Editor's note: Panagiotis Roumeliotis holds an LL.B. degree from National and Kapodistrian University of Athens, Greece and an LL.M. degree in European and International Tax Law from University of Luxembourg. He is qualified lawyer in Greece and is presently working as tax advisor with KPMG Luxembourg while pursuing, concomitantly, an LL.M. in International Sports Law at Sheffield Hallam University, England. His interest lies in the realm of tax and sports law. He may be contacted by e-mail at ‘p.roumeliotis@hotmail.com’.

Introduction

The landmark Bosman Ruling triggered the Europeanization of the labour market for football players by banning nationality quotas. In turn, in conjunction with the boom in TV revenues, this led to a flourishing transfer market in which players’ agents or intermediaries play a pivotal role, despite having a controversial reputation.

As a preliminary remark, it is important to touch upon the fiduciary duty of sports agents towards their clients. The principal-agent relationship implies that the former employs the agent so as to secure the best employment and/or commercial opportunities. Conversely, the latter is expected to act in the interest of the player as their relationship should be predicated on trust and confidence, as much was made clear in the English Court of Appeal case of Imageview Management Ltd v. Kelvin Jack. Notably, agents are bound to exercise the utmost degree of good faith, honesty and loyalty towards the players.[1]

At the core of this blog lies a comparative case study of the implementation of the FIFA Regulations on working with intermediaries (hereinafter “FIFA RWI”) in eight European FAs covering most of the transfers during the mercato. I will then critically analyze the issues raised by the implementation of the RWI and, as a conclusion, offer some recommendations.

FIFA RWI

In 2015, FIFA sought a new reform of football agents’ activity and adopted regulations on dealing with intermediaries[2] that are defined as “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”.[3]

As solemnly illustrated in the Preamble, their purported aim is to bolster high ethical standards for the relations between clubs, players and third parties as well as enable proper control and transparency as regards player transfers.[4]  In a nutshell, FIFA devolved its regulatory powers to the national federations whereas it will just monitor the regulations’ proper implementation.[5]

Case studies of the national implementation of the RWI in eight countries

The concrete impact of the new RWI can be duly chartered through an examination of European FAs’ implementation (i.e. Belgium, England, France, Germany, Italy, Netherlands, Portugal, and Spain) as Europe possesses by far the biggest transfer market globally.

Registration

The registration process is a conditio sine qua non for agents. Based on a literal interpretation of the RWI, agents’ registration should occur on a transactional basis[6] and it is conferred upon clubs and players to provide to the respective FA the intermediary declaration and representation contract.[7] As FAs are empowered to go beyond the minimum requirements enshrined in FIFA’s RWI[8] in some instances they have implemented different requirements.

Burdensome character

For purposes of tracking and tracing their activity, agents should, subject to signing and filing the so-called “intermediary declaration”, be registered with the FA where they exercise their profession. Ergo, the plethora of administrative rules simultaneously applied constitute glaring obstacles, as they allegedly impede the provision of services on behalf of agents[9] and, on top of that, the enhanced amount of registration fees[10] is burdensome. The net result seems to be that a “fragmented and multi-tiered system”[11] does not seem compatible with EU law. It is more likely than not that by curtailing the development of agents’ business, EU law (i.e. restraint on competition, free movement of services) is infringed.

Lack of qualification assessment 

Apart from France[12], where candidates must sit a written examination and Spain[13], where a personal interview with the respective FA takes place, in principle, such assessments are not considered. 

The self-certification of impeccable reputation does not guarantee the quality of the services rendered by agents and the possession of the requisite skills thereto. In fact, the EU Sectoral Social Dialogue Committee for Professional Football confirmed a decreased quality of said services. The obligation to undertake a serious examination should, a fortiori, be taken seriously into account and put into practice as it will offer guarantees of objectivity and transparency.

Of course one could contradict that agents derive their value from their extensive network of contacts and market knowledge;[14] instead of their education or license. Nevertheless, qualitative criteria need to be set as a condition for eventual registration, as players should only have the option to gravitate towards agents that can deploy them quality services. This is further fortified by the fact that football has become a sophisticated business, whereby complex contracts plausibly require qualified assistance so as to achieve a better protection of players’ rights.[15]

Remuneration

In theory, agents should be entitled to receive remuneration so long as they have brought about the employment contract/transfer agreement for which they have been engaged. The mere introduction of the parties to a contract, without evidence of contribution to said conclusion, is not sufficient[16] as the entitlement to commission crystalizes upon the provision of services.

