The decision of the Bundesgerichtshof (BGH), the Highest Civil Court in Germany, in the Pechstein case was eagerly awaited. At the hearing in March, the Court decided it would pronounce itself on 7 June, and so it did. Let’s cut things short: it is a striking victory for the Court of Arbitration for Sport (CAS) and a bitter (provisory?) ending for Claudia Pechstein. The BGH’s press release is abundantly clear that the German judges endorsed the CAS uncritically on the two main legal questions: validity of forced CAS arbitration and the independence of the CAS. The CAS and ISU are surely right to rejoice and celebrate the ruling in their respective press releases that quickly ensued (here and here). At first glance, this ruling will be comforting the CAS’ jurisdiction for years to come. Claudia Pechstein’s dire financial fate - she faces up to 300 000€ in legal fees – will serve as a powerful repellent for any athlete willing to challenge the CAS.

Personally, I have, to put it mildly, mixed feelings regarding this decision. On the one hand, I am relieved that the BGH did not endorse the reasoning used by the Landgericht München in its ruling, challenging the necessity of forced CAS arbitration. But, on the other hand, I am rather disappointed that the BGH failed to endorse the balanced reasoning used by the Oberlandesgericht München in its decision (I translated the relevant parts of the ruling here). I believed this framing of the case would have offered a perfect vantage point to force a democratic reform of the CAS without threatening its existence. For those concerned with a potential flood of appeals, this could easily have been avoided by barring Claudia Pechstein to prevail on the merits of the case (or through preclusion for example). There was room for mild audacity and transnational constitutionalism (as I argued elsewhere), but the BGH opted for conservatism and conformism. I deeply regret it.

Though it is always perilous to comment on a case based only on a preliminary press release, I will offer here some (critical and preliminary) thoughts on the main aspects of the BGH’s legal reasoning.

I.               This is not forced arbitration (or is it?)

Paradoxically (or not), I chose to start with the end of the BGH’s press release discussing the validity of the arbitration agreement. The BGH is also very much drawn to paradoxes in this final paragraph of its press release. In a first sentence it states rather bluntly that Pechstein has freely signed the arbitration agreement in favour of the CAS.[1] Yet, conscious of the absurdity of such a claim (unless one means only that Pechstein was free to decide to become a professional speed-skater), it immediately qualifies its assertion by claiming that in any case the fact that she was forced to sign the agreement does not imply that it is invalid.[2] This is justified on the basis of a balancing exercise (which is not detailed in the press release and will be important to scrutinize in the final judgment) between the athlete’s fundamental right to a judge and her freedom to provide services and the constitutionally protected autonomy of associations (e.g. ISU).[3] This is particularly so, because Claudia Pechstein could appeal a CAS award to the Swiss Federal Tribunal (SFT).[4] Thus, she had access to a national judge and did not necessitate recourse to the German courts.[5]

Hidden in this relatively small paragraph, compared to the overall press release, are many controversial statements and assumptions. First, the claim that Claudia Pechstein (and any other international athlete for that matter) freely submits to CAS arbitration is surreal. So unconvincing, that the BGH itself debunks it in the following phrase. What is it then? Free consent or forced consent? You need to choose! In fact, CAS arbitration is always (in appeal cases) forced arbitration. This should be openly acknowledged by the BGH and the SFT. Instead, they are forced into logical convolutions that can only be perceived, in the SFT’s own words, as “illogical”.[6] Second, the balancing exercise conducted by the BGH should be scrutinized. Unfortunately, there is very little information on this balancing in the press release. Yet, one should not accept a restriction on the freedom of an athlete to provide services and on its fundamental right to access national courts, unless a forced CAS arbitration is shown as absolutely necessary to secure the autonomy of the Sports Governing Bodies (SGBs). Moreover, such a weighty restriction on the fundamental rights of an athlete should imply a strict assessment of the quality of the judicial process at the CAS. In light of the BGH’s assessment of the independence of the CAS (see more on this in part II.), one can doubt that it has taken this balancing exercise seriously. Finally, the claim that access to the SFT could compensate for the loss of Claudia Pechstein’s access to German Courts is ludicrous, or in good German realitätsfremd. Any CAS practitioner knows that the SFT favours (to its credit openly) a “benevolent”[7] approach to the CAS, and that it is extremely reluctant to overturn awards on the basis of procedural or substantial ordre public.[8] Winning an appeal against a CAS award in front of the SFT is a bit like Leicester City winning the Premier League, an oddity.

Based on the BGH’s press release, the ruling seems at best vague and unpersuasive and at worse negligent in its assessment of the factual and legal situation. One can well argue that on balance of interests, forced CAS arbitration might be necessary to preserve the existence of international SGBs and their competitions, but this would imply a way stricter assessment of the institutional independence of the CAS, which is entirely lacking in the press release. 

II.             The (in)dependence of the CAS

The core of the press release concerns the independence of the CAS. The BGH considers that the CAS is a true arbitral tribunal in the sense of German civil procedural law and that it is not structurally imbalanced in favour of the SGBs.[9] Therefore, forcing athletes to arbitrate disputes at the CAS does not constitute an abuse of dominant position. 

I contend that the BGH’s assessment of the independence of the CAS is, based on this press release, imprecise and in some regards even erroneous. It relies on four main arguments:

• SGBs and athletes share the same interest in the fight against doping
• SGBs and athletes share the same interest in having a uniform and swift sporting justice
• The CAS Code allows for sufficient safeguards in case an arbitrator is not sufficient independent/impartial
• The athlete can appeal to the SFT to challenge the lack of independence of an arbitrator

In the following sections of this blog, I will aim at critically unpacking and deconstructing these four arguments one by one.

