I think we would all agree that the reputation of players’ agents, nowadays called intermediaries, has never been a good one for plenty of reasons. But the truth is their presence in the football industry is much needed and probably most of the transfers would never take place if these outcast members of the self-proclaimed football family were not there to ensure a fluid and smooth communication between all parties involved.

For us, sports lawyers, intermediaries are also important clients as they often need our advice to structure the deals in which they take part. One of the most recurrent situations faced by intermediaries and agents operating off-the-radar (i.e. not registered in any football association member of FIFA) is the risk of entering in a so-called multiparty or dual representation and the potential risks associated with such a situation.

The representation of the interests of multiple parties in football intermediation can take place for instance when the agent represents the selling club, the buying club and/or the player in the same transfer, or when the agent is remunerated by multiple parties, and in general when the agent incurs the risk of jeopardizing the trust deposited upon him/her by the principal. The situations are multiple and can manifest in different manners.

This article will briefly outline the regulatory framework regarding multiparty representation applicable to registered intermediaries. It will then focus on provisions of Swiss law and the identification of the limits of dual representation in the light of the CAS jurisprudence and some relevant decisions of the Swiss Federal Tribunal.

A)   Regulatory framework:

Those agents acting in the market as registered intermediaries will necessarily be subjected to the specific football regulations enacted by FIFA and the national associations in which they operate. The answer as to the possibility to represent more than one party to a deal will therefore, be necessarily found in internal rules of each association. 

As opposed to the obsolete FIFA Players’ Agent Regulations[1], the FIFA Regulations on Working with Intermediaries (RWWI) allow intermediaries to represent more than one party in a transaction. Pursuant to the definition of intermediary[2] in combination with Article 8 RWWI, the only substantive requirement to intermediaries willing to act for multiple parties is that they obtain prior written consent and confirmation in writing on which party (i.e. the player and/or the club) will remunerate the services of the intermediary. The regulations, therefore, prioritize transparency over the question of who pays for the services of the intermediary. Consequently, it is not forbidden for an intermediary to represent and be paid by multiple parties to a transaction, as long as they all know and agree to it in advance.  

At a national level, most FIFA member associations[3] have followed the solution adopted in the RWWI and have transposed ad literam the right of intermediaries to multiparty representation as long as the transparency and information requirements are met (i.e. any potential conflict of interest is disclosed to the parties in advance, and subject to the prior written consent of the parties to the transaction).

However, there are still many agents that prefer to operate off-the-radar of organized football and its regulations. For these ‘rogue’ agents, the scenario is different and the question of the legality of multiparty representation will ultimately depend on the applicable law chosen by the parties[4]. Based on my personal experience, off-the-radar agents often end up acting through very rudimentary authorizations subject to the ordinary jurisdiction of the CAS. For this reason, I chose to dissect in this paper the limits of multiparty representation according to Swiss law, for based on article XY of the CAS Code of Sports Arbitration it represents the applicable law to ordinary disputes before the CAS when parties fail to make a particular choice of law.

The provisions of the contract of brokerage (“contrat de courtage”) in Articles 412-418 of the Swiss Code of Obligations (CO) are of relevance in this regard. The cornerstone provision concerning conflict of interest is found in Article 415 CO[5] whose English translation reads as follows:

“Where the broker acts in the interests of a third party in breach of the contract or procures a promise of remuneration from such party in circumstances tantamount to bad faith, he forfeits his right to a fee and to any reimbursement of expenses”.

The article differentiates between two non-cumulative hypothetical situations where the broker (i.e. agent) may be in a position of conflict of interests.

• First: the broker “Acts in the interest of a third party in breach of the contract”.
• Second: the broker “Procures a promise of remuneration from such party in bad faith”.

The first hypothesis establishes the prohibition of the broker to act in the interest of a third party if the obligations towards his client are breached. Accordingly, an agent representing a player is prevented from assisting the players’ contracting club to negotiate the terms of his employment contract, as he would be defending irreconcilable interests (i.e. the interest of the club to pay the lowest salary possible v/ the interest of the player to obtain the highest possible salary). Conversely, the same agent could be hired by the club in a different transaction without incurring a conflict of interest with the player. The condition triggering this first hypothesis will be thus, whether the agent acting for the third party is in breach of his contractual obligations.

It is important to note that the published English translation of the CO differs slightly from the original text of the code[6]. While the English translation refers to the breach of the “contract”, the original French version refers instead to a breach of the “obligations” which has obviously a broader scope, covering a wider range of situations than a contract might include.

This linguistic difference can be misleading as the obligations emanating from the CO may go beyond the obligations set forth in a simple authorization or a brokerage contract. By way of example, think of a very simple “Authorization” that does not explicitly prohibit the agent of the player to simultaneously act for the club. Sticking to literal text of the English translation, one could be tempted to believe that the agent was not acting in breach of the contract. However, the same situation seen under the lens of the legal obligations would imply that the agent could still be infringing the obligation of loyalty and trust stemming from the CO.

In view of the above, a correct evaluation of the first hypothesis will necessarily account for the legal obligations inherent to the brokerage contract, the scope of which might go beyond the obligations stipulated in the contract. Amongst these, the obligation of loyalty, the obligation to safeguard the interest of the client by not entering into conflictive situations, and the obligation of transparency and information.

The second hypothesis covers the prohibition in Swiss law of dual representation by procuring a promise of payment from third parties to the relationship broker/principal, if such a promise amounts to bad faith.

It needs to be underlined that this provision does not exclude dual payment, but subjects it to a certain limit, i.e. not incurring in bad faith. Delineating bad faith can turn out to be a difficult task as the concept itself has an inevitable component of subjectivity and, as opposed to good faith which is legally presumed (cf. Article 3 of the Swiss Civil Code), bad faith must always be proven by the party claiming it, who ultimately bears the burden of proof[7]. 

Applied to football agents, it can be safely assumed that an agent acting in good faith towards his client would necessarily act in a transparent way and inform his client that he is simultaneously acting for the other contracting party. Not disclosing such information in the context of negotiations can serve as indication of bad faith when combined with other elements. However, to prove the presence of bad faith will still require sufficient material evidence in order to discharge the burden of proof, since the simple negligence of the broker would not be sufficient to fall under the scope of the article.

The consequence for a broker (i.e. football agent) infringing the prohibition of dual representation in he hypotheses described in article 415 CO is the nullity of the contract and the forfeiture of the right to be remunerated, or the obligation to reimburse the amounts received if the infringement is ascertained after the realization of the contract and payment of the fee (“quod nullum est nullum producit effectum”).  

With the above premises in mind, a detailed look into the CAS and the Swiss Federal Tribunal jurisprudence regarding Article 415 CO will help identifying the scope of the legal obligations of a football agent towards his client (i.e. club and/or player), as well as the mechanisms used by the decision-making bodies to determine the existence of bad faith.

B)   Jurisprudence:

One of the very few CAS cases dealing with Article 415 CO in the context of football agents' relationships with clubs is the CAS award  2012/A/2988 PFC CSKA Sofia v. Loic Bensaid.

In short, the dispute opposed the flagship Bulgarian football club CSKA Sofia against a French football agent and revolved around the right of the latter to be remunerated by the club, considering he had acted simultaneously in representation of the player in the signature of the employment contract.

One of the many arguments used by the club in support of its alleged right not to pay the agent was based on Article 415 CO. The club asserted that the agent acted in violation of his obligations for having represented both parties. On the merits, the Sole Arbitrator concluded, nevertheless, that the agent had fulfilled the obligations of transparency and information as the Club was aware at all times that the agent also acted for the player and knew about the existence of the representation contract with the player[8]. The full knowledge and acceptance of the situation impeded the club to contend, at a later stage, the violation of the duty of loyalty and transparency.

Secondly, adhering to the grounds of the supporting FIFA decision, the Sole Arbitrator also remarked that the mandate between the Agent and the player did not contain any obligation to remunerate the services of the agent. The prohibition of agents to be remunerated twice for their services has been traditionally a key element in previous FIFA decisions where dual representation was at the center of the dispute[9]. This fact possibly led the Sole Arbitrator to also highlight this circumstance when assessing the behavior of the agent. However, the Sole Arbitrator further stated that, even if the mandate would have provided for a remuneration in favor of the agent (quod non), Article 415 CO would still not have been violated as the club failed to discharge the burden of proof as to the existence of bad faith, reinforcing with it that dual representation is only forbidden to the extent the agent acts in bad faith[10].

This final remark of the Sole Arbitrator is crucial as it evidences, in my view, that whether the player and the agent agreed upon a remuneration, remains in the end irrelevant for the evaluation of a possible violation of Article 415 CO. Indeed, pursuant to the CAS arbitrator’s interpretation of the article, the agent can be remunerated twice, as it is the disregard of the obligations inherent to the contract and in particular for the second hypothesis acting in bad faith that determines compliance with Article 415 CO.

To better illustrate the irrelevance of the “double remuneration” discussion, think for a moment of a brokerage contract where there is no explicit reference to the remuneration. Does such a lacuna in the contract imply that the brokerage is necessarily, pro bono? The answer is no, for as a general rule, mandates given in the context of professional relationships are presumed to be lucrative (see Art. 394(3) CO). That is precisely the case of football agents when they contract with players or clubs. This circumstance renders the reference to a remuneration in the contract a secondary element, or at least not an essential one. The former FIFA PAR (Ed. 2008[11]) followed this ratio legis when explicitly providing for a default remuneration of 3% of the players’ basic income where the parties cannot agree on the remuneration.

Beyond the specific CAS awards, some decisions of the Swiss Tribunal Federal help getting the full perspective on dual representation in the context of disputes subject to Swiss law. Although these do not refer to football agents, the similarities that exist with real estate and/or corporate brokers allow to derive important conclusions that can be applied to football agents.

A first decision worth mentioning is no. 4A_214/2014 of 15 December 2014. The case concerned a classic real estate intermediation where the agent agreed a commission from both the seller and the buyer involved in the transaction. The agent also failed to inform the seller of the existence of a better buying offer from a third potential buyer. In this context, after concluding the deal, the buyer refused to pay the agent, invoking Article 415 CO.

This case is important because it reveals the existence of two types of brokerage contracts under Swiss law (i.e. “courtage de negotiation” and the “courtage d’indication”). Whereas in a brokerage of negotiation the broker is entrusted by his client to negotiate the conditions of the transaction, in a brokerage of indication, the broker is simply called to indicate the possibility to conclude a transaction, with no negotiation duties involved. Furthermore, according to the doctrine cited in the decision, both types of contract are treated differently under Article 415 CO.

In casu, the Federal Tribunal qualified the contracts signed by the agent with the buyer and the seller as “courtage de negotiation” as he was entrusted with conducting all aspects related to the transaction. The agent was required to obtain the best possible conditions for his clients (e.g. the best buying and selling price respectively) and this circumstance directly generated an irremediable conflict of interest (i.e. the negotiation was either benefitting the financial interests of seller or the buyer) infringing the obligation of loyalty inherent to the brokerage contracts with the parties.

All in all, the Federal Tribunal rejected the appeal submitted by the real estate agent and confirmed the nullity of both contracts for violating Article 415 CO. The Federal Tribunal followed a strict interpretation of Article 415 CO according to which “no one can serve two masters” and thus, dual representation would only be possible (if so) in simple intermediations where no negotiation from the broker is required[12], in other words in “courtage d’indication”. In addition, in this case the agent also acted in bad faith for failing to disclose the existence of a more favorable offer to the detriment of the seller.

The main lesson that can be learnt from this decision is that Article 415 CO must be interpreted restrictively and that it has to be distinguished between those intermediation contracts that imply an active involvement of the agent (i.e. the agent is contractually required to negotiate the terms of a transaction for the player and/or the club) and those contracts of intermediation where the agent is called to simply indicate the possible opportunity for his client to conclude a deal with no other involvement in the transaction. In this last case, dual representation could be allowed for there would be no conflict of interests, and therefore, no infringement of the obligations under the brokerage contract. The specific contractual clauses are therefore crucial as they ultimately reveal the extent of the role assumed by the agent.

The second important decision by the SFT is more recent, no. 4A_529/2015 of 4 March 2016. The factual background of this dispute is extremely complex. In brief, the case revolved around the selling and buying of the shares of a company exploiting a luxurious Hotel located in Switzerland. The seller and the broker entered into a negotiation brokerage contract whereby the latter was entrusted to find a buyer of the company against the payment of remuneration. The principal had to agree with the final potential buyer. In the end, it was proved that the broker misled the principal about the true identity of the final buyer (to whom the principal expressly refused to sell), with whom the broker had also agreed remuneration. On the basis of these facts, the principal refused to pay the broker. 

The Federal Tribunal confirmed again that Article 415 CO is always interpreted strictly, and considered that by allowing the banned buyer to indirectly acquire the company, the broker acted in the interest of a third party against the obligation of loyalty. What is most significant about this decision is that the court delimitates very clearly the scope of the obligation of loyalty. It is described as a double-edged sword, implying on the one side: a positive obligation consisting of actively safeguarding and defending the interest of the principal; and on the other side: a negative obligation, consisting of abstaining from any conduct that could harm the interests of the client.  

In particular, the fact that the principal had not objected to a previous e-mail sent by the broker where he expressly indicated that the potential buyer was “C or any company indicated by it” was also irrelevant for the principal could not expect in ‘good faith’ that the buyer would make use of this substitution prerogative in favor of the real buyer. The arguments of the broker according to which it was not important for the principal to know who the buyer was and that he suffered no damage, were also dismissed.   

Finally, the argument of the broker according to which the remuneration to be received from the buyer was agreed after the transaction took place was also irrelevant in the eyes of the court.

With these cases in mind, when applying the holding of the SFT above to football agents' professional relationships, it follows that the scope of the obligation of loyalty will be significantly wider for football agents entrusted with negotiations than for agents simply tasked with identifying possible opportunities to close a deal.

