The Asser International Sports Law Centre in collaboration with Dr Marjolaine Viret is launching a new series of zoom webinars on transnational sports law: Zoom In. The first discussion (4 December at 16.00) will zoom in on the recent arbitral award delivered by the Court of Arbitration for Sport (CAS) in the Blake Leeper v. International Association of Athletics Federations (IAAF) case.

In this decision, reminiscent of the famous Pistorius award rendered a decade ago, the CAS panel ruled on the validity of an IAAF rule that places the burden on a disabled athlete to prove that a mechanical aid used to compete in IAAF-sanctioned competitions does not give them an overall competitive advantage. While siding with the athlete, Blake Leeper, on the burden of proof, the CAS panel did conclude that Leeper’s prosthesis provided him an undue advantage over other athletes and hence that the IAAF could bar him from competing in its events.

To reflect on the key aspects of the decision and its implications, we have invited scholars with different disciplinary backgrounds to join the zoom discussion. 

Confirmed guests

• Prof. Christophe Lazaro (UC Louvain)
• Prof. Wolfgang Potthast (University of Cologne)

 Moderators

• Dr Antoine Duval (Asser Institute)
• Dr Marjolaine Viret
  

The webinar is freely available, but registration here is necessary.

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

The International Olympic Committee (IOC), after many years of ineffective pushback (see here, here and here) over bye law 3 of rule 40[1] of the Olympic Charter (OC), which restricts the ability of athletes and their entourage to advertise themselves during the ‘blackout’ period’[2] (also known as the ‘frozen period’) of the Olympic Games, may have been gifted a silver bullet to address a major criticism of its rules. This (potentially) magic formula was handed down in a relatively recent decision of the Bundeskartellamt, the German competition law authority, which elucidated how restrictions to athletes’ advertisements during the frozen period may be scrutinized under EU competition law. The following blog begins by explaining the historical and economic context of rule 40 followed by the facts that led to the decision of the Bundeskartellamt. With this background, the decision of the Bundeskartellamt is analyzed to show to what extent it may serve as a model for EU competition law authorities.

2        Rule 40 in Context

Before dissecting the decision, the considerable impact of the IOC’s rule 40 and its implementation by national Olympic committees (NOCs) must be emphasized. Many athletes look to the Olympic Games as a unique opportunity to gain exposure and benefit financially from their accomplishments, especially considering that many athletes who qualify for the Olympic Games struggle to make a living from their sport. Athletes are greatly reliant on external funding, particularly from sponsors, to fund their career.[3] To further complicate matters, many sports only enjoy a meaningful spotlight during the Olympic Games. Hence, athletes in those sports view the Games as an unparalleled occasion to become known to a wider public and gain new sponsors. So, why does the IOC restrict these opportunities?

Rule 40’s existence is principally due to The Olympic Partner Programme (TOP), a closed group of thirteen sponsors, which was created in 1985 with the aim of diversifying and securing greater means of funding for the Olympic Games.  It was the brainchild of Michael Payne who has defended the importance of preserving the ‘value of the Olympic sponsorship program’ to prevent a return to the days where the funding of the Games was highly dependent on ticket sales.[4] For the IOC, preserving the value of TOP has meant taking aggressive actions against ambush marketing, which according to Payne is ‘any communication or activity that implies, or from which one could reasonably infer, that an organisation is associated with an event, when in fact it is not’. Payne describes the ways in which the IOC has attempted to tackle ambush marketing, which includes educating the public about ambush marketing, preventing ambush marketing through prohibiting non-sponsor association and controlling Olympic imagery among other methods, and finally legal action, which according to Payne, ‘the mere threat of this is often enough to bring the offending party into line’. In this view, rule 40 can mainly be categorized as a preventative measure.

Rule 40 has also experienced an evolution ever since it was first introduced in 1991 into the OC, which has also meant that ‘defining the scope of rule 40 and understanding its nuances is a process that evolves with each iteration of the games’.[5] Although rule 40 has recently moved from a general ban on advertising with limited exceptions into allowing it under severe restrictions, it remains to be seen whether the IOC will fundamentally rethink the conditions applied to athlete advertising. Meanwhile, athletes, who were partly the initiators of the complaint to the Bundeskartellamt, have perhaps realized that public awareness campaigns have not brought about the drastic change they had hoped for. In the present case, the Bundeskartellamt’s attention was drawn to rule 40 OC after a complaint from Athleten Deutschland (German Athlete Commission) and Bundesverband der Deutschen Sportartikelindustrie (Federal Association of the German Sports Goods Industry).

3        Background to the Decision

Before examining the substance of the Bundeskartellamt’s decision, it is important to understand that rule 40, as it was analyzed in the decision, was the one that was in place in the lead up to the Rio 2016 Games.[6] It states:

 “Except as permitted by the IOC Executive Board, no competitor, team official or other team personnel who participates in the Olympic Games may allow his person, name, picture, or sports performances to be used for advertising purposes during the Olympic Games.”