A.    The shared interest of athletes and SGBs in the fight against doping

In a first paragraph, the BGH sets out to rebut the OLG’s argument that the CAS is structurally imbalanced in favour of the SGBs, i.e. due to the selection process of CAS arbitrators included in the CAS list. In the past, and still nowadays, it is the ICAS, a body constituted of 20 members nominated overwhelmingly by the SGBs, which decides who gets to be on the CAS list. Currently, based on their official CVs available on the CAS’ website, 13 out of 20 ICAS members have direct links with SGBs. Hence, the OLG’s reasonable assumption that the selection process of arbitrators could lead to the perception that the CAS was in a way captured by the SGBs and prone to favour their interests.

The BGH’s trick to rebut this finding of the OLG is to merge the interests of the athletes and of the SGBs into a shared objective of fighting against doping.[10] This is, bluntly speaking, ludicrous. It would be like arguing that the independence of the criminal justice is redundant, because both the State and the accused citizen share an interest in public safety and security. This is legal nonsense and is not up to the standards of the BGH. It is easy to discern that beyond an undoubtedly shared concern for the fight against doping, the athlete and the SGB involved in a particular dispute over a failed anti-doping test have radically opposite interests. Consequently, the independence of the CAS is crucial to ensure that the SGBs do not abuse their legitimate regulatory and executive powers in an anti-doping dispute. 

B.    The shared interest in a uniform and swift sporting justice

The BGH, thereafter, argues that the CAS would be necessary to ensure the uniformity and swiftness of sporting justice and that this would be also in the interest of the athletes.[11] I actually share the view of the BGH on this need for a uniform sporting justice embodied by the CAS. Still, the German judges fail to comprehend that this argument can be used only to justify the post-consensual foundations of the CAS, but is toothless to promote laxer standards of independence for the CAS. The need for uniformity and swiftness might call for a single institution having mandatory jurisdiction, but not for this same institution to be captured by the SGBs or to fail to ensure due process guarantees. Here, ironically, the BGH is laying the ground for a strict review: the recognized necessity of forced arbitration calls for an impeccable CAS on the due process side.

C.    The CAS Code safeguards the independence/impartiality of CAS arbitrators

In the following sections of its reasoning, the BGH argues that any remaining imbalance of the CAS in favour of the SGBs could be remedied via the procedural safety mechanisms included in the CAS code.[12] In the full judgment it probably refers to article S.18 CAS Code providing that arbitrators have to sign “an official declaration undertaking to exercise their functions personally with total objectivity, independence and impartiality, and in conformity with the provisions of this Code” and to article R.33 CAS Code stating that “[e]very arbitrator shall be and remain impartial and independent of the parties and shall immediately disclose any circumstances which may affect her/his independence with respect to any of the parties.” Based on article R.34 CAS Code, any challenge of an arbitrator on the basis of the latter provision must be submitted to the ICAS Board composed of six members, five of which are or have been in the past involved in executive positions in SGBs. In these conditions, it should be obvious that challenging the independence of an arbitrator vis-à-vis the SGBs is extremely unattractive for an athlete, even more so when considering that in case of failure there is a risk of alienating the arbitrator in question. This is why the CAS’s independence issue is systemic and cannot be solved without re-designing the selection process and composition of the ICAS.

Furthermore, the BGH also argues that both parties can chose an arbitrator and that both arbitrators will then designate the President of the panel.[13] This is plainly wrong. In appeal cases, concerning almost all the anti-doping cases and which was the procedure followed in the Pechstein case, it is the President of the appeal division that designates the President of the panel.[14] The president of the division is also the one in charge of ensuring “that the arbitrators comply with the requirements of Article R33”. [15]  This person is directly nominated by ICAS and it suffices to remind that the previous holder of this position was (until 2013) Thomas Bach (now IOC President, then IOC Executive Board member), to demonstrate how doubtful its independence from the SGBs was and still is. It is difficult to understand how such a basic mistake has found its way into a BGH press release. Even the official CAS Code Commentary by the CAS Secretary General openly justifies this exclusive prerogative of the President of the appeal division by stating that she “can better evaluate if it is preferable to appoint an experienced arbitrator in order to act as chairman of the Panel or a less experienced CAS arbitrator, who is not widely known to the parties but who would have the necessary background to rule on a particular case”.[16] The dilettante manner in which the BGH has conducted its assessment of the CAS’ independence contrasts strongly with the OLG’s thorough discussion of the problematic role of the ICAS and of the president of the appeal division.[17]  

D.    The SFT’s control of the independence/impartiality of CAS arbitrators

Finally, and this is a point already touched upon in the first part of this blog, the BGH insists that the losing party has the possibility to appeal to the SFT, which can annul the award.[18] The problem is, again, that the SFT is a mere paper tiger. Yes, it intervened (mildly) in the famous Gundel case in 1993, because back then the IOC was directly and openly controlling the CAS, but since then it has adopted a very narrow interpretation of the scope for challenges of the independence of CAS arbitrators.[19] Generally, the SFT considers the CAS as a necessary evil that should be (very) benevolently checked. This is hardly a credible avenue to ensure that its decisions abide by the democratic standards called for on the basis of its mandatory global jurisdictions.[20]

Conclusion: A missed opportunity

In work of arts, I am, and remain, a fond admirer of Magritte’s surrealist take on life. Yet, I doubt that a Court should engage in a similar exercise when drafting its judgments. Its role is to get its facts right (or close to right) and find the fitting interpretation of the law in a particular context. In the present case, I believe the BGH failed on both fronts. In its press release it misrepresented basic facts (that can be checked in two clicks via google) on the functioning and institutional structure of the CAS, often concerning facts that were already available in the OLG’s judgment. This is extremely worrying for such a reputable Court. Additionally, it failed to properly understand its constitutional role vis-à-vis the CAS and the need to ensure that basic due process rights of athletes are respected at the CAS. This needed not entail the death of the CAS, nor the end of its mandatory jurisdiction, nor even that Pechstein should be allowed to have her liability claim heard (a flood of appeals could have been easily avoided). Instead, a reform of the CAS could have been simply achieved by a subtle Solange formula stating roughly that forced CAS arbitration is fine ‘as long as’ the independence of the CAS is safeguarded and the due process rights of athletes warranted. Hopefully, the case will move to the Bundesverfassungsgericht (and it is still pending before the European Court of Human Rights), which knows a thing or two about Solange formulas…

[1] “Die Klägerin hat die Schiedsvereinbarung freiwillig unterzeichnet.”

