rug use in sport is not new. Athletes have used
performance-enhancing substances since ancient times. The last half of the
19th century saw the beginnings of modern medicine and, not
coincidentally, a significant growth in the use of drugs to improve
athletic performance.
At the time, use of stimulants among athletes was commonplace, and
moreover, there was no attempt to conceal drug use, with the possible
exception of some trainers who guarded the proprietary interest of their
own special doping recipes. Swimmers, distance runners, sprinters and
cyclists used a wide assortment of drugs, including sugar cubes dipped in
ether; mixtures of brandy and cocaine; caffeine; cordials containing
alcohol; and even nitroglycerine and strychnine.
Not until after World War I was there any widespread attempt to
admonish doping in sports, much less designate it as cheating. By 1933,
the word doping had become a normal part of the English language. Although
physicians and others continued to speak out against doping, the
International Olympic Committee did not take any action until 1967.
During the 1967 Tour de France, the British cyclist Tom Simpson
collapsed and died. His autopsy showed high levels of methamphetamine, and
a vial of the drug was found in his pocket at the time of his death. The
impact of his death was extensive, in part because it was the first doping
death to be televised.
His death substantially added to the mounting pressure on the I.O.C.
and member federations to establish doping-control programs, which they
did at the end of 1967. A year later, another cyclist, Yves Mottin, died
of excessive amphetamine use two days after winning a race. Concerns over
a level playing field aside, athletes dying on television was bad for
business, and drug testing was held out to the unsuspecting public and
journalists as the cure-all.
Nearly 40 years later, drug testing is still the major strategy in the
fight against doping. But let's state the obvious: If drug testing worked,
we would not be reading about doping scandals on a weekly basis. The major
problem with drug testing is not that it marks innocent people as being
guilty (a false positive) but rather that it is unable to catch cheaters
(a false negative).
In 2003, the United States Anti-Doping Agency conducted 6,890 drug
tests. Only six (0.09 percent) were positive. These results do not measure
the use of performance-enhancing strategies for which no tests are
currently available. These include the use of drugs and other substances
like human growth hormone, insulin, insulin-like growth factor, sodium
bicarbonate and creatine, as well as techniques like blood doping.
Complicating this situation are designer drugs like THG, which we have
heard so much about. But the current use of anabolic steroids and other
synthetic hormones and blood substitutes may soon become passé; athletes
may soon be able to inject genes to enhance performance.
The bottom line today is: Unless you are unlucky, careless or have an
I.Q. somewhere at or below room temperature, you are probably not going to
be caught by a drug test.
This raises the question, Is the apparent ineptness of our drug testing
purposeful? Over the past four decades, elite-level sports have grown into
a multibillion-dollar global entertainment industry. Doping scandals
arguably threaten the marketing of sports because advertising strategists
tend to stress the virtuous aspects by portraying the purity of
competition, the notion of fair play, and that victory is the result of
hard work.
On the other hand, it can be argued that doping, if done
surreptitiously, can greatly benefit the sports business by creating for
the fans bigger-than-life athletes capable of bigger-than-life feats.
It is our society that emphasizes and rewards speed, strength, size,
aggressiveness and, above all, winning. Thus, the behavior of athletes and
sports officials in the matter of doping is congruent with their
customers' desires. This notion is supported by the number of sports
federations that for decades have covered up the doping problem,
conveniently looked the other way or instituted drug-testing programs that
were doomed to fail (like that of Major League Baseball). When the Dubin
Commission — formed in Canada after the sprinter Ben Johnson tested
positive for steroids in 1988 — investigated the extent of doping in
Olympic sports, it referred to a "conspiracy of silence" and a "pact of
ignorance" among those in sports organizations when it came to discussing
drug use.
Even with gaping loopholes in drug testing, during the past 15 years we
have continued to be bombarded with a steady stream of major doping
scandals: Ben Johnson, the East Germans, the Communist Chinese, Michelle
Smith, the Tour de France, the revelations of anabolic steroid and
amphetamine use in baseball, and now Balco. This latest scandal stands
apart in several ways. First, star athletes from multiple sports (track
and field, the National Football League and Major League Baseball) appear
to be involved. Second, and far more important, the president voiced
concern in his State of the Union address about the impact that doping
among elite athletes has on our children.
As with the many major scandals of the past 10 years, drug testing had
little or nothing to do with bringing the Balco case to the public's
attention.
It was a former East German athlete and her husband who were courageous
enough to remove Stasi files from the notorious Leipzig laboratory that
documented the heinous doping activities that had taken place. It was the
French border police who intercepted the drug-packed car of a team trainer
and helped expose the culture of doping so pervasive in pro cycling. It
was Australian customs agents who caught Chinese athletes trying to
smuggle human growth hormone. It was a disgruntled coach who mailed a
syringe containing THG to the United States Anti-Doping Agency lab and the
subsequent actions of the Drug Enforcement Administration, the F.B.I. and
the Internal Revenue Service that led to the startling revelations of
Balco.
The litany of scandals appears to have had a strong effect on the
public and even on the athletes, some of whom have spoken out. Indeed, if
sports fans were asked if they were against doping, many would say yes.
But a far more relevant question is whether they were upset enough to turn
off the television and not watch sports. Judging by the continuing
profitability and popularity of both amateur and professional sports, most
would probably answer no.
If we do not have the willpower to turn off our television sets in
protest of doping, will we have the stomach to tolerate federal arrests,
prosecutions and convictions of our sports icons?
Dr. Charles Yesalis, professor of health and human development at
Penn State University, and Dr. Michael Bahrke are authors of
"Performance-Enhancing Substances in Sport and Exercise" (Human Kinetics,
2002).