Likewise, in order to determine the existence of a violation of the obligations assumed by the agent, it will not be enough to demonstrate that there has been no threat to the interests of the client or that the agent has not actively engaged in a conduct against those interests. Indeed, a simple passive conduct with the potential of jeopardizing the interests of the principal, such as failing to disclose relevant information, can be sufficient to violate the obligation of loyalty and deprive the agent from the right to be remunerated.

To this effect, the correct identification of the interest pursued by the client will ultimately determine the infringement by the agent of his obligations under the representation contract. In the end, the agent will only violate his obligation of loyalty as long as his behavior damages the interests of his client. These interests will vary depending on whether the principal is a football club or a player. If a club is trying to transfer or recruit a player, the interests will in most cases be of a financial nature. If instead, the principal is a football player terminating or signing a contract with a club, he might have non-economic interests (e.g. willing to play in a different championship, lack of integration of the family in the country etc.). Furthermore, the moment in which the remuneration is agreed is not relevant to establish the violation of the obligation of loyalty.

In conclusion, the contract of representation and its clauses in combination with the particular circumstances of each case will be fundamental to establish compliance with Article 415 CO when multiple representation takes place.   Football agents pretending to be remunerated by both contracting parties simultaneously without risking to violate their obligations must either enter into simple brokerage contracts with no negotiation attributions, or, when acting through a negotiation brokerage, always inform all parties in complete transparency. 

[1] See Article 19.8 FIFA PAR.

[2] “Definition of an intermediary

A natural or legal person who, for a fee or free of charge, represents players and/or clubs in negotiations with a view to concluding an employment contract or represents clubs in negotiations with a view to concluding a transfer agreement.” [Emphasis added]

[3] Only the FFF (France), the RFU (RUSSIA), the BFU (Bulgaria) the JFA (Japan) have explicitly adopted stricter rules prohibiting any conflict of interest. See Comparative Table of “The FIFA Regulations on Working with Intermediaries Implementation at a national level” (Ed. Michele Colucci).

[4] E.g. Arbitrage TAS 2007/O/1310 Bruno Heiderscheid c. Franck Ribéry.

[5] See article R45 of the CAS Code (ed. 2017).

[6] Art. 415. III. Déchéance:

“Le courtier perd son droit au salaire et au remboursement de ses dépenses, s'il agit dans l'intérêt du tiers contractant au mépris de ses obligations, ou s'il se fait promettre par lui une rémunération dans des circonstances où les règles de la bonne foi s'y opposaient.”

https://www.admin.ch/opc/fr/classified-compilation/19110009/index.html

[7] See. Decision of the SFT 131 III 511 para. 3.2.2 of  http://relevancy.bger.ch/php/clir/http/index.php?highlight_docid=atf%3A%2F%2F131-III-511%3Ade&lang=de&type=show_document

[8] See para. 118.

[9] E.g. Decision of the Single Judge of the PSC of 12 January 2012: “12. In view of the above, the Single Judge formed the view that, although the Claimant appears to have represented the Respondent and the player in the same transaction, the documentary evidence contained in the file clearly demonstrates that the Claimant could not have possibly been remunerated twice for his services. Consequently, and in accordance with the general principles of bona fide and pacta sunt servanda the Single Judge decided that the Respondent must fulfill the obligation it voluntarily entered into with the Claimant by means of the representation agreement concluded between the parties, and therefore, the Respondent must pay the Claimant for the services he rendered in connection with the transfer of the player to the Respondent.”

[10] See also para. 118.

[11] See i.c. article 20 para. 4 FIFA PAR (ed. 2008).

[12] See para. 1.1.3 of the SFT decision. An example of a courtage d’indication would be the brokerage of insurances, where the broker, acting for the policy-holder, is paid instead, by the insurance company.

On 23 October 2020, a panel of the Court of Arbitration for Sport (‘CAS’) rendered an award in the matter opposing Mr Blake Leeper (‘Mr Leeper’ or ‘the Athlete’) to the International Association of Athletics Federation (‘IAAF’).[1] The CAS panel was asked to make a ruling on the validity of the IAAF rule that places on a disabled athlete the burden to prove that a mechanical aid used to compete in IAAF-sanctioned competitions does not give such athlete an overall competitive advantage.

The award is remarkable in that it declared the shift of the burden of proof on the athlete invalid, and reworded the rule so that the burden is shifted back on the IAAF to show the existence of a competitive advantage. Thus, while the IAAF won its case against Blake Leeper as the panel found that the sport governing body had discharged its burden in casu, the outcome can be viewed as a victory for disabled athletes looking to participate in IAAF-sanctioned events. It remains to be seen how this victory will play out in practice. Beyond the immediate issue at stake, the case further presents an illustration of how – all things equal – assigning the burden of proof can be decisive for the real-life impact of a policy involving complex scientific matters, as much as the actual legal prerequisites of the underlying rules.

This article focuses on some key aspects of the award that relate to proof issues in the context of assessing competitive advantage. Specifically, the article seeks to provide some food for thought regarding burden and degree of proof of an overall advantage, the contours of the test of ‘overall advantage’ designed by the CAS panel and its possible bearing in practice, and potential impact of the ruling on other areas of sports regulations such as anti-doping.

The award also analyses broader questions regarding the prohibition of discrimination in the regulation of sports, as well as the interplay with international human rights instruments such as the European Convention on Human Rights (‘ECHR���), which are not explored in depth here.

1. Some background: from Pistorius to Leeper

In 2008 already, a CAS panel was asked to look into the requirements for participation of disabled athletes using mechanical aids in IAAF-sanctioned events. Oskar Pistorius, a bilateral amputee and track runner using a carbon fibre prosthesis, claimed the right to compete in IAAF track events along ‘able-bodied’ athletes. The IAAF refused his participation, relying on a newly introduced rule prohibiting use of technical devices that give an athlete an advantage over other competitors, more specifically:

“Use of any technical device that incorporates springs, wheels or any other element that provides the user with an advantage over another athlete not using such a device” (IAAF Competition Rule 144.2(e), at the time).[2]

As a result, Oskar Pistorius brought the matter before CAS. Though the rule contained no explicit allocation of the burden of proof, it was common ground among the parties that the burden of proof was on the IAAF to prove the existence of an ‘advantage’.[3] As regards the standard of proof, the CAS panel determined that it would apply the ‘balance of probabilities’ standard, since it did not regard the issue as a disciplinary one that would mandate a higher standard, such as ‘comfortable satisfaction’.[4] Though Pistorius underwent a series of performance tests supervised by the Sports University in Cologne, Germany, the CAS panel deemed the scientific evidence produced inconclusive. Specifically, to the panel, the evidence did not allow for a sufficiently robust conclusion that Pistorius enjoyed an overall net advantage over able-bodied competitors. Thus, Pistorius should not be prevented from competing at IAAF-sanctioned events.

Shortly after the Pistorius award, the IAAF amended its Competition Rules with a view to having the burden of proof shifted to the athlete claiming the right to compete with mechanical aids. Since then, the rule – in its version still applicable in the Leeper matter (the rule is enshrined today in the World Athletics Technical Rules, Rule 6.3.4) – has provided that receiving assistance during an event is not allowed, including:

“The use of any mechanical aid, unless the athlete can establish on the balance of probabilities that the use of an aid would not provide him with an overall competitive advantage over an athlete not using such aid” (Rule 144.3(d); emphasis added).

That shift of burden quickly showed very tangible effects. In 2016, Markus Rehm, a German long jumper and single-leg amputee, using the same type of prosthesis, set out on an attempt to achieve qualification for the Rio Olympic Games. Studies were again conducted at the Sports University in Cologne that had already produced the expert report for Oskar Pistorius. The research conclusions were that it was impossible to tell with certainty whether the prosthesis conferred Markus Rehm an overall advantage in long jump. However, due to the regulatory amendment, this inconclusiveness now weighed against the athlete. After an IAAF June 2016 meeting in which no vote was finally declared on the issue, IAAF President Sebastian Coe commented: “Rehm still has to prove that the prosthetic doesn’t give him an unfair advantage and he has not been able to show that”.

To the best of the author’s knowledge, Markus Rehm never took formal legal action against the sports authorities and finally renounced seeking a selection to the Rio Olympic Games. The discussion announced in Summer 2016 with the IAAF never appears to have produced outcomes either, so that the new version of the rules and its effects had not been subject to the scrutiny of a judicial body so far.

More than ten years after Oskar Pistorius obtained the right to compete under the former IAAF rules, Blake Leeper – a bilateral amputee track runner specialising in the 400m - applied in July 2019 to the IAAF for a ruling that the prothesis he uses in pursuit of his qualification for the 2020 Olympic Games is allowable under IAAF Rule 144.3(d).[5] In February 2019, after various exchanges between the parties and upon Mr Leeper submitting the results of various tests, the IAAF denied his application.[6] Mr Leeper appealed the IAAF decision to the CAS.

2.     The reasoning of the CAS panel in the Blake Leeper award

In its analysis of Blake Leeper’s case, the CAS panel proceeded in three steps:

• i.) determining the proper construction of IAAF Rule 144.3(d);
• ii.) assessing validity and lawfulness of the provision that imposes the burden on the athlete to establish absence of an overall competitive advantage; and
• iii.) considering the findings on the previous points, deciding whether Mr Leeper should in casu be entitled to compete at IAAF-sanctioned events using his prosthesis.[7]

In short, after defining an appropriate ‘test’ for presence (or absence) of an overall competitive advantage, the CAS panel found that it was not admissible for the rule to place on the athlete the burden to establish the factual prerequisites for such test. The CAS panel then reworded the rule by ‘deleting’ the parts related to the burden of proof, thus in effect shifting back the burden to the IAAF as per the former version of the rule applicable in the Pistorius matter. Nevertheless, considering the evidence on the record, the CAS panel found that in the particular matter the IAAF had met such burden, so that Mr Leeper could not be allowed to compete at IAAF-sanctioned events with his current prostheses.

The main legal issue at stake in the award was the validity of a provision that places the burden on the athlete to establish an absence of overall advantage achieved through the use of a mechanical aid.

The award contains some noteworthy reasoning regarding the parties’ respective burden of proof with respect to the general validity of rules enshrined in sports regulations. The CAS panel proceeded along the lines adopted in previous cases in which a discrimination was invoked: referring explicitly to the proceedings involving Dutee Chand and Semenya Caster,[8] the panel described the analysis as a two-step one:

• i.) “the party seeking to challenge an allegedly discriminatory regulation bears the burden of the establishing that the rule discriminates on the basis of a protected ground”;
• ii.) if so: “the burden of proof shifted to the IAAF to establish that the regulation was necessary, reasonable and proportionate”.[9]

Regarding the rule at stake, the panel found that, while “neutral on its face (in the sense that it applies to all athletes equally and irrespective of any disability), the practical effect of the Rules is likely to be significantly greater for disabled athletes than able-bodied athletes.”[10] Thus, the rule was characterised as “indirectly discriminatory”,[11] so that the panel proceeded to assess whether the IAAF had demonstrated that the provision on the burden of proof pursues a legitimate objective and is proportionate. Turning to this central issue, the CAS panels analysed the following elements:

In a first step, the CAS panel supported the argument whereby

“an international sports governing body such as the IAAF is legitimately entitled to take the view that fairness requires that the outcome of competitive athletics should be determined by natural physical talent, training and effort, and that athletes should not  be able to use artificial technology during competitions in a way that provides them with an overall advantage over athletes who are not using such technology. The Panel considers that this is particularly so where (as here) the mechanical aid is one that most athletes would not, in practice, be able to utilise” (emphasis added).[12]

On the other hand, the panel declared itself mindful that disabled athlete such as Blake Leeper would be “unable to participate at all in IAAF-sanctioned events in circumstances that would enable their results to be ranked alongside their fellow able-bodied competitors. A rule which was specifically designed to prevent disabled athletes from competing in IAAF-sanctioned events could not be said to pursue a legitimate interest” (emphasis in the award).

While deploring that the IAAF seemed to have given little weight to facilitating participation of disabled athletes (“it is apparent to the Panel that the rights and legitimate interests of disabled athletes were, at best, a secondary consideration in the IAAF’s regulatory decision-making”),[13] the arbitrators declared themselves nevertheless satisfied on balance that the rule was intended to pursue the legitimate objective of ensuring the fairness and integrity of competitive athletics.

On the issue of proportionality, the panel started by acknowledging that there is a potential at least that prosthetic aid could enable disabled athletes to run faster than if they had fully intact biological legs. The panel then reviewed the arguments specifically put forward by the IAAF:

• i.) The first principled argument was that an exception to the ‘normal’ eligibility requirements justifies placing a burden on athletes to establish “granting the exception sought will not undermine the objectives on which that rules is based”.[14] The CAS panel refused the analogy claimed by the IAAF to the ‘precautionary principle’, but accepted that there was a valid analogy to some extent to the TUE regime, with the reservation that TUE regulations were not designed specifically with disabled athletes in mind, and thus there was nothing to suggest that the TUE regulations have any disparate impact upon disabled athletes;
• ii.) The second argument, of a practical nature, was that athletes are in a better position to provide the evidence regarding any advantages and disadvantages they derive from the use of the mechanical aid. The panel did not consider this argument “a particularly persuasive reason”,[15] given that the IAAF could obtain at least evidence regarding performance in competitive races, and an athlete who would refuse without justification to give data to the IAAF could see adverse inferences drawn against him or her.

