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

Caster Semenya at the SFT – in 10 points - By Jack Anderson

Editor's note: Jack Anderson is Professor and Director of Sports Law Studies at the University of Melbourne

 

1.     Caster Semenya appealed to the Swiss Federal Court (SFT) arguing that World Athletics’ regulations violated human rights principles relating to gender discrimination and human dignity. The Swiss Federal Tribunal (as at CAS) held that World Athletics’ regulations may prima facie breach such human rights principles but were “necessary, reasonable and proportionate” to maintain fairness in women's athletics;


2.     Although in part addressed at the SFT, expect further legal argument on this in the domestic courts of South Africa or at the ECtHR, and in the following ways:

  • Necessity - is the athletic advantage that Caster Semenya has of such a scientifically-measurable extent that it is necessary for World Athletics to intervene in such an invasive manner? In a broader ethical sense, is the incidence of what the World Athletics’ regulations call “difference of sex development” of such prevalence in the general population, and specifically in middle-distance athletics, that, by way of the principle of “sporting beneficence”, intervention is justified. Or, in contrast, is the incidence of DSD not at a level which justifies a departure from the ethical principle of primum non nocere – first, do no harm?
  • Reasonableness - if World Athletics’ regulations are necessary, is the manner of implementation reasonable and in line with the principle of human and bodily integrity? In answering such a question, the focus must be on the fact that in order to continue to compete in her favourite events (such as the 800 metres) Caster Semenya will have to lower her testosterone level through medication;
  • Proportionate - if World Athletics’ regulations are necessary and reasonable is the manner of implementation proportionate? In answering such a question, the focus must be on whether the regulations disproportionately discriminate against a certain, limited group of athletes in a certain, limited number of events and in a certain, limited manner.More...


Chronicle of a Defeat Foretold: Dissecting the Swiss Federal Tribunal’s Semenya Decision - By Marjolaine Viret

Editor's note: Marjolaine is a researcher and attorney admitted to the Geneva bar (Switzerland) who specialises in sports and life sciences.

 

On 25 August 2020, the Swiss Supreme Court (Swiss Federal Tribunal, SFT) rendered one of its most eagerly awaited decisions of 2020, in the matter of Caster Semenya versus World Athletics (formerly and as referenced in the decision: IAAF) following an award of the Court of Arbitration for Sport (CAS). In short, the issue at stake before the CAS was the validity of the World Athletics eligibility rules for Athletes with Differences of Sex Development (DSD Regulation). After the CAS upheld their validity in an award of 30 April 2019, Caster Semenya and the South African Athletics Federation (jointly: the appellants) filed an application to set aside the award before the Swiss Supreme Court.[1] The SFT decision, which rejects the application, was made public along with a press release on 8 September 2020.

There is no doubt that we can expect contrasted reactions to the decision. Whatever one’s opinion, however, the official press release in English does not do justice to the 28-page long decision in French and the judges’ reasoning. The goal of this short article is therefore primarily to highlight some key extracts of the SFT decision and some features of the case that will be relevant in its further assessment by scholars and the media.[2]

It is apparent from the decision that the SFT was very aware that its decision was going to be scrutinised by an international audience, part of whom may not be familiar with the mechanics of the legal regime applicable to setting aside an international arbitration award in Switzerland.

Thus, the decision includes long introductory statements regarding the status of the Court of Arbitration for Sport, and the role of the Swiss Federal Tribunal in reviewing award issued by panels in international arbitration proceedings. The SFT also referred extensively throughout its decision to jurisprudence of the European Court of Human Rights (ECtHR), rendered in cases related to international sport and the CAS. More...

New Transnational Sports Law Articles Released on SSRN - Antoine Duval

I have just released on SSRN four of my most recent articles on Lex Sportiva/Transnational Sports Law. The articles are available open access in their final draft forms, the final published version might differ slightly depending on the feedback of the editors. If you wish to cite those articles I (obviously) recommend using the published version.

I hope they will trigger your attention and I look forward to any feedback you may have!

Antoine


Abstract: This chapter focuses on the emergence of a transnational sports law, also known as lex sportiva, ruling international sports. In the transnational law literature, the lex sportiva is often referred to as a key example or case study, but rarely studied in practice. Yet, it constitutes an important playground for transnational legal research and practice, and this chapter aims to show why. The focus of the chapter will first be on the rules of the lex sportiva. Law, even in its transnational form, is still very much connected to written rules against which a specific behaviour or action is measured as legal or illegal. As will be shown, this is also true of the lex sportiva, which is structured around an ensemble of rules produced through a variety of law-making procedures located within different institutions. The second section of this chapter will aim to look beyond the lex sportiva in books to narrate the lex sportiva in action. It asks, what are the institutional mechanisms used to concretize the lex sportiva in a particular context? The aim will be to go beyond the rules in order to identify the processes and institutions making the lex sportiva in its daily practice. Finally, the enmeshment of the lex sportiva with state-based laws and institutions is highlighted. While the lex sportiva is often presented as an autonomous transnational legal construct detached from territorialized legal and political contexts, it is shown that in practice it operates in intimate connection with them. Hence, its transnational operation is much less characterized by full autonomy than assemblage.


Abstract: This chapter aims to show that the work of the Court of Arbitration for Sport (‘CAS’), which is often identified as the institutional centre of the lex sportiva, can be understood as that of a seamstress weaving a plurality of legal inputs into authoritative awards. In other words, the CAS panels are assembling legal material to produce (almost) final decisions that, alongside the administrative practices of sports governing bodies (‘SGBs’), govern international sports. It is argued that, instead of purity and autonomy, the CAS’ judicial practice is best characterised by assemblage and hybridity. This argument will be supported by an empirical study of the use of different legal materials, in particular pertaining to Swiss law, EU law and the European Convention on Human Rights (‘ECHR’), within the case law of the CAS. The chapter is a first attempt at looking at the hermeneutic practice of the CAS from the perspective of a transnational legal pluralism that goes beyond the identification of a plurality of autonomous orders to turn its sights towards the enmeshment and entanglement characterising contemporary legal practice.


Abstract: Has the time come for the Court of Arbitration for Sport to go public? This article argues that after the Pechstein decision of the European Court of Human Rights, CAS appeal arbitration must be understood as forced arbitration and therefore must fully comply with the due process guarantees enshrined in Article 6(1) ECHR. In particular, this entails a strong duty of transparency with regard to the hearings at the CAS and the publication of its awards. This duty is of particular importance since the rationale for supporting the validity of CAS arbitration, if not grounded in the consent of the parties, must be traced back to the public interest in providing for the equality before the (sports) law of international athletes. Thus, the legitimacy and existence of the CAS is linked to its public function, which ought to be matched with the procedural strings usually attached to judicial institutions. In short, if it is to avoid lengthy and costly challenges to its awards, going public is an urgent necessity for the CAS.