Reality bears witness to the fact that the recommended 3% benchmark cap inserted in the FIFA RWI[17], albeit being the apple of discord in recent discussions, has not been interpreted by FAs as a “must”. Only 4/8[18] FAs have transposed such recommendation in their domestic RWI while the others[19] have ignored it.

A glance at current numbers proves that, in spite of the recommended cap, agents’ fees have swelled; as from 2013, UEFA clubs have spent 97.2% (i.e. USD 1.54 billion) of the commissions pocketed by intermediaries globally. Going forward, it is indicative that as per the UEFA Report for the FY 2016, the average commission rate amounted to 13% in Belgium, England, Italy and Portugal, 9% in France, 15% in Germany, 12% in the Netherlands and 8% in Spain. The above figures succinctly demonstrate that FIFA’s recommendation has not led to a de facto limitation of the remuneration paid to agents. This is also confirmed by a report for the EC that outlined the increase in agents’ fees following FIFA’s deregulation.

Benchmark cons

Potential low remuneration cap would, unavoidably, incite agents to breach their fiduciary duty and favour their own interests. Exempli gratia, they would rather clinch deals in FAs that contemplate higher commission fees, even if it is contrary to the best interests of their client’s career. Furthermore, reprehensible practices would definitely take place since agents’ commission and players’ remuneration function inversely (i.e. the more agents receive, the less players earn), while it is also likely that agents would be discouraged to provide high quality services.

In the same vein, it could lead to collision with EU law. As a matter of fact, it has already raised EU competition law concerns as some have considered it a disproportionate encroachment on agents’ economic freedom, thus, infringing Articles 101 and 102 TFEU.

Benchmark pros

 On the flip side, I would like to play devil’s advocate going forward. Should the 3% cap on fees apply, this would ward off “agents” whose sole purpose is to make “quick and dirty” money. Therefore, the 3% cap could work as an indirect assessment of the ones who are worth of being agents.

Conflicts of interests 

From the outset of the eventual transaction, players/clubs should endeavor to assure that no conflicts of interest exist.[20] 6 out of 8 FAs[21] have transposed ad litteram the provision stipulating the right of intermediaries to represent multiple parties to a transaction, so long as they have articulated in advance potential conflicts of interest and received written consent by all parties involved. The CSKA Sofia v. Loic Bensaid case could be considered as a precursor to this provision, in which it was stressed that an agent who represents both player and club does not commit fraud so long as he has made the situation transparent to the parties.[22]

In my view, said provision ostensibly solves potential conflicts of interest but de facto goes against agents’ fiduciary duty and ineluctably leads to such conflicts. By way of comment, should an agent represent both the player and the destination club, he would have to act in a neutral manner, which will adversely affect the player’s interests. In order to maintain healthy relationships with the club so as to facilitate future transactions, it is more likely that he will not seek the maximum salary possible for the player. Conversely, should the agent represent both the player and the club of origin, one can easily understand that a higher transfer fee reduces the player’s salary and vice versa.

In my view, with such provision, unwittingly or not, an own-goal has been inflicted as FAs are not incentivized to crack down on potential conflicts of interest. At least, if the French[23]/Portuguese[24] practice is not followed (i.e. dual representation is prohibited), the English model[25] could be an attractive solution. Notably, the possibility to seek independent legal advice should be construed as a necessary requirement that will safeguard players’ sporting/financial interests from being compromised.

Minors

Almost all FAs outlawed payments when the player is a minor.[26] Portugal[27] seems to have applied a more stringent standard (i.e. representation is totally forbidden), while Italy[28] does not stricto sensu prohibit such remuneration.

One might be tempted to conclude that outlawing payments is commendable but such perception is erroneous as the premise behind it goes against the players’ interests:

• Agents not receiving consideration in exchange for their services would most likely not provide the best advice for their client, as, “good advice comes at a price”[29]
• Agents would have a vested interest to tie up youngsters for many years, which might, in turn, work at their expense, as the former might seek to capitalize their investment in the players as soon as they get 18 years old. As submitted, when it comes to minors, unscrupulous agents can go “forum shopping” and seek to conclude a representation contract in the most favorable jurisdiction,[30] i.e. the one that does not limit the duration of said contract.

The foregoing should be read in conjunction with the fact that in modern football there are lots of talented young players with potential to become a bone of contention for agents. Further to this, due account should be taken of the fact that UEFA’s “home grown player rule” and the UEFA Financial Fair Play Regulations push clubs to invest in youngsters and this renders their circulation in the market more common than in the past.

The statistics provided by FIFA ITMS show that minors are the category of players who have most often used an agent, in 17.6% of the concluded international transfers against 15.2% and 14.5% between 18-25 and 26-32 years old, respectively. Therefore, it borders on the absurd that agents cannot be remunerated when engaged in transactions involving minors.