The panel continued that there were, on the other hand, a number of factors pleading against the burden of proof provision being a proportionate solution; most notably, the “onerous practical burden” that the rule imposes upon disabled athletes:

“Such an individual is required, in effect, to prove a negative: namely, that they derive no overall competitive advantage from having prosthetic rather than biological limbs. As the materials presented by the parties in this appeal amply demonstrates, the factual and scientific enquiries necessarily entailed by that requirement are multifaceted and complex”.[16]

In addition, the CAS panel emphasised that the IAAF failed to provide for a “clear, accessible and structured process that must be followed” by the disabled athletes to obtain a determination on their participation.[17] Finally, the panel considered that “when dealing with a rule that has a substantial disparate impact on disabled athletes, it is neither necessary nor proportionate for any doubt to be resolved against the disabled athlete”.[18]

Based on the reasons stated above, the panel concluded that the rule was to be declared unlawful and invalid with respect to its allocation of the burden of proof. As a result, the CAS panel declared the part-provision of the rule related to the burden of proof to be “deemed deleted”,[19] rewording the rule as unauthorised assistance including

“The use of any mechanical aid, unless [text deleted] on the balance of probabilities [text deleted] the use of an aid would not provide them with an overall competitive advantage over an athlete not using such an aid”.[20]

While this article does not further elaborate on the discrimination question, it is noteworthy that back in 2008, the panel in the Oskar Pistorius matter dismissed the athlete’s argument of unlawful discrimination after a summary assessment, based on the fact that: “disability laws only require that an athlete such as Mr Pistorius be permitted to compete on the same footing as others”, adding that the issue before the panel was precisely to decide whether the athlete was competing on an equal basis using his prostheses.[21] The panel in Pistorius thus focused almost entirely on whether Pistorius, in casu, met the requirements set up by the rule in place, without questioning the rule itself. The fact that a legal submission which could be dismissed in a few paragraphs as barely relevant in 2008 was considered worthy of an in-depth discussion spanning several pages in 2020 does point to a heightened awareness of issues of discrimination and willingness of CAS panels to deal with these issues, which represents an encouraging signal for the sports community and advocates of human rights in sports.

3.     Defining the proper test for an ‘overall advantage’

The panel spent considerable time on the interpretation of IAAF Rule 144.3, pondering on the appropriate test for evaluating an overall performance advantage, especially ‘who’ and ‘what’ to use as a comparator for the athlete’s performance. The panel considered that this determination must be guided by the “overarching object and purpose of the Rule, and by the need to ensure that the Rule is not interpreted in a way that gives rise to consequences which are absurd or unworkable”.[22]

The panel thus stressed that it would lead to absurd results to use as a comparator either only the very best abled-bodied athletes in the world, or the disabled athlete himself without his mechanical aids. It would be equally unworkable, according to the panel, to look at the likely performance of a different (real or hypothetical) able-bodied athlete, “unless there was a principled, objective and consistent basis for determining the identity/attributes of that able-bodied comparator”.[23]

Having considered and rejected other constructions, the CAS panel concluded that

“The only logical, principled and workable construction of the Rule is one that, in the case of disabled athletes who use a mechanical aid to overcome a disability, requires a comparison to be undertaken between the athlete’s likely athletic performance when using the mechanical aid and their likely athletic performance had they not had the disability which necessitates the use of that aid”.[24]

“A disabled athlete who uses a mechanical aid which does no more than offset the disadvantage caused by their disability cannot be said to have an “overall competitive advantage” over a non-disabled athlete who is not using such an aid”.[25]

The test thus differs from the one conducted by the CAS panel in the Pistorius matter, that sought to identify whether the device gave Oskar Pistorius an advantage “over other athlete not using the device”.[26] In the case of Pistorius, actual comparative tests had been performed by Cologne using a control group of able-bodied athletes, and in fact the wording of the rule at the time explicitly referred to comparison to “another athlete not using such a device” (emphasis added, see Section 2 above). These selection of this control group was not assessed in detail in the Pistorius award, possibly because the panel found that the scientific experts had not been asked by the IAAF to assess the relevant question, i.e. whether the athlete enjoyed an ‘overall net advantage’ – including all advantage and disadvantages – over able-bodied athletes.

Though possibly the most ‘pragmatic’ interpretation of the rule and one adapted to the specificities of the case, the construction chosen by the panel in the Leeper award creates a standard for mechanical aids that is very focused on the situation of disabled athletes, and which will have to be further exemplified and circumscribed in future. The panel did insist that there is an “obvious desirability of a rule that is specifically tailored to the use of prosthetic aids by athletes”,[27] and criticized the IAAF’s choice “to shoehorn such athletes into a wider rule concerned with the use of mechanical aids in general”.[28] In a press release following the award, the IAAF (newly, World Athletics) took note of the panel’s findings and announced that it will work on reviewing its rules.

In fact, a redrafting would be desirable just from a perspective of legal predictability and regulatory technique. The rule as reworded through deletion by the CAS panel remains unsatisfactory in its design: the rule sets positive prerequisites (‘use of a mechanical aid’), and a negative prerequisite (‘unless no overall competitive advantage exists’). Negative prerequisites of this kind are generally interpreted as signifying an exception to the general rule, meaning that the burden of proof is on the party seeking to claim the benefit of such exception.[29] A good illustration is the way CAS panels have placed the burden on the athlete to show ‘compelling justification’ for refusing to submit to testing in anti-doping matters, even in the absence of an explicit attribution of burden of proof, simply based on the rule’s structure.[30] Redrafting the rule in such manner that its construction positively shows that the burden is on the sports governing body to show the presence of an overall advantage would almost inevitably suppose a separate rule to be created for mechanical aid used by disabled athletes.

Another difficulty is that the test as designed by the CAS panel results in a comparison that is in essence hypothetical – if not metaphysical –, and may thus prove difficult to translate into scientific terms amenable to testing: unlike studies that can actually measure performance against other ‘real’ competitors, there is no straightforward empirical way to compare an athlete with his fictional able-bodied ‘self’. In fact, in the case of Blake Leeper, the analysis conducted proved a largely non-empirical one and was facilitated by the panel choosing a single criterion (i.e. running height) that required no empirical assessment of performance on the track (see Section 5 below).

Beyond the technical issues above, it is hard to imagine how the test proposed by the CAS panel could find application to other instances of mechanical aids. ‘Disadvantages’ that originate in natural physical traits are commonplace among athletes (some may be at a natural disadvantage due to their smaller-than-average size, due to their body proportions, due to their muscle fibres or cardiovascular characteristics, etc.). It would seem unimaginable that mechanical aids be in future declared admissible as long as they just compensate such physical ‘disadvantage’ that an athlete would have compared to an average opponent.

The CAS panel in the Pistorius matter had insisted that “disability laws only require that an athlete such as Mr Pistorius be permitted to compete on the same footing as others”.[31] One may wonder whether the panel in Leeper did not implicitly go a step beyond that objective: insofar as it defines the same (fictional) athlete himself, without the disadvantage derived from his disability, as the upper benchmark to limit performance enhancement through mechanical aid, the panel’s reasoning amounts to creating a right to compensate for natural disadvantages that able-bodied athletes do not enjoy.

This position presupposes in addition the existence of a difference of nature between a normal ‘below average’ athlete on the one hand, and an athlete with a disability or other physical condition, on the other hand. In this respect also, the scope of the panel’s ruling would have to be better defined. In particular, the panel never went into the category of the ‘disabled athlete’ who should benefit from the right to offset their disadvantage in comparison to their hypothetical able-bodied self. Should only athletes who fulfil the conditions of an ‘Eligible Impairment’ for purposes of participation in Paralympic sports – including Paralympic Athletics – be authorised to compensate their disadvantage? Should certain other, non-eligible impairments and medical conditions also qualify, and according to what criteria? There will inevitably be value judgements involved in distinguishing between a disadvantage that represents a genuine disability creating a right to compensation, versus a disadvantage that results merely in a sub-standard physical ability that is part of an individual’s characteristics and which simply makes the athlete ill-suited for (specific) sports.

4.     Expectations on the scientific evidence to assess the overall advantage

Various arguments discussed by the panel demonstrate sympathy for disabled athletes, including recognition of the insurmountable hurdle that a burden of proof on scientific issues may constitute for such athletes. The panel took the view that an athlete could not be reasonably expected to carry such a heavy burden. These expressions of sympathy could be of relevance for cases in other areas of sports regulations, highlighted in Section 6 below.

Predictably, in all but the exceptional case, the outcome of studies would result in an inconclusive state of evidence. In this constellation, the burden of proof becomes the main – if not the sole – determinant of the outcome: it decides which party carries the risk of scientific uncertainty. In certain situations, what is formally a rebuttable presumption may thus turn de facto into an irrebuttable one.[32]

As mentioned (see Section 2 above), in both the case of Oskar Pistorius and Markus Rehm, studies of the athlete’s performances did not allow for a clear-cut conclusion. The two cases were fairly similar in terms of scientific assessment. The difference was a purely legal one, namely: under the new version of the rule enacted by the IAAF and applied to Markus Rehm, an inconclusive state of scientific evidence had to lead to decide against the athlete’s participation.[33]

In the matter of Blake Leeper, the panel reversed the effects of the amendment made by the IAAF after the Pistorius award: this means that disabled athlete are now admitted to participate in IAAF-sanctioned events with mechanical aids, in all but the exceptional situation in which the scientific evidence could clearly show an overall advantage.

The perhaps most surprising element of the case is that the Leeper matter turned out to be one of these ‘exceptional’ cases, and the manner in which the CAS panel reached its conclusion. When applying the test to Blake Leeper, the evidentiary burden on the IAAF indeed appeared much lighter than what the panel described as the enquiries that athletes would have to conduct in order to even stand a chance of discharging their burden.

When weighing in on the heaviness of the burden for athletes, the CAS panel had stressed that assessing whether a mechanical aid confers an overall competitive advantage would suppose “obtaining, analysing and presenting […] complex scientific data”, which “is likely to be challenging, expensive and time consuming”.[34]

The arbitrators listed a number of enquiries that such a determination would entail:

“it will typically be necessary to obtain, analyse and present detailed and highly technical scientific evidence concerning metrics such as the biomechanics, acceleration, maximum velocity, sprint endurance, curve-running, running economy and aerobic capacity (and, potentially, other metrics too). It will also be necessary to establish (insofar as this is scientifically possible) how each of those metrics would differ if the individual in question had biological legs rather than prosthetic limbs, and how those actual and hypothetical metrics compare to the other able-bodied athletes who compete in the same event”.[35]

Admittedly, the assessment was facilitated by the fact that Blake Leeper had actually undergone a series of tests as part of his seeking to discharge his burden of proof, so that the IAAF had the benefit of the resulting data. The arbitrators themselves noted that it would be rather unusual for a party to be able to discharge a burden of proof without having proactively submitted any scientific evidence of their own.[36]  Upon closer scrutiny, however, the results of these tests do not even appear to have been decisive for the panel’s ruling. Ultimately, the assessment was reduced to one single question, with two sub-questions: i.) does Mr Leeper run ‘unnaturally tall’ on his prosthesis, and ii.) does this give him any performance advantage?

The first question was resolved through the so-called MASH (‘Maximum Allowable Standing Height’) rule: a formula applied in Paralympic competitions which allows for an estimation of the maximum height that a Paralympic runner is allowed to run at on his prostheses in the context of Paralympic sports.[37] Blake Leeper’s prostheses placed him well above (i.e. by 15cm) the MASH height so determined. The panel treated this as indication that Leeper runs at a height substantially taller “than his height if he had intact biological legs, with a generous margin of appreciation for the diverse shapes and sizes of the human body”.[38] The second question was equally resolved by general biomechanical considerations: the panel found that the empirical evidence produced by the athlete was inconclusive on this point, and the panel was willing to follow the IAAF’s experts that “there is a direct relationship between leg length and running speed”.[39]

Thus, using two simple mathematical formulas and without truly exploiting the results of the tests conducted on Leeper, the panel was able to conclude that:

“by virtue of the fact that he uses RSPs that enable him to run at a height that is several inches taller than his maximum possible height if he had intact biological legs, Mr Leeper is able to run the 400m event in a time that is several seconds faster than the fastest time he would have been able to achieve with intact biological legs”.[40]

In effect, the CAS panel was thus able to bypass almost entirely the findings of the studies conducted by and on the athlete – after brushing aside the peer-reviewed study on the record – to focus exclusively on the opinion of the IAAF experts rooted in the general biomechanics of running. It is unlikely that a CAS panel would easily be able to reproduce that straightforward a benchmark in future cases with different disabilities. Also, it could prove important to monitor in practice what expectations panels will put on the IAAF in individual cases, and what expectations it will place on athletes in terms of duty to cooperate to the evidentiary process, to ensure that the allocation of the burden of proof will not be undermined by its application in practice.

5.     Impact of the award beyond mechanical aid

A shift in the burden of proof is a common tool used in sports regulations for issues that require complex scientific proof: for example, when a CAS panel in the Veerpalu v. FIS matter determined that it was upon the anti-doping organisation to establish the validity of its analytical methods and decision limits used, the prompt reaction in the review process of the World Anti-Doping Code (‘WADA Code’) ongoing at the time was to introduce a provision shifting that burden to the athlete (Article 3.2.1 WADA Code).[41] Other well-known reversals of this kind in anti-doping matters include establishing a departure from applicable testing or analytical procedures (Article 3.2.2/3.2.3 WADA Code), or the presumption resulting from the report of an adverse analytical finding, which requires the athlete to adduce evidence regarding the manner in which a prohibited substance came to enter his or her body in order to establish absence of or low fault. [42]

The parallels are even more striking with the WADA system for obtaining Therapeutic Use Exemptions (‘TUE’). The WADA International Standard for Therapeutic Use Exemptions (‘ISTUE’) provide that athletes have to establish the requirements for obtaining a TUE, by a balance of probabilities, one of these requirements being:

“The Therapeutic Use of the Prohibited Substance or Prohibited Method is highly unlikely to produce any additional enhancement of performance beyond what might be anticipated by a return to the Athlete’s normal state of health following the treatment of the acute or chronic medical condition” (ISTUE 4.1(b)).