[2] “Dass sie dabei fremdbestimmt gehandelt hat, da sie andernfalls nicht hätte antreten können, führt nicht zur Unwirksamkeit der Vereinbarung.”

[3] “Denn auch insoweit ergibt die Abwägung der beiderseitigen Interessen am Maßstab des § 19 GWB eine sachliche Rechtfertigung der Verwendung der Schiedsklausel, die nicht gegen gesetzliche Wertentscheidungen verstößt. Dem Justizgewährungsanspruch der Klägerin sowie ihrem Recht auf freie Berufsausübung steht die Verbandsautonomie der Beklagten gegenüber.”

[4] “Schließlich ist der Klägerin im Anschluss an das Schiedsgerichtsverfahren Zugang zu den nach internationalem Recht zuständigen schweizerischen Gerichten möglich.”

[5] “Ein Anspruch gerade auf Zugang zu den deutschen Gerichten besteht danach nicht.”

[6] “Qu'il y ait un certain illogisme, en théorie, à traiter de manière différente la convention d'arbitrage et la renonciation conventionnelle au recours, sous les rapports de la forme et du consentement, est sans doute vrai.” BGE 133 III 235, at 245.

[7] “Exprimée d'une autre façon, cette logique veut que le maintien d'une possibilité de recours constitue un contrepoids à la "bienveillance" avec laquelle il convient d'examiner le caractère consensuel du recours à l'arbitrage en matière sportive.”

[8] See on this difficulty A. Rigozzi, Challenging Awards of the Court of Arbitration for Sport, J Int. Disp. Settlement (2010) 1 (1): 217-265.

[9] “Der CAS ist ein "echtes" Schiedsgericht im Sinne der §§ 1025 ff. ZPO.”

[10] “Denn die Verbände und die Athleten stehen sich nicht als von grundsätzlich gegensätzlichen Interessen geleitete Lager gegenüber. Vielmehr entspricht die weltweite Bekämpfung des Dopings sowohl den Interessen der Verbände als auch denen der Athleten.”

[11]“Die mit einer einheitlichen internationalen Sportsgerichtsbarkeit verbundenen Vorteile, wie etwa einheitliche Maßstäbe und die Schnelligkeit der Entscheidung, gelten nicht nur für die Verbände, sondern auch für die Sportler.”

[12] “Ein dennoch verbleibendes Übergewicht der Verbände wird ausgeglichen durch die Verfahrensordnung des CAS, die eine hinreichende individuelle Unabhängigkeit und Neutralität der Schiedsrichter gewährleistet.”

[13] “Der konkret an dem Verfahren vor dem CAS beteiligte Sportverband - hier die ISU - und der Athlet müssen je einen Schiedsrichter aus der mehr als 200 Personen umfassenden Liste auswählen. Diese Schiedsrichter bestimmen gemeinsam den Obmann des Schiedsgerichts. Ist ein Schiedsrichter befangen, kann er abgelehnt werden.”

[14] Article R54 CAS Code: “If three arbitrators are to be appointed, the President of the Division shall appoint the President of the Panel following nomination of the arbitrator by the Respondent and after having consulted the arbitrators.”

[15] Article R54 CAS Code.

[16] See footnote 2 in M. Reeb & D. Mavromati, The Code of the Court of Arbitration for Sport. Commentary, cases and materials. Kluwer, 2015, p.479.

[17] See generally A. Duval & B. van Rompuy, The Compatibility of Forced CAS Arbitration with EU Competition Law: Pechstein Reloaded. Available at SSRN: http://ssrn.com/abstract=2621983.

[18] Die unterliegende Partei hat die Möglichkeit, bei dem zuständigen schweizerischen Bundesgericht um staatlichen Rechtsschutz nachzusuchen. Das schweizerische Bundesgericht kann den Schiedsspruch des CAS in bestimmtem Umfang überprüfen und gegebenenfalls aufheben.

[19] See L. Beffa, 'Challenge of international arbitration awards in Switzerland for lack of independence and/or impartiality of an arbitrator – Is it time to change the approach?' (2011) 29 ASA Bulletin, Issue 3, pp. 598–606

[20] Here I implicitly refer to the pathbreaking democratic theory for international courts developped in A. Von Bogdandy & I. Venzke, In Whose Name? A Public Law Theory of International Adjudication, Oxford University Press, 2014.

The world of professional cycling and doping have been closely intertwined for many years. Cycling’s International governing Body, Union Cycliste Internationale (UCI), is currently trying to clean up the image of the sport and strengthen its credibility. In order to achieve this goal, in January 2014 the UCI established the Cycling Independent Reform Commission (CIRC) “to conduct a wide ranging independent investigation into the causes of the pattern of doping that developed within cycling and allegations which implicate the UCI and other governing bodies and officials over ineffective investigation of such doping practices.”[1] The final report was submitted to the UCI President on 26 February 2015 and published on the UCI website on 9 March 2015. The report outlines the history of the relationship between cycling and doping throughout the years. Furthermore, it scrutinizes the role of the UCI during the years in which doping usage was at its maximum and addresses the allegations made against the UCI, including allegations of corruption, bad governance, as well as failure to apply or enforce its own anti-doping rules. Finally, the report turns to the state of doping in cycling today, before listing some of the key practical recommendations.[2]

Since the day of publication, articles and commentaries (here and here) on the report have been burgeoning and many of the stakeholders have expressed their views (here and here). However, given the fact that the report is over 200 pages long, commentators could only focus on a limited number of aspects of the report, or only take into account the position of a few stakeholders. In the following two blogs we will try to give a comprehensive overview of the report in a synthetic fashion.