In other words, a general ban on advertisement with limited exceptions. The applicable conditions meant that only athletes with TOP sponsors could launch an advertising campaign during the Rio 2016 Olympic Games and ongoing campaigns from non-TOP sponsors were subject to authorization. Further complicating the matter, NOCs could introduce additional restrictions or opt-out completely from allowing their athletes to advertise during the frozen period.[7] The German Olympic Sports Federation (DOSB), in its 2016 guidelines[AD1]  (page 78), distinguished between DOSB sponsors, Olympic sponsors and non-Olympic sponsors.[8] In the case of non-Olympic sponsors, ‘only advertising activities which had started at least three months prior to the Olympic Games had a chance of being approved’, which means potential sponsors needed to have early concepts ready before that date (early April). It should also be noted that at that time, the DOSB had not yet nominated any athletes for the Olympic Games. In addition to the deadlines, references to the Olympic Movement were strictly forbidden, which included an incredibly broad list of words and phrases.[9] If they wanted to participate in the Games, athletes were forced to subscribe to these rules via the athlete agreement (page 83) [AD2] and any breach could imply sanctions, which included removal from the Olympic Team.[10]

The conditions that these rules impose is succinctly summarized by Grady who explains that though the IOC claimed it had relaxed its rules, it ‘did not create the kinds of opportunities that the IOC may have envisioned’, which in effect ‘precluded almost all but the most powerful global brands from taking full advantage of the ability to feature Olympic athletes during the Games’, a view that was acknowledged by the Bundeskartellamt.[11]

4        The Bundeskartellamt’s Decision

Although the present case was resolved through the commitments made by the IOC, the Bundeskartellamt still provided a preliminary assessment concerning the relevant market, the abuse of a dominant position, possible justifications, and proportionality, which are analyzed below.

4.1       Relevant Market

Having decided to resolve the case on the basis of Article 102 TFEU,[12] the Bundeskartellamt identified the relevant market on the basis of a ‘modified concept of demand-side substitutability’ and defined the market as the ‘market for the organisation and marketing of the Olympic Games’.[13] It considered that the Olympic Games was an event that differed from other major sport events from the consumers’ point of view because of the wide variety of sports that are covered and because certain sports which perhaps are not normally broadcasted in a particular country receive extensive media coverage during the Games.[14] The Bundeskartellamt supported its analysis of the relevant market by referring to MOTOE in which the CJEU also defined the ‘relevant product market for the organisation (and marketing) of sports events according to the type of sport’.[15] Lastly, it found that the athletes participating in the Games to be ‘customers of the organisation and marketing of sport events’.[16] ‘Other well-known competitions’ could be considered as an alternative for certain athletes, however, many athletes practice sports that receive very little media attention outside the Games, meaning that overall the substitutability between the Olympic Games and other major sports events is limited.[17]

4.2       An Abuse of a Dominant Position

Next, the Bundeskartellamt considered the members of the Olympic Movement to be in a collectively dominant position in the aforementioned market and deemed them to be undertakings regardless of the fact that they do not make a profit.[18] It also asserted that the members of the Olympic Movement were abusing their dominant position, hindering effective competition, for several reasons. First, the registration deadlines to request authorization were set too early since athletes did not know whether they were even going to the Olympics in the first place. Moreover, the Bundeskartellamt ruled that the very use of registration and authorization criteria could have a prohibitive effect for certain kinds of advertisements. Even though ‘ongoing’ advertisement could be approved, it was still subject to restrictions since it could not use any ‘designations and symbols as well as images and videos’ connected to the Olympic Games.[19] As stated earlier, these are very extensive and make it ‘difficult to market an athlete’s participation in the Olympic Games’.[20] In the end, the sanctions that athletes could face exacerbated the restriction on competition, especially since the sanctions had no proportionality requirements and an appeal could only be made to the CAS.[21]

4.3       Justifications

At this point the Bundeskartellamt moved to make a preliminary assessment as to whether the abuse of the dominant position inherently pursued legitimate objectives and whether the restriction is proportionate to its claimed objective (the Wouters test[22]).  It is interesting to note that the Bundeskartellamt decided to apply the Wouters test to an Article 102 TFEU case and expressly stated that ‘it is to be assumed that the criteria are also meant to apply with regard to the applicability of Art. 82 EC’ (now Article 102 TFEU) in referring to the CJEU’s Meca-Medina case.[23]  Only one of the pursued objectives of the IOC was considered legitimate, while all the others, including ‘preserving the financial stability and sustainability of the Olympic Movement and the Olympic Games’, ‘preserving the value of the Olympic brand to finance the Olympic solidarity model’, and ‘preventing the excessive commercialisation of the Olympic Games’, were not found to be legitimate.[24] The three rejected objectives reflects the decisional practice of the Commission and the CJEU that ‘economic aims cannot justify restrictions’, which the Bundeskartellamt directly acknowledges.[25] This is why it is interesting that the Bundeskartellamt then found that the ‘prevention of ambush marketing during the frozen period in order to safeguard the funding of the Olympic Games, facilitated in part by Olympic sponsorship programmes, and thus to ensure that the Games can be held on a regular basis’ as the only legitimate objective.[26]

A literal reading of this aim seemingly exposes an economic dimension since the IOC wishes to protect TOP and as a consequence, its own budget. However, the Bundeskartellamt was convinced by the IOC’s contention that this was no economic objective,[27] since the ultimate aim of the objective is to ensure the Olympic Games’ consistent occurrence. It could be argued that there are in fact two objectives mangled into one: (1) the prevention of ambush marketing to protect TOP (an economically motivated objective) and (2) ensuring the regular occurrence of the Games (a non-economically motivated objective). The Bundeskartellamt decided to not disentangle the two and accepted that they were in fact one inseparable objective, whereby the latter sub-objective ultimately sidelines the economic dimension of the first. On the other hand, the CJEU’s case law on economic justifications has not been entirely consistent and there has been occasions where it has accepted economic justifications.[28] Furthermore, an efficiency defense could also allow for economic justifications in which the IOC could argue that preventing ambush marketing in order to protect TOP benefits consumers, outweighing any negative effects to competition.[29] In the end, it might be desirable that any future analysis of this dual objective at least acknowledge that there is an underlying economic interest. [TT3] 