Abstract: In 1998 the FIFA welcomed the Palestinian Football Association as part of its members - allegedly, as an attempt by then FIFA President, the Brazilian João Havelange, to showcase football as an instrument of peace between Israeli and Palestinians. Ironically, almost 20 years after Palestine’s anointment into the FIFA family, instead of peace it is the conflict between Israeli and Palestinians that moved to FIFA. In recent years the Palestinian Football Association (PFA) and the Israeli Football Association (IFA) have been at loggerheads inside FIFA over the fate - I will refer to it as the transnational legality – of five (and then six) football clubs affiliated to the IFA which are physically located in the Israeli settlements in the Occupied Palestinian Territories (OPT). This chapter chronicles the legal intricacies of this conflict, which will serve as a backdrop to discuss arguments raised regarding the legality of business activities of corporations connected to the Israeli settlements. Indeed, as will be shown in the first part of this chapter, the discussion on the legality of economic activities in the OPT has recently taken a business and human rights turn involving systematic targeting of corporations by activists. Interestingly, we will see that this business and human rights turn also played a role in the conflict between the IFA and the PFA. This case study is therefore an opportunity to examine how the strategy of naming and shaming private corporations, and in our case not-for-profit associations, for their direct or indirect business involvement in the settlements has fared. It is also an occasion to critically assess the strength of the human rights ‘punch’ added to the lex sportiva, by the UNGPs.

International and European Sports Law – Monthly Report – June - August 2020 by Thomas Terraz

Editor's note: This report compiles the most relevant legal news, events and materials on International and European Sports Law based on the daily coverage provided on our twitter feed @Sportslaw_asser. 

 

 

The Headlines

CAS Decision on Manchester City FC Case

After the UEFA’s Adjudicatory Chamber of the Club Financial Control’s (CFCB) decision earlier this year to ban Manchester City FC for two seasons, observers waited impatiently to see the outcome of this high profile dispute. The CFCB’s decision had found that Manchester City FC overstated sponsorship revenues and in its break-even information given to UEFA. While some feared this showdown could lead to the demise of UEFA’s Financial Fair Play (FFP) regulations, the now publicized CAS panel’s decision is more nuanced. The panel’s decision turned on (see analysis here and here) (a) whether the ‘Leaked Emails’ were authentic and could be admissible evidence, (b) whether the ‘CFCB breached its obligations of due process’, (c) whether the conclusions of the 2014 Settlement Agreement prevents the CFCB from charging Manchester City FC, (d) whether the charges are time-barred, (e) the applicable standard of proof, (f) whether Manchester City FC masked equity funding as sponsorship contributions, and (g) whether Manchester City FC failed to cooperate with CFCB. In the end, among other findings, the Panel held that some of the alleged breaches were time-barred but maintained that Manchester City FC had failed to cooperate with CFCB’s investigation. In light of this, the Panel significantly reduced the sanction placed on Manchester City FC by removing the two-season suspension and reducing the sanction from 30 million euros to 10 million euros.

 

Qatar Labour Law Reforms Effectively Abolishes the Kafala System

Just a few days after Human Rights Watch released a lengthy report on abusive practices suffered by migrant workers in Qatar, Qatar adopted a series of laws that effectively gets rid of the Kafala system by no longer requiring migrant workers to obtain a ‘No Objection Certificate’ from their employer in order to start another job. The International Labour Organization declared that this development along with the elimination of the ‘exit permit requirements’ from earlier this year means that the kafala system has been effectively abolished. In addition to these changes, Qatar has also adopted a minimum wage that covers all workers and requires that employers who do not provide food or housing at least give a minimum allowance for both of these living costs. Lastly, the new laws better define the procedure for the termination of employment contracts.

In reaction to these changes, Amnesty International welcomed the reforms and called for them to be ‘swiftly and properly implemented’. Indeed, while these amendments to Qatar’s labour laws are a step in the right direction, Amnesty International also cautions that the minimum wage may still be too low, and in order to be effective, these new laws will have to be followed with ‘strong inspection and complaint mechanisms’.

 

CAS Decision Concerning Keramuddin Karim Abuse Case

In June of last year, Keramuddin Karim, former president of Afghanistan’s soccer federation, was banned by FIFA for life (see the decision of the adjudicatory Chamber of the FIFA Ethics Committee) after reports of sexual and physical abuse that emerged in late 2018. Following a lengthy and tumultuous investigation in Afghanistan, Afghan officials came forward with an arrest warrant for Mr. Karim. Nevertheless, despite attempts to apprehend Mr. Karim, Mr. Karim has still avoided arrest over a year later. Most recently in August, Afghan Special Operation officers attempted to apprehend him but he was not at the residence when they arrived.

Meanwhile, Mr. Karim had appealed FIFA’s lifetime ban to the CAS and the CAS Panel’s decision has recently been released. In its decision, the Panel upheld both the lifetime ban and the 1,000,000 CHF fine, finding that due to the particular egregious nature of Karim’s acts, ‘they warrant the most severe sanction possible available under the FCE’. Since both Karim and his witnesses were unable to be heard, the case raises questions connected to the respect of fundamental procedural rights at the CAS.  More...

International and European Sports Law – Monthly Report – March-May 2020 by Thomas Terraz

Editor's note: This report compiles the most relevant legal news, events and materials on International and European Sports Law based on the daily coverage provided on our twitter feed @Sportslaw_asser. 

 

The Headlines

Coronavirus Pandemic Takes Over Sports

Since the last monthly report, the coronavirus pandemic has completely taken over the headlines and has had enormous impacts on the sports field. The most significant of these impacts so far was the rather slow (see here and here) decision by the IOC to move the Tokyo 2020 Olympic Games to 2021 after a widespread push among athlete stakeholders to do so. Concerns were raised that besides the wellbeing of the participants, athletes under lockdowns would not have the access to the training facilities, meaning preparations for the Games would suffer. The IOC has already started its new planning for Tokyo 2021 and sees this new opportunity to be ‘an Olympic flame’ at the end of a ‘dark tunnel’ for the entire world.

Besides the Olympics, football has also experienced colossal effects as this crisis landed right as leagues were approaching the end of their season. In this context, FIFA has released specific guidelines on player contracts and transfer windows, which has included extending player contracts to the new postponed end of season dates. It has also organized a working group on COVID-19, which has already made recommendations to postpone all men and women’s international matches that were to be played during the June 2020 window. Earlier in March, UEFA had already announced that the EURO 2020 was also postponed by 12 months and has also recently approved guidelines on domestic competitions. These guidelines place emphasis on ‘sporting merit’ and urge ‘National Associations and Leagues to explore all possible options to play all top domestic competitions giving access to UEFA club competitions to their natural conclusion’. Nevertheless, UEFA also emphasizes that the health of all stakeholders must remain the top priority.

In the end, numerous sport federations have also had to amend their calendars due to the pandemic (see UCI and FIBA) and a variety of sport stakeholders have been confronted with immense financial strain (e.g. football, tennis and cycling). For example, UEFA has acted preemptively in releasing club benefit payments to try to alleviate the economic pressure faced by clubs. There have also been efforts to support athletes directly (e.g. FIG and ITF). All in all, the social and economic impacts of the coronavirus pandemic on sport have been unprecedented and will require creative solutions while continuing to place public health as the top priority.