This first blogpost will focus on the relevant findings and recommendations of the report. In continuation, a second blogpost will address the reforms engaged by the UCI and other long and short term consequences the report could have on professional cycling. Will the recommendations lead to a different governing structure within the UCI, or will the report fundamentally change the way the UCI and other sport governing bodies deal with the doping problem? 

Relevant findings

Different forms of doping have been around since the earliest days of cycling (1890’s), but it was the introduction of Erythropoietin, or EPO, in the professional peloton that brought the problem of doping to new levels. Taking it enabled an athlete to gain a significant competitive advantage that could range between 10 and 15%.By using EPO, a rider is able to increase the blood’s oxygen carrying capacity, to stimulate muscle growth and aid muscle recovery.[3] However, the use of EPO thickens the blood, and race dehydration concentrates the blood further, which can cause clotting, stroke or heart failure.[4] In fact, there is widespread suspicion that EPO caused the deaths of up to 20 cyclists between 1987 and 1990. Even though cyclists started using forms of EPO as far back as the 1980’s, it was not until 2001 that a reliable detection test for EPO was developed. This meant that professional cyclists were able to use EPO for over a decade with very little chance of getting caught. The exact percentage of professional cyclist using EPO remains unknown, but it is very likely that this figure was well above 50%. “Doping became the norm in the peloton, not only to increase performance but also just to keep up with the rest of the peloton”.[5]

One of the main findings of the report is the revelation that the UCI’s past policy regarding anti-doping was primarily aimed at protecting the health and safety of the riders and not trying to curtail the use of doping all together from (professional) cycling. This is especially evident from the way it chose to combat EPO. In 1997, UCI introduced the “No Start Rule”. Under the rule, the UCI carried out blood tests before and during competition and any rider with a haematocrit reading higher than 50% (when natural levels are normally between 40 and 45%) was deemed unfit for competition and prevented from competing for 15 days from the date of the test.[6] The UCI stated that the purpose of this rule was to protect riders’ health and safety and to prevent further deaths from EPO. It was not an anti-doping rule, but a health and safety measure. However, the problem with this measure is that it allowed the use of EPO, and therefore doping, to a certain extent. Furthermore, given that the advantage gained from EPO was so significant, the riders were in fact obliged to use EPO simply to keep up, let alone to win.

In order to understand the UCI’s position in this matter, the report explains in full detail the facts that led up to this situation. In doing so, it also addressed the questions whether UCI officials directly contributed to the development of a culture of doping in cycling.[7] It has to be borne in mind that as an umbrella sporting organisation, the UCI was for many years an institution with a minimal structure and no real power. When Hein Verbruggen became president of the UCI in 1991, the UCI had less than 15 employees and very little revenue. The UCI itself does not organise the major cycling event such as the Tour de France. In fact, the organisation that organises the Tour (Amaury Sport Organization) enjoys a dominant position and is economically much more powerful than UCI.[8]

With the inclusion of professional cycling in the Olympic games of 1996, revenue redistributed by the IOC became substantial, while the proceeds derived from TV rights increased dramatically for the UCI. To further boost its revenues, the UCI needed a “big star” to attract broadcasters and sponsors.[9] Lance Armstrong, being outspoken, charismatic and, above all, a cancer survivor, was exactly the type of “big star” it was looking for. The timing of Armstrong’s comeback in professional cycling (1998/99) could not have been better, since the image of cycling and its main event, the Tour de France, were at an all-time low after the “Festina affair” of 1998.[10]

The report shows well the UCI’s conflict of interest during the Tour de France of 1999: On the one hand, it wanted to eliminate doping from the sport, especially after the “Festina affair” a year earlier; on the other hand, it wanted to make the sport more appealing to the public and for that it required the presence and victory of a hero: Lance Armstrong. The practical meaning of this conflict of interest became apparent during that same Tour. Armstrong was tested positive four times for corticosteroids that was forbidden under the UCI Anti-Doping Rules.[11] Armstrong justified the positive tests by submitting a medical certificate that was provided after the tests. According to the UCI’s own rules, the medical certificates should have been handed in prior to the tests. Had the UCI applied its rules, Armstrong would have received a sanction for violating anti-doping rules, which would have resulted in him not being allowed to win the Tour of 1999, the first of his seven Tour victories. [12]  

Apart from UCI decisions concerning Armstrong, it becomes evident from the report that the UCI took a number of controversial decisions regarding doping violations which, in hindsight, should have been dealt with differently. However, to answer the question why the UCI made these decisions, it is necessary to understand how the UCI made these decisions. As mentioned above, it is clear that the conflict of interest regarding the UCI’s objectives was a prime factor in the choices made. However, it was also the UCI’s governing structure that allowed for such decisions, especially the way the UCI dealt with its anti-doping policy.

In 1992, the UCI set up an Anti-Doping Commission (ADC). The ADC was headed originally by a lawyer, Werner Goehner. He was succeeded by the ADC’s first Vice-president, Lon Schattenberg, an occupational therapist, in 2003. It has been reported that Schattenberg de facto ran the ADC from the start. Furthermore, even though the ADC was composed of three members in total, it was Schattenberg who effectively ran the whole Commission. The conflict of interest is further substantiated in the report when it stresses that the focus of Schattenberg’s work was on health concerns rather than on disciplinary aspects of doping. His view was that trying to catch the doped cyclists amounted to a witch hunt.[13] In other words, between 1992 and 2006, most, if not all, of the Anti-Doping Commission’s decisions were taken by one man whose primary aim was to protect the riders’ health rather than catching and sanctioning the doped cyclists.