On top of that, higher thresholds ought to have been imposed i.e. the representation contract should have a limited term and for this, a useful inspiration could be derived from the case of Proactive Sports Management v Wayne Rooney, where it was decided that the eight-year image rights representation agreement[31] constituted an unreasonable restraint of trade.

Duration of the Representation Contract

FIFA’s RWI left a normative vacuum by not including a provision on the maximum duration of a representation contract. However, my comparative study shows that 5/8 FAs[32] impose a maximum 2 year term on the representation contract.

Such a limit protects not only the players’ but also the clubs’ interests against potential abuses involved in the engagement of agents for long periods.[33] Furthermore, it avoids conflicts pertaining to restraint of trade as the absence of limits could lead to players being tied to their agent for a disproportionate period of time.

However, since exclusivity (i.e. maximum duration of contract) is not prescribed in FIFA RWI, this could imply that they provide a safe harbor to players not to be contractually bound for a predetermined period of time. As submitted, this grants the players more bargaining power and would, indirectly, force agents to act in the best interests of their clients.[34]

Harmonization at European level

It is crystal clear that multiple national disparities exist in the regulation of agents. Hence, I believe a streamlined uniform regulatory framework is needed at the European level and, as such, could be put in place by UEFA’s FAs.

FAs Partnership

As football’s transfer money and underlying intermediaries’ commission fees are mostly concentrated in Europe, it should be underscored that consolidated RWI at the level of all European FAs would provide a more potent regulatory space and countervail “FIFA’s regulatory relinquishment”.

As FIFA switched the onus to FAs, some of them could come together and become embroiled in enforcing an enhanced monitoring system and stricter conditions of access to the profession. This has also been supported by the EU Sectoral Social Dialogue Committee for Professional Football, which formulated that such harmonized European policy is the desirable next step for a better regulatory oversight of agents. Such partnership could be a laudable response to the calls for a centralized and harmonized mandatory licensing system. It should be done in cooperation with the EFAA, so as to take into account the agents’ perspective and likely facilitate adherence to the regulations.

In this respect, it would be prudent to follow the examples of other Sports Associations. For example, FIBA when formulating effective regulations pertaining to agents promoted harmonization while involving the agents through consultation of AEBA. Pursuant to the latest EC Report, the National Basketball Players Association (“NBPA”) Regulations could also be considered as an example to follow, as they enhance the “professionalization” of agents and are based on a mandatory licensing system while setting accomplished higher education as an indispensable condition. The NFL, on the other side of the Atlantic, is also an interesting example as it requires a university degree or sufficient negotiating experience of minimum 7 years.

As it is generally felt that the agents’ business is “unethical, complex and deceptive”, thus stringent conditions should be imposed to enter the profession. A qualitative selection process is indispensable. Players must be able to rely on agents equipped with the necessary skills and knowledge. FAs should look back at the Piau case where the compulsory licensing system was duly endorsed as legitimate by the then Court of First Instance of the EU, inter alia, on the basis that it was necessary to introduce “professionalism and ethical standards to protect players whose careers are short”.

UEFA

On a separate note, UEFA, as it claims to operate in a spirit of consensus with all its stakeholders, has to be the leading frontrunner of a harmonised regulation. In the framework of Article 165 TFEU and UEFA’s conditional supervised autonomy[35], this could be done in dialogue with the EC that possesses coordination competence with regard to sport, so as to ensure that potential new regulations can resist challenges on grounds of restraint of trade and alleged infringements of EU law. The Arrangement for Cooperation signed by the UEFA and EC earlier in February 2018 could be a good starting point going forward.

Conclusions

It is unequivocal that FIFA’s RWI advent has had as a main repercussion the deregulation of the industry, or better put, the granting of autonomy to the FAs to regulate said industry using the minimum standards as the cornerstone. The case study, though, evidences that important disparities exist between crucial provisions of the various European FAs’ RWI, which leads to compounding practical and ethical problems and to higher risks of forum shopping. 

It is forthwith conspicuous that such disparities create challenges, which could be duly faced, first and foremost, by accepting that agents are inherent to the mercato and, as previously alluded, by taking account of their fiduciary duty. Ergo, it is contingent upon European FAs, in the framework of UEFA, to cooperate so as to adopt a robust unified regime that will bring forward sweeping and streamlined changes to the profession. To do so, agents’ should be consulted and respected, as in the modern era of professional football, “they are the oil that keeps the wheels of international football in motion.”[36]

[1] WALTER T. CHAMPION, “Attorneys Qua Sports Agents: An Ethical Conundrum” (1997) 7 Marquette Sports Law Journal 349, 350.