4.4       Proportionality

Before analyzing the proportionality of the measure in terms of the prevention of ambush marketing, the Bundeskartellamt defined ambush marketing as ‘the planned endeavour of a company, which is not an official sponsor of a major (sports) event, to attract public attention to its own business by means of marketing activities related to the event, and thus to profit from the communication performance of the event (e.g. high profile, image) without making a financial contribution’.[30] In the corresponding footnote, the Bundeskartellamt makes reference to the definitions of ambush marketing on Wikipedia, which upon closer inspection is taken from Manuela Sachse’s book Negative Kommunikationseffekte von Sponsoring und Ambush-Marketing bei Sportgroßveranstaltungen. It is rather unfortunate that the Bundeskartellamt did not elaborate on why it chose this particular definition of ambush marketing.

Nonetheless, on the formal aspects, the Bundeskartellamt held that the DOSB’s pre-authorization scheme for individual advertisements was disproportionate, especially due to the deadlines. Moving to substantive aspects, it maintained that individual advertisement could only be prohibited if it violated specific legal provisions such as intellectual property rights or specific contractual obligations.[31] Violations of property rights ‘only exist in cases where the public perception is that there are economic and organisation relations between the owner of the property rights and the company which uses Olympic designations’, referring to the jurisprudence of the German Federal Court of Justice.[32] The Bundeskartellamt makes reference to the reasonably well-informed consumer standard, which is also recognized in EU law,[33] to explain that consumers are able to differentiate between ‘a sponsor’s advertising and a reference to the Olympic Games in a promotional context’ and that simply a positive association or temporal connection with the Olympic Games and Olympic Movement is not a violation of intellectual property rights.[34] In this regard, the Bundeskartellamt only found prohibiting the use of ‘Team Deutschland’ during the Olympic Games and the use of ‘a combination of the respective location and the year’, e.g. Rio 2016, during the frozen period to be proportionate, while finding the other restrictions to be disproportionate.[35] In terms of the restrictions on photos and social media posts, the Bundeskartellamt held that the general prohibition of taking photos at Olympic venues for individual advertising measures and posts on social media accounts that do not have any protected ‘designations or symbols’ to be disproportionate.[36]

Ultimately, the sanctions, in particular sporting sanctions, were judged to be disproportionate because of their potential impact on athletes’ careers, since they could affect the athletes existing and future sponsorship opportunities and a competition ban could also, depending on the athlete’s age and the ban’s length, end an athlete’s career. The very existence of sporting sanctions could have a ‘deterrent effect’.[37] Additionally, the CAS’ exclusive jurisdiction over disputes could jeopardize the effectiveness of competition law since ‘there is no guarantee that the parties’ action against an athlete will also be subject to judicial review under European antitrust law’, especially when considering that neither the Swiss or German courts would conduct such a review in an action against the enforcement of the award.[38]  Sports sanctions are also typically carried out by the sport bodies themselves, without intervention of public bodies. Interestingly, the Bundeskartellamt acknowledged the German athletes’ position that the CAS proceedings were longer and more costly than proceedings in front of German courts, which directly contradicts the IOC’s claimed benefits of sports arbitration.[39]

5        The Commitments and Potential for Further Intervention Under EU law

After two rounds of negotiations, the DOSB was able to put an end to its infringements by making several commitments that brought its policy on athlete advertisement into line with the Bundeskartellamt’s findings. The commitments submitted after the first round did not go far enough to quell the competition concerns and most sponsors and athletes found ‘little or no improvement in the modified guidelines’. The original commitments were deemed to be too restrictive on the protected Olympic related terms, not provide sufficient opportunities for advertising on social media, not sufficiently delineate the responsibilities of the different parties, and the exclusive jurisdiction of the CAS coupled with sporting sanctions continued to have ‘a strong deterrent effect’.[40] After the second round of negotiations, the most important  commitments included: (1) no more authorization required for advertisements during the frozen period and instead athletes can request that the DOSB review planned advertisements beforehand to confirm if it meets the admissibility criteria; (2) advertisement campaigns may now be launched during the frozen period; (3) pictures of athletes during Olympic competitions may be used for advertisement so long as it does not include protected Olympic logos, symbols or designations; (4) videos[41] are restricted only to the German House, the Olympic village or the back of house areas and (5) sports related sanctions are no longer available (only economic sanctions are possible) and athletes may have recourse to German courts. All in all, the new Guidelines will allow athletes to advertise during the Games provided that they observe certain restrictions that mainly relate to intellectual property rights.[42] This compromise fosters a far better balance between the IOC’s interests to protect the value of the Games and TOP and the athletes’ wish to expand their financial opportunities during perhaps the most important time of their careers.

The analysis undertaken by the Bundeskartelamt is likely to influence any future intervention of the European Commission on this issue. After all, it is quite possible that the Commission may have to take action since the Bundeskartellamt’s decision ‘is enforceable only as regards individual advertising and marketing activities of German Olympic athletes on the German market’. In doing so, the Commission may have to elaborate whether a pre-authorization scheme for advertisements with reasonable deadlines could be compatible with EU law and perhaps further scrutinize the definition of ambush marketing and potential objective justifications that are completely void of an economic motive. The Commission would likely evaluate any advertisement pre-authorization regime in light of the ISU criteria.[43] From a pure competition law perspective, it could also be an opportunity for the Commission and ultimately the CJEU to expressly confirm whether the Wouters test extends to Article 102 TFEU.