Similarly, the report emphasised the prime role of the UCI President Hein Verbruggen (1991-2005) as regards the UCI’s governance structure. Due to the passive nature of the large majority of the UCI’s governing bodies, the president had a wide range of executive powers. In the CIRC’s view this led to serious problems of governance and deficiencies in internal control processes. By way of example, Verbruggen, with the agreement of the majority of his colleagues on the Management Committee, chose his successor (Pat McQuaid) and managed to secure his election.[14] Moreover, even though Schattenberg’s ADC was formally considered independent, Hein Verbruggen was not only informed of all relevant anti-doping matters, he also interfered in the decision-making of the anti-doping Commission. As is stated in the KPMG report on UCI Governance and Independence Assessment (2013), “(t)he President has taken many decisions alone or based on external advice during critical times…Critically important matters…are taken solely by the President.”[15] 

The report further notes that Mr. Verbruggen was constantly in conflict with WADA and its leadership. The importance of these conflicts when answering the question how the UCI made its decisions should not be underestimated. The first WADA Code, implemented in 2004, included the standard sanction of two years of ineligibility in case of a first Anti-Doping violation. Nonetheless, the UCI (read: Verbruggen) opposed the standard sanction and lobbied for much lower sanctions. It should be noted that, as the “new kid on the block”, the role and power of WADA in relation to sports federations in general and the UCI in particular was unclear. According to the UCI, WADA’s function was to assist sports federations, but not to interfere with internal matters or criticise their governance or anti-doping policy. Any interference or criticism by WADA in relation to UCI’s anti-doping policy was perceived by the UCI leadership as completely unacceptable and seemed to have been interpreted as a personal attack.[16]  

Conclusion

The goal of this report was to investigate the causes of the pattern of doping that developed within professional cycling over the last decades, especially taking into account the role of the UCI, and to recommend better ways of tackling doping problems in the future.

According to the report, the UCI’s role in the widespread use of doping in cycling was fundamental in several ways. Firstly, during the heydays of EPO the UCI was primarily focused on protecting the health and safety of the riders, rather than trying to eliminate the use EPO in the peloton. Secondly, the UCI’s objective of forming professional cycling into a global money-making sport had an impact on enforcing anti-doping rules. This became especially evident after Lance Armstrong’s comeback. Even though Armstrong took forbidden substances during the Tour de France of 1999, the UCI decided not to sanction him. Armstrong was the “big star” the UCI needed to further increase revenues, and a sanction would have been counterproductive in this regard. A third major element that allowed for doping to flourish was the UCI’s governing structure. The executive dominance of the UCI President Hein Verbruggen caused great deficiencies in the UCI’s internal control process. Moreover, the lack of collaboration with WADA was instrumental in delaying the full implementation of the WADA Code. 

The Report is in interesting plunge in the world of cycling at the turn of the century. It highlights the systematic failure of sports organisation to truly engage in the fight against doping. Indeed, both the fundamental objectives and the basic governance structure of the UCI seem to have run counter any attempt to deal efficiently with the recourse to doping of the cycling stars. This is a potent lesson, for doping seems to be as much a product of the institutional and economical system in place in a particular sport as of the malign intentions of the athletes. 

Having deciphered the main reasons that caused the pattern of doping, the report consequently outlined a set of recommendations. An analysis of these recommendation as well as the reforms the UCI has already undertaken shall be discussed in a second blog.

[1] CIRC Report to the President of the UCI, page 6

[2] Ibid

[3] CIRC Report to the President of the UCI, page 57

[4] Ibid, page 33

[5] Ibid, page 41

[6] Ibid, page 35-36, a haematocrit reading measures the percentage of red blood cells in blood. As EPO stimulates the production of red blood cells, an elevated haematocrit reading above 50% is “a strong indication of EPO use”.

[7] Ibid, page 90

[8] Ibid, page 91

[9] Ibid, page 91-92

[10] The affair concerned a large haul of doping products found in a car of the Festina cycling team just before the start of the Tour de France of 1998. The investigation revealed systematic doping, and suspicion was raised that there may have been a widespread network of doping involving many teams of the Tour de France.

[11] These rules state that “the use of corticosteroids is prohibited, except when used for topical application (auricular, opthmalogical or dermatological) inhalations (asthma and allergic rhinitis) and local or intra-articular injections. Such forms of utilisations can be proved with a medical prescription”.

[12] CIRC Report to the President of the UCI, page 171-173

[13] Ibid, pages 98-100

[14] Ibid, page 97

[15] Ibid, pages 104-105

[16] Ibid, page 108

On 21 January 2015, the Court of arbitration for sport (CAS) rendered its award in the latest avatar of the Mutu case, aka THE sports law case that keeps on giving (this decision might still be appealed to the Swiss Federal tribunal and a complaint by Mutu is still pending in front of the European Court of Human Right). The decision was finally published on the CAS website on Tuesday. Basically, the core question focuses on the interpretation of Article 14. 3 of the FIFA Regulations on the Status and Transfer of Players in its 2001 version. More precisely, whether, in case of a dismissal of a player (Mutu) due to a breach of the contract without just cause by the player, the new club (Juventus and/or Livorno) bears the duty to pay the compensation due by the player to his former club (Chelsea). Despite winning maybe the most high profile case in the history of the CAS, Chelsea has been desperately hunting for its money since the rendering of the award (as far as the US), but it is a daunting task. Thus, the English football club had the idea to turn against Mutu’s first employers after his dismissal in 2005, Juventus and Livorno, with success in front of the FIFA Dispute Resolution Chamber (DRC), but as we will see the CAS decided otherwise[1].