[2] The term “agent” will be used, as it constitutes the international jargon.

[3] 2015 FIFA RWI, Definition of an intermediary.

[4] 2015 FIFA RWI, Preamble.

[5] 2015 FIFA RWI, Article 10.

[6] JUAN DE DIOS CRESPO and PAOLO TORCHETTI, “Limiting intermediaries’ fees and enhancing fiduciary duty” [2018] World Sports Advocate 11, 12.

[7] 2015 FIFA RWI, Articles 3 and 6(1).

[8] 2015 FIFA RWI, Preamble.

[9] JUAN DE DIOS CRESPO and PAOLO TORCHETTI, “FIFA’s new Regulations on Working with Intermediaries” [2015] Football Legal 36.

[10] Annex 11 to the URBSFA Regulations, Article 4 [1.3]; The FA website, Intermediaries Registration [online]. Available at: http://www.thefa.com/football-rules-governance/policies/intermediaries/intermediaries-registration [accessed on 1 May 2018]; Code du Sport, Article L.222-7; FIGC, Regolamento per i Servizi di Procuratore Sportivo, Art. 4(1), 4(3) and 5; KNVB Regulations, Article 2(6); PFF Regulations, Article 7(2); RFEF Regulations, Article 7.

[11] JUAN DE DIOS CRESPO and PAOLO TORCHETTI, “FIFA’s new Regulations on Working with Intermediaries” [2015] Football Legal 37; ORNELLA DESIREE BELLIA “FIFA Regulations on Working with Intermediaries: Analysis from the perspective of the clubs” in MICHELE COLUCCI (ed) The FIFA Regulations on Working with Intermediaries, Implementation at National Level (2^nd ed., International Sports Law and Policy Bulletin 1/2016) 57-66, 59.

[12] Code du Sport, Article L.222-7.

[13] RFEF Regulations, Article 4.

[14] IAN LYNAM and JONATHAN ELLIS, “Players’ Agents”, in ADAM LEWIS QC and JONATHAN TAYLOR (eds), Sports: Law and Practice (3rd edition, BLOOMSBURY 2016), 1418 – 1478, 1420.

[15] SALEH ALOBEILDI, “FIFA’s RWI – Historical overview” [2015] Football Legal 30.

[16] CAS 2006/A//1019 G. v. O., award of 5 December 2006 (anonymized) [11].

[17] 2015 FIFA RWI, Article 7(3).

[18] Annex 11 to the URBSFA Regulations, Article 8 [3]; FA Regulations, Rule C (11); FIGC, Regolamento per i Servizi di Procuratore Sportivo, Art. 6; KNVB Regulations, Article 8(6).

[19] Code du Sport, Article L. 222-17 ; DFB Regulations, Section 7.1-7.2; PFF Regulations, Article 11 ; In Spain no remuneration cap has been prescribed.

[20] 2015 FIFA RWI, Article 2(2).

[21] Annex 11 to the URBSFA Regulations, Article 9 [3]; FA Regulations, Rule E (2) a-c; DFB Regulations, Article 8; FIGC, Regolamento per i Servizi di Procuratore Sportivo, Art. 7; KNBV Regulations, Article 4; RFEF Regulations, Article 12.

[22] CAS 2012/A/2988, PFC CSKA Sofia v. Loic Bensaid (award of 14 June 2013) paras 74, 82 and 101.

[23] Code du Sport, Article L.222-17.

[24] PFF Regulations, Article 5(3).

[25] FA Regulations, Rule E (2) d.

[26] Annex 11 to the URBSFA Regulations, Article 8 [8]; FA Regulations, Art. C (10) ; Code du Sport, Article L.222-5; DFB Regulations, Art. 7.7; KNVB Regulations, Article 8(7); RFEF Regulations, Article 10.

[27] PFF Regulations, Article 5(4); The Physical Activity and Sports Basic Law (“PASBL”) or Law no. 5/2007, Article 37(2).

[28] SALVATORE CIVALE and MICHELE COLUCCI, “The FIGC Regulations on Intermediaries” in MICHELE COLUCCI (ed) The FIFA Regulations on Working with Intermediaries, Implementation at National Level (2^nd ed., International Sports Law and Policy Bulletin 1/2016) 329-338, 335.

[29] JEAN-MICHEL MARMAYOU, “EU Law and Principles applied to FIFA Regulations” in MICHELE COLUCCI (ed) The FIFA Regulations on Working with Intermediaries, Implementation at National Level (2^nd ed., International Sports Law and Policy Bulletin 1/2016) 75-112, 91.