In the Leeper matter, the panel accepted that there was a “certain analogy to be drawn” with TUE regulations. However, the panel appeared to consider that there was nevertheless a material difference between the situation of disabled athlete using mechanical aids and athlete requiring a TUE:

“the regulations governing TUEs were not specifically enacted with disabled athletes in mind. Unlike the Rule under consideration here, there is nothing to suggest that the TUE regulations have any disparate impact upon disabled athletes”.[43]

Assuming there was an intent on part of the panel to practice distinguishing here, the rationale for such distinguishing remains obscure. It suggests that athletes suffering from permanent health conditions would be somehow less worthy of legal protection than disabled athletes, or better harmed with financial and expert resources. Whether disabled athletes are affected specifically by the TUE regulations, or other athletes with acute or chronic health conditions, does not seem to bear any relevance for the impact of such a regulation on the affected athletes, and hence, for the proportionality of the burden of proof.

On the contrary, the principled and practical rationale that led the panel to find a lack of realistic prospects for athletes to discharge that burden would apply equally in TUE cases. As highlighted in connection with the case ISSF v. WADA,[44] which concerned a young shooter who proved unable to establish that the medically necessary beta-blockers did not enhance her performances, this aspect of the TUE requirements raises considerable issues. First, it equally supposes proof of a negative, which ought to lead at least to the recognition of a situation of ‘evidence necessity’ (Beweisnotstand), similar to the one applied by the CAS panel in the WADA & UCI v Contador & RFEC matter, to ease the burden on the athlete. Second, establishing performance enhancement associated with use of a substance is an onerous and often impracticable task, and a burden that WADA itself refuses to carry, since the WADA Code claims that performance enhancing effects cannot be challenged in court. It has been repeatedly emphasised in WADA circles that proving performance enhancement would prove unethical and impractical in many cases.

Specifically, this extract from the Leeper award essentially describes the situation in which many athletes will find themselves when faced with anti-doping proceedings:

“many, if not most, disabled athletes in that position will not have immediate access to experts with the requisite expertise or to appropriate testing and research facilities that enable such data to be gathered for analysis. […] there is a significant risk that the financial cost of obtaining the relevant data and expert analysis will be prohibitive for many disabled athletes, and therefore they will be unable to attempt to meet the burden imposed by the Rule […]”.[45]

For many athletes, challenging the validity of an analytical method or decision limit, showing entitlement to a TUE, or even just demonstrating how a substance ended up in their sample in order to establish their absence of fault, will plainly never be a realistic option. As the panel stressed in the Leeper case, in certain situations both fairness and access to evidence could be adequately accounted for, on a case-by-case basis, by drawing adverse inferences against an athlete who would refuse to cooperate with anti-doping organisations without legitimate justification.

6. A Never Ending Story

The outcome of Blake Leeper’s battle, and the relative ease with which the CAS panel reached its decision considering the difficulty of its task, must be viewed as rooted in the circumstances of the case: a clear-cut case of an athlete with a disability (bilateral amputee), a fictional able-bodied counterpart that was relatively easy to imagine conceptually (the same individual with biological legs), and - probably also - an athlete who had chosen mechanical aids that made him taller than he would ever have been with biological limbs. One may wonder how the same assessment would concretise in other contexts and how broadly this case law would be transposable to other cases of mechanical aid, even involving other categories of disabled athletes. The award made thus be programmed to remain an outlier.

The panel was able to come up with a simple operational criterion, i.e. comparing the height of the athlete when on his prosthesis to his maximum natural height, and applying a proportionality relationship whereby the height at which the athlete runs conditions the length of his stride and thus his speed. In fact, to put it somewhat provocatively, following through on the solution used by the panel would render athletic competitions meaningless, as it would be sufficient to measure each athlete’s legs to predict the outcome of a race.

In a broader perspective, the ruling in the Blake Leeper matter no doubt represents a step toward inclusiveness of athletics and sports competitions in general. The CAS panel was adamant that sports governing bodies must not adopt rules that discriminate – directly or indirectly – against athletes with a disability, or at least not without very robust justification. The CAS panel also pulled the brakes on what has become common practice when sports governing bodies stumble on issues that may be affected by irreducible uncertainty in science, or that would require significant evidentiary efforts: transferring these efforts onto the athletes by attempting to shift the burden of proof in their rules. The paradox is that the arbitrators then appeared very generous in assessing in casu the scientific justification adduced by the IAAF to support its decision, in a way that did not correlate with the heaviness of the evidentiary burden from which the panel had just resolved to save the athlete.

Perhaps most importantly, the series of cases from Pistorius to Leeper highlights that the burden of proof is a policy choice first of all, if not exclusively. In situations that are characterized by scientific complexity and evidentiary conundrums, the burden of proof determines the outcome of individual cases as effectively as if the parties were confronted with an irrebuttable presumption or legal fiction. The burden of proof can thus be said to reflect the “institutional default” behind the regulator’s or (here) the arbitrators’ value framework.[46] This makes it all the more important that the administration of such burden of proof in practice is not dealt with too lightly by panels in individual matters.

In this regard, the series also forces us to recognise that there is no way a level playing field can be defined through science, or at least not through science alone. The outcome reached by the panel in Leeper is based on a moral choice of what a ‘fair’ competition should look like and on ideals of inclusiveness and non-discrimination. The IAAF and the panel in Leeper invoked repeatedly in the award as the rule’s legitimate aim that the outcomes of competitions be determined by “competitors’ natural talent, training and effort”, as opposed to aids that confer an “artificial” competitive advantage.[47] However, the solution reached by the CAS arbitrators cannot be reconciled with the legitimate aim they relied on, unless one considers that the disabled athlete’s ‘natural’ state is his hypothetical self without the disability. Unless one treats disability as unnatural, any mechanical aid used by a disabled athlete to allow him to complete a 400m is necessarily ‘artificial’ to use the language of the CAS. Here again, the panel’s reasoning – though based at first sight on the MASH formula and objective biomechanical principles – is in reality deeply entwined with what the panel envisioned as a ‘normal’ – perhaps rather than ‘natural’ – human body, thus arguably a normative rather than biological standard.

This means that it would be unreasonable to place all expectations on science to resolve the societal dilemmas that inclusiveness in sport creates. Instead, we are bound to continue to feel our way forward through all conflicting interests and values at stake, continuously renegotiating their respective importance. In fact, in its press release acknowledging the CAS award, the IAAF mentioned newly framed claims by Blake Leeper’s legal team that the MASH rule relies on ‘racist’ foundations. The IAAF stressed – almost preemptively – that there is no basis in evidence to challenge the rule, and certainly not to assume that the 15cm disparity in height could be due to “racial differences in body dimensions”. The new CAS precedent just established may thus prove vulnerable to challenges based on other discrimination grounds, which are likely to trigger equally intractable scientific questions.

As the panel in the case of Oskar Pistorius concluded, noting that the IAAF would have to assess each athlete’s situation in the future on a case-by-case basis: “However, if it does create an additional burden, it must be viewed as just one of the challenges of 21^st Century life”.[48] Apparently, the challenge has only just started.

[1] CAS 2020/A/6807, Leeper v. IAAF, 23 October 2020. The IAAF has been renamed World Athletics. However, since the award still uses the term ‘IAAF’, this article will also do so for convenience.

[2] CAS 2008/A/1480, Pistorius v IAAF, 16 May 2008, p. 3.

[3] CAS award Pistorius, para. 38.

[4] CAS award Pistorius, para. 39.

[5] CAS award Leeper, para. 5.

[6] CAS award Leeper, para. 6.

[7] CAS award Leeper, para. 291.

[8] In fact, this is not entirely accurate since in the Dutee Chand matter, the panel considered the burden of proof was on the athlete when it comes to the scientific validity of the regulation, and the athlete did not object to this burden. For an analysis, Viret M & Wisnosky E (2016), Comment of CAS 2014/A/3759, Chand v. AFI & IAAF, 24 July 2015, in (Duval & Rigozzi (eds.)), Yearbook of International Sports Arbitration, The Hague, 235-274.

[9] CAS award Leeper, para. 315.

[10] CAS award Leeper, para. 318.

[11] CAS award Leeper, para. 319.

[12] CAS award Leeper, para. 325.

[13] CAS award Leeper, para. 330.

[14] CAS award Leeper, para. 340.

[15] CAS award Leeper, para. 342.

[16] CAS award Leeper, para. 344.

[17] CAS award Leeper, para. 350.

[18] CAS award Leeper, para. 356.

[19] CAS award Leeper, para. 361.

[20] CAS award Leeper, para. 361.

[21] CAS award Pistorius, para. 29.

[22] CAS award Leeper, para. 306.

[23] CAS award Leeper, para. 309.

[24] CAS award Leeper, para. 88.

[25] CAS award Leeper, para. 310.

[26] CAS award Pistorius, para. 47.

[27] CAS award Leeper, para. 300.

[28] CAS award Leeper, para. 331.

[29] Viret M (2016), Evidence in Anti-Doping at the Intersection of Science and Law, The Hague, p. 78.

[30] CAS 2019/A/6148, WADA v. Sun Yang & FINA, para. 336.

[31] CAS award Pistorius, para. 29.

[32] Viret M (2016), Evidence in Anti-Doping at the Intersection of Science and Law, The Hague, p. 662.

[33] For a similar analysis, see Pielke R (2016), The Edge, Berkeley, pp 262-263.

[34] CAS award Leeper, para. 345.

[35] CAS award Leeper, para. 344.

[36] CAS award Leeper, para. 365.

[37] See for a discussion CAS award Leeper, para. 67 et seq.

[38] CAS award Leeper, para. 379.

[39] CAS award Leeper, para. 389.

[40] CAS award Leeper, para. 390.

[41] Viret M & Wisnosky E (2016), The Validity of Analytical Science in Anti-Doping – A Scientific and Legal Challenge, in (Duval & Rigozzi (eds.)), Yearbook of International Sports Arbitration, The Hague, 39-72, p. 50.

[42] Viret M (2016), Evidence in Anti-Doping at the Intersection of Science and Law, The Hague, p. 662.

[43] CAS award Leeper, para. 341.

[44] Rigozzi A/ Viret M/ Wisnosky E, The ISSF v. WADA CAS Award: Another Therapeutic Use Exemption Request for Beta Blockers Shot Down

[45] CAS award Leeper, para. 347.

[46] Pielke R, The Blade Runner and the Burden of Proof.

[47] CAS award Leeper, para. 332.

[48] CAS award Pistorius, para. 56.

Editor's Note: Ryan Gauthier is Assistant Professor at Thompson Rivers University in Canada. Ryan’s research addresses the governance of sports organisations, with a particular focus on international sports organisations. His PhD research examined the accountability of the International Olympic Committee for human rights violations caused by the organisation of the Olympic Games.

Big June 2019 for Olympic Hosting

On June 24, 2019, the International Olympic Committee (IOC) selected Milano-Cortina to host the 2026 Winter Olympic Games. Milano-Cortina’s victory came despite a declaration that the bid was “dead” just months prior when the Italian government refused to support the bid. Things looked even more dire for the Italians when 2006 Winter Games host Turin balked at a three-city host proposal. But, when the bid was presented to the members of the IOC Session, it was selected over Stockholm-Åre by 47 votes to 34. 

Just two days later, the IOC killed the host selection process as we know it. The IOC did this by amending two sections of the Olympic Charter in two key ways. First, the IOC amended Rule 33.2, eliminating the requirement that the Games be selected by an election seven years prior to the Games. While an election by the IOC Session is still required, the seven-years-out requirement is gone.

Second, the IOC amended Rule 32.2 to allow for a broader scope of hosts to be selected for the Olympic Games. Prior to the amendment, only cities could host the Games, with the odd event being held in another location. Now, while cities are the hosts “in principle”, the IOC had made it so: “where deemed appropriate, the IOC may elect several cities, or other entities, such as regions, states or countries, as host of the Olympic Games.”

The change to rule 33.2 risks undoing the public host selection process. The prior process included bids (generally publicly available), evaluation committee reports, and other mechanisms to make the bidding process transparent. Now, it is entirely possible that the IOC may pre-select a host, and present just that host to the IOC for an up-or-down vote. This vote may be seven years out from the Games, ten years out, or two years out.

Why the Changes? 

To hear IOC President Thomas Bach put it, these changes were necessary to prevent “too many losers”. Bach voiced this concern in December 2016, and again in May 2019. The essence of Bach’s concern seems to be that a city will put time and effort into a bid, only for it to not be selected by the IOC.

However, the harm caused by losing a bid is unclear. Is the fear that a losing city’s bid will be a one-and-done affair? To be fair, most are. The cities that bid multiple times before winning, such as PyeongChang (2010, 2014, 2018), and Paris (2012, 2024), are rare. But it is difficult to see how the changes will affect this.

Losing an Olympic bid certainly does not make a city a “loser”. While feelings may be hurt in the short run, cities keep on running. Toronto has lost five bids to host the Olympics, with the most recent loss in 2001 for the 2008 Games. But no one seriously thinks of Toronto as a “loser” city – particularly after the Raptors’ NBA championship victory. Legacies can still be created from losing bids. Developing a bid allows the city to re-imagine itself, and market itself to the world. It might even be in a city’s best interest to bid for the Olympics, but not win, to get the benefits without having to invest the billions of dollars to host the Games.

The IOC may be changing the process to eliminate this “winner’s curse”. Currently, bidding cities try to out-promise each other, driving up complexity and costs. Under the new system, the IOC could work more closely with a potential city or region from the outset, organizing and delivering an Olympics that truly fits. The IOC has stated that it would work less like franchisors, and more like partners with future Games hosts, and has formalised this approach in their “New Norm” modifications to Olympic Games delivery.

