Asser International Sports Law Blog

Our International Sports Law Diary
The Asser International Sports Law Centre is part of the T.M.C. Asser Instituut

Unpacking Doyen’s TPO Deals: In defence of the compatibility of FIFA’s TPO ban with EU law

FIFA’s Third-Party Ownership (TPO) ban entered into force on the 1 May 2015[1]. Since then, an academic and practitioner’s debate is raging over its compatibility with EU law, and in particular the EU Free Movement rights and competition rules. 

The European Commission, national courts (and probably in the end the Court of Justice of the EU) and the Court of Arbitration for Sport (CAS) will soon have to propose their interpretations of the impact of EU law on FIFA’s TPO ban. Advised by the world-famous Bosman lawyer, Jean-Louis Dupont, Doyen has decided to wage through a proxy (the Belgian club FC Seraing) a legal war against the ban. The first skirmishes have already taken place in front of the Brussels Court of first instance, which denied in July Seraing’s request for provisional measures. For its part, FIFA has already sanctioned the club for closing a TPO deal with Doyen, thus opening the way to an ultimate appeal to the CAS. In parallel, the Spanish and Portuguese leagues have lodged a complaint with the European Commission arguing that the FIFA ban is contrary to EU competition law. One academic has already published an assessment of the compatibility of the ban with EU law, and many practitioners have offered their take (see here and here for example). It is undeniable that the FIFA ban is per se restrictive of the economic freedoms of investors and can easily be constructed as a restriction on free competition. Yet, the key and core question under an EU law analysis, is not whether the ban is restrictive (any regulation inherently is), but whether it is proportionate, in other words justified.

I will first present the key arguments of the opponents of the ban, before offering my own assessment. As the reader might know, I am no friends of FIFA and a staunch critic of its bad governance syndrome. Although I am convinced that FIFA’s governance deserves a ground-up rebuilt, I also believe that FIFA’s TPO ban is justified.

 

I.               Antithesis: FIFA’s TPO ban is contrary to EU law 

The legal waters are very much chartered insofar as the question of the application of EU law to FIFA’s TPO ban is concerned.[2] The key legacy of the CJEU’s jurisprudence on sport, starting with the Bosman ruling, is that FIFA’s regulations do not escape the reach of EU law and that they must be subjected to a proportionality control of the restrictions they impose on economic freedoms. The fundamental question with respect to the TPO ban is then whether it will be deemed justified and proportionate by the national courts, the CAS, the European Commission and ultimately the CJEU.

The opponents of the FIFA ban consider first and foremost that the practice of TPO (they usually prefer to refer to as Third-Party Investments or Third-Party Entitlements) is a legitimate financial investment practice, which is needed to sustain and raise the competitiveness of certain clubs. Basically if banks are reluctant to finance those clubs, then less risk-averse investors have to step in. Thus, they support investment in the training capacity of the clubs (especially in South America) and their capacity to take their chances in the most prestigious competitions (for example FC Porto or Atlético Madrid). Hence, TPO can be seen as a legitimate investment practice and its regulation left to the contractual freedom of the parties. Such a radical libertarian view is not often supported nowadays,[3] as the potential integrity risks of TPO are widely acknowledged.[4]

Instead, if the risks connected to TPO are to be tackled, it is argued that TPO should be properly regulated. In EU law jargon, this is labelled a less restrictive alternative.[5] The existence of a less restrictive alternative would point at the disproportionate nature of the FIFA ban. For example, a bundle of regulatory measures are suggested by the Spanish league (La Liga):

·      Prohibition of certain transactions based on the player's age;

·      Maximum percentage of participation in the "economic rights";

·      Quantitative limitations on the maximum number of players per club;

·      Maximum remuneration for the investor;

·      Prohibition of certain clauses that may limit the independence and autonomy of the clubs; and

·      Prohibition of transactions depending on the investor's particular status or business (or participation in the same) such as shareholders, directors and managers of the clubs.

The proposed regulatory changes would undeniably be an improvement with regard to the current situation. However, I do not believe they are sufficiently credible to undermine the legality of FIFA’s TPO ban.

 

II.             Thesis: FIFA’s TPO ban is compatible with EU law

A.    The necessity to tackle the integrity risks generated by TPO

First, we need to come back to the function and functioning of TPO deals. There is a reason why banks refuse to offer loans to certain clubs. They are often in difficult financial situations, their revenues do not add up with their expenses. Investment funds fill this gap, they replace banks in financially supporting these clubs. In return, they expect a modern version of the “pound of flesh”, a share of the transfer fee attached to a specific player. For a club, the TPO investments will only be fruitful while it is successful on the pitch and lucky in picking the players it recruits. It is a very risky bet on the future. In good times everybody wins, but in bad times the club is in deep trouble (see FC Twente’s fate). The TPO system works as a devil’s circle, the club is drawn into more and more TPO deals to stay financially viable.

Furthermore, TPO deals are not unlike the complex financial instruments that led to the terrible financial crisis of 2008. They give way to similar conflicts of interest. Where banks were selling derivatives based on subprime mortgages to their clients while betting against them at the same time, TPO funds might push their clients to recruit (thanks to loans they have generously provided for high interests) a mediocre player in which they already have a stake. Another option would be for a TPO fund, which is often (if not always) also acting as an agent, to force the departure of a player by triggering an offer which the club cannot refuse (or it would have to buy back the rights which is impossible due to its financial situation). The many hat(s) of TPO investment funds are extremely worrying in terms of conflicts of interest.[6] The most dangerous, though in my view less likely (but see the Tampere case), risk being that TPO investors would use their broad networks of influence to fix games. FIFA’s objective of curbing those risks is clearly a legitimate one.