[30] ROBERTO BRANCO MARTINS, “FIFA’s RWI – Agents’ perspective” [2015] Football Legal 50.

[31] The judge supported his argumentation by making reference to the obsolete FIFA Regulations, which stipulated that representation contracts were limited to a maximum two-year term, attaching to said agreement a unique character.

[32] FA Regulations, Art. B (10); FIGC, Regolamento per i Servizi di Procuratore Sportivo, Art. 5; PFF Regulations, Article 9(2) §c; RFEF Regulations, Article 8(4).

[33] CAS 2008/A/1665, J. v. Udinese Calcio S.p.A, (award of 19 May 2009) para 54.

[34] WIL VAN MEGEN, “The FIFA Regulations on Intermediaries: The players’ point of view” in MICHELE COLUCCI (ed) The FIFA Regulations on Working with Intermediaries, Implementation at National Level (2^nd ed., International Sports Law and Policy Bulletin 1/2016) 67-74, 74.

[35] BORJA GARCIA, “Sport governance after the White Paper: the demise of the European model?” (2009) 1:3 International Journal of Sport Policy 267; It was firstly stated in the Meca-Medina case [47]: “restrictions imposed by sports federations must be limited to what is necessary to ensure the proper conduct of competitive sport”.

[36] ROBERTO BRANCO MARTINS and GREGOR REITER, “Players’ Agents: Past, Present … Future?” (2010) 1-2 The International Sports Law Journal 7.

Editor’s Note: Emre Bilginoglu[1] is an attorney in Istanbul and the co-founder of the Turkish E-Sports Players Association, a non-profit based in Istanbul that aims to provide assistance to professional gamers and to work on the relevant laws affecting them. 

The world is witnessing the rise of a new sport that is growing at an incredible speed: E-Sports. We are only starting to understand its legal implications and challenges.

In recent years, E-Sports has managed to attract thousands of fans to arenas to see a group of people play a video game. These people are literally professional gamers (cyber athletes)[2] who make money by competing in tournaments. Not all video games have tournaments in which professional players compete against each other.

The most played games in E-Sports competitions are League of Legends (LoL), Defense of the Ancients 2 (DotA 2) and Counter-Strike: Global Offensive (CS:GO). LoL and DotA are both Multiplayer online battle arena (MOBA) games, a genre of strategy video games in which the player controls a single character in one of two teams. The goal of the game is to destroy the opponent’s main structure. CS:GO is a first-person shooter (FPS) game, a genre of video games where the player engages combat through a first-person perspective. The main objective in CS:GO is to eliminate the opposing team or to terrorize or counter-terrorize, planting bombs or rescuing hostages. Other games that have (popular) E-Sports competitions include Starcraft II (real time strategy), Hearthstone (collectible card video game), Call of Duty (FPS) and FIFA (football).

The gaming requires cooperation between team players, a high level of concentration, rapid reactions and some seriously fast clicking. E-Sports is a groovy term to describe organized competitive computer gaming. The E-Sports industry is exponentially growing, amounting to values expressed in billions of dollars. According to Newzoo, a website dedicated to the collection of E-Sports data, there are some 250 million occasional viewers of E-Sports with Asia-Pacific accounting for half of the total amount. The growth of the industry is indubitably supported by online streaming media platforms. This article aims to explain what E-Sports is and to give the readers an insight on the key legal questions raised by it. 

Is E-Sports a Sport?

The introductory legal question regarding E-Sports is whether it is a sport. There are different definitions of “sport”. According to the Council of Europe, “sport” means all forms of physical activity which, through casual or organised participation, aim at expressing or improving physical fitness and mental well-being, forming social relationships or obtaining results in competition at all levels.

SportAccord a non-profit association which is composed of autonomous and independent international sports federations and other international organisations contributing to sport in various fields, also offers a definition of sport. According to this definition, sport:

1) includes an element of competition;

2) does not rely on any element of “luck” specifically integrated into the sport;

3) does not pose an undue risk to the health and safety of its athletes or participants;

4) is in no way harmful to any living creature;

5) and does not rely on equipment that is provided by a single supplier.

Sport categories designated by SportAccord are primarily: physical sports (e.g. basketball); mind sports (e.g. chess); motorized sports (e.g. motorcycle racing); coordination sports (e.g. snooker); and animal-supported sports (e.g. equestrianism).

SportAccord also states that activities with limited physical or athletic activity would be carefully considered. E-Sports indeed involves a limited physical activity. The professional gamer generally sits in front of a designated computer. However, at this point it is important to highlight the existence of multiplayer video games that involve a considerable amount of physical activity. Home video game consoles that detect movement were released in early 2000s, paving the way for true E-Sports cyber athletes in the near future. Until now however, games that require physical activity have not been played at a professional level.