Regardless, Commissioner Verstager explained that this is ‘an example of the way the network operates, with the Commission and the German competition authority working closely together’. She also underlined that the Bundeskartellamt’s decision could ‘create incentives for a change of the relevant rules at national and international level, with the Commission following closely any developments in this direction’. Thus, the possibility that the Commission will at some point intervene seems dependent on how seriously the IOC takes this decision. In the meantime, British athletes have also threatened legal action on the basis of EU competition law against the British Olympic Association over its implementation of rule 40, which demonstrates the ongoing nature of this saga.

6        Conclusion

The Bundeskartellamt’s narrow interpretation of ambush marketing and emphasis on the protection of intellectual property rights will most likely influence the IOC’s strategy to protect the value of TOP. For example, it could prompt the IOC to place greater efforts into expanding its protected properties. Nevertheless, the IOC’s war against ambush marketing has widened from its original concept and even Michael Payne has been one to express his concern about the extent to which the IOC has gone in order to protect TOP and has expressed the need to apply the rules with ‘balance and common sense’. Albeit these comments were made concerning the rules for ‘clean’ venues at the London 2012 Summer Olympics, there is a certain resonance to the present situation and begs the question whether drastically restricting athletes in their often one-time chance to earn decent money through sponsoring is absolutely necessary to protect the economic viability of the Olympics as a whole.

[1] When the blog refers to rule 40, it refers specifically to bye law 3 of rule 40 OC.

[2] The ‘blackout’ period starts 9 days before the Olympic Game’s opening ceremony to 3 days after the closing ceremony.

[3] Nicholas Gary Schlereth and Evan Frederick, ‘Going for Gold: Social Media and the USOC’ [2017] 27 Journal of Legal Aspects of Sport 19.

[4] Michael Payne, ‘Ambush Marketing: The Undeserved Advantage’ [1998] 15 Psychology and Marketing 323.

[5] John Grady, ‘Analyzing Rule 40’s Restrictions on Using Atheletes in Olympic Sponsorship at Rio 2016’ [2017] 15 Entertainment and Sports Law Journal 1.

[6] Bundeskartellamt, Decision pursuant to Section 32b GWB Public version, B-226/17 (February 25, 2019) para 3.

[7] ibid para 5.

[8] ibid para 7.

[9] See ibid para 8 for examples.

[10] ibid para 11 and 65.

[11] Grady (n 7) and ibid para 69.

[12] Decision pursuant to Section 32b GWB Public version, B-226/17 (n 3) para 41.

[13] ibid para 44 and 56.

[14] ibid para 46-47.

[15] ibid para 46.

[16] ibid para 53.

[17] ibid para 54.

[18] ibid para 58-63.

[19] ibid para 71.

[20] ibid.

[21] ibid para 75-76.

[22] Case C-309/99 Wouters and Others [2002] ECLI:EU:C:2002:98, para 97.

[23] See Decision pursuant to Section 32b GWB Public version, B-226/17 (n 3) footnote 52.

[24] ibid para 102-105.

[25] See International Skating Union’s Eligibility rules (CASE AT. 40208) [2017] C(2017) 8240, footnote 350 and ibid para 95.

[26] Decision pursuant to Section 32b GWB Public version, B-226/17 (n 3) para 96.

[27] ibid para 27.

[28] For an exploration of accepted economic objectives see Sue Arrowsmith, ‘Rethinking the Approach to Economic Justifications under the EU's Free Movement Rules’ [2015] 69 Current Legal Problems 307.

[29] See for example, Case C-209/10 Post Danmark A/S v Konkurrencerådet [2012] ECLI:EU:C:2012:172, para 41-42.

[30] ibid para 97.

[31] ibid para 108-109.

[32] ibid para 110, referring to Federal Court of Justice, judgment of 15 May 2014 – I ZR 131/13, Olympia-Rabatt.

[33] Case C-210/96 Gut Springenheide and Tusky v Oberkreisdirektor des Kreises Steinfurt [1998] ECLI:EU:C:1998:369, para 31.

[34] Decision pursuant to Section 32b GWB Public version, B-226/17 (n 3) para 110-111.

[35] ibid para 115-118.

[36] ibid 119-120.

[37] ibid para 122.

[38] ibid para 124.

[39] ibid para 124.

[40] ibid para 128.

[41] Protected Olympic logos, symbols or designations are also not allowed in videos.

[42] Decision pursuant to Section 32b GWB Public version, B-226/17 (n 3) para 136-148.

[43] A pre-authorization scheme must (a) ‘provide for sanctions and authorization criteria that are inherent in the pursuit of legitimate objectives’, (b) ‘provide for objective, transparent and non-discriminatory sanctions and authorization criteria’ that are proportionate to its objectives, and (c) ‘provide for an objective, transparent and non-discriminatory procedure for the adoption and effective review of decisions’.

Introduction

A remarkable aspect of the run-up to the 2016 Rio Olympic Games was the stream of negative media reports portraying broad-scale public mistrust in sport, with the most prominent topic being the doping scandals in athletics and questions surrounding the participation of Russia.  

A different controversy, but one also directed at the credibility of sports, has exposed a few female Olympians to repeated, and at times rather intrusive, media scrutiny. In June 2016, it was reported that Indian track-and-field athlete Dutee Chand had qualified for the Rio Olympic Games by breaking the national record, thus to become the first Indian athlete to run the 100m at the Olympics since 1980. The attention that Dutee Chand’s qualification attracted within international media, however, was not related only to her outstanding results. It came as part of a medical, ethical and legal controversy that has existed for many years relating to ‘policing’ the male versus female divide in sports. Another athlete who has found herself in the midst of this controversy is South African runner Semenya Caster, whose participation in the Olympics has been the object of much conjecture.