The heart of the trade of TPO funds is to leverage the hubris of football clubs, to corner them into making a bad financial deal in return for a credible shot at winning a title. But once the high is over, the low starts and the awakening is rather uncomfortable. The high financial risks saddled to the club are sustainable only so long as it is a winner. As soon as its fate on the pitch turns, the bad news accumulates and not unlike a bank run the club crashes, while the investors have more often than not managed to escape before the fall. In short, unless you truly believe in the superpowers of the invisible hand of the market, this practice, as well as the financial practices that led to the financial crisis, deserves either a thorough regulation or an outright ban.

B.    Is there a realistic regulatory alternative to the ban?

The key question for the assessment of the TPO ban under EU law is whether the many negative externalities triggered by the use of TPO could be tackled by the way of a less restrictive encroachment on the economic freedoms of the investors/clubs than the FIFA ban. Critics of the ban have very much insisted on the existence of less restrictive regulatory alternatives and put forward some proposals. Yet, I am of the opinion that these alternatives are generally unworkable in the present context. The main reason being that FIFA is incapable to properly regulate and control the TPO investment market. This is due to the fact that FIFA does not dispose of the legal competence needed to force investment funds to disclose information. To do so, it must be empowered by governments to be able to cease the information wanted, which is unlikely. Some would object, that this could be done via the FIFA TMS system put in place to supervise international transfers. But it would be extremely difficult for FIFA to verify any complex set of contractual information entered into the TMS. The destiny of former article 18 bis of the FIFA Regulations on the Status and Transfers of Players (see the 2014 version here) is there to prove this point. Under article 4.2 of Annexe 3 of the FIFA RSTP 2014, Clubs were already supposed to provide a “Declaration on third-party payments and influence”. Nonetheless, in previous years, FIFA was unable to charge any club (except for Tampere in a match-fixing context and due to a local police investigation) on the ground that an investor was exercising undue influence, mainly because it lacked the knowledge needed to do so. This is exemplified in the case of the ERPA signed by Doyen and FC Twente, which was only partially disclosed to the Dutch Football Association.

If FIFA is powerless, how is it supposed to enforce the ban? Well here lies the crucial difference between a ban and complex regulation. A ban is simpler to enforce, as it is merely a black-or-white matter. FIFA will be able to rely on investigative journalists unearthing investment contracts linked to transfers. The mere existence of a TPO contract will lead to a dissuasive sanction, without the need to get into the nitty-gritty details of each case. It thus makes it easier for FIFA to control the use of TPO and to force investment funds to come out in the open and take charge of the management of a club if they wish to stay active on the transfer market. The higher probability of being caught linked to the use of TPO will most likely work as a strong deterrent for clubs to engage in such a financing practice. This is undeniably a blunt instrument, and in an ideal world a true regulation of the TPO market would be put in place and enforced, but this ideal world is not compatible with the pluralist and complex transnational legal setting in which the transfer system operates. The complex regulatory schemes proposed as substitute to the ban are very well intended, but they do not take into account the extreme difficulty (and costs) linked to their implementation. The fiasco of the old FIFA Players’ Agents Regulations illustrates the practical constraints that burden any regulation of the football transfer market.

C.    TPO is not compatible with the 2001 agreement between the European Commission and FIFA

There is a final argument in favour of the compatibility of the TPO ban with EU law, which is grounded in the 2001 agreement between FIFA, UEFA and the European Commission. As should be obvious by now, the existence of TPO is dependent on the existence of the FIFA transfer system. Such a transfer system is unknown in other industries (though one could very well imagine a transfer system for academics for example). In turn, the FIFA transfer system restricts the economic freedom of both clubs and players. The European Commission highlighted these restrictions during its investigation of the FIFA transfer system in the early 2000s. However, the Commission signed an agreement with FIFA and UEFA signalizing its support for a new (the current) FIFA transfer system in 2001 and put an end to its investigation. This support was conditioned on the idea that a form of transfer system was needed to maintain the contractual stability necessary to the existence of stable and successful teams.[7] This is the fundamental assumption that underlies the compatibility with EU law of the FIFA transfer system, and therefore the sheer existence of TPO. Yet, TPO as a practice is per se promoting contractual instability. Players have to change clubs for TPO investors to cash in on their investments. It is perfectly logical for TPO contracts to include various clauses strongly incentivizing clubs to sell their players. If not, they will have to bear the costs, for example, of paying a fee (usually the invested amount plus a healthy interest) in case the player leaves the club on a free transfer, or forcing the club to buy back at market rate the investors’ shares in the economic right of a player in case of an offer above a minimum price. For a cash-strapped club, e.g. a club that lost access to the banking system and has to turn to TPO investors, this is usually impossible and means that it will be forced to sell-on the player. In a way, TPO is a radical perversion of the deal stroke by FIFA/UEFA and the Commission. The transfer system was meant to ensure that contractual stability is secured in football, not to enhance contractual instability. This contradiction between TPO and the rationale conditioning the legality under EU law of the FIFA transfer system will necessarily bear on the EU Commission’s analysis of FIFA’s TPO ban.