Platini’s ECtHR Appeal Falls Flat

There have also been a few other stories that have (understandably) been overshadowed by the pandemic. One of these include Michel Platini’s unsuccessful appeal to the ECtHR challenging his 2015 football ban. The ECtHR’s decision concerned the admissibility of his appeal and in the end found it to be ‘manifestly ill-founded’. This is because he failed to raise his procedural rights concerns under Article 6 (1) ECHR in his proceedings at the Swiss Federal Tribunal. Besides rejecting his other claims based on Article 7 and 8 ECHR, the ECtHR decision also touched upon the issue of CAS’ procedural and institutional independence. In doing so, it referred to its Pechstein decision and once more affirmed that the CAS is sufficiently independent and impartial (see para 65), further giving credence to this notion from its case law. However, there are still concerns on this matter as was highlighted in the Pechstein dissent. Overall, the decision indicates that the ECtHR is willing to give the CAS the benefit of the doubt so long as it sufficiently takes into account the ECHR in its awards.

Mark Dry – UKAD Dispute

In February, Mark Dry was suspended by UKAD after a decision of the National Anti-Doping Panel (NADP) Appeal Tribunal  for four years after having given a ‘false account’ in order to ‘subvert the Doping Control process’. Specifically, Dry had told anti-doping authorities that he had been out fishing after he had missed a test at his residence. After further investigation, Dry admitted that he had forgotten to update his whereabouts while he was actually visiting his parents in Scotland and in panic, had told anti-doping authorities that he had been out fishing. Following the decision of the NADP Appeal Tribunal, athlete stakeholders have argued the four-year ban was disproportionate in this case. In particular, Global Athlete contended that Whereabouts Anti-Doping Rule Violations only occur in cases where an athlete misses three tests or filing failures within a year. Furthermore, even if Dry had ‘tampered or attempted to tamper’, a four-year sanction is too harsh. Subsequently, UKAD responded with a statement, arguing that ‘deliberately providing false information’ is ‘a serious breach of the rules’ and that the UKAD NADP Appeal Tribunal ‘operates independently’. In light of the mounting pressure, Witold Bańka, WADA President, also responded on Twitter that he is ‘committed to ensuring that athletes’ rights are upheld under the World Anti-Doping Code’. More...

Anti-Doping in Times of COVID-19: A Difficult Balancing Exercise for WADA - By Marjolaine Viret

Editor's note: Marjolaine is a researcher and attorney admitted to the Geneva bar (Switzerland) who specialises in sports and life sciences.


I.               Introduction

The COVID-19 pandemic has shaken the manner in which we approach human interactions that suppose close and prolonged physical contact. Across the world, authorities are having to design ways to resume essential activities without jeopardising participants’ health, all the while guaranteeing that other fundamental rights are paid due respect. The fight against doping is no exception. Anti-doping organizations – whether public or private – have to be held to the same standards, including respect for physical integrity and privacy, and considerate application of the cornerstone principle of proportionality.

Throughout this global crisis, the World Anti-Doping Agency (‘WADA’) has carefully monitored the situation, providing anti-doping organizations and athletes with updates and advice. On 6 May 2020, WADA issued the document called ‘ADO Guidance for Resuming Testing’ (‘COVID Guidance’). A COVID-19 ‘Q&A’ for athletes (‘Athlete Q&A’) is also available on WADA’s website, and has been last updated on 25 May 2020. This article focuses on these two latest documents, and analyses the solutions proposed therein, and their impact on athletes.

Like many public or private recommendations issued for other societal activities, the WADA COVID Guidance is primarily aimed at conducting doping control while limiting the risk of transmission of the virus and ensuing harm to individuals. More specifically, one can identify two situations of interest for athletes that are notified for testing:

  1. The athlete has or suspects that they may have been infected with COVID-19, or has come in close contact with someone having COVID-19;
  2. The athlete fears to be in touch with doping control personnel that may be infected with COVID-19.

Quite obviously, either situation has the potential to create significant challenges when it comes to balancing the interests of anti-doping, with individual rights and data protection concerns. This article summarises how the latest WADA COVID Guidance and Athlete Q&A address both situations. It explores how the solutions suggested fit in with the WADA regulatory framework and how these might be assessed from a legal perspective.

The focus will be on the hypothesis in which international sports federations – i.e. private entities usually organised as associations or similar structures – are asked to implement the COVID Guidance within their sport. National anti-doping organizations are strongly embedded in their national legal system and their status and obligations as public or semi-public organisations are likely to be much more dependent on the legislative landscape put in place to deal with the COVID-19 pandemic in each country. Nevertheless, the general principles described in this article would apply to all anti-doping organizations alike, whether at international or national level. More...



(A)Political Games: A Critical History of Rule 50 of the Olympic Charter - By Thomas Terraz

Editor’s note: Thomas Terraz is a fourth year LL.B. candidate at the International and European Law programme at The Hague University of Applied Sciences with a specialisation in European Law. Currently he is pursuing an internship at the T.M.C. Asser Institute with a focus on International and European Sports Law.

 

Since its inception, the Olympic Movement, and in particular the IOC, has tirelessly endeavored to create a clean bubble around sport events, protecting its hallowed grounds from any perceived impurities. Some of these perceived ‘contaminants’ have eventually been accepted as a necessary part of sport over time (e.g. professionalism in sport),[1] while others are still strictly shunned (e.g. political protest and manifestations) and new ones have gained importance over the years (e.g. protection of intellectual property rights). The IOC has adopted a variety of legal mechanisms and measures to defend this sanitized space.  For instance, the IOC has led massive efforts to protect its and its partners’ intellectual property rights through campaigns against ambush marketing (e.g. ‘clean venues’ and minimizing the athletes’ ability to represent their personal sponsors[2]). Nowadays, the idea of the clean bubble is further reinforced through the colossal security operations created to protect the Olympic sites.

Nevertheless, politics, and in particular political protest, has long been regarded as one of the greatest threats to this sanitized space. More recently, politics has resurfaced in the context of the IOC Athletes’ Commission Rule 50 Guidelines. Although Rule 50 is nothing new, the Guidelines stirred considerable criticism, to which Richard Pound personally responded, arguing that Rule 50 is a rule encouraging ‘mutual respect’ through ‘restraint’ with the aim of using sport ‘to bring people together’.[3] In this regard, the Olympic Charter aims to avoid ‘vengeance, especially misguided vengeance’. These statements seem to endorse a view that one’s expression of their political beliefs at the Games is something that will inherently divide people and damage ‘mutual respect’. Thus, the question naturally arises: can the world only get along if ‘politics, religion, race and sexual orientation are set aside’?[4] Should one’s politics, personal belief and identity be considered so unholy that they must be left at the doorstep of the Games in the name of depoliticization and of the protection of the Games’ sanitized bubble? Moreover, is it even possible to separate politics and sport?  