The divide between male and female athletes forms the core of most sports’ competition rules, including athletics. The justification for this basic divide has rarely been questioned as such, but has been a matter for debate when it comes to handling atypical situations on both sides of the ‘dividing line’ ­ such as ‘transgender’ or ‘intersex’ athletes. A category of athletes that has, especially, been viewed as a challenge to the divide is composed of female athletes affected by ‘hyperandrogenism’, a health condition that results in naturally elevated androgen levels, including testosterone levels.

On 24 July 2015, a CAS panel rendered a decision involving Dutee Chand (“Dutee Chand” or “the Athlete”) that has fuelled the ongoing debate about the policies regulating hyperandrogenism in sport. Much has been reported in the media about the case: controversial issues include whether the CAS was the appropriate forum to assess these questions; whether the decision was appropriate, both on the merits and on the procedure; and what the consequences of the CAS award would be, for the parties, for athletics and for the sporting community at large.

Much like the current crisis surrounding doping in sports, the public attention on women with (proven or suspected) hyperandrogenism is driven by a concern that an athlete’s physiology – natural or artificially induced ­ could distort competition, destroying the ‘level playing field’ that supports the Olympic ideal. Both topics are also often brought back to the goal of protecting an athlete’s health. Parallels are further found in the strong reactions both topics evoke, and the steps taken by the regulating authorities to convince the public that everything in their power is being done to preserve a level playing field.

A less obvious but equally important point of comparison can be found in the issues both topics raise concerning the legal validity of decisions made by sports organizations, especially in a science-related context. This blog focuses on those more ‘legal’ aspects, through the prism of the decision of the CAS in the Dutee Chand matter and its legal implications. After touching briefly on the background of the case, we will comment on two aspects of the Chand award with respect to challenges in regulating hyperandrogenism in sport within the confines of the law: First from the viewpoint of a CAS panel called upon to evaluate the validity of a set of regulations, and second from the viewpoint of the sports organizations seeking to both adequately protect fairness in sport and to provide a legally valid (and effective) regulatory solution.[1]

Background of the Case

In 2014, Dutee Chand, an internationally successful, young track-and-field athlete, was provisionally suspended from participation in any athletic events by the Athletics Federation of India (the “AFI”),[2] as a result of a series of medical examinations that suggested her “male hormone” levels were elevated.[3] Dutee Chand filed an appeal against this decision to the CAS, naming both the AFI and the IAAF as respondents. She asked the CAS panel to (i) declare the Hyperandrogenism Regulations invalid, and (ii) overturn the AFI’s decision and clear her to compete. The second request for relief, however, was dropped during the course of the proceeding, thus the award addressed only the issue of the Regulation’s validity.

The IAAF Regulations Governing Eligibility of Females with Hyperandrogenism to Compete in Women’s Competition (“Hyperandrogenism Regulations” or “the Regulations”) govern the eligibility of female athletes with a condition known as ‘hyperandrogenism’ to participate in the female category of athletic events. Schematically, the Regulations provide that in order to be eligible to participate in the female category, a woman must have androgen levels below the “normal male range,” which is defined as testosterone levels falling below a threshold of 10 nmol/L.[4] An athlete with testosterone levels reported above this threshold may still be allowed to compete if she establishes, by a balance of probabilities, that she “derives no competitive advantage from having androgen levels in the normal male range”.[5] Cases of suspected hyperandrogenism may be investigated according to three levels of medical assessment, potentially including tests targeting physical, laboratory, genetic, imaging, and psychological assessments. Should an athlete be eventually diagnosed with hyperandrogenism, the stakes are high: in order to return to competition, athletes need to undergo medical treatment to reduce their testosterone levels below the ‘admissible’ threshold.

Dutee Chand challenged the Regulations’ validity on several grounds, which the CAS panel considered after addressing the parties’ respective burdens and standards of proof in an initial section. The grounds examined were unlawful discrimination, lack of scientific validity, breach of proportionality, and conflict with the World Anti-Doping Code (“WADC”).

Challenges CAS panels face in assessing the validity of sports regulations

The Chand award formidably illustrates the challenges an arbitration panel faces when asked to reach a conclusion on the ‘legal validity’ of a set of sports regulations, especially when such assessment implies delving into complex scientific issues. Each of these challenges can provide valuable ‘lessons learned’ for future CAS panels confronted with comparable issues.

Reconciling the ‘abstract’ and ‘concrete’ facets of the dispute

Ostensibly, the object of the CAS proceedings was for Dutee Chand to be cleared to resume competing as a female athlete, in other words, for the decision rendered against her by the AFI to be set aside[6]. But this ‘concrete’ request for relief was dropped at the hearing, leaving the panel with only the ‘abstract’ question of the Regulation’s validity to consider. It appears that the CAS panel was asked between the lines to render an informal advisory opinion on the legitimacy of the current approach to hyperandrogenism in sport; the formal advisory opinion is an instrument no longer available under the CAS Code.[7]

This left the CAS panel in an uncomfortable position: having to decide on abstract legal questions without the benefit of a concrete set of facts to rely upon. Symptomatically, the background presented in the award regarding the Athlete’s actual situation is tenuous. The award does not even discuss whether Dutee Chand’s testosterone levels actually exceeded the 10nmol/L threshold set in the Hyperandrogenism Regulations[8]. The CAS panel simply conducted its entire assessment under the - unverified - assumption of her being genuinely an athlete with hyperandrogenism within the meaning of the Regulations.