      I.         Facts and Procedure of the Mutu Case

The Mutu saga is probably one of the most well known sagas in the sports law world (with the unavoidable Bosman case and the up and coming Pechstein one). It cumulates the glamour drama of a star’s downfall due to a positive cocaine test and many important legal developments.

The saga started in July 2004 with a private drug test conducted by Chelsea on Mutu that turned out to be positive to cocaine. The club issued a fine and a warning. But, in October 2004, Mutu was again tested positive to cocaine, this time by the English FA. Upon this finding, and Mutu’s admission of having ingested cocaine, Chelsea decided to terminate his contract on 28 October 2004. On 29 January 2005 the player was registered at Livorno, before being transferred two days later to Juventus. Juventus had reached its quota of non-EU players it could recruit from outside Italy and used this strategy to circumvent the Italian rules applicable at that time.

Meanwhile, Mutu had challenged in front of the FA’s Appeals Committee (FAPLAC) the decision of Chelsea to terminate his employment contract. In April 2005, the FAPLAC decided that Mutu had committed a breach of his employment contract without just cause. Mutu appealed this decision to the CAS without success (CAS 2005/A/876). In May 2006, Chelsea launched a complaint before the DRC to obtain compensation against the player on the basis of the contractual breach without just cause. The DRC in its decision from 26 October 2006 (available here) held that it could not pronounce itself on the matter and that Chelsea had to turn to FAPLAC. Chelsea appealed the decision to the CAS, which enjoined the DRC to decide on the matter (CAS 2006/A/1192). Consequently, the DRC decided on 7 May 2008 to award €17, 173 990 in damages to Chelsea. Unsurprisingly, Mutu decided to appeal the decision to the CAS, he was especially contesting the amount of compensation awarded, which on 31 July 2009 endorsed the decision of the DRC (CAS 2008/A/1644). It even held that the damage claims of Chelsea were higher, but decided it could not go ultra petita and award a higher sum to the club. Mutu, which had unsuccessfully challenged the independence and impartiality of one of the arbitrators due to his previous participation in the first Mutu case (CAS 2005/A/876), went on to contest the validity of the award in front of the Swiss Federal Tribunal (SFT) mainly on this basis. In its decision (4A_458/2009), the SFT rejected Mutu’s claims regarding the lack of independence of the arbitrator, a decision that has attracted widespread criticisms in the literature.[2] Moreover, it also held that the amount of compensation awarded was not a restriction to free movement in the sense of the Bosman ruling and could not amount to an infringement of Mutu’s personality rights. Thereafter, Mutu decided to continue his fight in yet another forum: the European Court of Human Rights (40575/10).

Chelsea had the final award giving it the right to damages, but still needed to get hold on the money. To do so, it even asked (and obtained) for the recognition and the enforcement of the award in the US (see here), where Mutu was expected to have some property. Nevertheless, Mutu went on to play for smaller and smaller teams, thus earning less and less, and Chelsea’s hope of getting paid in full faded away. However, on 15 July 2010, five years after Mutu’s move to Italy’s Serie A in the first place, Chelsea decided to submit a petition to the FIFA DRC against Juventus and Livorno, asking the DRC to find them jointly liable for the awarded compensation. The claim was based on Article 14.3. of the RSTP 2001, stating that: "If a player is registered for a new club and has not paid a sum of compensation within the one month time limit referred to above, the new club shall be deemed jointly responsible for payment of the amount of compensation." The DRC, in an unpublished decision dated 25 April 2013 (see here and here), followed the interpretation of Article 14.3. RSTP suggested by Chelsea and found that “under the clear wording of Article 14.3, the Player's New Club was automatically jointly responsible for the payment of the Awarded Compensation due by the Player, should the latter fail to fulfil his obligations within a month of notification of the relevant decision”.[3] This provision would make “no distinction between the termination of the contract by a player without just cause and the termination of a contract by a club with just cause”.[4] It also held that "the registrations of the player with both [Appellants] were so closely connected that, given the exceptional circumstances of this specific matter, both Juventus and Livorno should be considered the player's new club in the sense of art. 14 of the Application Regulations”.[5]

Both Juventus and Livorno decided to appeal this decision to the CAS, which in its award decided to reject the DRC’s reasoning.

    II.         The Meaning of Article 14.3 FIFA RSTP

The whole case focuses on the interpretation of the wording of Article 14.3 of the RSTP 2001. Does it mean that every club, whatever the circumstances, must pay compensation when it hires a player that bears the responsibility of the breach of his contract? Or, does it restrict this duty to the cases where the breach can be reasonably imputed to the will of the player to leave his former club?

A. Contractual or statutory interpretation?

In order to determine the interpretative tools to be used to identify the meaning of article 14.3 RSTP, the Panel must first clarify the nature of Article 14.3 under Swiss law.[6] Basically, is the provision of a contractual or quasi-statutory nature? The Panel “does not consider that there is a contractual relationship between the Appellants and Chelsea”.[7] Indeed, “[i]f there is no contractual relationship between an indirect member (i.e. any of the Parties) and a sport federation (i.e. FIFA), the conclusion should be the same as regards the relationship between two indirect members of the same federation”.[8] Furthermore, the “[a]cceptance of general rules (such as FIFA Regulations) does not necessarily entail subjection to specific obligations when their scope must be determinable on the basis of minimum criteria”.[9] Thus, the question raised implies only the interpretation of the bylaw of a Swiss legal entity, FIFA.