Even Richard Pound would likely agree that politics and sport are at least to a certain degree bound to be intermingled.[5] However, numerous commentators have gone further and expressed their skepticism to the view that athletes should be limited in their freedom of expression during the Games (see here, here and here). Overall, the arguments made by these commentators have pointed out the hypocrisy that while the Games are bathed in politics, athletes – though without their labor there would be no Games – are severely restrained in expressing their own political beliefs. Additionally, they often bring attention to how some of the most iconic moments in the Games history are those where athletes took a stand on a political issue, often stirring significant controversy at the time. Nevertheless, what has not been fully explored is the relationship between the Olympic Games and politics in terms of the divide between the ideals of international unity enshrined in the Olympic Charter and on the other hand the de facto embrace of country versus country competition in the Olympic Games. While the Olympic Charter frames the Games as ‘competitions between athletes in individual or team events and not between countries’, the reality is far from this ideal.[6] Sport nationalism in this context can be considered as a form of politics because a country’s opportunity to host and perform well at the Games is frequently used to validate its global prowess and stature.

To explore this issue, this first blog will first take a historical approach by investigating the origins of political neutrality in sport followed by an examination of the clash between the ideal of political neutrality and the reality that politics permeate many facets of the Olympic Games. It will be argued that overall there has been a failure to separate politics and the Games but that this failure was inevitable and should not be automatically viewed negatively. The second blog will then dive into the Olympic Charter’s legal mechanisms that attempt to enforce political neutrality and minimize sport nationalism, which also is a form of politics. It will attempt to compare and contrast the IOC’s approach to political expression when exercised by the athletes with its treatment of widespread sport nationalism.More...

International and European Sports Law – Monthly Report – February 2020 - By Thomas Terraz

Editor's note: This report compiles the most relevant legal news, events and materials on International and European Sports Law based on the daily coverage provided on our twitter feed @Sportslaw_asser. 

 

The Headlines

Manchester City sanctioned by UEFA’s Financial Fair Play

Manchester City has been sanctioned under UEFA’s Financial Fair Play (FFP) regulations for two seasons for ‘overstating its sponsorship revenue in its accounts and in the break-even information’ it had provided UEFA. The February 14 decision of the Adjudicatory Chamber of the Club Financial Control Body (CFCB) likely heralds the start of a long and bitter legal war between Manchester City and UEFA, which may end up settling many of the questions surrounding the legality of FFP rules. Since its introduction in 2010, the compatibility of FFP with EU law, especially in terms of free movement and competition law, has been a continued point of contention amongst the parties concerned and commentators (see discussion here, here and here). It was only a matter of time that a case would arise to test this issue and the present circumstances seem to indicate that this may go all the way.                                 

Regardless, the ban will not be enforced this season and in light of the appeal process, it is hard to predict when the CFCB’s decision will have any effect. Indeed, Manchester City has shown an incredible willingness to fighting this out in the courts and shows no signs of backing down. The next stop will be the CAS and perhaps followed by the Swiss Federal Tribunal. It should also be recalled that the CAS has already examined FFP in its Galatasaray award, where it found FFP compatible with EU law (see commentary here). There is even a decent chance that this emerging saga may end up in front of the European Commission and eventually the Court of Justice of the European Union.

Sun Yang CAS award published

After a much-anticipated public hearing, the Panel’s award in the Sun Yang case has finally been published, sanctioning Sun Yang with an eight-year period of ineligibility (see here for a detailed commentary). The decision does not reveal anything groundbreaking in terms of its legal reasoning and in many ways the case will most likely be remembered for its historical significance: the case that jumpstarted a new era of increased public hearings at the CAS.

Perhaps of some interest is the extent to which the panel took into account Sun Yang’s behavior during the proceedings in order to support its assessment of the case. For example, the panel describes how Sun Yang had ignored the procedural rules of the hearing by inviting ‘an unknown and unannounced person from the public gallery to join him at his table and act as an impromptu interpreter’. The Panel interpreted this as Sun Yang attempting ‘to take matters into his own hands’ which it found resembled the athlete’s behavior in the case (see para 358). The Panel also found it ‘striking’ that Sun Yang did not express any remorse concerning his actions during the proceedings. Since the proceedings were held publicly and have been recorded, it is possible to verify the Panel’s assessment in this regard.

In the end, it is possible that Sun Yang may seek to reduce the period of ineligibility once the 2021 WADA Code comes into force (see para 368). For now, Sung Yang may also try to appeal the award to the Swiss Federal Tribunal on procedural grounds, and has already indicated his wish to do so. More...

Mega-sporting events and human rights: What role can EU sports diplomacy play? - Conference Report – By Thomas Terraz

Editor’s note: Thomas Terraz is a fourth year LL.B. candidate at the International and European Law programme at The Hague University of Applied Sciences with a specialisation in European Law. Currently he is pursuing an internship at the T.M.C. Asser Institute with a focus on International and European Sports Law.

 

1.     Introduction

 On March 05, the T.M.C. Asser Institute hosted ‘Mega-sporting events and human rights: What role can EU sports diplomacy play?’ a Multiplier Sporting Event organized in the framework of a European research project on ‘Promoting a Strategic Approach to EU Sports Diplomacy’. This project funded by the European Commission through its Erasmus+ program aims to help the EU adopt a strategic approach to sports diplomacy and to provide evidence of instances where sport can help amplify EU diplomatic messages and forge better relations with third countries. In particular, Antoine Duval from the Asser Institute is focusing on the role of EU sports diplomacy to strengthen human rights in the context of mega sporting events (MSE) both in Europe and abroad. To this end, he organized the two panels of the day focusing, on the one hand, on the ability of sport governing bodies (SGB) to leverage their diplomatic power to promote human rights, particularly in the context of MSEs and, on the other, on the EU’s role and capacity to strengthened human rights around MSEs. The following report summarizes the main points raised during the discussions. More...

Special Issue Call for Papers: Legal Aspects of Fantasy Sports - International Sports Law Journal

The International Sports Law Journal (ISLJ) invites submissions to a special issue focusing on legal aspects of fantasy sports. For some time, fantasy sports has been a major phenomena in North America and this has been reflected in the sports law literature. Fantasy sports have more recently grown in popularity in the rest of world, raising a number of novel legal questions. The ISLJ wants to support fruitful global discussions about these questions through a special issue. We welcome contributions from different jurisdictions analyzing fantasy sports from the perspective of various areas of law including, but not limited to, intellectual property law, gambling law, and competition law.

Please submit proposed papers through the ISLJ submission system (http://islj.edmgr.com/) no later than November 15, 2020. Submissions should have a reccomended length of 8,000–12,000 words and be prepared in accordance with the ISLJ's house style guidelines (https://www.springer.com/journal/40318/submission-guidelines). All submissions will be subject to double-blind peer review.

Question about the special issue can be directed to the Editor–in-Chief, Johan Lindholm (johan.lindholm@umu.se).

Asser International Sports Law Blog | How Data Protection Crystallises Key Legal Challenges in Anti-Doping - By Marjolaine Viret

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

How Data Protection Crystallises Key Legal Challenges in Anti-Doping - By Marjolaine Viret

Editor's Note: Marjolaine is a researcher and attorney admitted to the Geneva bar (Switzerland) who specialises in sports and life sciences. Her interests focus on interdisciplinary approaches as a way of designing effective solutions in the field of anti-doping and other science-based domains. Her book “Evidence in Anti-Doping at the Intersection of Science & Law” was published through T.M.C Asser Press / Springer in late 2015. She participates as a co-author on a project hosted by the University of Neuchâtel to produce the first article-by-article legal commentary of the 2021 World Anti-Doping Code. In her practice, she regularly advises international federations and other sports organisations on doping and other regulatory matters, in particular on aspects of scientific evidence, privacy or research regulation. She also has experience assisting clients in arbitration proceedings before the Court of Arbitration for Sport or other sport tribunals.