Moreover, real questions of defence strategy relevant to counsel appearing before CAS can be raised here: had Dutee Chand not waived her request for relief directed against the AFI decision, the CAS panel would have been forced to render a final award on her case and could not have left her in the legal limbo in which she is now (see below, on the rendering of an interim rather than a final award).

The CAS has often – explicitly or through the decision of its panels ­shown ambition to act as a harmonising body, an ‘international’ or ‘supreme’ court of sport.[9] From a perspective of sports policy, that may be – depending on the opinion – a desirable objective, or an illegitimate attempt for sports governing bodies to shield their regulations from the judicial review of state courts. From a strictly legal perspective, it is questionable whether CAS panels have at their disposal the means to fulfil this ambition. CAS panels are arbitration tribunals in arbitral proceedings conducted under Swiss arbitration law. As such, they only have the power to rule on a dispute brought before them by two – or more – specific parties, and they can only render decisions on requests for relief that a party has submitted to them, within the framework of the facts put forward by the parties. Approaches such as the one taken in the Chand award should not be encouraged, especially in this odd combination in which a CAS panel would accept to rule on abstract requests for relief that are not directly decisive to the outcome of the dispute.

Allocating the burden of proof to prove or disprove the Regulation’s validity

For reasons that are not readily apparent from the award, the CAS panel separated its assessment of the Regulations’ scientific basis into two limbs: i.) one referred to as an assessment of the ‘scientific validity’ of the Regulations, for which Dutee Chand was said to have accepted the burden of proof, and ii.) one referred to as a justification for the prima facie discrimination and considered part of the proportionality assessment, for which the IAAF was assigned the burden of proof[10]. For both limbs, the CAS panel ended up holding that the party bearing the burden of proof failed to discharge its burden, due to lack of sufficient scientific evidence.

The reasoning of the CAS panels in the award makes it rather obvious that the two limbs are conceptually one and the same: Both assess the question of whether the infringement upon female athletes’ rights entailed by the Regulations could be justified by a sufficiently strong scientific basis. Assigning the burden with respect to the general ‘scientific validity’ to Dutee Chand (i.e. the use of testosterone as a valid marker for purposes of the Regulations) and the burden with respect to another aspect of ‘scientific validity’ (i.e. the threshold set in the Regulations for that marker) to the IAAF (via the proportionality test), as the panel did, created an artificial separation in the legal analysis, by dressing the same issue in two different hats.

From the viewpoint of legal technique, this separation appears questionable and unnecessarily complicated. The assumption, from a viewpoint of judicial policy, is that the separation provided the arbitrators with an argument to both support the general thinking underpinning the Regulations (i.e. the use of testosterone levels as a marker) by considering that it was not without scientific basis, while at the same time finding the Regulations lacked sufficient strength in their modalities (i.e. the extent of the advantage conferred to hyperandrogenic athletes by their testosterone levels) to be upheld.

Differentiating between fact-finding and legal appreciation

Whether sports regulations have a sufficiently strong basis in science does not pertain to the fact-finding process, but to the CAS panel’s appreciation of the legal validity ­ or justification (including proportionality) ­ of those regulations. In this particular set-up, the question of ‘scientific validity’ is thus not strictly speaking one related to the burden of proof, as the Chand award would imply, but reflects which party suffers consequences if a CAS panel is not able to make sense of the scientific state-of-knowledge. The prospect of suffering adverse consequences indirectly provides an incentive for parties to present studies and expert opinions in support of their position, but does not qualify as a burden of proof stricto sensu, which only applies to issues of fact[11].

Nevertheless, the outcome of the CAS panel’s reasoning in the Chand matter appears justified: To the extent that the Hyperandrogenism Regulations represent an infringement on certain athletes’ rights (or, as the award considered it, in cases of discrimination), such infringement or discrimination has to be justified to be considered valid. In the case of the Hyperandrogenism Regulations, the alleged justification was based on the scientific basis behind the mechanics of the regulations. Thus, if no such basis could be shown, the CAS panel was bound to consider the Hyperandrogenism Regulations invalid. The CAS panel, in the particular matter, reached the same outcome by assigning the burden of proof on the issue it ultimately declared decisive to the IAAF, i.e. whether the manner in which testosterone was used as marker in the Regulations (especially the threshold value) could claim a sufficiently solid scientific basis.

Accounting for the role of scientific uncertainty

A truly important message to retain from the CAS award on scientific validity is the crucial role that ‘scientific uncertainty’ bears for the legal rule-making or adjudicative process. ‘Scientific uncertainty’ here refers to situations in which no consensus can be found within the scientific community, in which various expert positions coexist, or in which experts agree that the state-of-knowledge does not allow for a definitive answer. In all cases, the science is ‘unsettled’ in a manner that makes it impossible for the legal actors to extract a clear-cut finding that would suit their purposes. By nature, situations of ‘scientific uncertainty’ are the most likely to lead to legal disputes. CAS panels are frequently confronted with this constellation in doping matters or other science-related disputes brought before them.

The result of the panel’s assessment of the scientific foundations for the Regulations – whether desirable or not, justified or not – was hence utterly predictable. It was pre-determined from the moment the CAS panel decided that the IAAF would have the burden of proof on the very issue that would ultimately prove decisive for the outcome of a dispute. Allocating the burden of proof on a scientific issue amounts to assigning to one party (or one category of party) the risk of scientific uncertainty. Since disputed scientific issues are likely to result in the panel being unable to make up its mind one way or another, thus having to fall back on the burden of proof, the party that carries this risk of scientific uncertainty is almost certain to lose its case.