Finally, the IOC may be hoping that this new approach will encourage cities that might see themselves as “long-shots” to come forward and host the Games. But the last “long-shot” selected as host of the Olympic Games, Rio de Janeiro, was plagued with allegations of corruption, displacement of vulnerable people from the favelas, and poor legacy outcomes.

Back to Salt Lake City? 

This new process, with the IOC possibly presenting only one possible city to the IOC Session for an up-and-down vote has the possibility to undermine transparency in the host selection process. If the IOC is unwilling to announce possible candidates until a deal is already done, the promises made by a city or region may not even be known by its own public until the IOC Session votes on it.

Robert Livingstone, who runs the website GamesBids.com, worries that these changes will lead to “a devolution back to the 1980s and 1990s when a translucent bid process eventually led to the Salt Lake City bribery scandal.” I share that same fear. With Salt Lake City looking to host the 2030 Games, history is rhyming a little to closely.

Even if the return to lavish visits, gift-giving, influence-buying, and outright corruption don’t come to pass, this is a reversal of the general direction since the IOC published Agenda 2020 in 2014. Agenda 2020 called for more transparency, such as publishing Host City Contracts. To their credit, the IOC has followed through on many of the Agenda 2020 reforms.

A reduction in transparency will likely lead to less public participation. And that may be the IOC’s goal. The IOC is sensitive to referendums. The general public is more critical of the Games than it was in the past. In recent years, hosting the Games has been subject to more referendums than ever, with almost all of those referendums saying ‘no’ to the Games.

IOC Member Dick Pound stated that he has “no hesitation in allowing a [future host] commission to have discussions that are out of the public eye that perhaps occur with sports authorities or interested groups even before the governments had been engaged in this, and can be done on a very confidential basis.” This type of process, without even government knowledge, effectively undercuts public consultation and participation in any bid process.

This new bid process has not happened, yet. It is possible that IOC’s approach will continue to be ever-more transparent, and to allow for public input into the bid process. Naturally, until the IOC shares more of its thoughts about the process, and until we see a host selection process in action, which may be years away (under the old process, the selection process for the 2030 Games would take place between 2021–2023), any commentary about the process is admittedly speculative.

Is the IOC Afraid of Losing?

The IOC is facing a crisis of legitimacy. This crisis is no more apparent than when no city seems to want to host the Olympic Games. Of course, there are many reasons that cities are wary of the Games. High costs, poor legacies, perceptions of corruption, and other problems regularly plague the Games.

The IOC’s Agenda 2020 reforms were positive steps forward in addressing some of these issues. Instead, the IOC has seemingly decided that it would rather take the process out of the public eye under the guide of the cities being afraid of being “losers”. But it seems that the IOC is the one afraid of “losing”. Afraid of hearing that “Nobody Wants to Host the Olympics Anymore”. Afraid of the Games coming out on the losing end of referendums. Afraid of having to choose between a bad and worse option to host the Games. The only loser here might be the Olympic Games.

With this blog post, we continue the blog series on Turkish match-fixing cases and our attempt to map the still unchartered waters of the CAS’s match-fixing jurisprudence.

The first blog post addressed two issues related to the substance of match-fixing disputes, namely the legal characterization of the match-fixing related measure of ineligibility under Article 2.08 of the UEL Regulations as administrative or disciplinary measure and the scope of application of Article 2.08. In addition, The Turkish cases have raised procedural and evidentiary issues that need to be dealt with in the framework of match-fixing disputes.

The CAS panels have drawn a clear line between substantial and procedural matters. In this light, the Eskişehirspor panel declared the nature of Article 2.08 UEL Regulations to be administrative and rejected the application of UEFA Disciplinary Regulations to the substance. Nonetheless, it upheld that disciplinary rules and standards still apply to the procedure. This conclusion, however, can be considered puzzling in that disciplinary rules apply to the procedural matters arising by a pure administrative measure. To this extent, and despite the bifurcation of different applicable rules into substantial and procedural matters, the credibility of the qualification of Article 2.08 as administrative seems to be undermined. And here a question arises: How can the application of rules of different nature to substantial and procedural matters in an identical match-fixing dispute be explained?

This paradoxical approach can be justified by the conflicting duty of the CAS in match-fixing disputes. The CAS aims to strike the right balance between due process concerns, on the one hand, and the urge to fight against match-fixing effectively, on the other hand. In this sense, procedural matters have to be examined in conjunction with substantial issues raised in match-fixing disputes. Having as a starting point, therefore, the fundamental distinction between administrative and disciplinary measures, this blogpost will proceed with an analysis of the standard of proof applicable in match-fixing disputes (1) and of the admissibility of evidence (2). 

Standard of proof in Match-Fixing disputes: To be ‘comfortable’ or not to be?

It has been argued that in international arbitration the standard of proof has an impact on the form and not on the substance of a dispute.[1] However, in cases of corruption and particularly in match-fixing disputes, the determination of the standard of proof is significant, since the application of a different standard may lead the CAS to adopt a different substantive conclusion on the merits.[2] Considering, also, the severity of the ineligibility sanction imposed to a club for being involved in an act or an attempt of match-fixing, it is important to assess the emerging trends of the CAS jurisprudence in setting this standard.

The CAS Code does not define the applicable standard of proof in CAS proceedings. As a result, sports-governing bodies may explicitly specify a pre-determined standard of proof in their regulations. Indeed, in the Bin Hammam, Köllerer and Adamu cases, the CAS recognized the autonomy of a sports federation in determining the applicable standard of proof[3] by acknowledging that ‘in the absence of any overarching regulation, each association can decide for itself which standard of proof to apply’. Specifically, in the context of UEFA match-fixing proceedings, UEFA has embedded the standard of ‘comfortable satisfaction’ as the applicable standard of proof in Articles 2.05 of the UEFA Champions League (UCL) Regulations and 2.08 of the UEFA Europa League (UEL) Regulations. However, even in cases where the standard of proof is enshrined in the applicable regulations, the CAS is not impeded to deviate from this standard. In any case, it is interesting to analyse the reasoning of the panels in coming to the conclusion that the comfortable satisfaction standard or another standard of proof is applicable.

The first time the CAS was called to adjudicate on the standard of proof to be used in match-fixing disputes was in the Pobeda case.[4] Since then, in a number of awards, including the most recent example of the Turkish cases, the CAS has attempted to establish certain general principles on the standard of proof to be applied in match-fixing cases. However, this has not been done in an entirely consistent way.

In the Fenerbahçe case, the Panel determined the comfortable satisfaction as the standard applicable in the event of a maximum one year period of ineligibility to participate in the UEFA CL or UEFA EL, namely in case of application of Articles 2.05 UCL or 2.08 UEL. Nevertheless, to determine the standard of proof when Articles 2.06 UCL or 2.09 UEL apply, in absence of a standard explicitly provided, the CAS referred to Swiss civil law cases and to the CAS jurisprudence. In fact, the panel observed a contradiction. While according to Swiss civil law cases the standard to be applied is the ‘beyond reasonable doubt’, the CAS jurisprudence, making an analogy to doping cases, has found that the applicable standard of proof in match-fixing cases should be ‘comfortable satisfaction’. The CAS jurisprudence has justified this departure from the commonly applicable standard of proof in civil cases to the reduced standard of comfortable satisfaction by referring to the ‘restricted investigative powers of sports governing bodies’[5]and to the fact that in corruption cases the parties involved seek evasive means to escape from sanction.[6] The Fenerbahçe panel acknowledged the difficulties of proving an occurrence of match-fixing in the case at hand, since UEFA had access to circumstantial evidence only and concluded that the reduced standard of comfortable satisfaction had to be applied.

A similar approach was adopted in the Besiktas case. Although Article 2.08 UEL Regulations explicitly provided for the standard of comfortable satisfaction, the panel referred extensively to the match-fixing related CAS jurisprudence and particularly to the Metalist case[7] in order to justify the application of the comfortable satisfaction standard. Interestingly enough, although the Appellant claimed that in this case UEFA and the CAS had access to the broad investigatory powers of the Turkish authorities and therefore the beyond any reasonable doubt standard should have applied, the Besiktas panel declared that the pure civil character of the CAS proceedings excludes per se the application of a standard of proof applicable in criminal proceedings.

Finally, the Eskişehirspor panel confirmed the application of the comfortable satisfaction standard, which is in line with the existing CAS jurisprudence. By contrast to the Besiktas case, the Eskişehirspor panel relied on the wording itself of Article 2.08 and then went a step further by elaborating the meaning of the comfortable satisfaction standard. Specifically, the comfortable satisfaction standard was defined as a ‘kind of sliding scale’ based on the seriousness of the allegation. In practice this means that ‘the more serious the allegation and its consequences, the higher certainty the Panel would require to be comfortable satisfied’.[8] The comfortable satisfaction standard, therefore, requires that the offence be demonstrated to a higher level than a mere balance of probability but less than proof beyond a reasonable doubt bearing in mind the seriousness of the allegation which is being made. In this light, considering the serious repercussions of being found guilty of match-fixing and particularly the sizeable economic consequences due to missing out on the Europa League or Champions League competitions, the comfortable satisfaction standard provides sufficient safeguard to the football clubs.[9]

The comfortable satisfaction fits better disciplinary proceedings, where the burden of proof must be proportionate to the sanction imposed. At this point, however, a paradox emerges. Taking into consideration the CAS declaration in the Eskişehirspor case of the administrative character of the ineligibility measure under Article 2.08 UEL Regulations, it comes as a surprise that the CAS applies a standard of proof, which in principle is linked to disciplinary proceedings. This transposition can be explained by the fact that, according to the CAS, the UEFA DR still apply in procedural matters. However, the author of this commentary is of the opinion that the CAS falls prey to a contradiction. Having identified the enforcement of Article 2.08 as administrative, the CAS distinguished between substance and procedure in a controversial way, by applying to the later the comfortable satisfaction standard usually used in the framework of disciplinary proceedings. This blurs again the line between administrative and disciplinary measures, and raises the question whether the CAS can cherry pick procedural elements from disciplinary proceedings.

More importantly, the Eskişehirspor assessment seems to undermine the ratio itself of the distinction between administrative and disciplinary measures and the qualification of article 2.08 as administrative. As the Fenerbahçe panel remarked, the bifurcation of the proceedings regarding the administrative measure and the proceedings in respect of the disciplinary measure can be justified by the necessity of having to act quickly in respect of the administrative measure in order to protect the integrity of the competition, while the imposition of the final and appropriate disciplinary measure might require a more comprehensive evaluation of the case. In this sense, due to the urgency of rendering a club ineligible as a result of its involvement in match-fixing, a lower standard than the comfortable satisfaction could be tolerated, namely the standard of balance of probability.

It seems, therefore, that in the match-fixing framework the CAS is called to reconcile two contradictory but equally overriding aims: the due process concerns generally embraced by the CAS and the fundamentality of the fight against match-fixing in the eyes of UEFA. In the Eskişehirspor case, and in previous match-fixing cases, the CAS opted for a standard of proof in line with the intensity of the administrative measure adopted, a standard that safeguards the due process rights of a club to the detriment of systematic coherency. 

Admissibility and evaluation of evidence in match-fixing disputes

With regard to the evidentiary measures in match-fixing proceedings, it is well-established jurisprudence that sports federations and arbitral tribunals enjoy considerable discretion and are not necessarily barred from taking into account evidence, which may not be admissible in civil or criminal state courts.[10] 

In the Turkish match-fixing scandal, two issues have been specifically raised: the reliance of the CAS panel on findings of a state court in match-fixing (1) and the admissibility of the use of wiretaps (2).

In both the Fenerbahçe and Besiktas cases, at the time of the CAS proceedings, criminal proceedings were pending before the Turkish Supreme Court. The legal question arising out of these parallel proceedings was whether the CAS panels could rely on the findings of domestic courts. The Fenerbahçe panel took into account that there was no final and binding criminal conviction in domestic courts yet, and, thereby, chose to adopt a slightly independent approach. The panel tried to provide its own evaluation of the facts. However, it concluded that based on the lower standard of comfortable satisfaction the criminal case could be taken into account to corroborate the conclusion reached by UEFA, namely that one of the Fenerbahçe’s officials was suspected of being involved in match-fixing.[11] On the other hand, the Besiktas panel using the Oriekhov[12] case as a point of reference argued that due to the restricted investigative powers of UEFA and the CAS, the panel should be able to rely on domestic courts’ decisions. It noted, however, that the CAS should not blindly rely on a particular national decision, but rather assess and evaluate all the evidence available in the context of its own case. While the two panels justified the use of findings of a state court in a different way, their approach reflects a rather cautious approach of the CAS when extending a criminal conviction to a disciplinary conviction the readiness of the CAS to import evidentiary material from national courts even though it is to do so in a rather cautious manner, weary of the disciplinary nature of the case presented to its jurisdiction.

As far as the use of wiretaps is concerned, the Eskişehirspor case is adding to a series of CAS awards allowing wiretaps recordings as an admissible type of evidence. After having conducted the ‘balancing exercise’, which was introduced in the Fusimalohi[13] case and taking into account the limited investigative powers of UEFA, the CAS concluded that the inclusion of evidence unlawfully obtained is outweighed by the interests of UEFA in uncovering the truth in match-fixing cases. In this light, the use of wiretaps should be admissible as the only evidentiary medium susceptible to ascertain the factual truth. The CAS, therefore, confirmed once again its growing concern to support the fight against match-fixing with all the possible evidentiary means available in its legal toolkit. 

Conclusive Remarks

A series of CAS awards over the past years have addressed procedural and substantial matters related to match-fixing cases. Some of the issues discussed above, i.e. the applicable standard of proof and the evidentiary means accessible in match-fixing cases, seem to be solidly established. Two important conclusions can be drawn with regard to CAS jurisprudence procedural matters: firstly, it is unlikely that the CAS would deviate from a standard of proof enshrined expressively in the regulations of sports-governing bodies and secondly, with regard to the admissibility of evidence, future CAS panels are likely to take into account the difficult position of federations when investigating match-fixing offences.