Since the spectre of the EU General Data Protection Regulation (‘GDPR’) has loomed over the sports sector,[1] a new wind seems to be blowing on anti-doping, with a palpable growing interest for stakes involved in data processing. Nothing that would quite qualify as a wind of change yet, but a gentle breeze of awareness at the very least.

Though the GDPR does mention the fight against doping in sport as a potential matter of public health in its recitals,[2] EU authorities have not gone so far as to create a standalone ground on which anti-doping organisations could rely to legitimise their data processing. Whether or not anti-doping organisations have a basis to process personal data – and specifically sensitive data – as part of their anti-doping activities, thus remains dependent on the peculiarities of each national law. Even anti-doping organisations that are incorporated outside the EU are affected to the extent they process data about athletes in the EU.[3] This includes international sports federations, many of which are organised as private associations under Swiss law. Moreover, the Swiss Data Protection Act (‘DPA’) is currently under review, and the revised legal framework should largely mirror the GDPR, subject to a few Swiss peculiarities. All anti-doping organisations undertake at a minimum to abide by the WADA International Standard for Privacy and the Protection of Personal Information (‘ISPPPI’), which has been adapted with effect to 1 June 2018 and enshrines requirements similar to those of the GDPR. However, the ISPPPI stops short of actually referring to the GDPR and leaves discretion for anti-doping organisations to adapt to other legislative environments.

The purpose of this blog is not to offer a detailed analysis of the requirements that anti-doping organisations must abide by under data protection laws, but to highlight how issues around data processing have come to crystallise key challenges that anti-doping organisations face globally. Some of these challenges have been on the table since the adoption of the first edition of the World Anti-Doping Code (‘WADC’) but are now exposed in the unforgiving light of data protection requirements.


Who is who and who does what?

It is hardly a scoop for those familiar with the World Anti-Doping Program to state that its structures are complex, relying on an intricate network of private entities as well as public (or quasi-public) agencies, each subject to their own applicable laws. The World Anti-Doping Program has always struggled with reconciling its objectives of global harmonisation with the sovereignty and diversity of national laws. National Anti-Doping Organisations (‘NADO’s) operate at the national level; they are in charge of doping issues across all sports in one country and are endowed with more or less extensive enforcement powers depending on their country’s regulatory approach to the sport sector. By contrast, international federations claim exclusive governance over one sport worldwide, uniformly and without regard to national borders but have to do so with the instruments available to private entities based on contractual or similar tools of private autonomy.

Over time, the WADC has been repeatedly updated to strike a balance between the two (national versus international) spheres and avoid positive or negative conflicts of competence. Provisions seek to clarify attributions in areas where international- and national-level competences collide, such as roles in Therapeutic Use Exemption (‘TUE’) management, testing authority, or results management responsibilities.[4] Even as it is, there is no safeguard to prevent disputes from arising about the proper authority to investigate and initiate proceedings for doping.[5]

Data processing activities are not exempted from the difficulties that accompany the complexity of anti-doping. If anything, these difficulties are rather exacerbated by data protection laws. In particular, the GDPR seeks to create a framework within which data subjects can easily recognise when data is being processed about them, by whom and to what aim(s), and whom to turn to in order to exercise their rights. This forces anti-doping organisations to be precise and unambiguous about their respective roles and attributions among themselves and chiefly towards the data subjects, the athletes subject to doping control.

The GDPR draws a distinction between two major categories of entities that process personal data: an entity can be characterised either as a data ‘controller’, or as a data ‘processor’. A controller is defined as an entity which “alone or jointly with others, determines the purposes and means of the processing of personal data”. A processor is an entity “which processes personal data on behalf of” a controller.[6]

The distinction may seem rather straightforward at first sight: the controller has a personal or commercial interest in the data processing and decides which data to collect, from whom, and through what means. At the other end of the spectrum, a ‘typical’ processor receives documented instructions from a controller and merely implements these instructions with no autonomy of decision or an autonomy limited to technical issues and logistics. However, interrelationships are often much more subtle in reality with considerable room for borderline situations: multiple controllers may need to agree on their (joint) controllership of the data while operating alongside entities that may act in part as processors, in part as controllers of their own right for different aspects of the data processing.[7]

In anti-doping, more than half a dozen entities may be involved in a routine doping control activity, between test planning and the outcome of a disciplinary process. All of these will either collect or gain access to athlete data, including sensitive data, as illustrated by the following: an international federation decides to conduct blood testing on an athlete from its registered testing pool but delegates sample collection to the NADO of the country in which the athlete is currently residing. To do so, the NADO has access to the athlete’s whereabouts filings through the ADAMS database, managed by the World Anti-Doping Agency (‘WADA’). The NADO itself carries out sample collection through a private service provider with its dedicated blood control officers and decides to use the opportunity to order, in addition, the collection of urine samples from the athlete. Upon sampling, the athlete is asked to fill in the doping control form in front of the doping control personnel, which includes disclosing several ongoing medication courses in the dedicated box. Samples are then transported, in a de-identified (‘coded’) form, by private courier from the country of collection to the international federation’s usual WADA-accredited laboratory in a different country.

Assuming the laboratory reports an adverse analytical finding in the blood sample, the international federation requests a full documentation package from the laboratory and verifies whether a Therapeutic Use Exemption on the record could be related to the adverse analytical finding. Upon notification of the results and public announcement of the immediate provisional suspension, the athlete requests the analysis of the B sample, thereby de facto lifting the code on the A sample where the laboratory is concerned. The athlete submits a series of explanations regarding the possible causes for the adverse analytical finding, including a report from his treating physician regarding a medical condition that might account for the findings. The international federation may send the laboratory documentation package and athlete explanations to external experts for additional input and then hands over the file to its external anti-doping tribunal members. Most data will at some point have to pass through the ADAMS database and be stored within that database for up to ten years. However, it may also be communicated by other (electronic or physical) means among anti-doping organisations and their service providers and experts.

Once the disciplinary decision is issued, its main elements are publicly disclosed by the international federation on its website, and the decision shared with WADA and any NADO having jurisdiction over the athlete. The NADO further decides to send the negative urine sample for long-term storage and possible reanalysis to the WADA-accredited laboratory that provides its storage facilities.

The above description represents an imaginary but ultimately rather standard situation for anti-doping organisations. It does not seem too far-fetched to identify that the international federation at the very least acts as a controller of the athlete data processed. However, a NADO who receives instructions to collect samples and also decides to collect additional data (and additional biological materials) on its own and for its own purposes, potentially acts as both a processor and controller depending on the data at stake. A number of processors and sub-processors are involved in the process as service providers, while the qualification of external experts may have to be assessed on a case-by-case basis. WADA offers the ADAMS database as an IT infrastructure for data storage and sharing for the international federation and NADO but also uses the data to fulfil its own obligations and purposes under the WADC, such as exercising its appeal rights or verifying compliance of the anti-doping organisations with their duties. Arguably, at the very least there will be three controllers of data (international federation, NADO, and WADA) in addition to multiple processors and sub-processors.