(Avoiding) reaching a legal conclusion on a highly sensitive issue

At the end of their analysis, the CAS arbitrators reached the conclusion that the IAAF had not discharged its burden of proof and that they were therefore unable to uphold the validity of the Hyperandrogenism Regulations based on the evidence before them[12]. The logical (and legal) consequence would have been for the panel to render a final award in accordance with these conclusions and grant the athlete’s request for relief. However, the panel took a different – and unusual ­ option, of issuing a decision they referred to as “interim award” instead.

One fails to see the rationale for such a decision. The approach may well be pragmatic, since it relieved (at least temporarily) the CAS panel of the need to make a final binding decision on a complex social and political issue, and allowed Dutee Chand to resume competition while at the same time providing a (provisional) framework for international athletic competitions with respect to participation of hyperandrogenic athletes.[13] However, issuing an “interim award” in this matter is not justifiable from the perspective of arbitration law. This is all the more true given that none of the parties appears to have requested the issuing of a preliminary decision in the proceedings, nor even to have contemplated this type of outcome. Its legitimacy under the CAS Code – which is conceived to guarantee an efficient procedural framework on CAS proceedings – is equally questionable. Moreover, the choice of issuing an ‘interim award’ has far-reaching legal and practical consequences for the dispute that further call into doubt the nature of Dutee Chand’s ‘victory’, including the following:

• The CAS proceeding number ‘CAS 2014/A/3759’ is not closed. The CAS panel remains formally constituted for the remainder of the two-year period assigned to the IAAF. If the IAAF does not submit further evidence, the CAS panels will need to make a final award taking note of such failure and drawing the consequences thereof, which could then be appealed before the Swiss Supreme Court;

• The “interim award” can only be appealed to the Swiss Supreme Court on very restrictive grounds under the Swiss Private International Law Act (Article 190, para. 3). Only an appeal for grounds of irregular composition of the tribunal or lack of jurisdiction could be filed, none of which would seem of relevance to the present matter. The other grounds for challenging an arbitral award – in particular the right to be heard or public policy – cannot be raised in an appeal against an interim award. This de facto bars the parties from appealing the award before the elapse of the two-year period; and

• The award does not acquire a res iudicata effect and cannot be enforced, though it binds the panel itself to its own determinations (as opposed to a mere procedural order).[14] Its effect for other athletes potentially concerned by decisions made under national regulations implemented to reflect the Hyperandrogenism Regulations is thus uncertain. In theory, but for the panel’s expectations that the IAAF will act based on the sport hierarchy, a national federation that was not a party to the dispute could still make a decision against an athlete.

While CAS panels may order further evidentiary measures on their own initiative and request a party to adduce further evidence, the CAS Code certainly does not envisage that a party could be given a period of two years to do so. Rendering an interim award in these circumstances could be considered to amount to a denial of justice, i.e. a refusal by the CAS panel to rule on the request for relief properly submitted to it. The time limit granted unilaterally, to one of the parties only, could also be seen as conflicting with equality of the parties.[15] Should the IAAF return with additional evidence during the two-year period, would Dutee Chand also be granted an equivalent time limit to respond to the evidence?

Challenges sports organisations face in navigating the interface between law and science

The debate surrounding the definition of male and female is a complex one, not only in sport but in various domains of society. This means that a sports organisation’s task of making policy decisions that adequately account for these complexities is far from straightforward.

Unlike former policies in sport, the manner in which the IAAF – and other sports federations based on the policy of the IOC – set out to deal with hyperandrogenism as of 2012 does not formally aim at defining an athlete’s sex. Hence, it does not represent a ‘gender or sex testing’ process stricto sensu. Instead, the CAS panel in the Dutee Chand case acknowledged that whether a person is to be considered ‘female’ from the viewpoint of participation in athletics relies on the criterion of whether a person is a female as a matter of law[16]. The Hyperandrogenism Regulations do not – at least not from a legal viewpoint ­ purport to decide whether someone is female or not. Ironically, this shift in approach that was to take away from sports authorities the controversial power to assign a ‘gender’ to an individual for purposes of taking part in its competitions is precisely what has brought those authorities into the dilemma of having to introduce corrective factors in the name of a level playing field.

Indeed, the Regulations seek to police a divide based on an issue of law (whether someone is a female ‘as a matter of law’) through a corrective factor that relies on a biological parameter, which is an issue of fact (the person’s level of testosterone); an approach that is bound to lead to a sense of unfairness in borderline situations. Undoubtedly, one major flaw in the system was that the corrective factor had the effect of excluding athletes from the category into which they fit as a matter of law, without offering them the option to compete in the category in which the corrective factor would place them. The IOC Medical & Scientific Commission statement subsequently issued (see below, in the concluding remarks) encourages a solution whereby legally female athletes who fail to meet the requirements of Hyperandrogenism Regulations would be authorized to compete in the male category. This solution would at least have the merits of removing this blatant inconsistency of the system. However, one can legitimately wonder if, de facto, it would not have the same effect of excluding hyperandrogenic women from elite competition entirely.

To entirely reframe the approach to sex categories in sport – without the mixture of legal and biological corrective factors chosen in the Hyperandrogenism Regulations – would suppose one of the following:

1. redefining the definition of ‘sex’ for purposes of sports categories based only on biological criteria, i.e. the level of testosterone or other biological factors deemed appropriate,
2. abandoning the use of corrective factors, and referring to an individual’s sex exclusively as a matter of law, or
3. abandoning any form of sports category related to sex and/or gender altogether.