Having said this, E-Sports does involve a clear element of competition, does not rely only on luck, does not pose an undue risk to the health and safety of its competitors and is not harmful to any living creature. At some point, it does rely on equipment that is provided by a single supplier, as the subject game that is played is in general produced by a single supplier. In other words, E-Sports clearly complies with the remaining criteria (2 to 5) suggested to be defined as a “sport”.

Even though there are a myriad of multiplayer games, one mostly categorizes E-Sports as a primarily mind and coordinated sport. It does not require lots of physical activities except for very fast finger movement. A similar sport is chess. It is challenging to oppose the argument of David Papineau, professor of philosophy of science at King’s College London, who, as regards chess, said that “(t)he activity is playing a game, therefore it is not a sport but a game”. However, chess is a strategy board game and at the same time it is an organized sport with an international governing body, namely FIDE.

Can E-Sports Be an Olympic Sport?
The International Olympic Committee (IOC) is the supreme authority of the Olympic movement. The IOC decides which sports are included in the Olympic Games. Choices of the IOC always bring forth discussions and debates in the sports community. Some sports are discontinued and some are re-introduced. Wrestling was announced to be dropped from the 2020 Olympic Games in 2020, but was reinstated seven months after losing its place. Even though wrestling is one of the founding sports of the Olympics, the IOC could have removed it from the Olympic Games. The IOC recently reinstated baseball and softball, and added skateboarding -, karate, climbing and surfing- to the sports programme for the Olympic Games in Tokyo 2020. Therefore, it is possible to say that popularity is one of the crucial elements for a sport to be included to the Olympic Games. Chess, led by FIDE, is attempting to be an Olympic Sport. Although the attempt for Tokyo 2020 was not successful, things may change in the future.

In my opinion, E-Sports can very well be regarded as an Olympic sport in the near future. Whatever game that is played on a professional level, may be regarded as its discipline. The crucial setback is the perishability of games. Video games become “obsolete” with time. This is especially the case with sports games. Squads and the game play changes every season. That is one of the reasons why FIFA releases a new video game every single year. Therefore, video games such as FIFA are unlikely to make it to the top E-Sports games awarding prize money.

What type of Governance for E-Sports ?

The formation of a single internationally recognized E-Sports federation would be a first step in a long journey to reach the Olympics. Currently however, several international E-Sports organizations exist.

In South Korea, where E-Sports is what football is to Brazil, the South Korean E-Sports Association was founded in 2000. The Association regulates the working conditions of cyber athletes. The highest earnings in E-Sports by countries are listed as: China, the United States, South Korea, Sweden and Canada. As for international associations, three of them need to be mentioned.

First, there is the World E-Sports Association (WESA), founded in 2016 by a group of E-Sports teams and ESL (i.e. largest video game event company in the world). WESA aims to professionalize the industry, regulating matters regarding revenues and schedules. WESA even has an internal arbitration court, namely WESA Arbitration Court. It operates independently from WESA and is open to everyone involved in E-Sports, such as players, teams, organizers and publishers.

The second is the International e-Sports Federation (IeSF), an international organization based in Seoul, South Korea. A total of 46 nations are member of the IeSF. It has listed seven objectives in its Statute, the first one being as follows: to “constantly improve e-Sports and promote it in the light of its values - humanitarian, educational, cultural, unity of purpose and ability to promote peace”. IeSF is a signatory of the World Anti-Doping Code (WADC). ESL also endorsed the WADC and conducts doping tests on cyber athletes. Stimulants- drugs that improve reaction time and concentration are prohibited.

The third association worth mentioning is the International eGames Committee (IEGC), a non-profit E-Sports organization, supported by the government of the United Kingdom. It aims to positively shape the future of competitive gaming.

In my view, countries that seek to be a part of the E-Sports world should establish their own national federations and apply to IeSF. IeSF should collaborate with WESA, which is founded by the most significant organizations in the industry. IeSF is capable of growing into an internationally recognized authority that is in charge of international competitions between national teams, whereas WESA would be in charge of all competitions between clubs.

E-Sports and Free Speech
Since there is a certain amount of (virtual) killing and planting bombs involved, some games are not suitable for children. Deciding who can play which game is up to certain institutions around the world. One of them is Pan European Game Information (PEGI). PEGI is the age rating system for video games in Europe, Israel and Quebec. The Entertainment Software Rating Board (ESRB) is another institution providing an age rating system for video games, this time for North America. PEGI and ESRB standards are generally not legally binding. PEGI standards are legally enforced in few jurisdictions, one being the United Kingdom. Another example is Austria. In Austria, protection of minors are implemented by states. Two of the nine states, Vienna and Carinthia, legally adopted PEGI standards.