 

Conclusion: TPO is a symptom, the transfer system is the problem

20 years of the Bosman case oblige, the case has been back in the news cycle this week (see here, here, and here). It is widely credited, or rather blamed, for having changed football for bad, turning it into some kind of commercial monster. I very much doubt this storytelling is right. It is based on a collective misreading of the case. Bosman took stock of a contemporary development in football at that time: the eagerness of the “football family” to commercialize its activities by primarily selling TV rights in a monopoly position. What Bosman is about, then, it is the regulation of this economic activity. Central questions are: How should the proceeds be distributed and especially who should bear the costs of ensuring competitive balance amongst the teams? Until Bosman the players were the main losers, they could not move freely across Europe and in some countries they could not transfer for free even after the end of their contracts. This situation was deemed an unjustified restriction on the player’s freedom by the Court. Nevertheless, and this is widely forgotten, Bosman is not about dogmatically ensuring that economic freedoms and a deregulated market always prevail. In fact, Advocate General Lenz was advocating as an alternative to the transfer system that the economic revenues derived from TV rights be shared more equally to ensure competitive balance.[8] This is obviously an important restriction on the economic freedom of clubs and leagues, yet the Court endorsed it as viable alternative.[9] Since then, the Court has repeatedly approved various type of sporting regulations restricting the economic freedoms of athletes or clubs.[10] After Bosman, FIFA and UEFA (supported by many clubs) insisted on maintaining a transfer system instead of the alternative suggested by Lenz and the Court. Despite the Commission’s aforementioned challenge of the legality of the FIFA transfer system, FIFA and UEFA were able to marshal the political support of the most influential Member States (France, Germany and the UK) in their bid to save the transfer system.[11] This led to the 2001 agreement and to the survival of the transfer system in its current form.

It is certainly ironical that the transfer system is based on the same legal principles denounced by UEFA and FIFA officials when they talk of slavery regarding TPO. This hypocrisy, rightly pointed out by the critics of the ban,[12] does not entail that the TPO ban is contrary to EU law, as they in turn seem to assume. However, it does imply that TPO as a practice is just the tip of the iceberg. In fact, it is a symptom, as well as the murky world of agents, of a global transfer market gone rogue. This is due mainly to the insistence of FIFA in transforming players into moveable assets included on the balance sheets of clubs. The transfer system is certainly not about contractual stability or the financing of training facilities. Indeed, FIFA is trumpeting the growing number of transfers each year (see this year’s celebratory press release here) and is very much dragging its feet as far as enforcing training compensations and solidarity payments is concerned.[13] Undoubtedly, there is some doublespeak going on. If clubs are forced to turn to TPO investors it is mainly because FIFA and UEFA (and the big clubs) have refused to put in place the necessary redistributive mechanisms to ensure a minimum of competitive balance as was advocated by the CJEU in the Bosman ruling 20 years ago (and by the EU Commission recently). Instead, they have put their faith into a transfer system that is neither correcting competitive imbalances nor guaranteeing contractual stability (a view supported by Stefan Szymanski on behalf of FIFPro). FIFA has lost control over its Frankenstein-like transfer system and it is desperately trying to rein its negative externalities with regulatory patches (e.g. UEFA’s Financial Fair-play Rules or FIFA’s TPO ban). In this regard, the TPO ban is unlikely to contravene EU law, but it is also unlikely to be a solution to the many problems caused by FIFA and UEFA’s handling of the post-Bosman football era.


[1] See FIFA Circular no. 1464 announcing the ban.

[2] This is well done by Johan Lindholm in his article: Can I please have a slice of Ronaldo? The legality of FIFA’s ban on third-party ownership under European union law.

[3] The Spanish Competition Authority comes close to such a view in its advisory opinion criticizing FIFA’s TPO ban. It states at page 6 (in Spanish): “Se ha de partir del hecho de que si el mercado ha facilitado la aparición de estas operaciones es porque una multitud de agentes (tanto clubs como jugadores), actuando de manera descentralizada, han considerado que es lo mejor para sus intereses. Por tanto, la prohibición del TPO resulta en una limitación de la capacidad de obrar y de la libertad de empresa, restringiendo el uso de una conducta que en principio es maximizadora de beneficios (o minimizadora de pérdidas).”

[4] Even though very reluctantly by the Spanish Competition Authority, see p.9-10.

[5] This is also the view of Johan Lindholm, he considers that “regulation is likely a legally more successful response to the perceived ills of TPO”.

[6] This is also true for other types of third party funding, for example in arbitration.

[7] This is in essence the meaning of paragraph 57 of the EU Commission’s rejection decision in the Affaire IV/36 583-SETCA-FGTB/FIFA. The paragraph states : « La protection des contrats pendant une période de durée limitée qui se traduit par des sanctions correspondant notamment à la suspension du joueur pendant une période de 4 mois à 6 mois (dans des cas de récidives) semble indispensable pour garantir la construction d’une équipe. Un club a besoin d’un temps minimum pour construire son équipe. Si un joueur pouvait rompre unilatéralement son contrat dès la première année et être transféré à la fin de la saison vers un autre club, sans aucune sanction autre que la compensation financière, son club d’origine n’aurait pas de possibilité de construire convenablement son équipe. Les sanctions visent donc à démotiver les joueurs de rompre unilatéralement leurs contrats pendant les deux premières années pour permettre l’existence d’équipes stables. En raison des spécificités du secteur en cause la durée de la période protégée et des sanctions semble être proportionnée aux objectifs légitimes quelles visent à atteindre. »

[8] See in particular paragraphs 218-234 of his Opinion.

[9] See para. 110 of the Bosman ruling.

