP Framework Agreement on Fixed-Term Work (Framework Agreement)

[3] Framework Agreement, recital 14 and clause 1

[4] Clause 1 of the Framework Agreement also mentions a second goal, namely, the improvement of quality of fixed-term work by ensuring the application of the principle of non-discrimination. In this regard, Recital 9 of the Framework Agreement adds that the instrument is to contribute to the improvement of equality of opportunities between men and women

[5] Philippa Watson, EU Social and Employment Law (2^nd edn, Oxford University Press 2014) p 241; see also case C-212/04 Konstantinos Adeneler en anderen tegen Ellinikos Organismos Galaktos (ELOG) [2006] ECR I-6057 (Adeneler), para 57

[6] However, the definition of what constitutes a fixed-term employment has an EU definition. See Directive, clause 3(1)

[7] See also art. 288 TFEU; Adeneler, para 68

[8] Case C-307/05 Yolanda Del Cerro Alonso v Osakidetza-Servicio Vasco de Salud [2007] ECR I-7109 (Del Cerro)

[9] Ibidem, para 28

[10] Ibidem, para 29

[11] Del Cerro, Opinion of AG Maduro, para 14

[12] Ibidem, para 15

[13] Ibidem; see also case C-393/10 Dermod Patrick O’Brien v Ministry of Justice [2012] published in the electronic Reports of cases (O’Brien), para 51

[14] Case C-157/11 Giuseppe Sibilio v Comune di Afragola [2012] published in the electronic Reports of cases (Sibilio)

[15] Ibidem, para 49

[16] Ibidem, para 51; see also O’Brien, para 51

[17] Sibilio, para 52

[18] Joined cases C-362/13 REC, C-363/13 REC and C-407/13 REC Maurizio Fiamingo, Leonardo Zappalà and Francesco Rotondo and Others v Rete Ferroviaria Italiana SpA [2014] not yet published (Fiamingo)

[19] Joined cases C-22/13, C-61/13 to C-63/13 and C-418/13 Raffaella Mascolo, Alba Forni and Immacolata Racca v Ministero dell'Istruzione, dell'Università e della Ricerca, Fortuna Russo v Comune di Napoli and Carla Napolitano and Others v Ministero dell’Istruzione, dell’Università e della Ricerca [2014] not yet published (Mascolo)

[20] Fiamingo, para 38; Mascolo, para 69

[21] Case C-66/85 Deborah Lawrie-Blum v Land Baden-Württemberg [1986] ECR 2121

[22] Ibidem, para 17

[23] Case C-456/02 Michel Trojani v Centre public d'aide sociale de Bruxelles (CPAS) [2004] ECR I-7573

[24] Ibidem, para 15

[25] For a more detailed discussion see Stefaan Van den Bogaert, Practical Regulation of the Mobility of Sportsmen in the EU Post Bosman (Kluwer Law International, The Hague 2005) pp 57-59

[26] Case C-415/93 Union royale belge des sociétés de football association ASBL v Jean-Marc Bosman, Royal club liégeois SA v Jean-Marc Bosman and others and Union des associations européennes de football (UEFA) v Jean-Marc Bosman [1995] ECR I-4921

[27] Ibidem, paras 74, 87, 90

[28] Case C-325/08 Olympique Lyonnais SASP v Olivier Bernard and Newcastle UFC [2010] ECR I-2177 (Olympique Lyonnais), para 29; Olympique Lyonnais, Opinion of AG Sharpston, para 38

[29] Framework Agreement, recital 6; see also Adeneler, para 61

[30] See supra note 5

[31] Ibidem, para 69

[32] Ibidem, para 70

[33] Ibidem, para 72

[34] Ibidem, para 71

[35] Ibidem, para 74

[36] Ibidem, para 88

[37] Joined cases C-378/07 to C-380/07 Kiriaki Angelidaki and Others v Organismos Nomarchiakis Autodioikisis Rethymnis, Charikleia Giannoudi v Dimos Geropotamou and Georgios Karabousanos and Sofoklis Michopoulos v Dimos Geropotamou [2009] ECR I-3071 (Angelidaki)

[38] Case C-586/10 Bianca Kücük v Land Nordrhein-Westfalen [2012] published in the electronic Reports of cases

[39] Ibidem, para 38

[40] Ibidem

[41] Framework Agreement, recital 8

[42] See e.g. Fiamingo, para 61

[43] See e.g. Angelidaki, para 103; Angelidaki, Opinion of AG Kokott, paras 106-107;

[44] In this regard art. 18(2) of 2015 FIFA’s Regulations on the Status and Transfer of Players stipulates that ‘[t]he minimum length of a contract shall be from its effective date until the end of the season, while the maximum length of a contract shall be five years. Contracts of any other length shall only be permitted if consistent with national laws’