It seems predictable that any of these options would imply some sort of compromise and entail new legal challenges. In particular, it is important to note that even if one should simply abandon any regulation on hyperandrogenism (or, more generally, on intersex matters), the question of how to legally define a ‘female’ would remain. In particular, the CAS panel in the Chand matter noted that whether someone is a male or female “is a matter of law”[17]. This immediately raises a follow-up question, namely: “what law?”. And, of equal importance, how does the applicable law approach this question? Options could range from self-identification to reliance on a complex set of scientific criteria, with each solution bringing its own challenges. Relying exclusively, as has been suggested[18], on the manner in which a person was raised and/or perceives him-/herself within society might prove difficult to crystallize into a firm legal criterion.

Even as sports regulations strives towards fairness and removing barriers to ‘pure’ competition, it must be recognized that the best that sports organizations can aim for in this context is to strike a reasonable balance between seeking a level playing field and celebrating natural advantages. On a deeper level, it also supposes a discussion as to how lawyers can and/or may make decisions that will profoundly affect individuals when science appears unable to provide the data needed to make sound legal choices.

Concluding remarks

Perhaps the most striking aspect of the Chand matter ­ as revealed by its aftermath ­ is the limited impact a CAS award addressing abstract legal issues can exert in practice.

The Chand award did not end the hyperandrogenism debate. In November 2015 – over four months after the Chand award was published ­ the IOC Medical & Scientific Commission, after holding a Consensus Meeting on Sex Reassignment and Hyperandrogenism, reaffirmed its position by insisting on the need to have rules in place “for the protection of women in sport and the promotion of the principles of fair competition”. The statement also encourages the IAAF, with support of other sports organizations, “to revert to CAS with arguments and evidence to support the reinstatement of its hyperandrogenism rules”. The IOC’s reaction to the interim award rendered shows that little progress was made in resolving the dispute over the validity of the Hyperandrogenism Regulations. As an only sign of a shift in its position, the statement recommends that “to avoid discrimination, if not eligible for female competition the Athlete should be eligible to compete in male competition”.[19] The new IOC position, which in effect represents a step towards considering the testosterone threshold as the only decisive criterion for determining the boundary between male and female athletes, immediately triggered critical reactions – both as to the modalities of its adoption and as to its contents – on part of circles close to Dutee Chand’s defence and opposed to regulations on hyperandrogenism.

Thus, the CAS award does not seem to have altered either camp’s position. This may be in part a side effect of the panel’s decision to opt for an interim award, but also demonstrates more generally the limitations on the power of law, regulatory bodies and judicial authorities to resolve disputes of such scientific and ethical dimension.

[1] For a more detailed analysis of the Chand award, see M Viret and E Wisnosky, Controlling “Femaleness” in Sports: Regulatory challenges at the intersection of health, performance and identity, in A Duval and A Rigozzi, eds., Yearbook of International Sports Arbitration, to be published.

[2] CAS 2014/A/3759, Dutee Chand v. AFI & IAAF, 24 July 2015.at [27]­[28]. As reported in the award, the text of the Decision Letter read in relevant part: “Based on your medical reports received from Sports Authority of India and a copy of the same has already been handed over to you by SAI in person, you are hereby provisionally stopped from participation in any Competition in athletics with immediate effect.

To be eligible for participation, you are further advised to follow the annexed IAAF guidelines”. [27]. Ms. Chand stated that the letter incorrectly enclosed the IAAF Sex Reassignment Regulations rather than the Hyperandrogenism Regulations [28].

[4] Hyperandrogenism Regulations, art. 6.5(i).

[5] Hyperandrogenism Regulations, art. 6.5(ii).

[6] Dutee Chand initially submitted two requests for relief, namely that a.) “[T]he Hyperandrogenism Regulation[s] be declared invalid and void; and, b.)[T]he Decision Letter [note: rendered by the AFI against Ms. Chand] be set aside and she be declared eligible to compete (Chand award at [104]).

[7] CAS’ consultation proceedings were abrogated in the 2012 review of the CAS Code.

[8] Chand award at [36]

[9] “The ‘Digest of CAS Awards 1986-1998’ recorded the emergence of a lex sportiva through the judicial decisions of the CAS. It is true that one of the interests of this court is to develop a jurisprudence that can be used as a reference by all the actors of world sport, thereby encouraging the harmonisation of the judicial rules and principles applied within the sports world.” (CAS Digest II, Reeb, p. xxix).

[10] A detailed analysis of the CAS panel’s reasoning can be found in Viret and Wisnosky 2016.

[11] For more details, see Viret and Wisnosky 2016, on the lack of clear distinction between issues of fact (which parties can agree upon) and issues of law, such as the burden and standard of proof and scientific validity (which is for a hearing panel to decide) in the Chand award.

[12] Chand award at [536].

[13] J Paulsson, Assessing the Usefulness and Legitimacy of CAS, SchiedsVZ 2015, pp. 263-269, p. 269.

[14] G Kaufmann-Kohler and A Rigozzi, International Arbitration: Law and Practice in Switzerland, Oxford University Press, Oxford 2015, paras 7.105-7.106.

[15] See Chand award at [442]. In particular, the Athlete accepted the burden of proof with respect to the “issue of scientific basis” of the Hyperandrogenism Regulations, a burden that the CAS panel considered had equally not been discharged.

[16] Chand award at [510]

[17] Chand award at [510].

[18] See e.g. M Genel, J L Simpson and A de la Chapelle, The Olympic Games and Athletic Sex Assignment, Journal of the American Medical Association, Published online August 04, 2016.

[19] IOC (2015) IOC Consensus Meeting on Sex Reassignment and Hyperandrogenism November 2015