[10] For example: Selection rules in Deliège; Transfer windows in Lehtonen; FIFA’s agent regulation in Piau; Doping sanctions in Meca-Medina; Training compensations in Bernard. The European Commission also recognised the legality of UEFA’s rule limiting the multiple ownership of clubs in ENIC.

[11] On this episode see Borja Garcia’s article, ‘The 2001 informal agreement on the international transfer system’.

[12] In his article Johan Lindholm criticizes this moral posture taken by FIFA and UEFA. He rightly points at its hypocrisy: “[…] a third party owning fifty percent of the economic rights to a player is the very height of moral corruption, but a club owning one hundred percent of the same right is not only perfectly acceptable but also applauded”.

[13] A recent study commissioned by the European Clubs Association (ECA) on the transfer market, shows (at page 88) that the solidarity payments are way below the 5% threshold imposed by the FIFA RSTP (reaching instead only 1,15% of the transfer fees).

Comments are closed
Asser International Sports Law Blog | 20 Years After Bosman - The New Frontiers of EU Law and Sport - Special Issue of the Maastricht Journal of European and Comparative Law

Asser International Sports Law Blog

Our International Sports Law Diary
The Asser International Sports Law Centre is part of the T.M.C. Asser Instituut

20 Years After Bosman - The New Frontiers of EU Law and Sport - Special Issue of the Maastricht Journal of European and Comparative Law

Editor's note: This is a short introduction written for the special Issue of the Maastricht Journal of European and Comparative Law celebrating the 20 years of the Bosman ruling and dedicated to the new frontiers of EU law and Sport (the articles are available here). For those willing to gain a deeper insight into the content of the Issue we organize (in collaboration with Maastricht University and the Maastricht Journal) a launching event with many of the authors in Brussels tomorrow (More info here).



 20 Years After Bosman - The New Frontiers of EU Law and Sport

By Antoine Duval

The Bosman ruling is not just another ruling of the Court of Justice of the EU (CJEU), it is by far the most well-known decision of the Court outside of the Euro-bubble.[1] In the UK the phrase ‘a Bosman’ is commonly used to qualify the free move of a football player to a new club at the end of his contract. Beyond its anchoring in the English idiom, Bosman stands out as a shared European reference. However, it is often – misleadingly - credited for all the ills and wrongs of football. In any case, it is part and parcel of the European (even worldwide) public debate on football and its regulation. If a European public sphere is to emerge at some point, the heated public discussion that was triggered in Europe by Bosman is probably an avant-goût of it. Therefore, 20 years after the ruling, the least a European sports lawyer and academic can do, is to acknowledge ones indebtedness and, to some extent, gratitude for this ruling.

One aspect that needs to be emphasized is that Bosman is not an instrument with the paramount objective to deregulate the football market or the world of sport in general. It is not, as many on the side of the Sports Governing Bodies (SGBs), and FIFA and UEFA in particular, have portrayed it, a decision aimed at destroying the transnational legal system (also known as lex sportiva) they had put in place to coordinate the organization and unfolding of transnational sporting competitions. On the contrary, SGBs have the possibility to justify their rules and regulations. As Stephen Weatherill rightly pointed out long ago, the only requirement SGBs have to fulfil to ensure that their regulations comply with EU law is to explain convincingly why they are needed.[2] Thus, a constructive (and positive) perspective on Bosman stresses its constitutional over its deregulatory function. Private regulations adopted by private powers, which are not particularly renowned for the quality of their governance, need to be subject to checks and balances. After Bosman, the EU free movement rights and competition law have impersonated such a check on (or counter-power to) the rules privately adopted and enforced by SGBs. In fact, it is here that the true, long-lasting legacy of Bosman lies.

This issue brings together a mixed line-up of both young and established scholars, sports law experts and EU law specialists, to discuss the legacy of Bosman and the future of the relationship between EU law and sport. Besides the synthetic and comprehensive introductory piece of Stefaan Van Den Bogaert that brings us back to the original crusade of Mr Bosman, all the contributions are geared towards the recent and future legacies of the ruling. A broad range of legal problems raised by the interaction of EU law and sport is touched upon. 

In the first article, Ben Van Rompuy builds on Advocate General Lenz’s conclusions in Bosman, the following practice adopted by the EU Commission as well as on the case law of the CJEU on competition law and sport to argue that competition law can be a powerful tool to impose a legal check on the regulatory practices of SGBs.

In the second piece, Phedon Nicolaides analyses a relatively new front line between EU law and sport: state aid. Although not directly connected to Bosman, state aid cases are taking a prominent place in the practice of the EU Commission in the field of sport. In fact, state aid law has become a useful legal proxy to control the way public authorities decide to support economically sporting organizations and their events.

The third piece by the editor of this issue is dedicated to the interaction between the Court of Arbitration for Sport (CAS) and EU law. Indeed, the emergence of the CAS is probably the most important institutional legacy of Bosman, and EU law now has a role to play in exercising a form of ‘Solange’ control over CAS’s judicial activity.

In the fourth article, which follows most clearly into the footpath of Bosman, Richard Parrish discusses the compatibility of the FIFA Regulations on the Status and Transfers of Players (RSTP) with EU law. He suggests that the RSTP as it stands can be deemed contrary to EU law.