There are nevertheless a number of issues still open for discussion. In the Eskişehirspor case the CAS attempted to clarify the legal nature and scope of Article 2.08, drawing a clear line between administrative and disciplinary measures. However, by applying UEFA DR in procedural matters, the CAS maintains alive the uncertainty over the real nature of the ineligibility imposed by Article 2.08: is it an administrative measure or a disciplinary sanction? It seems that the CAS is willing to confer an administrative flavour to the ineligibility measure, but at the same time it attempts to ease the draconian economic consequences of this measure by imposing a relatively strict burden of proof on the shoulder of UEFA.

After all, and despite the CAS’s willingness to effectively support the fight against match-fixing, it seems that - for the moment at least - the CAS is not willing to adopt a Machiavellian ‘the end justifies the mean’ approach, namely an approach where due process concerns would come entirely short.

[1] F Rodriguez, ‘ICCA 2014. Standard of Proof: A plea for Precision or an Unnecessary Remedy?’ (http://kluwerarbitrationblog.com/blog/2014/04/10/icca-2014-standard-of-proof-a-plea-for-precision-or-an-unnecessary-remedy/).

[2] E Barak and D Koolaard, ‘Match-fixing. The aftermath of Pobeda-what have the past four years brought us?’ 18 (http://www.tas-cas.org/d2wfiles/document/5890/5048/0/Bulletin202014-120final.pdf).

[3] A Rigozzi and B Quinn, ‘Evidentiary Issues before CAS’ (http://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=2438570), 24.

[4] CAS 2009/A/1920, FK Pobeda, Aleksandar Zabrcanec, Nicolce Zdraveski v UEFA.

[5] CAS 2010/A/2172, Oleg Oriekhov v UEFA.

[6] CAS 2009/A/1920 (n 4).

[7] CAS 2010/A/2267-2281, Football Club “Metalist” et al. v. FFU.

[8] CAS 2013/A/3256, Fenerbahçe Spor Kubülü v UEFA, para 123.

[9] CAS 2004/A/607, B. v. International Weightlifting Federation (IWF), para 34.

[10] CAS 2011/A/2425, Ahongalu  Fusimalohi v FIFA, para 79.

[11]CAS 2013/A/3256 (n 8), para 543-544.

[12] CAS 2010/A/2172 (n 5).

[13] CAS 2011/A/2425 (10), para 80.

Editor’s note: Emilio García (emilio.garcia@uefa.ch)  is a doctor in law and head of disciplinary and integrity at UEFA. Before joining UEFA, he was the Spanish Football Federation’s legal director (2004–12) and an arbitrator at the CAS (2012–13).In this blog, Emilio García provides a brief review of a recent case before the Court of Arbitration for Sport (CAS): Klubi Sportiv Skënderbeu v UEFA (CAS 2016/A/4650)[1], in which he acted as main counsel for UEFA. 

Sport and match-fixing – A quick overview

Match-fixing is now legally defined as “an intentional arrangement, act or omission aimed at an improper alteration of the result or the course of a sports competition in order to remove all or part of the unpredictable nature of the aforementioned sports competition with a view to obtaining an undue advantage for oneself or for others”.[2] It has been said that there has always been match-fixing in sport.[3] From the ancient Olympic Games to the most important global sports competitions of today, manipulation of results has always been an all-too-frequent occurrence.

We have seen a number of very prominent instances of this kind of issue over the years. One of the most remarkable examples, which was even the subject of a film,[4] was the match-fixing episode during the 1919 World Series, where several players from the Chicago White Sox were found guilty of accepting bribes and deliberately losing matches against the Cincinnati Reds.[5]

The situation has changed considerably since then. In particular, the globalisation of the sports betting industry has had a massive impact, with recent studies estimating that between €200bn and €500bn is betted on sport every year.[6] Match-fixing does not just affect football either;[7] it is also affecting other sports, most notably tennis.[8] 

In addition to these impressive figures, it is well recognised that match-fixing has become a global issue because it allows organised criminal gangs to expand their illegal and violent activities – which include murder, extortion and assault – worldwide. It also results in the loss of billions of dollars of tax revenue and public income every year. Indeed, match-fixing is now one of the most profitable forms of money laundering.[9]

In light of the growth of this phenomenon, both international sports federations and public authorities are now engaged in a continuous battle against this scourge. More and more sports federations are establishing specific programmes in this area, which is having a major impact at national level.[10] And as regards public authorities, various resolutions have been adopted by the European Union, several initiatives have been launched by INTERPOL and EUROPOL, and, in particular, excellent work has been done by the Council of Europe, which adopted the first ever international treaty aimed at combating the manipulation of sports competitions. These are all good examples of cooperation between public authorities and the world of sport, but we are still a long way from winning this particular battle.

UEFA’s rules and integrity-related cases

AC Milan: UEFA’s first modern-day integrity case

In May 2006, a match-fixing scandal – christened the ‘Calciopoli’ – was unearthed in Italian football. Investigations led by the Italian police revealed that a network of club managers, officials responsible for referees and other individuals had sought to influence the outcome of various matches in the Serie A. Several clubs were punished by the Italian Football Federation (FIGC). One of those clubs was AC Milan, which was given a 30-point penalty. However, despite the deduction of those points, AC Milan still managed to qualify for the 2006/07 UEFA Champions League.

Thus, the admissions process for the 2006/07 UEFA Champions League presented UEFA with a real legal conundrum: could UEFA allow a club that had been punished for its involvement in the Calciopoli to take part in a European competition? On 2 August 2006, the UEFA Emergency Panel decided to allow AC Milan to participate in UEFA’s flagship competition on the basis of the following considerations:

“The UEFA Emergency Panel, being competent to decide on the matter, came to the conclusion that it had no choice but to admit AC Milan for the UEFA club competitions 2006-07 for formal reasons because of an insufficient legal basis in the regulations which would allow not admitting AC Milan under specific circumstances.”[11]

This situation was highly frustrating for UEFA, which felt that it was unable to prevent AC Milan from participating in its competition, despite the club’s involvement in match-fixing. It should also be noted that AC Milan went on to win that competition, beating English side Liverpool FC in the final on 23 May 2007.

Evolution of the legal framework

UEFA’s response to the AC Milan case was a swift one. At the very next UEFA Congress, which took place in Dusseldorf on 25 and 26 January 2007, representatives of the various member associations approved a new paragraph 3 for Article 50 of the UEFA Statutes.[12]

That amendment, which remains in force today, established a two-stage process aimed at guaranteeing the integrity of UEFA’s competitions. The first stage involves an administrative measure, whereby the offending club is excluded from European competitions for one season. The second stage involves disciplinary measures, which may be imposed subsequent to the administrative measure and do not have a maximum duration.[13]

Article 50(3) of the UEFA Statutes reads as follows:

“The admission to a UEFA competition of a Member Association or club directly or indirectly involved in any activity aimed at arranging or influencing the outcome of a match at national or international level can be refused with immediate effect, without prejudice to any possible disciplinary measures.”

That provision has also been incorporated in the regulations governing the UEFA Champions League and the UEFA Europa League, which currently feature the following wording:

“If, on the basis of all the factual circumstances and information available to UEFA, UEFA concludes to its comfortable satisfaction that a club has been directly and/or indirectly involved, since the entry into force of Article 50(3) of the UEFA Statutes, i.e. 27 April 2007, in any activity aimed at arranging or influencing the outcome of a match at national or international level, UEFA will declare such club ineligible to participate in the competition. Such ineligibility is effective only for one football season. When taking its decision, UEFA can rely on, but is not bound by, a decision of a national or international sporting body, arbitral tribunal or state court.”[14]

Key CAS rulings (2008-15)

UEFA has been very active in applying this two-stage process to its European club competitions – particularly as regards the first stage. Since the introduction of this peculiar but successful process, more than ten clubs from all over Europe have been declared ineligible to participate in UEFA competitions. In some cases, those one-season bans have been accompanied by disciplinary measures.

Inevitably, many of those cases have resulted in proceedings before the CAS in Lausanne.[15] The CAS case law derived from those key cases can be summarised as follows:

• It is firmly in the interest of UEFA, as the organiser of sports competitions, for the integrity of its competitions to be ensured and perceived to be so by the public. It is undeniably in UEFA’s interest to show the public that it takes all necessary steps to safeguard the integrity of its competitions.[16]
• UEFA does not need to wait for a final decision at domestic level, particularly when it comes to criminal proceedings, since neither UEFA nor the CAS can be forced to defer their decisions when an effective fight to ensure the integrity of sport depends on prompt action. UEFA and the CAS are not subject to the same rules as the ordinary courts in terms of procedure, proof (types of evidence and standard of proof) and substance.[17]
• The essential aim of the administrative measure is not to punish the club, but to protect the values and objectives of UEFA’s competition, its reputation and its integrity. It seeks not only to prevent a club which has violated such values from taking part in UEFA’s competition (i.e. to protect the integrity of that competition), but also to dispel any doubts in the public domain regarding the integrity, values and fairness of its competition (i.e. to protect the reputation of that competition).[18]
  
• The administrative measure is not of a disciplinary nature. Consequently, the fundamental legal principles that could potentially be applicable to disciplinary matters are not relevant.[19]
  
• The question of whether the club has any degree of culpability as regards the prohibited activities is entirely irrelevant. The principle of nulla poena sine culpa does not apply to administrative measures adopted by sports associations.[20]
  
• The range of conduct resulting in the application of an administrative measure is broader and more generic than that resulting in a disciplinary measure, which is, in principle, more restrictive and specific.[21]
  
• The administrative measure is only applicable to a club, whereas disciplinary measures can be imposed on all persons bound by UEFA’s rules and regulations (i.e. member associations and their officials, clubs and their officials, match officials, players, etc.).[22]

The CAS ruling on KS Skënderbeu: Is betting analysis sufficient to declare a club in breach of UEFA’s integrity rules?

UEFA’s betting fraud detection system

UEFA’s betting fraud detection system (BFDS) was established in 2009 in response to the growing threat of match manipulation in both UEFA and domestic competitions.

The BFDS highlights irregular betting patterns, both before and during matches, in the core betting markets, monitoring all major European and Asian bookmakers. The core betting markets are: the Asian handicap market; the totals market (number of goals in a match); and the 1X2 market (home win, draw or away win). The BFDS covers all UEFA competition matches (approximately 2,000 per season) and all matches in member associations’ top two divisions and cup competitions (approximately 30,000 matches per season).

The BFDS uses sophisticated algorithms and mathematical models to compare calculated odds with actual bookmakers’ odds, in order to determine whether the odds at a specific point in time or over a specific period are irregular.[23]

If a match displays irregular betting patterns, the matter is escalated and a report is generated. These reports include detailed information on the betting operators being monitored, together with match-specific data – e.g. regarding the current form of the teams involved, on-field action, players, match officials and motivational factors (such as the potential for promotion, relegation or qualification for a UEFA competition). Reports contain textual analysis and expert assessments, as well as graphical representations of movements in the relevant betting market.[24]

UEFA’s primary BFDS partner and information provider is Swiss-based company Sportradar. Founded in 2001, this company employs a team of highly trained sports betting analysts dealing exclusively with European football.

The facts of the case

On the basis of analysis of BFDS reports, it was concluded that Albanian football club KS Skënderbeu had been involved in a very large number of matches with inexplicable betting patterns. These included matches in Albania’s domestic league, the Albanian Cup and UEFA competitions, as well as several friendlies against foreign clubs. On the basis of UEFA’s experience in the areas of betting and match-fixing, it was concluded that the activities relating to Skënderbeu were of a highly organised nature.

While the vast majority of clubs will never feature in BFDS reports, it should be noted that Skënderbeu has appeared in more than 50. If we look at all the clubs that have been the subject of BFDS reports since 2010, Skënderbeu has been flagged up far more times than any other club in Europe.

Proceedings before UEFA’s disciplinary bodies

Against this background, charges were brought against Skënderbeu before UEFA’s disciplinary bodies with a view to imposing an administrative measure preventing the club from taking part in the 2016/17 UEFA Champions League.[25] A hearing took place before the UEFA Appeals Body, which acted as the first and final instance in this case.[26] The Appeals Body upheld the charges against the club – i.e. it deemed that Skënderbeu had indeed been involved in domestic and international activities aimed at arranging or influencing the outcome of matches. Consequently, the club was declared ineligible to participate in the 2016/17 UEFA Champions League.

Skënderbeu then lodged an appeal against this decision before the CAS.

The CAS award

The dispute between UEFA and Skënderbeu before the CAS essentially revolved around the interpretation of the BFDS reports and the legal value that should be attributed to them. UEFA, for its part, relied on those betting reports in concluding that the Albanian club had been involved in activities aimed at arranging or influencing the outcome of matches at domestic and international level. Skënderbeu, on the other hand, maintained that the BFDS reports (i) were not sufficient to prove match-fixing, (ii) were not capable of attributing specific responsibility as regards involvement in match-fixing, and (iii) were simply objective alarm mechanisms, which needed to be supported by other external evidence pointing in the same direction.