The Panel highlights four methods of interpretation under Swiss law:

-  the literal interpretation ("interprétation littérale");

-  the systematic interpretation ("interprétation systématique");

-  the principle of purposive interpretation ("interprétation téléologique");

-  the principle of so-called "compliant interpretation" ("interprétation conforme").[10]

The “starting point” [11] is always the wording of the text. The Swiss Federal Tribunal recognizes that “[t]here is no reason to depart from the plain text, unless there are objective reasons to think that it does not reflect the core meaning of the provision under review”.[12] Moreover, when asked to interpret a law, the SFT “adopts a pragmatic approach and follows a plurality of methods, without assigning any priority to the various means of interpretation”.[13] However, the question is whether those interpretative methods should also apply to the (private) bylaws of a private association. The Panel notes that “[a]s regards the statutes of larger entities, it may be more appropriate to have recourse to the method of interpretation applicable to the law, whereas in the presence of smaller enterprises, the statutes may more legitimately be interpreted by reference to good faith”.[14] It finds that “FIFA's regulations have effects which are felt worldwide, and should therefore be subject to the more objective interpretation principles” applicable to Swiss laws.[15]

In short, the Panel is of the opinion that FIFA regulations, bylaws of an association under Swiss law, are to be interpreted analogously to national laws.

B. EU law as THE decisive contextual element to interpret the RSTP

The Panel first tries to interpret Article 14.3 on the basis of its wording. However, it is of the opinion that the wording is ambiguous and therefore “it is necessary to look beyond the wording of this provision”[16] and adopts what it calls a “contextual approach”.

In short, “the context surrounding the implementation of the RSTP 2001 is of crucial importance in interpreting Article 14.3”.[17] In the view of the Panel (and the appellants), this context is constituted by the application of EU law to sport and especially the Bosman case of the Court of Justice of the EU. Indeed, it is “[a]s part of the reform of the FIFA and UEFA rules following the Bosman decision, [that] FIFA adopted the RSTP 2001”.[18] Thus, the requirements set by the CJEU’s jurisprudence in sports matters are decisive to define the reach of the provisions included in the RSTP. Moreover, the rejection decision of the Commission regarding the complaint submitted against FIFA’s transfer regulations is also important.[19] Specifically, the Panel deduces from the Commission’s decision that it recognizes the need to sanction unilateral termination of contracts.[20]

In the present case, it is precisely the “contractual stability [that] is at the centre of the debate”.[21] In a nutshell, does the paramount objective of contractual stability justify that Juventus and Livorno be considered jointly liable for the breach of contract of Mutu leading to the termination by Chelsea of his contract?

In this regard, Chelsea considers that Article 14.3 “is designed to protect contractual stability by means of a deterrent, namely by ensuring that the parties who benefit from the player's breach – the player himself and his New Club – are not allowed to enjoy that benefit without paying compensation to the player's former club”.[22] While, Juventus and Livorno consider that “Article 14.3 – and FIFA regulations in general – are not meant to protect a club's bad investment”.[23] Which one of this two interpretations is EU law supporting? That is the question.

For the Panel “the Player was the author of his misfortune, but the Club was not required to terminate his employment if they still valued his services and preferred to hold him to his contract”. Indeed, “[t]he Club was entitled, not obliged, to dismiss him” and it “makes all the difference in terms of assessing the position of his subsequent employer(s) under the FIFA regulations, read in light of their object and purpose”.[24] As “Chelsea put an end to the Player's Employment Contract, no issue of contract stability, whose purpose was to safeguard the functioning and regularity of sporting competition, was at stake”.[25] Thus, “it strains logic for the club now to contend that the Appellants somehow enriched themselves by acquiring an asset (the player) which it chose to discard”.[26] Moreover, “the Panel finds it hard to understand how, in the name of contract stability, Chelsea's claim of € 17,173,990 against the Player is to be borne jointly and severally by the New Club, which has never expressed a specific agreement in this regard, had nothing to do with the Player's contractual breach, and was not even called to participate in the proceedings, which established the Awarded Compensation”.[27] Additionally, it seems “incongruous for Chelsea to try to seek an advantage from the fact that the New Club benefits from the Player’s services, whereas Chelsea was no longer interested in his service”.[28] Hence, “Chelsea's conduct appears to have had no other purpose than to increase its chances for greater financial compensation” and the Panel “does not see the connection between the damage being claimed and the interest of protecting legitimate contractual expectations”.[29] In other words, the interpretation of Article 14.3 RSTP supported by Chelsea does not fit the fundamental objective of this provision, as highlighted by its legislative context (mainly the Lethonen case of the CJEU and the Commission’s rejection decision in the competition law complaint against the FIFA transfer system) and cannot be followed.

Interestingly, the Panel also recognized that “[t]here must be a balance between the players’ fundamental right to free movement and the principle of stability of contracts, as supported by the legitimate objective of safeguarding the integrity of the sport and the stability of championships”.[30] In the present case, “[i]f the New Club had to pay compensation even if it is established that it bears no responsibility whatsoever in the breach of the Employment Contract, the player would be hindered from finding a new employer”.[31] Indeed, “it is not difficult to perceive that no New Club would be prepared to pay a multi-million compensation (or transfer fee), in particular for a player who was fired for gross misconduct, was banned for several months, and suffered drug problems”.[32] In short, “Chelsea's interpretation of Article 14.3 would bring the matter back into pre-Bosman times, when transfer fees obstructed the players' freedom of movement”.[33] This is unacceptable for the Panel. Had Chelsea’s interpretation been tolerated “the balance sought by the 2001 RSTP between the players' rights and an efficient transfer system, which responds to the specific needs of football and preserves the regularity and proper functioning of sporting competition would be upset”.[34] Consequently, this interpretation is deemed “incompatible with the fundamental principle of freedom to exercise a professional activity and is disproportionate to the protection of the old club's legitimate interests”.[35] Thus, the Panel concludes “that Article 14.3 does not apply in cases where it was the employer's decision to dismiss with immediate effect a player who, in turn, had no intention to leave the club in order to sign with another club and where the New Club has not committed any fault and/or was not involved in the termination of the employment relationship between the old club and the Player”.[36]