The fifth article of the issue by Jacob Kornbeck, a former member of the sports unit of the European Commission, analyses the role of the Commission in the drafting process of the new World Anti-Doping Code recently adopted by the World Anti-Doping Agency. He highlights that the ethos of Bosman spread to other spheres of action of the EU in sport and shows concretely in what way it influenced the position of the EU in the negotiations over the new Code that entered into force in January 2015. Finally, Anna Sabrina Wollmann, Olivier Vonk and Gerard-René de Groot look at the growing problem of nationality requirements in sports. If Bosman stands more particularly for an Europeanization of football, globalization and the ease of cross-border movement for professional sportspeople have heightened the question of the sporting nationality of athletes worldwide. This contribution critically analyses the many calls for a separate sporting nationality and proposes an alternative path.


[1] 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, EU:C:1995:463.

[2] ‘The ECJ has collapsed the idea that there are purely sporting practices unaffected by EC law despite their economic effect, but it has not refused to accept that sport is special. Its message to governing bodies – explain how!’, S. Weatherill, European Sports Law (T.M.C. Asser Press, 2007), p. 353.


Comments are closed
Asser International Sports Law Blog | A Reflection on the Second Report of FIFA’s Human Rights Advisory Board - By Daniela Heerdt (Tilburg University)

Asser International Sports Law Blog

Our International Sports Law Diary
The Asser International Sports Law Centre is part of the T.M.C. Asser Instituut

A Reflection on the Second Report of FIFA’s Human Rights Advisory Board - By Daniela Heerdt (Tilburg University)

Editor's note: Daniela Heerdt is a PhD candidate at Tilburg Law School in the Netherlands and works as Research Officer for the Centre for Sports and Human Rights. Her PhD research deals with the establishment of responsibility and accountability for adverse human rights impacts of mega-sporting events, with a focus on FIFA World Cups and Olympic Games. She published an article in the International Sports Law Journal that discusses to what extent the revised bidding and hosting regulations by FIFA, the IOC and UEFA strengthen access to remedy for mega-sporting events-related human rights violations.

 

On November 26th, the Human Rights Advisory Board[1] of the Fédération Internationale de Football Association (FIFA) published its second report. This blog provides a summary and brief evaluation of the report, by drawing a comparison to the previous report issued by the Human Rights Advisory Board (hereinafter: the Board) based on the content of the recommendations and FIFA’s efforts to implement the Board’s recommendations. The third part of this blog briefly reflects on the broader implications of some of the new recommendations issued for FIFA’s internal policies. The conclusion provides five more general points of observation on the report.


Old and New Recommendations

In its second report, the Board makes 30 ‘specific recommendations’ to FIFA, just slightly less than the previous one. However, not all of these recommendations are new to FIFA. A number of them have been released in the two update statements the Board released since the publication of its first report, one in May 2018 and one in October 2018. Two more sets of recommendations were communicated to FIFA in December 2017 and February 2018, which are as well included in this new report, but which have not been reported publicly before.

Content-wise, most of the recommendations still deal with the human rights risks associated with FIFA’s upcoming and past events. The recommendations made with regard to the human rights issues surrounding the 2018 World Cup hosted by Russia have been issued in December 2017 and concern the general situation and human rights of construction workers, human rights defenders and media representatives, mostly recommending that FIFA should use its leverage to address these issues with the government or other relevant stakeholders, such as the Local Organizing Committee (LOC). Another December-recommendation concerned the sharing of measures taken by FIFA to investigate the involvement of Russia football players in the Russian doping scandal. Furthermore, the report includes the Board’s recommendations regarding the controversies surrounding the choice of accommodation of the Egyptian national team[2], which had been addressed in a set of recommendations initially issued in February 2018[AD1] . With regard to the human rights requirements for hosting the 2026 FIFA World Cup, the report repeats the recommendation issued in May 2018, concerning FIFA’s task to take into account the capacity of bidders to assess and manage human rights risks when deciding for a host. On this issue, the report also introduces a new recommendation for FIFA to reflect on the inclusion of human rights into the bidding requirements. Furthermore, the report also includes ‘interim recommendations’ in relation to the FIFA World Cup 2022 in Qatar, and disclosed that a more detailed set of recommendations can be expected shortly.[3]

While these issues were already present in the first report, four new issues have been added in this second report by the Board:

  • player’s rights,
  • child safeguarding,
  • the ban on woman attending sport matches in Iran,
  • and FIFA’s approach to engagement and communication on human rights.[4]

With regard to player’s rights, the Board’s recommendations focus on access to remedy and FIFA’s evaluation of existing football arbitration mechanisms from a human rights perspective, the rules of the employment market for players and FIFA’s review of these rules, and on FIFA’s regulations on player’s rights which need to take the specific situation of children into account. Concerning child safeguarding, the Board recommends that FIFA’s safeguarding working group should conduct a comprehensive stakeholder consultation to identify the responsibilities of member associations concerning child players. Regarding the issue of discrimination against women in Iran, the Board recommends for FIFA to use its leverage on the Iranian Association and to issue sanctions if nothing is changing. Finally, on FIFA’s approach to engagement and communication on human rights issues, the Board recommends that FIFA establishes a systematic annual dialogue with key stakeholders, in addition to individual and event-specific stakeholder engagement and that it adopts a transparent approach on negative impacts connected to FIFA’s activities. Furthermore, the Board calls on FIFA to communicate this approach and share relevant information with confederations and member associations.