The CAS limited itself to an analysis of four Skënderbeu matches in UEFA competitions (namely, the club’s matches against Crusaders FC on 21 July 2015, against GNK Dinamo Zagreb on 25 August 2015, against Sporting Clube de Portugal on 22 October 2015 and against FC Lokomotiv Moskva on 10 December 2015) and refrained from analysing domestic matches and other pieces of evidence submitted by UEFA. It did so in order to avoid prejudicing any disciplinary measures that UEFA might potentially impose on the club.[27]

The starting point for the legal analysis conducted by the CAS Panel tallied with UEFA’s approach to this case and the question of whether BFDS reports could be used as the sole piece of evidence when prosecuting cases of match-fixing. The CAS agreed with UEFA that there were potential analogies between athletes’ biological passports and BFDS reports: “The Panel notes the similarities between the procedures followed in respect of the BFDS and the athlete blood passport (the ‘ABP’) in doping matters. Both rely initially on analytical data which is subsequently interpreted by experts/analysts before conclusions are drawn as to whether a violation is presumed to be committed or not.”[28]

Using this analogy, the Panel explained how analytical information was processed within the BFDS, highlighting the fact that the BFDS – like the ABP – indicates the likelihood of a violation having occurred, rather than providing absolute proof one way or the other: “The BFDS analyses whether the analytical information regarding betting on football matches can be explained by ‘normal’ circumstances. The conclusion that the statistical information cannot be explained by ‘normal’ circumstances does not necessarily entail that it must hence be concluded that the results are to be explained by match-fixing.”[29] The Panel went on to say that “[i]n order to come to the conclusion that a match is fixed […] the analytical information needs to be supported by other, different and external elements pointing in the same direction”.[30] With this in mind, the Panel noted that “the final conclusions drawn are not only based on analytical data and the absence of any ‘normal’ explanation, but indeed take into account several external factors corroborating the theory that the abnormal betting behaviour was likely to be explained by match-fixing: suspicious actions of players that took place on the field of play, suspicions raised by an opponent after the match, the emergence of a betting pattern in respect of the Club whereby it would concede late goals when the tie was no longer competitive and the fact that the Hong Kong Jockey Club, a prominent Asian bookmaker, removed the Club from live markets before the end of a game”.[31]

The Panel also attributed considerable weight to the betting patterns surrounding the four European matches under examination: “The Panel particularly considers the emergence of a betting pattern […] to be convincing evidence that the Club is at least indirectly involved in match-fixing activities. This betting pattern consists of the fact that it was observed in four different matches of the Club in either the UEFA Champions League or the UEFA Europa League in the first half of the 2015/2016 sporting season, that the actual bookmakers’ odds started to divert considerably from the calculated odds at the end of the match when the tie was no longer competitive (i.e. when it was clear that the Club would lose the tie on the basis of the aggregate score or that it would win the tie).”[32]

All in all, the Panel concluded that the “analytical information derived from the BFDS is valuable evidence that, particularly if corroborated by further evidence, can be used in order to conclude that a club was directly or indirectly involved in match-fixing”.[33]

Conclusion

Over the last few years, I have heard many betting experts state that monitoring is not the answer to match-fixing in sport. I fully agree with all of them, particularly since they know far more about the betting market than I do. Perhaps as a consequence of my limited legal skills (since even bad lawyers are always trying to find solutions to a complex reality), I would prefer to say that monitoring is not the only answer to match-fixing.

What the CAS ruling on Skënderbeu shows is that action can be taken if you have a proper monitoring system. Again, monitoring is not the sole solution to this problem, but it represents an additional evidentiary tool and can play an important role in legal proceedings. We should remember that match-fixing is linked to corruption and that the parties involved will inevitably “seek to use evasive means to ensure that they will leave no trail of their wrongdoing”.[34] Importantly, the legal framework governing match-fixing is clearly different for ordinary courts, where “the applicable rules in terms of procedure, proof (types of evidence and standard of proof) and substance are not the same as those that apply before UEFA and the CAS”.[35] In this context, a monitoring system can play a key legal role in safeguarding the integrity of a competition.

[1] A copy of the CAS award is available at: http://www.uefa.org/disciplinary/casdecisions/index.html.

[2] Article 3(4) of the Council of Europe Convention on the Manipulation of Sports Competitions.

[3] See Hill, D. (2016). Why sport is losing the war to match-fixers. Global Corruption Report: Sport, Transparency International, p. 231.

[4] Eight Men Out, directed by John Sayles, which was released in 1988.

[5] See Carpenter, K. (2013). Global Match-Fixing and the United States’ Role in Upholding Sporting Integrity. Berkeley Journal of Entertainment and Sports Law, Vol. 2, Issue 1.

[6] See Sorbonne-ICSS (2014). Protecting the Integrity of Sport Competition: The Last Bet for Modern Sport.

[7] See FIFPro (2016). 2016 FIFPro Global Employment Report.

[8] See ESSA (2016). ESSA Q3 2016 Integrity Report.

[9] See Anderson, J. (2014). Match Fixing and Money Laundering. The International Sports Law Journal.

[10] Among others, the Tennis Integrity Unit (see http://www.tennisintegrityunit.com/) or the Cricket Anti-Corruption Unit (see http://www.icc-cricket.com/about/46/anti-corruption/overview).

[11] The full official UEFA statement is accessible at the following link: http://www.telegraph.co.uk/sport/2342180/Milan-restored-to-Champions-League.html. 

[12] See http://www.uefa.org/documentlibrary/aboutuefa.

[13] CAS 2013/A/3256, Fenerbahçe SK v UEFA, para. 160 et seqq.

[14] Article 4.02 of both the Regulations of the UEFA Champions League 2016/17 and the Regulations of the UEFA Europa League 2016/17 (http://www.uefa.org/documentlibrary/regulations/index.html).

[15] The CAS has reviewed a total of six cases relating to the refusal of admission on grounds of integrity. See generally Deakes, N. (2014). Match-Fixing in football: The epistemology of the Court of Arbitration for Sport Jurisprudence. Australian and New Zealand Sports Law Journal

[16] TAS 2011/A/2528, Olympiacos Volou FC v UEFA, para. 141.

[17] Ibid., para. 136.

[18] CAS 2014/A/3625, Sivasspor Kulübü v UEFA, para. 123.

[19] Ibid., para. 128.

[20] CAS 2014/A/3628, Eskişehirspor Kulübü v UEFA, para. 136.

[21] Ibid., para. 105.

[22] Ibid.

[23] Calculated odds are a mathematical representation of the true probability of an occurrence, without the external effects of money and subjective opinions. In effect, they show what should be happening to the odds, instead of what is actually happening.

[24] See Forrest, D., & McHale, I. (2015). An evaluation of Sportradar’s fraud detection system.

[25] See García, E. (2015). UEFA’s Judicial Bodies. Football Legal, Issue 4.

[26] See Article 24(4) of the UEFA Disciplinary Regulations.

[27] See Article 4.03 of the Regulations of the UEFA Champions League 2016/17.

[28] CAS 2016/A/4650 Klubi Sportiv Skënderbeu v UEFA, para. 82.

[29] Ibid., para. 85.

[30] Ibid., para. 86.

[31] Ibid., para. 87.

[32] Ibid., para. 97.

[33] Ibid., para. 79.

[34] CAS 2010/A/2172, Mr Oleg Oriekhov v UEFA, para. 54.

[35] TAS 2011/A/2528, Olympiacos Volou FC v UEFA, para. 136.

Editor's note: Rhys was an intern at the T.M.C. Asser Institute. He now advises on investments and Notre acquisitions in sport (mainly football) via Lovelle Street Advisory. Following a career as a professional athlete, Rhys has spent much of his professional life as an international sports agent, predominantly operating in football. Rhys has a Bachelor of Laws (LL.B) and a Bachelor of Philosophy (B.Phil.) from the University of Dame, Sydney, Australia. He is currently completing an LL.M at the University of Zurich in International Business Law / International Sports Law.

Having looked at the different types of investors in football in part one of this two-part blog series, “A non-exhaustive Typology”, it is fitting to now consider the regulations that apply to investors who seek to build a portfolio of football clubs.

One way to measure the momentum of a particular practice and how serious it ought to be taken, might be when that practice earns its own initialism. Multi-club ownership or MCO as it is increasingly known today, is the name given to those entities that have an ownership stake in multiple clubs. Within the little research and writing that has been undertaken on the topic, some authors submit that investors with minority stakes in multiple clubs ought not to be captured by the MCO definition.  This position appears problematic given some of the regulations draw the line at influence rather than stake.

There are now approximately 50 MCO’s across the football world that own approximately 150 clubs.^[1] Given the way MCO is trending, one might consider it important that the regulations keep up with the developing MCO practice, so as to ensure the integrity of football competitions, and to regulate any other potentially questionable benefit an MCO might derive that would be contrary to football’s best interests.

In this blog, I focus on the variety of ways (and levels at which) this practice is being regulated.  I will move through the football pyramid from member associations (MA’s) to FIFA, laying the foundations to support a proposition that FIFA and only FIFA is positioned to regulate MCO.

i)               The Cases that Shaped the MCO Regulatory Landscape

The ENIC and Red Bull cases essentially shaped MCO regulations, at least for UEFA.  For a comprehensive analysis of the cases, I would encourage one look at both “Multi-Club Ownership in European Football – Part I: General Introduction and the ENIC Saga” and “Multi-Club Ownership in European Football – Part II: The Concept of Decisive Influence in the Red Bull Case” by Tomáš Grell.

ENIC CASE[2]

The ENIC case featuring proceedings before the Court of Arbitration for Sport and before the European Commission, made its way to such bodies because London Stock Exchange listed entity, ENIC (English National Investment Company), owned stakes in both AEK Athens and SK Slavia Prague, that were set to play in the same UEFA club competition. At that point in time, UEFA had adopted regulations that made entry to UEFA club competitions conditional upon a club having not (i) held or been dealing in the securities or shares; and refrained from (ii) being a member; (iii) being involved in any capacity whatsoever in the management, administration, and/or sporting performance; and (iv) having any power whatsoever in the management, administration and/or sporting performance - of any other club participating in the same UEFA club competition. Furthermore, an individual or entity was prohibited from exercising control over more than one club participating in the same UEFA club competition.

The Committee for the UEFA Club Competitions had initially ruled that only SK Slavia would take part in the 1998/99 UEFA Cup. Not satisfied with that ruling, on 15 June 1998, AEK Athens and SK Slavia Prague filed a request for arbitration with CAS and simultaneously sought interim relief which was given, allowing both clubs to compete in the 1998/99 UEFA Cup. On 20 August 1999 however, the CAS held that the Original Rule was valid and that UEFA could apply the rule moving forward. Given the blow this dealt to ENIC’s football business strategies, on 18 February 2000, ENIC lodged a complaint with the European Commission and argued anew that the UEFA rules were contrary to EU competition law. The Commission was satisfied that the Original Rule was valid in that it sought to protect the integrity of UEFA competitions, rather than to restrict competition, hence seeing no violation of the relevant EU competition laws.

RED BULL CASE[3]

The current rules encapsulated in Article 5 of the UCL Regulations are distinct from the Original Rule in that one of the standards that would render a club unable to participate in a UEFA competition is if an individual or entity is able to exercise by any means a “decisive influence” in the decision-making of more than one club in that competition.

In 2017, RB Salzburg and RB Leipzig had both secured places in the 2017/18 UCL. Not long after, the UEFA General Secretary expressed concern with the Club Financial Control Body (CFCB), and the Adjudicatory Chamber of that body agreed that the clubs had failed to satisfy the criteria set out in the rules. The substantial levels of sponsorship received by Red Bull and certain individuals linked to the decision making of both clubs inter alia, were flagged as reasons for breaching the threshold.

However, and following some quite deliberate and specific changes, the CFCB Adjudicatory Chamber accepted compliance reports that RB Salzburg had cut ties with certain individuals, reduced the amount of sponsorship money paid by Red Bull and were satisfied that a cooperation agreement between the two clubs had been terminated.  The CFCB Chief withdrew his objection and RB Salzburg and RB Leipzig were admitted to the 2017/18 UCL.

ii)              Member Associations and Motives

Whilst one could simply list the national association’s MCO regulations, the reality is that for the MA’s that have express regulations, they are largely of a similar flavour to that of their Confederation. One might find the varying motivations of MA’s in enacting MCO regulations of more interest. One key feature is that some of the MA’s regulate based on MCO within their own nations, and some concern themselves with MCO even outside of the nation in which the MA governs football. This is where an MA’s motivations are evident.

Scotland

Scotland for instance, regulates MCO via Article 13 of the Articles of Association of the Scottish Football Association and refers to the section as “Dual Interests in Clubs”.[4]  It is understood that Scotland have a high standard when it comes to MCO, so as to ensure that its competition does not become the reserve competition to the English Premier League or another larger league.  With that in mind, one can then understand why Mike Ashley’s attempt to increase an already 8.92% to 29.9% shareholding of Rangers FC was rejected. The Newcastle United owner was not given written permission as is required per Article 13, as he had signed an agreement that he would not own more than 10% of the club and would not exercise influence on the board.

"The Board, under Article 13 of the Scottish FA Articles of Association, is required to have due regard to the need to promote and safeguard the interests and public profile of association football, its players, spectators and others involved with the game. This test is set out in full in Article 13.6."

Italy

Not too long ago, one was free to own more than one club in Italy (i.e. Aurelio De Laurentiis’ ownership of S.S.C. Napoli and S.S.C. Bari), but in recent months MCO in the Italian context has been headline material, with U.S. Salernitana 1919 promoting to the Serie A, a club owned by Claudio Lotito who also owns S.S. Lazio. The newly enacted Article 16 bis of the NOIF FIGC provides that an individual or entity cannot own two or more clubs in Italy, in the same competition.  On Thursday 30 September 2021, the FIGC announced that ownership of more than one professional club would be prohibited, “for those companies that should rise to Lega Pro from the Serie D” (translated), and multi-club owners would need to sell their (other) clubs “by the beginning of the 2024/2025 season”.