Conclusion

This award is of great interest, not so much for its solution - it is difficult to understand how the FIFA DRC could construct Article 14.3 RSTP as imposing a joint liability on Juventus and Livorno - as for the method used to reach it. The CAS had already in the past based its interpretation of the RSTP on its legislative history and especially on it being the result of a negotiation with the EU Commission in the aftermath of the Bosman ruling.[37] It is the first time, however, that it does so in such length and depth. This contextual reading of Article 14.3 tipped decisively the balance in favor of the appellants. Furthermore, it is a timely reminder for other CAS Panels that FIFA’s RSTP must be interpreted in conformity with EU law and especially the case law of the CJEU on the free movement of workers. If not, CAS awards will face problems at the enforcement stage, as highlighted by the recent SV Wilhelmshaven ruling of the OLG Bremen (see our comment here on the EU law dimension)[38]. This implies that the restrictions it imposes on the free movement of players must be justified by a legitimate objective recognized by the CJEU and be proportionate to attain this objective. In the present case, the interpretation of 14.3 promoted by the DRC runs counter to this requirement as it is not truly aimed at an acceptable legitimate objective and certainly not a proportionate mean to attain contractual stability. Nonetheless, this reasoning could also put into question previous interpretations of the FIFA RSTP. This is especially true for the case-law on the implementation of Article 17 RSTP. The Panel, conscious of the potential implication of the analysis used, is adamant that this case-law is compatible with an EU law conform interpretation. Yet, EU law scholars strongly oppose this view and it can be reasonably argued that the way damages are calculated in case of a breach of a contract under Article 17 is not compatible with the letter and spirit of EU law as applied to the transfer system in Bosman and after[39].

This case will set a resounding precedent for future CAS awards. Lawyers dealing with disputes involving the FIFA RSTP in front of the FIFA DRC and the CAS should take note of this development and introduce wider references to EU law in their briefs.

[1] For this article I have much profited from the outstanding research assistance of Thalia Diathesopoulou.

[2]G. Von Segesser, ‘Equality of Information and Impartiality of Arbitrators’, in P. Wautelet, T. Kruger, G. Coppens (eds), The Practice of Arbitration: Essays in Honour of Hans van Houtte

Hart, 2012, pp.45-51 and L. Beffa, ‘Challenge of International Arbitration Awards in Switzerland for Lack of Independence and/or Impartiality of an Arbitrator – Is it Time to Change the Approach?’ (2011) ASA Bulletin 598 et seq.

[3] CAS 2013/A/3365 & 3366, para 39.

[4] Ibid.

[5] Ibid

[6]Ibid, para. 121-136

[7] Ibid, para. 131

[8] Ibid, para. 131

[9] Ibid, para. 131

[10] Ibid, para.137

[11] Ibid, para.138

[12] Ibid, para.139

[13]Ibid,  para.139

[14]Ibid, para.139

[15]Ibid, para.140

[16]Ibid, para.148

[17]Ibid, para.149

[18]Ibid, para.151

[19]Ibid, para.156

[20]Ibid, para.157

[21]Ibid, para.158

[22]Ibid, para.159

[23]Ibid, para.160

[24]Ibid, para. 161

[25]Ibid, para. 163

[26]Ibid, para. 163

[27]Ibid, para. 165

[28]Ibid, para. 166

[29]Ibid, para. 168

[30]Ibid, para. 169

[31]Ibid, para. 172

[32] Ibid

[33] Ibid, para.174

[34]Ibid, para.174

[35]Ibid, para.174

[36]Ibid,  para.177

[37] ‘It must be remembered that the FIFA Regulations have been issued to regulate the legal and economic aspects of the transfer of players in accordance with the principle of free movement of workers as established by the EC treaty and substantiated by the European Court of Justice in its ruling of 15 December 1995 (case C-415/93), thereby taking the specific needs of professional football into account. In this context, any provisions in the FIFA regulations affecting the player’s freedom of movement should be interpreted narrowly.’ CAS 2004/A/691 FC Barcelona SAD v. Manchester United FC, para. 38; ‘However, the principle behind Art. 5 para. 5 of the Application Regulations is clear: the free movement of workers within the EU/EEA must not be restricted by the imposition of a requirement for the payment of sums by way of compensation for training and education in respect of a player to whom the training club does not offer a contract. In such a case, the failure to offer a contract is an important factor in the assessment of compensation. The compensation payable should not be of such an amount as would impede the player’s ability to move to a new club.’ CAS 2006/A/1125 Hertha BSC Berlin v. Stade Lavallois Mayenne FC, award of 1 December 2006, para. 25; ‘Finally, because of the potentially high amounts of compensation involved, giving clubs a regulatory right to the market value of players and allowing lost profits to be claimed in such manner would in effect bring the system partially back to the pre-Bosman days when players’ freedom of movement was unduly hindered by transfer fees and their careers and well-being could be seriously affected by them becoming pawns in the hands of their clubs and a vector through which clubs could reap considerable benefits without sharing the profit or taking corresponding risks. In view of the text and the history of article 17 par. 1 of the FIFA Status Regulations, allowing any form of compensation that could have such an effect would clearly be anachronistic and legally unsound.’ CAS 2007/A/1298 Wigan Athletic FC v/ Heart of Midlothian & CAS 2007/A/1299 Heart of Midlothian v/ Webster & Wigan Athletic FC & CAS 2007/A/1300 Webster v/ Heart of Midlothian, para. 81.

[38] A. Duval, ‘The Court of Arbitration for Sport  and EU law: Chronicle of an Encounter’, Maastricht Journal of European and Comparative Law, forthcoming.

[39] See, R. Parrish, ‘Article 17 of the FIFA Regulations on the Status and Transfer of Players: Compatibility with EU Law ‘Maastricht Journal of European and Comparative Law, forthcoming. See also, Pearson, G. (2015), Sporting Justifications under EU Free Movement and Competition Law: The Case of the Football ‘Transfer System’. European Law Journal, 21: 220–238.