What also changed in the second report is that the Board does not issue requests to FIFA anymore. All measures proposed are formulated as recommendations. However, it is questionable to what extent the requests entailed in the first report really made a difference, since the majority of these requests were merely inquiries for more information or clarifications on certain issues.[5] Such requests about additional information or more transparency on certain issues are now included in the recommendations, such as in recommendation R42, asking FIFA to “be as transparent as possible” and to “proactively publish the steps it has taken”.[6] 


The New Tracking System

The second report of FIFA’s Human Rights Advisory Board is not only longer in terms of page numbers  but it also provides more detailed insights into human rights-related efforts FIFA undertook in the past year and continues to undertake, based on the recommendations it received. While in the first report, ‘part B’ consisted of a general overview of FIFA’s human rights efforts up to that point in time, ‘part B’ in the new report lists concrete measures taken by FIFA in reaction to the recommendations issued by the Board in its first report and other recommendations statements made in the past year. To assess these measures, the second report introduces a tracking system, which ranks the status of FIFA’s implementation of the Board’s recommendations from 1 to 4, moving from no implementation (1), to ongoing implementation (2), to advanced implementation (3), and to full or “closed out” implementation (4).[7]

There is only one recommendation for which implementation has not yet started (category 1) according to the Board. This concerns the promotion of a policy with host countries of direct employment of construction workers to prevent the strong reliance on subcontractors, which involves greater risks for workers and migrant workers in particular.[8] Ongoing implementation (category 2) has been observed in relation to the embedding of human rights throughout the FIFA organisation, including relevant committees and key staff, as well as its member associations, the testing of the method of risk identification with informed stakeholders to confirm or challenge findings, and the joint inspections together with LOCs. Furthermore, the Board assessed that implementation is ongoing for three other recommendations: first, FIFA’s considerations on how it can make the most efficient use of its leverage when it comes to the issue of security arrangements linked to hosting a FIFA event; secondly, the publishing of information on the design, operation, and the results of the monitoring of construction sites; and thirdly, making prompt and factual statements to show awareness and knowledge about critical human rights issues when they arise. The Board found that FIFA made considerable advancement (category 3) in developing a system for risk identification,  such as monitoring systems or the detailed human rights salience analysis that is part of the Sustainability Strategy and policy of the 2022 World Cup, as well as in identifying risks to fundamental civil and political rights and communicating its expectation to respect these rights with host governments.

The adoption of a human rights policy has been assessed as fully implemented (category 4). The same evaluation has been made in relation to the recommendations for the 2018 and 2022 FIFA World Cup tournaments, as well as for the bidding processes and the 2026 FIFA World Cup. However, even though the implementation efforts concerning these issues have been evaluated under the same category, taking a closer look reveals that the actual status of implementation is not the same. This is because category 4 combines two criteria, which in fact reflect very different results. ‘Full implementation’ does not necessarily reflect the same situation as ‘closed out implementation’. In other words, a reason for an implementation to end (‘close out’) is not necessarily linked to the fact that the recommended measure has been implemented in its entirety. In fact, full implementation of a certain measure can produce a completely different scenario than abandoning a certain recommendation or measure.

This can be illustrated by taking a closer look at the implementation of measures recommended to FIFA concerning the handling of human rights issues related to the 2018 World Cup. Most of them have been assessed as fully implemented or closed out, and so have the measures taken in relation to the 2022 World Cup. In reality, however, the 2018 World Cup lies in the past and the majority of measures taken in that context were discontinued before they could fully be implemented. For example, the recommendation on offering the Egyptian team an alternative location, including the financial support needed, has been evaluated as ‘closed out’, even though the Egyptian team in the end decided to stick with Grozny. The same can be said about the recommendation that FIFA should raise with the LOC that timely compensation is provided in case a worker on the World Cup construction sites got injured. Even though FIFA states that they did not have access to any financial records that would allow a verification of cash flows, the recommendation has been evaluated as “implemented/closed out”.[9] Due to this combination of two criteria under category 4, simply taking a look at the tabular overview provided at the end of the report[10] can create a distorted picture of the actual implementation status of the Board’s recommendations. Instead, a more careful look at FIFA’s actual efforts on certain issues is necessary to fully understand whether FIFA was indeed successful in implementing a certain recommendation, or whether it just dropped the implementation, for instance because it was linked to a certain event that is over now. 


The Implications for FIFA’s Internal Policies

Some of the recommendations included in the report relate to how FIFA embeds its human rights commitments internally and within its member associations. For instance, according to the Board FIFA should discuss with the Board the reasons for the decision of the Ethics Committee to not publish a detailed explanation of how it reached a decision in a case, and that it should review its operations in that regard.[11] In addition, it recommends FIFA to be explicit with its member associations on what it expects and in what timeframe it expects them to align with FIFA’s human rights responsibilities. The Board also implies that anticipated sanctions should be included in FIFA Statutes, the Disciplinary Code and the Ethics Code.[12]

Furthermore, the update statement by FIFA in this second report reveals that a number of measures were taken in relation to embedding human rights in its organization, based on previous recommendations made by the Board.  For instance, FIFA Council and Committee members have to follow an e-learning course, which includes a human rights module, and a human rights working group has been established within FIFA’s Governance Committee. However, implementation on those matters is ongoing and it becomes clear that this so far has not been the focus of FIFA’s human rights-related efforts and more could be done in that regard.[13] The context and overview FIFA provides on embedding the respect for human rights is rather vague and the measures taken so far do not reach the entire FIFA organization.[14]


Conclusion

A number of general observations can be made based on this summary and comparison. First, most recommendations and action taken by FIFA seem to concentrate on FIFA’s commitment to identify and address human rights risks, which actually was already the case in the first report. Secondly, while FIFA’s events still seem to be a priority, the Board focused also on new issues. Yet, perhaps not enough attention is dedicated to changing FIFA’s international structures and culture into a well-established acceptance and reflection of FIFA’s human rights responsibilities. Furthermore, the report provides valuable and detailed insight into the progress made and how it is made, for instance in relation to FIFA’s leverage over Qatar’s Supreme Committee and the Qatari government to change certain regulations, the human rights defender cases in which FIFA intervened, or the external partners FIFA worked with to address certain human rights risks.[15] Finally, it is a comprehensive report, reflecting the Board’s understanding towards FIFA’s burden of having to address issues of “the past, present and future all at once”, and the fact that “FIFA has to deal with the legacy of decisions taken and contracts signed before the organisation recognized its human rights responsibilities”.[16] This also shows that FIFA takes the Board seriously and in many ways follows the Board’s recommendations.