California passed a law that prohibited the sale of certain video games to minors. It was struck down by the U.S. Supreme Court. The Supreme Court ruled that video games were protected speech under the First Amendment.[3] The Supreme Court had its own reasons, such as “Psychological studies purporting to show a connection between exposure to violent video games and harmful effects on children do not prove that such exposure causes minors to act aggressively.” or “This country has no tradition of specially restricting children’s access to depictions of violence.”

E-Sports and IP Law
Apart from constitutional law, video games can be subject to other fields of the law. Intellectual property law is one of such fields. For example, DotA is a fan-made custom map originated with Warcraft III, a strategy video game created by Blizzard Entertainment. It was not a separate game until published by Valve Corporation as Dota 2. Blizzard sought to prevent registration by its competitor Valve of the trademark Dota by resorting to the United States Patent and Trademark Office. Subsequently, Blizzard and Valve reached a settlement agreement and Valve went on to publish Dota 2.

Playing Dota 2 is free of charge and Valve speedily hosted its first competition in 2011, with a prize pool of 1.6 million dollars. The International became an annual Dota 2 E-Sports tournament. The prize pool for the tournament in 2016 was approximately 20 million dollars. The team Wings Gaming of China completed the tournament in first place and was awarded 9.1 million dollars. The final was viewed by almost 6 million spectators. Dota 2 tournaments have awarded a total prize money of approximately 90 million dollars so far. League of Legends took the second place with 36 million dollars, followed by Counter Strike: GO (nearly 27 million dollars) and Starcraft II (nearly 22 million dollars). 

E-Sports Clubs, Athletes and the Law
The E-Sports teams that participate in these kind of high level competitions have different rosters for different games. They are starting to become more and more important business entities with their superstar players. The teams are mainly sponsored by tech firms, consumer electronics companies, gaming equipment producers, web hosting companies, automobile manufacturers, energy drinks manufacturers and business people who dream of owning a sports team but who cannot afford to acquire a professional football club. Football clubs themselves are also keen on forming their own E-Sports club, not only limited to football games. PSG (FIFA, LoL, Starcraft, CS, Call of Duty and Hearthstone) Schalke 04 (LoL) and Manchester City (FIFA) have already signed their own E-Sports players. Besiktas was the first football club in the world to form an E-Sports team in 2015. Fenerbahce has also entered the arena in 2016 and will be competing in the upcoming Turkish League of Legends season with a roster of accomplished players. As for football, FIFA and EA Sports organise the FIFA Interactive World Cup 2017. FIFA announced that the winning prize would be 200 thousand dollars.

High level cyber athletes are mostly men. However, the industry is trying to tackle gender discrimination and promote women cyber athletes. Cyber athletes sign contracts with their teams and sometimes receive salaries from video game developers. The developer of League of Legends, Riot Games chooses to pay salaries to competitors. Cyber athletes may want to make some extra money by streaming on online platforms, an important issue while drafting a contract. Therefore, E-Sports concerns both labor law and contract law. It also concerns criminal law, as there have been several incidents of betting-related match-fixing in E-Sports. In one such case, the manager of a LoL club was inciting his players to lose against big teams, claiming that the organizers would kick them out of the league should they win. The players allegedly did so, believing their manager. In the end, the manager was found to be betting against his own team, which finished the season with no wins. A player of the team attempted suicide, leaping off a building. Fortunately, he survived. In another case, a Dota 2 player placed a bet against his own team in a major event and won $322. “322” is now a nickname for players who deliberately fail in a game.

In Turkey, where I practice law, E-Sports players became athletes licensed by the “Federation of Developing Sports”, established by the Sports Ministry. There are about three thousand licensed players. The level of professionalism in elite clubs is surprising, and they are actually pretty successful in international tournaments. Space Soldiers (CS:GO), SuperMassive (LoL) are followed by tens of thousands of fans, even though they were founded only a few years ago.

The primary concern of the athletes and their families in general is the lack of opportunities after their brief but intense careers. Successful cyber athletes require a superordinate level of reactions and excellent reflexes. These attributes become slower with time. Consequently, cyber athletes are usually active between the ages 18-23. It is arduous for them to find time to study, as they need at least eight hours of training per day. National legislators around the world should also focus on devising E-Sports regulations, as more and more professional contracts are being signed. Cyber athletes are transferred from clubs to other clubs as in any other sport and foreign cyber athletes may encounter problems regarding their visas. France recently tackled the legal vacuum and granted a specific legal status for cyber athletes.