Characterising the role of each entity as a ‘controller’ or as a ‘processor’ is far from being of academic interest only. The two types of entities have distinct responsibilities and requirements for lawful processing. Appropriate contractual arrangements need to be set up among the entities involved, and data subjects must be informed of these in a comprehensible manner allowing them to exercise their rights. Controllers have primary responsibility for dealing with data subject requests and responding to supervisory authorities and have a more extensive scope of liability across the entire scope of data processing. By contrast, processors are, in essence, only liable for their own processing activities and merely undertake to support the controllers in their obligations towards data subjects and authorities.[8]

There is one other important difference that carries special significance in the context of anti-doping: a processor who acts under instructions can rely on the processing contract with the controller responsible for the data as a lawful basis for processing.[9] By contrast, if two or more parties qualify as controllers in their own right, each controller needs to secure its individual lawful basis with respect to the data subjects. The requirement of lawful processing is entwined with the discussion around the validity of ‘consent’ to anti-doping regulations.


Lawful basis and problematic character of consent

Processing of personal data under the GDRP requires a lawful basis. As relevant to our topic, three types of legitimising grounds co-exist: i.) grounds rooted in private autonomy (consent or necessity for performance of a contract with the data subject), ii.) grounds relying on public interest or overriding interests of the controller (e.g. pursuing a legal claim), or iii.) a specific basis in Union or national law, e.g. for performance of a substantial public interest or public health task.[10] Not all grounds enter into consideration for every category of data; special categories of data – also known as ‘sensitive’ data under the DPA – have a more limited number of valid processing grounds.[11] Obviously, a major part of data processed as part of doping control qualifies as sensitive data as it relates to health,[12] including the data gathered through analysis of doping control samples or collected as part of TUE applications.

The traditional way for international sports organisations to impose their rules on their ultimate addressees, i.e., the individual athletes, has been through contract, quasi-contractual chains of submission, or other instruments involving a declaration of consent. The validity of consent on the part of those who submit to anti-doping regulations is a recurring matter for debate, in particular as its informed and voluntary character is generally described at best as limited and more frequently as purely illusory. The issue has been scrutinised in particular with respect to submission to proceedings before the Court of Arbitration for Sport (‘CAS’),[13] which the WADC imposes as a legal remedy in international doping disputes. While acknowledging the ‘constrained’ nature of the athlete’s consent, the Swiss Supreme Court accepts the validity of arbitration clauses in sports regulations in the name of the needs for swift and competent resolution of sport disputes. It has, however, imposed certain limits on the extent to which an athlete can entrust their fate to the sports resolution system. As decided in the Cañas v. ATP case, an athlete cannot validly waive in advance the right to challenge the CAS award in front of the Supreme Court in disciplinary matters.[14] In Pechstein v. Switzerland, the European Court of Human Rights (‘ECtHR’) was asked to discuss the status of an arbitration clause in the context of doping proceedings. It reached the same conclusion that the only choice offered to the athlete was either to accept the clause in order to be able to make a living by practising her sport at a professional level or to refuse it and completely give up on practising at such level. As a result of this restriction on the athlete’s professional life, it was not possible to argue that she accepted the clause ‘in a free and unequivocal manner’.[15]

In both cases, the findings were ultimately of little consequence for the sports sector. The Swiss Supreme Court only reviews CAS awards through an extremely narrow lens so that the power to set strategic jurisprudence in sports matters remains with the CAS panels, whether or not athletes retain their rights to challenge the award. Similarly, in the Claudia Pechstein matter, the only shortcoming found in the ruling was the lack of an option for a public hearing in CAS proceedings. Absence of genuine consent has thus been – expressly or implicitly – compensated for by courts through procedural safeguards, in an effort to ensure that athletes still benefit overall from a system of justice broadly compliant with Article 6 of the European Convention on Human Rights.

Data protection issues create a greater challenge here, since the GDPR explicitly requires consent to be ‘freely given’, in addition to being informed.[16] The same is true under the Swiss DPA.[17] The GDPR does not accommodate compensatory mechanisms to account for the ‘fictional’ character of consent in the sports context: consent that is not optional is not free, and consent that is not free is not valid. Importantly, free consent also presupposes that consent can be withdrawn at any time as easily as it was given and without significant detrimental consequences for the data subject.[18]

I will not delve here into how anti-doping organisations can fulfil the requirement of ‘informed consent’, which as per the GDPR requires “intelligible and easily accessible form, using clear and plain language”.[19] The template information notices (here and here) proposed by WADA currently in effect inform athletes, in essence, that their data may be processed based on various legal grounds, may be accessed by various entities around the world according to various data protections laws, which may offer them various levels of protection, and that they may have various rights and obligations under these laws. It is questionable whether explanations in this form would satisfy the requirements for informed consent. Still, adequate information appears at least achievable with appropriate and individualised legal drafting supported by a data protection specialist. The question of free consent is a much more delicate one since it is not in the hands of anti-doping organisations to give athletes a genuine choice in this respect.

In spite of the potential financial implications, one could argue that consent is freely given where the athlete can choose at any time to withdraw consent to data processing, with the sole consequence of losing the benefit of the services attached to the ‘contractual’ relationship with their sports authorities, i.e. the right to participate in sports competitions. This would, for example, suppose that an athlete notified of a testing attempt could elect to either submit or instead declare immediate retirement from sport without any further consequences. Under the current rules, however, such withdrawal of consent would trigger disciplinary sanctions, which may include ineligibility or fines depending on the sport, and in any event, will have a significant impact on the athlete’s reputation. The templates proposed by WADA explicitly warn athletes about these consequences, as well as the fact that anti-doping organisations may retain and continue processing their data in spite of any withdrawal (see here and here). In fact, the WADC provides that the results management and disciplinary process may be initiated or may continue in spite of the athlete announcing their retirement from sport.[20]

To this day, one is still awaiting a realistic proposal that would allow consent to anti-doping regulations to be genuinely freely given. Most stakeholders would agree that there is no viable manner of making compliance with anti-doping rules optional for athletes without undermining the very notion of a level playing field.[21] Unlike the relatively benign implications that lack of genuine consent had for the sport dispute resolution system so far, the impossibility of creating the prerequisites for free consent to anti-doping regulations is far more consequential in the data protection context. Indeed, it precludes reliance on consent as a reliable lawful basis that can be used globally by international sports governing bodies to secure the lawfulness of their data processing. This is the case unless courts would be willing to go against the explicit wording of data protection laws and tolerate ‘forced’ consent as a lawful basis in the context of sport.