In general, the fact that FIFA has an active Human Rights Advisory Board in place for more than a year now and renewed its mandate until the end of 2020 should be applauded.[17] Just this month, the International Olympic Committee announced that it is also setting up a Human Rights Advisory Committee, which is supposed to be fully operational by the 2024 Olympic Games, unfortunately not in time for the Beijing Winter Olympics in 2022.



[1] The members of the board are listed in the annex of the first report.

[2] Egypt’s national team chose Grozny, the capital of Chechnya, as its training camp during the World Cup 2018. FIFA authorized this choice, despite the fact that the region’s human rights record is dominated by cases of extrajudicial killings, torture, and enforced disappearances and the Head of the Chechen Republic, Ramzan Kadyrov, is known for his repression of journalists, critics, minority groups, and human rights defenders.  

[3] See p.19 of the second report

[4] Ibid., p 20

[5] See p. 5, 7, or 11 of the first report

[6] See p. 15 of the second report

[7] See p. 5 of the second report

[8] See p. 60 of the second report

[9] See p. 48 of the second report

[10] Ibid. p. 80 ff.

[11] Ibid. p. 27

[12] Ibid. p. 25

[13] Ibid. p. 34 f.

[14] Ibid. p. 33 & 35

[15] Ibid. pp. 17-18, 67, & 69

[16] Ibid. p. 28

[17] Ibid. p. 79


Comments are closed
Asser International Sports Law Blog | A personal reflection on the Summer Programme on Sports Governance and Human Rights - By Pedro José Mercado Jaén

Asser International Sports Law Blog

Our International Sports Law Diary
The Asser International Sports Law Centre is part of the T.M.C. Asser Instituut

A personal reflection on the Summer Programme on Sports Governance and Human Rights - By Pedro José Mercado Jaén

Editor’s note:Pedro is an intern at the Asser Institute and currently studying the Erasmus Mundus Master Degree in Sports Ethics and Integrity (KU Leuven et al.) He was one of the participants of the first edition of the Summer Programme on Sports Governance and Human Rights.


In early September, the first Summer Programme on the Governance of Sport and Human Rights took place at the Asser Institute. During one week, various experts in the field presented different lectures to a very diverse group of participants with a wide range of professional backgrounds. Being a participant myself, I would like to reflect on this one-week course and share what I learned.


Day I – Sport and human rights, more than a current debate

Over the last few years, social media, newspapers and academia have increasingly paid attention to the relationship between sport and human rights. On this first day of the course, we had the opportunity to understand the roots of this debate and its importance. Stephen Cockburn, Head of Economic and Social Justice at Amnesty International and also lead on sport and human rights, took us back to the 1978 FIFA World Cup in Argentina, when various civil society organisations (CSOs) were already advocating respect for human rights in the context of the tournament or even calling for a boycott of it. Stephen underlined the critical role that CSOs have played in pushing for greater respect for human rights in sport and how forty years after the World Cup in Argentina, the same situations and demands are often replicated. In this context, William Rook, Deputy Chief Executive and Chief Operational Officer of the Centre for Sport and Human Rights (CSHR) introduced the work of his organisation. Reviewing the background of the organisation’s establishment, as well as its vision for and mission in the sports industry, we were able to understand the importance of this type of institution to exert pressure and serve as a convening point between the different stakeholders. Finally, Dr Jörg Krieger closed the day with an overview of the history of the human rights movement in sport. Dr Krieger explained to us the fundamental role that human rights have played since the birth of sport and the Olympic movement and how understanding this evolution can help us to overcome the challenges we face today. Because as Winston Churchill wrote, “those that fail to learn from history are doomed to repeat it”.

At the end of this first day, all participants, speakers, and colleagues of the Asser Institute were able to connect more during an opening reception in a café in The Hague.

Day II – Integrating human rights in the governance of sport

How are sports organisations integrating human rights considerations and commitments into their governance? This was the central question of the second day of the course, where Rachel Davis, Co-founder and Vice President of Shift, brilliantly introduced the role that the UN Guiding Principles on Business and Human Rights (UNGPs) are playing in the development of human rights policies in sports organisations and especially in the organisation of sports events; aspects that were later developed by Alison Biscoe, from CSHR, who explained the process of creating a human rights policy and the challenges that come with it. Before that,  David Grevemberg, Chief Innovation and Partnerships Officer of the CSHR, introduced the ecosystem of sport, providing an overview of the different types of actors involved and interacting with each other. These talks helped us to understand the complexity behind sport governance and the obstacles that this ecosystem itself poses to the protection of human rights. Finally, both Gijs de Jong, Secretary-General of the Royal Netherlands Football Association (KNVB) and Dr Andreas Graf, Head of Human Rights & Anti-Discrimination at FIFA, explained how both institutions are working to address the human rights risks and impacts associated with their activities. De Jong explained how the KNVB focuses on advocacy and social media campaigns to raise awareness and Graf outlined how FIFA has focused its efforts on the development of a human rights policy and the implementation of human rights due diligence for the bidding, preparation and hosting of FIFA tournaments.

