The culture of doping is nauseating. Young athletes enter pro cycling with dreams, submit themselves to its logic of a “level playing field” and come out of it as liars. That can’t feel good.
It has been a trying week for Canadian cycling. I feel sad for Ryder Hesjedal’s family, especially his parents. His confession of having doped in 2003 has elicited both sympathy and anger from the community and the public.
As an elite cyclist myself, my predominant response was disappointment. I truly believed in Slipstream Sports, the company that owns Hesjedal’s team.
Slipstream was the new face of cycling, the vanguard of a culture of transparency with a firm anti-doping policy that has athletes regularly tested. Since 2008, the team was a bright spot in a sport that had lost all credibility.
Ryder was the face of the new mentality. After his 2012 Giro d’Italia triumph, we had our first grand-tour winner. He was ours, he was clean in an otherwise ugly sport. It was euphoric.
Like anyone, I had my suspicions, especially since Hesjedal had previously raced for Rabobank, U.S. Postal and Phonak, all teams associated with doping. Floyd Landis, who was stripped of his 2006 Tour win after being caught for steroid use, was Hesjedal’s Phonak teammate, and both of them had ridden with Lance Armstrong on USPS.
Still, Slipstream had a more healthy approach to the systematic problem of doping: In being transparent, they accepted ex-dopers into their program, giving them a second chance. David Millar, ex-doper turned anti-doping crusader, was one of their riders.
I preferred that position to 2012-2013 Tour-winning Team Sky’s zero-tolerance policy toward riders with even a hint of a doping past, which seemed either/or and puritanical. To me, Slipstream seemed like the good guys, not prepared to win at all costs.
By not coming out with the truth earlier, that Ryder had doped in 2003, and only doing so because they were forced to, Slipstream failed to live up to that transparency policy. They say they stand by Ryder, but something tells me they advised him not to say anything. And this makes sense, because Slipstream appears more concerned with “media relations” and damage control in their media interactions.
Really, it all comes down to one thing: money and the sporting dreams that work within its logic. If you look at the history of the Tour de France and the Giro d’Italia, these grand tours are founded on selling, as they were events owned by newspapers trying to get more readers. This has morphed into something much bigger, and now involves a globalized network of sponsors, media and all of the other entities that benefit from the spectacle of sports.
It’s estimated that pro cycling is worth about $2.1 billion in TV revenue alone, and World Tour teams are worth an average of $88.4 million in media exposure. Pro cycling exists because of the media industry, and not the other way around.
Sponsors used to turn a blind eye to doping because the public wasn’t weary yet. Now teams live on a tightrope and avoid any sort of scandal. The stakes are too high.
But there is another side to the story. Forget about the adoring fans and the wealth that they generate. The real moral difficulty are fellow competitors, the ones who didn’t cheat. Ryder had the decency to apologize to them this week, which is rare. Still, it’s hollow because it was forced.
Canadian pro Will Routley has said that dopers have effectively stolen from non-dopers. We’re supposed to move on, but that’s not possible. Some have suggested that a “truth and reconciliation” process take place, but that can’t just be in order to forgive and forget. It can’t be so that we can get on with business as usual.
Yes, it’s an institutional problem. Changes have to happen at all levels, locally and in sports governance. Having its share of complicity in the doping problem, the International Cycling Union is rebuilding its constitution. But the changes should be profound — in our mindset. We are teaching young athletes that they have to win at all costs, as soon as possible, and that their identity is tied to that.
As top Canadian cyclist Geoff Kabush recently tweeted, “I just love riding my bike and that always made decisions easy.”
Many are hoping that Ryder Hesjedal will contribute to the anti-doping movement by talking with youth.
Emile de Rosnay is an assistant professor of French literature and culture at the University of Victoria. He taught a course on the Tour de France this summer.