The result of this is retroactive in effect and one can reasonably suspect that the legal teams for these wealthy multi-club owners will be instructed to explore all options for a favourable outcome in courtrooms and other relevant decision-making bodies. One can simultaneously hold a view that MCO ought to be regulated, and concede that, when these owners bought these clubs, they did so on the representation that it was legal and they were free to do so. A forced sale as opposed to a willing sale distorts the market and what a willing buyer and willing seller would have otherwise settled on for a purchase price.  Flowing from the above, club owners can expect well below market rate offers, as has been the case reportedly with Salernitana, given they must sell. 

iii)             The Confederations

Most of the MCO regulations of Confederations refer to the concern of jeopardisation of the integrity of a match or competition. The regulations largely capture the substance of Article 20(2) of the FIFA Statutes which will be expanded upon below. For instance, the OFC regulation found at Article 15 (3) of the OFC Statutes, states that  ‘Member Associations shall ensure that no natural or legal person (including holding companies and subsidiaries) exercise third-party control in any manner whatsoever (in particular through a majority shareholding, a majority of voting rights, a majority of seats on the board of directors or any other form of economic dependence or control etc.) over more than one club or group whenever the integrity of any match or competition could be jeopardised.’  One will find almost verbatim, the same provision at Article 12(3) of the CAF Statutes and at Article 17(3) of the CONCACAF Statutes.

There is a distinction to be made however at confederation level, between MCO regulations applying specifically to the MA’s that fall under the Confederations, or to competitions hosted by the Confederation. Given the noise both the ENIC and Red Bull cases made, the most renown MCO regulations are those that apply to UEFA competitions, but consider also how CONMEBOL prohibits multi-club ownership in its competitions. Article 7(f) of the CONMEBOL Statutes provides that natural or legal persons cannot control more than one club. Perhaps an extension, “CONMEBOL’s Club Licensing Regulations establish as a requirement that, to participate in CONMEBOL Libertadores and CONMEBOL Sudamericana tournaments, license applicant clubs must submit a legally valid declaration if one: Owns or trades titles or securities of any other club participating in the same competition; or, b) Owns the majority of the shareholder voting rights of any other club participating in the same competition; or, c) Has the right to appoint or dismiss most of board or management or department members of another participating club in the same competition; or, d) Is a shareholder and controls most of the shareholder voting rights of shareholders in any other club participating in the same competition in accordance with an agreement signed with other shareholders of the relevant club; or, e) Belongs to the leadership structure of any other club participating in the same competition; or, f) Is involved in any quality in the management, administration and/or sporting performance of any other club participating in its competition; or, g) Has any power in the management, administration and/or sporting performance of any other club participating in the same competition.” 

The AFC regulates at both confederation club competition level, and via its club licensing regulations. The Entry Manual of the AFC Club Competitions provides as a condition of entry, at section 9.12: To ensure the integrity of an AFC Club Competition: no participating club may, either directly or indirectly, hold or deal in the securities or shares of any other participating club; be a member of any other participating club; be involved in any capacity whatsoever in the management, administration and/or sporting performance.

Article 19 of the AFC’s Club Licensing Regulations provides that a Licence Applicant must submit a legally valid declaration outlining the ownership structure and control mechanism of the club. These regulations prohibit a natural or legal person involved in the management, administration and/or sporting performance of the club, either directly or indirectly: a) holds or deals in the securities or shares that allows such person to exercise Significant Influence in the activities of any other club participating in the same competition; b) holds a majority of the shareholders’ voting rights of any other club participating in the same competition; c) has the right to appoint or remove a majority of the members of the administrative, management or supervisory body of any other club participating in the same competition; d) is a shareholder and alone Controls a majority of the shareholders’ voting rights of any other club participating in the same competition pursuant to an agreement entered into with other shareholders of the club in question; e) is a member of any other club participating in the same competition; f) is involved in any capacity whatsoever in the management, administration and/or sporting performance of any other club participating in the same competition; and g) has any power whatsoever over the management, administration and/or sporting performance of any other club participating in the same club competition.

When it comes to UEFA, MCO regulation is found throughout the so-called “UEFA Regulatory Framework”.  This includes the UEFA Statutes (Edition 2020), the UEFA competitions regulations, in particular the Regulations of the UEFA Champions League 2018-21 Cycle (2020/21 season) and the Regulations of the UEFA Europa League 2018-21 Cycle (2020/21 season), and the UEFA Club Licensing and Financial Fair play Regulations (Edition 2018).

The UEFA Statutes capture both the objectives of UEFA and the obligations of its MA’s, with a strong emphasis on the frequently referred to concern with MCO - issues of integrity. Then, within The Regulations of the UEFA Champions League, sits at Article 5 - Integrity of the competition / multi-club ownership.  This covers integrity of competition again and sets a criterion in order for a team to be eligible for UEFA competition, much the same flavour of regulation seen throughout the rest of the Confederations regarding ownership and control, but with the all-important test at Art.5 – 5.01(c) (iv)  No individual or legal entity may have control or influence over more than one club participating in a UEFA club competition, such control or influence being defined in this context as: being able to exercise by any means a decisive influence in the decision-making of the club.. 

FIFA reported that as of 2018, just 33 % of MA’s had regulatory provisions for MCO’s. The percentage of MA’s within the Confederations that regulate MCO is as follows:

• Confederation of North, Central America and Caribbean Association Football (CONCACAF) – 19%
• Oceania Football Confederation (OFC) – 22%
  
• Confederation of African Football (CAF) – 22%
• Asian Football Confederation (AFC) – 33%
• South American Football Confederation (CONMEBOL) – 50%
• Union of European Football Associations (UEFA) – 50%

What these figures might uncover is a gap in how serious MCO ought to be taken, between the Confederations and the MA’s, and that the perceived threat MCO posed to the integrity of competitions at the time these MA regulations were enacted was minor. Confederations might want to take a firmer proactive rather than reactive approach with MA’s, given the speed at which the MCO phenomenon has gained momentum. That is if one concludes that MCO regulation ought to lie with the Confederations.

Whilst MCO might not give rise to an issue for many nations (yet), the MCO environment of countries like Mexico, (1/3 of the clubs in the Liga MX are part of a domestic MCO arrangement, to say nothing of those same owners stake and influence in Mexican media and broadcast) where there are regulations in place at both MA and Confederation level, flies in the face of both the Mexican FEMEXFUT regulations and CONCACAF regulations. Might this highlight that FIFA and only FIFA can regulate this practice?

iv)             FIFA & MCO Regulation

FIFA does not expressly regulate MCO, assumingly as clubs are not its direct remit. Though through some interpretative effort, FIFA imposes an obligation on its MA’s to regulate MCO. In the FIFA Statutes at Article 20 (2), “Status of clubs, leagues and other groups of clubs”, it reads:

Every member association shall ensure that its affiliated clubs can take all decisions on any matters regarding membership independently of any external body. This obligation applies regardless of an affiliated club’s corporate structure. In any case, the member association shall ensure that neither a natural nor a legal person (including holding companies and subsidiaries) exercises control in any manner whatsoever (in particular through a majority shareholding, a majority of voting rights, a majority of seats on the board of directors or any other form of economic dependence or control, etc.) over more than one club whenever the integrity of any match or competition could be jeopardised.

Another way of looking at how FIFA may regulate MCO, is an obligation it places on the confederations at Article 23 (g), “Confederations’ Statutes”, it reads: 

The confederations’ statutes must comply with the principles of good governance, and shall in particular contain, at a minimum, provisions relating to the following matters:

(g) regulation of matters relating to refereeing, the fight against doping, club licensing, the imposition of disciplinary measures, including for ethical misconduct, and measures required to protect the integrity of competitions.

As one will notice, the protection of the integrity of competitions does not quite warrant its own sub-section of Article 23, and instead is heaped in with matters such as refereeing and doping. Article 20 might have more clout, but given the influx of MCO and investment in football in modernity, one can reasonably wonder if the regulations suffice.  

Article 20(2) of the FIFA Statutes (formerly Article 18(2)) has been considered to a degree at the Court of Arbitration for Sport. Though where it has, for instance in CAS 2014/A/3523 Club de Fútbol Atlante S.A. de C.V. v. Federación Mexicana de Fútbol (FMF) & Club Atlas F.C., the findings uncover that Article 20(2) cannot be relied upon for clarity, in terms of the jeopardisation MCO poses to the integrity of football matches or competitions.

“The FIFA rule on multiple ownership is not absolute but is based on a case-by-case assessment of the jeopardy caused to the integrity of football matches or competitions. Whether or not the integrity of a match or competition is jeopardised is a very intricate assessment which necessarily must be based on profound knowledge of the match or competition in question.”[5]

Whilst the case is not exclusively about the relevant integrity of competitions article within the FIFA Statutes, the appellant was unable to successfully argue the point that two clubs in the same league belonging to the same owner poses a serious threat to the competition (via the then Article 18(2) of the FIFA Statutes and the identical Article 7(m) of the CONCACAF Statutes) as it was unable to convince the Panel that the integrity of the Liga MX was indeed actually jeopardised.

The CAS in this instance was merely making a decision per its reach, but one struggles to imagine that any football governing body would want to take the position and to regulate so as to suggest that MCO within competitions does not “necessarily” raise integrity issues. Perhaps an extreme analogy, but that would be like concluding that doping is not “necessarily” performance enhancing and a case-by-case intricate assessment is needed to determine whether an advantage was actually attained.  Some threats to integrity require the preventative approach be captured in the regulations and the above case highlights that the articles regarding MCO found in the FIFA Statutes are insufficient and have probably not kept pace with the MCO phenomenon. A further reasonable question one might ponder, is what the reaction to the above case might have been if the clubs were UEFA based?

v)               Concluding remarks and why FIFA must assume MCO Regulations

MCO is a transnational phenomenon with no clear integrated or uniform regulatory framework and rather, a fragmented landscape, as one might reasonably expect when MCO regulation is left to the many Confederations and MA’s.  MCO regulations as they stand may have sufficed in yesteryear when football was not the target of such investment for direct financial return, branding in the case of company investment, or the branding and soft power strategies of nations – evidently the prime motivations for establishing an MCO. 

FIFA regularly offsets the negative news stories it attracts, with reference to growing the game globally. If FIFA is to cash in on the growing the game globally narrative, it surely has an obligation to regulate when that global growth produces integrity issues to football, as is the case with MCO. If one accepts that MCO is a transnational phenomenon and in turn a global issue, and that it does raise concerns in regard to the integrity of football inter alia, then it is difficult to see what body other than FIFA is best positioned to deal with the MCO phenomenon.

There are other reasons of significance as to why this should lie with FIFA as well. For instance, the MCO phenomenon also affects FIFA’s training rewards systems that it has gone to considerable lengths to attempt to fine tune (i.e. the establishment of the Clearing House). With players moving between clubs within the same MCO for free, many transfers will not trigger the trickledown effect they may have otherwise had players transferred for market rates. Another concern for FIFA might be player trading within an MCO being used as accounting tactics to avoid triggering Financial Fair Play issues, rather than a transfer representing the market value of the player.

Player welfare issues also arise, as do employment law questions.  It is already the case that there are clauses in player contracts where a player cannot refuse to be transferred to another club within an MCO if so requested (or demanded), which is in effect an MCO contract, rather than a club contract. Even when clauses of this nature are not inserted within an MCO club player’s contract, there are concerns when players are groomed within an MCO ,given the clubs have considerable time with players and a unique dynamic exists within MCO given common ownership, where a club is incentivised to persuade the player to remain within the group, when the best move, career, financial or otherwise, may be elsewhere. This is an entirely different dynamic to a player weighing up his or her transfer options and seeking professional advice from an agent and/or lawyer.  There are also instances where an MCO has only allowed a move internally and refused a transfer to another club and potentially better option for the player, raising  the ever-recurring freedom of movement questions. These instances are of course rare (for now), but real implications that need attention from football’s global governing body.

The increased globalisation of the game through creations like the UEFA Conference League and FIFA also expanding the Club World Cup, significantly broadens the number of clubs that may face each other, which increasing the risks that MCO presents. The obligations FIFA imposes on its MA’s and Confederations are not observed across the board, and are consequently not sufficient to keep pace with the burgeoning MCO phenomenon. FIFA can no longer simultaneously celebrate the globalisation of football, and defer on definition and regulation downwards in the football pyramid, when it comes to a product of that globalisation; Multi Club Ownership.

[1] I have added to the approximate figure mentioned in the hyperlinked article, to account for some recent acquisitions.

[2] CAS 98/200 AEK Athens and SK Slavia Prague / UEFA & Case COMP/37 806: ENIC / UEFA [2002] Commission

[3] CFCB Adjudicatory Chamber AC-01/2017 RasenBallsport Leipzig GmbH and FC Red Bull Salzburg GmbH

[4] DUAL INTERESTS IN CLUBS 13.1 Except with the prior written consent of the Board:- (a) no club or nominee of a club; and (b) no person, whether absolutely or as a trustee, either alone or in conjunction with one or more associates or solely through an associate or associates (even where such person has no formal interest), who:- (i) is a member of a club; or (ii) is involved in any capacity whatsoever in the management or administration of a club; or (iii) has any power whatsoever to influence the management or administration of a club, may at the same time either directly or indirectly:- (a) be a member of another club; or (b) be involved in any capacity whatsoever in the management or administration of another club; or ARTICLES OF ASSOCIATION 69 (c) have any power whatsoever to influence the management or administration of another club

[5] CAS 2014/A/3523 Club de Fútbol Atlante S.A. de C.V. v. Federación Mexicana de Fútbol (FMF) & Club Atlas F.C., at 88

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

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

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

Relevant findings

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Conclusion

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

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

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

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

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

[2] Ibid

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

[4] Ibid, page 33

[5] Ibid, page 41

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

[7] Ibid, page 90

[8] Ibid, page 91

[9] Ibid, page 91-92

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

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

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

[13] Ibid, pages 98-100

[14] Ibid, page 97

[15] Ibid, pages 104-105

[16] Ibid, page 108