This day served to outline that although some organisations such as FIFA or the KNVB are taking action with varying degrees of success, there is still a long way ahead for most sport governing bodies to adequately address their human rights impacts and live up to their responsibility to respect human rights. The adoption of human rights policies is only the first step and subsequent steps are necessary for the implementation of these policies and to ensure that these policies are fully integrated by the members of these organisations, whether at an international or national level.

Day III – Human rights, Mega-Sporting Events (MSEs) and Qatar 2022

If we talk about human rights and sport, the first thing that comes to mind for many people is the FIFA World Cup Qatar 2022 and the situation of migrant workers building the infrastructure for the tournament. Therefore, the Qatar World Cup served as a case study on day three, which was dedicated to mega-sporting events.  An introduction to MSEs, their organisation and their human rights impacts was given by Dr Daniela Heerdt, which served as a basis for the following presentation by Natasha da Silva, Senior Policy Executive at the Australian Human Rights Commission. She presented the work that the Commission did for the human rights risk assessment for the 2023 Women’s World Cup. The result was a complex document that illustrates the different risks involved in organising this event. The afternoon’s case study on the Qatar 2022 World Cup included presentations by Mahmoud Qutub (Supreme Committee for Delivery and Legacy), Ambet Yuson (BWI), Mustafa Qadri (Equidem) and Dr Andreas Graf (FIFA). It was an enriching experience to listen in the same room the differing points of view and the approaches that each one uses to minimise (somehow) the negative impacts of the World Cup organisation.

Day IV – Athletes’ rights at FIFPro

After three days on the premises of the Asser Institute, we headed to the city of Hoofddorp, where FIFPro’s headquarters are located. There, different representatives of FIFPro presented the work of the organisation, how it is structured and functioning, as well as the different projects they have been involved in to advance the rights of professional football players. The topics varied, but always with athletes’ rights as the red thread. Andrea Florence, director of the Sports and Rights Alliance, also presented on the issue of child athletes and abuse in the sporting context. In my view, the most interesting part of the day came in the afternoon. Alexandra Gomez-Bruinewoud presented several cases that FIFPro has worked on or is currently working on. Afterwards, the participants were divided into groups and were asked to work on these cases and propose solutions to vindicate the rights of the players concerned. Thanks to this exercise, we realised how difficult it is to defend athletes’ rights and the complex institutional constraints and legal intricacies that must be navigated to uphold their rights. The day ended with a reception in FIFPro’s lounge, where we could chat with members of the organisation and share experiences and contacts.

Day V – Access to remedy

The three pillars of the UNGPs are “respect, protect and remedy”. For four days, we paid attention to the first two concepts, so the last day of the programme was logically focused on the remedy pillar. Both Dr Daniela Heerdt and Dr Antoine Duval introduced and defined the concept of remedy, as well as the deficiencies of the current sport system in order to address sport-related human rights harms. Including the ineffective role of the Court of Arbitration for Sports (CAS) in remedying sport-related human rights harms. To illustrate this, Patrick Bracher, director of Norton Rose Fulbright South Africa, illustrated the problems and difficulties involved in defending the rights of South African athlete Caster Semenya at the CAS and the Swiss Federal Tribunal. Finally, Florian Yelin, Head of Policy and Research at the World Player Association, presented the work that World Players has been doing and its proposal for an arbitration system outside the CAS. This mechanism attempts to alleviate the deficits of the CAS and serve as an alternative. However, it is still in the development phase, and it remains to be seen whether it will be able to become a real alternative in the future.

In a final and informal session of the course, all participants could freely share with the main coordinator of the course, Dr Daniela Heerdt, our opinion on the past days, what we have learned, what we enjoyed and what aspects of the course could be improved.

Final thoughts

News, conferences, tweets, academic articles... different are the sources that tell us about the role of human rights in sport. During years of studying this subject, I always missed a course that addressed this subject from both a theoretical and practical point of view. Being able to participate in the Summer Programme has been an enriching opportunity for me. I am not just talking about intellectual enrichment, as the amount of information and lessons learned has exceeded my expectations. I go beyond that. Sharing a week of learning with people from different nationalities, ages, cultures or professional backgrounds brings much more than hours of reading in front of the screen. When a group of individuals share the same interests and decide to invest their time and resources in learning about human rights and sport, the likelihood of learning increases exponentially. Over the course of five days, a community was created at the Asser Institute where people could discuss any topic, contrast different positions, challenge the speakers and, of course, share moments of laughter and anecdotes. And the latter is what the programme has given me the most. Meeting a magnificent group of professionals who, in their day-to-day work, fight for sport to have a positive impact on the human rights of all those who are part of its ecosystem.

Comments are closed
Asser International Sports Law Blog | Taking the Blue Pill or the Red Pill: Should Athletes Really Check their Medications against the Prohibited List Personally? - A Comment by Marjolaine Viret (University of Neuchâtel )

Asser International Sports Law Blog

Our International Sports Law Diary
The Asser International Sports Law Centre is part of the T.M.C. Asser Instituut

Taking the Blue Pill or the Red Pill: Should Athletes Really Check their Medications against the Prohibited List Personally? - A Comment by Marjolaine Viret (University of Neuchâtel )

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.

Comments are closed