As the Swiss Federal Council noted in their official communication on the Swiss Sport Act, the questionable validity of athlete consent makes it necessary to create express legal provisions authorising anti-doping organisations to collect and process personal data for anti-doping purposes.[22] Under the GDPR, processing sensitive data relying on an interest of substantial public or public health interest equally requires a legal basis in EU or relevant national law of a member state. Without intervention of national lawmakers to recognise anti-doping as a matter of ‘substantial public interest’ or ‘public health’ interest and identify those entities that are entitled by law to process data together with an appropriate description of the admissible scope and purposes for such processing, sports organisations will continue to rest on shaky ground when it comes to data processing and in particular processing of sensitive data.


Proportionality of treatment

The issue of proportionality is relevant for almost any component of an anti-doping system. It is recognised by CAS panels and courts as an internationally accepted standard,[23] as part of the assessment for deciding whether an encroachment upon individual freedoms is justifiable and justified in any given case. Proportionality is frequently debated in connection with the severity of the disciplinary sanctions set forth in the WADC,[24] but it is also a test that every other aspect of the regulation must stand up to.[25]

An important limb of the proportionality test is the ‘necessity’ of a measure having regard to the rights affected. This aspect was recently addressed by the European Court for Human Rights in the context of French legislation on the whereabouts regime applicable to professional athletes and its compatibility with privacy: “the general‑interest considerations that make them necessary are particularly important and, in the Court’s view, justify the restrictions on the applicants’ rights under Article 8 of the Convention. Reducing or removing the requirements of which the applicants complain would be liable to increase the dangers of doping to their health and that of the entire sporting community, and would run counter to the European and international consensus on the need for unannounced testing.”[26] The ECtHR conducted its assessment with respect to the right to privacy under Article 8 of the European Convention on Human Rights without having regard to specific data protection provisions.

The requirement of proportionality is a pillar of data protection in all its aspects, from the decision to collect the data to its retention. It is enshrined both in the GDPR and in the DPA[27] and is notably also highlighted in the WADA ISPPPI.[28] Concerns about proportionality of the anti-doping system were expressed by EU data protection advisory authorities as early as 2008,[29] and numerous exchanges with WADA have ensued.[30] Various adjustments have been made to the ISPPPI since then with a significant review to adapt the ISPPPI to the GDPR requirements, and a new set of WADA Guidelines adopted in 2018.

Still, the threats on proportionality are bound to be ubiquitous in a context where standardisation is a guiding principle of regulation. For example, the ISPPPI (Annex A) enshrines retention times based on different categories of data (TUE, samples, whereabouts, etc.), but with only two different retention periods overall: 18 months (newly being reconsidered in the draft revised version as 12 months) or 10 years. These have been criticised again in the ongoing stakeholder consultation process as being insufficiently differentiated to be adequate.[31] Indeed, while a column in the Annex formally indicates for each category that the retention time has been chosen based on “necessity” or “proportionality” criteria, Annex A states in limine that the limitation to two retention periods is “for practical reasons”. These justifications cannot be easily reconciled. To properly account for proportionality, anti-doping organisations would need to conduct their own assessment in a more individualised fashion, adapted to their athlete pool and sport. However, as in many other domains of doping control, one wonders how many of them will have the resources, competences and willingness to look beyond WADA prescriptions. Also, since most of the data must be processed through the ADAMS database managed by WADA, anti-doping organisations may have limited effective power over the set-up of the data deletion process.

The proportionality principle is also connected to another fundamental requirement, which is that data processing must remain within the ‘purpose’ defined (‘purpose limitation’ principle). The ISPPPI contains a list of purposes for which anti-doping organisations may process data. However, the ISPPPI gives anti-doping organisations an option to decide to process data for other purposes related to the fight against doping, provided they carry out a documented assessment. The WADA Guidelines propose a template for ‘new purpose assessment’, and indicate that such new purpose could encompass purposes that were not contemplated in the WADC nor perhaps could even be envisaged at the time of collection. The draft revised ISPPPI seems to go even further down this line: “In certain contexts, it may be appropriate or necessary for Anti-Doping Organizations/WADA to Process Personal Information for additional purposes, […] besides those already permitted or required by the Code, the International Standard or expressly required by law, in order to engage effectively in the fight against doping”.[32] It is unclear how this assessment is to be effectively implemented especially for sensitive data, be it under the assumption of a consensual basis or of one based on national law recognising substantial public interests for anti-doping activities. In both cases, if the actual purposes for which the data may be used are in limbo awaiting potential reassessment for ‘new’ purposes, it is questionable whether informed consent or a sufficiently predictable legal basis respectively could even be created.[33]

As the claims for more ‘evidence-based’ approaches and stronger monitoring of anti-doping programs grow louder, more thought could be spent on proportionality and purpose limitation of data processing in anti-doping. Most of the discussion so far has revolved around the intrusiveness of the whereabouts requirements. Whereabouts information, however, is only collected from a limited number of high-profile athletes (i.e., those included within a registered testing pool) and is only a fraction of the data collected as part of anti-doping programs. In the FNASS et al. v. France ruling, the ECtHR essentially relied on the pleas of the anti-doping movement and governments to find that the fight against doping pursues a public health interest and implements it in a proportionate way. In doing so, the ECtHR seems to perpetuate a tendency of CAS and other courts to take policy documents and consensus statements - whether enshrined or not in international law instruments such as the UNESCO Convention against Doping in Sport - as proof of the reality of the claims they contain[34] without requiring much supporting evidence. In many instances, this is technically justified by placing on the contesting party the burden of demonstrating any lack of proportionality.[35] On a higher level, however, it tends to create a presumption that any doubt must benefit the cause of anti-doping.[36] This may lead to self-perpetuating policy biases based on circular reasoning by justifying new measures through previous, unverified claims.

Data protection laws, with their detailed requirements and descriptions of data subject rights, may offer a foundation for a more granular analysis than general human rights provisions under the undetermined heading of ‘privacy’. Opportunities for legal analysis may still be hindered by the fact that an argument related to data protection is hard to build into a defence when athletes – or their counsel – would typically start seriously thinking about these issues only once they become subject to investigations or discipline for a potential breach of the anti-doping rules. CAS panels have been rather generous in admitting evidence unlawfully obtained against individuals charged in disciplinary proceedings.[37] It could thus prove extremely difficult – perhaps even counter-productive as a defence strategy – for an athlete to object to the admissibility of doping control data obtained in breach of data protection laws, in particular when the objection relates to a breach that leaves as much discretion to the panel as proportionality of data collection or retention. CAS panels have repeatedly recognised the fight against doping as an interest that overrides individual freedoms without carrying out much of an individualised balance of the interests at stake. [38]  More promising impetus could come from a random athlete seeking advice from supervisory authorities through the avenues offered by his or her national data protection laws prior to exposure to a positive test or other disciplinary action. Unfortunately, much like consumers, athletes often seem to show little interest in their privacy until they are confronted with some tangible detrimental consequences.


A true plague or a real opportunity?

Some may view recent developments in data protection laws as just another headache for sports governing bodies and deplore the advent of a new hurdle for anti-doping organisations who aspire to take their tasks under the World Anti-Doping Program seriously. Anti-doping organisations advocate that they are carrying out a mission of public interest. As we have seen, this view has been supported by various bodies and courts around the world and is also reflected in the UNESCO Convention against Doping in Sport. However, the GDPR does not regard public interest as an absolute basis for all data processing; in particular, sensitive data cannot be processed on the sole basis of an alleged public interest unless such public interest is substantial or related to public health, and its modalities are set out in national or EU law.

In a time where the credibility of existing structures and procedures within anti-doping authorities is questioned, the challenge arising from data protection standards can also be perceived as an opportunity for the anti-doping system. The ISPPPI and related WADA Guidelines, unfortunately, do not purport to provide solutions to the various crucial challenge set out above but merely invite anti-doping organisations to act in accordance with their applicable data protection laws. They give little guidance on how this is to be achieved in the event that these laws conflict with their duties under the WADC.

Developments in data protection force anti-doping organisations to look at their structures, legal status and their relationships with other organisations within the system. These developments should also have the effect of prompting national legislators to take measures more supportive of anti-doping policies in this domain, and in particular by making sure that sports governing bodies benefit from an appropriate legal basis for processing data, including sensitive data. Given that the very purpose of the WADC is to harmonise the regulation of doping in sport worldwide and that this objective is routinely invoked to justify restrictions on athlete rights, it would seem somewhat counterintuitive not to afford all athletes the same level of protection where their data is concerned. If there is truly a general international consensus on the legitimacy of the fight against doping and this consensus is supported by the State parties to the UNESCO Convention, those States, at a minimum, must be willing to give anti-doping organisations the means to carry out their tasks in a legally sustainable manner, unless and until these States are ready to engage in a fundamental overhaul of the current system.


[1] Regulation (EU) 2016/679 of the European Parliament and of the Council of 27 April 2016 on the protection of natural persons with regard to the processing of personal data and on the free movement of such data. The GDPR started to apply on 25 May 2018. In theory, all entities conducting data processing activities within the scope of the GDPR ought to have secured compliance as of this effective date.

[2] Recital 112 refers to requirements for cross-border data transfers and provides: “Those derogations should in particular apply to data transfers required and necessary […] for public health, for example […] in order to reduce and/or eliminate doping in sport”.

[3] Article 3 para. 2 of the GDPR regarding territorial scope of application.

[4] See Articles 4.4 of the WADC for TUEs, 5.2 for testing, and 7.1 for results management.

[5] See e.g. CAS 2014/A/3598, 3599 & 3618, in which the authority of USADA to initiate proceedings against Johan Bruyneel and others was challenged.

[6] Article 4 (Definitions) of the GDPR. Note that a processor within the meaning of the GDPR may itself choose to delegate part of its activities to a sub-processor, if and to the extent authorised by the controller.

[7] See the guidance and examples given by the UK Information Commissioner’s Office.

[8] See Chapter IV of the GDPR.

[9] Article 28 para. 3 of the GDPR.

[10] Article 6 of the GDPR.

[11] Article 9 of the GDPR.

[12] Article 9 para. 1 of the GDPR; Article 3 lit. c of the DPA.

[13] See e.g. Duval A (2017) Not in My Name! Claudia Pechstein and the Post-Consensual Foundations of the Court of Arbitration for Sport, Max Planck Institute for Comparative Public Law & International Law (MPIL) Research Paper No. 2017-01; Rigozzi A & Robert-Tissot F (2015) "Consent" in Sports Arbitration: Its Multiple Aspects. In: Geisinger & Trabaldo-De Mestral (eds) Sports Arbitration: A Coach for Other Players? ASA Series 41, Jurisnet NY, pp 59-95;

[14] Swiss Supreme Court Decision, 4P.172/2006, 22 March 2007.

[15] ECtHR Decision 22 October 2018, Mutu & Pechstein v. Switzerland, no 40575/10 et 67474/10, para. 114.

[16] Article 4 (Definitions) of the GDPR.

[17] Article 4 para. 5 of the DPA.

[18] Article 7 para. 3 of the GDPR.

[19] Article 7 para. 2 of the GDPR.

[20] Article 7.11 of the WADC.

[21] Though it is often debated to what extent exactly the performance enhancing effect of individual prohibited substances and methods is established. Heuberger J, Cohen A (2018) Review of WADA Prohibited Substances: Limited Evidence for Performance-Enhancing Effects. Sports Med. 2019; 49(4): 525–539.

[22] Message du Conseil fédéral du 11 nov. 2009, FF 09.082, pp 7450/7451 : « Aujourd’hui, les contrôles antidopage relevant du sport de droit privé reposent sur une déclaration de consentement du sportif. Cette déclaration doit être librement consentie. Or, cette liberté n’est pas garantie, dans la mesure où le refus de donner son consentement peut entraîner l’exclusion de la manifestation ou la perte de la licence ».

[23] CAS 2005/C/976 & 986, FIFA & WADA, para. 138 ; CJEU decision Meca-Medina & Majcen v. Commission (C-519/04).

[24] A recent example: CAS 2018/A/5546, Guerrero v. FIFA, CAS 2018/A/5571, WADA v. FIFA & Guerrero, paras 85 et seq.; Legal Opinion by Jean-Paul Costa on the 2015 revision of the WADC.

[25] Viret (2016), Evidence in Anti-Doping at the Intersection of Science & Law, T.M.C Asser, p. 133; Since its 2015 version, the WADC has included an explicit reference to proportionality as one of the key considerations underlying its drafting. See introductory section “Purpose, Scope and Organization of the World Anti-Doping Program and the Code”.

[26]ECtHR, FNASS et al. v. France (48151/11 and 77769/13), para. 191.

[27] Article 5(1)(c) of the GDPR, whereas the data must be “adequate, relevant and limited to what is necessary in relation to the purposes for which they are processed (‘data minimisation’)”.

[28] Section 5.0 ISPPI “Processing Relevant and Proportionate Personal Information”.

[29] Art. 29 Working Party, now replaced by the European Data Protection Board under the GDPR.

[30] See collection of legal documents on WADA website.

[31] Comment to revised ISPPPI by NADA Germany, ad Annex Retention Times.

[32] Comment ad Article 5.3(d) draft ISPPPI.

[33] The EU Commission warns that extension of purpose is not possible where processing was based on consent or a provision of law without renewing the consent or creating a new legal basis.

[34] See e.g. preamble of the UNESCO Convention “Concerned by the use of doping by athletes in sport and the consequences thereof for their health, the principle of fair play, the elimination of cheating and the future of sport”.

[35] See already in CJEU decision Meca-Medina & Majcen v. Commission (C-519/04) regarding the proportionality of threshold levels.

[36] Maisonneuve Mathieu, La CEDH et les obligations de localisation des sportifs : le doute profite à la conventionnalité de la lutte contre le dopage, note sous CEDH, 5e sect., 18 January 2018, Fédération nationale des associations et des syndicats sportifs (FNASS) et autres c. France, req. Nos 48151/11 et 77769/13. Journal d’actualité des droits européenes, Centre de recherches et de documentation européennes et internationales, 2018.

[37] CAS 2016/A/4487, IAAF v. Melnikov, para. 108.

[38] CAS 2009/A/1879, Valverde v. CONI, para. 139.

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