Conclusion
Call it a sport or not, E-Sports is growing exponentially. It is an industry worth billions and watched by millions. Although the industry is a commercial success, there are still lots of legal issues to tackle. These legal issues fall within the scope of various fields of law causing lawyers to work on improving their respective national laws.

Transfers of cyber athletes, drafting contracts for cyber athletes and the resolution of contractual disputes are some of the key issues, as well as tackling doping and match-fixing, intellectual property rights, broadcasting rights in particular, and the exploitation of minors or professional gamers. WESA and IeSF are significant international organizations that can endeavor on unifying E-Sports regulations and tackling legal problems faced by the players and the clubs.

The 21st century will offer more new games to play. Considering the current growth in the industry, I would dare predict that the industry will be worth hundreds of billions in the near future. I would recommend the countries and E-Sports governing bodies leading the industry to work together and bring forth certain essential regulations. This would also benefit game developers, as their games and gamers would find a place in the industry on a legal basis. I would also suggest the industry to incite women cyber athletes and facilitate their involvement in professional competitions, so that possible instances of discrimination are proactively precluded.

[1] Nurettin Emre Bilginoglu, LLM, Attorney-at-law - Istanbul, Turkey.  E-mail: emre@caglayanyalcin.com.

[2] Although there is no precise definition of a “professional E-Sports player”, the approach of FIFA could be deemed applicable by analogy. According to Article 2 of FIFA Regulations on the Status and Transfer of Players, a professional is a player who has a written contract with a club and is paid more for his footballing activity than the expenses he effectively incurs. In E-Sports, certain players are paid more for their gaming activities than the expenses they incur.

[3] Brown v. Entertainment Merchants Association, 564 U.S. 786 (2011).

Editor’s note: Rhys Lenarduzzi recently completed a Bachelor of Law (LL.B) and Bachelor of Philosophy (B.Phil.) at the University of Notre Dame, Sydney, Australia. As a former professional athlete, then international sports agent and consultant, Rhys is interested in international sports law, policy and ethics. He is currently undertaking an internship at the T.M.C. Asser Institute with a focus on Transnational Sports Law.

As one may have gathered from the series thus far, the question that comes out of this endeavour for me, is whether redistribution in football would be better divorced from the transfer system?

In my introductory blog I point towards historical, cultural, and of course the legal explanations as to why redistribution was established, and why it might be held onto despite obvious flaws. In my second blog, I point out how the training compensation and solidarity mechanisms work in practice through an African case study, as well as the hindrance caused and the Eurocentricity of the regulations. The key take-away from my third blog on the non-application of training compensation in women’s football might be that training compensation should apply to both men’s and women’s football, or neither. The sweeping generalisation that men’s and women’s football are different as justification for the non-application to the women’s game is not palatable, given inter alia the difference between the richest and poorest clubs in men’s football. Nor is it palatable that the training compensation mechanism is justified in men’s football to incentivise training, yet not in women’s football.

In the fourth blog of this series, I raise concerns that the establishment of the Clearing House prolongs the arrival of a preferable alternative system. The feature of this final blog is to consider alternatives to the current systems. This endeavour is manifestly two-fold; firstly, are there alternatives? Secondly, are they better? 

1. Is training compensation necessary to incentivise training?

It might be the case that this question does not receive adequate attention. Though we are told there exists a need to incentivise training and the system as it stands is justified by this notion, is that truly what the redistributive mechanisms in the current form achieve? Furthermore, for all the flaws in reasoning and hindrance created by the mechanisms, is it really worth it?

During my time as an agent, I have personally never heard from a director or executive of a football club, the words or sentiment that, time - effort - money placed towards their youth football programs is done so solely, predominantly, or at all in anticipation of training compensation or solidarity payments.  Nor have I ever come across the sentiment from within any club, that a club would not care for or abandon its youth programs without the ‘dangling carrot’ of potential compensation. FIFA now refer to the redistributive mechanisms as ‘training rewards’, though one may reasonably struggle to connect these training rewards with a true definition of incentive. It appears more likely to be the case that any desire or expectation to be rewarded or compensated is an after the fact conclusion, when a player progresses professionally and a training club concludes that they are part of the reason for that players’ success. In a macro sense, given how infrequent it is for a training club to develop a professional, this seems to add weight to an argument that compensation does not create the purported incentive, or at least that clubs do not rely on the prospect.  It is because of this that I tend to lean towards the view that the incentivisation to train youth as a justification for redistributive measures may not have aged well. In any event, it would be interesting to test that intuition derived from experience, through a proper social scientific survey of clubs. Systems with such far-reaching implications should be grounded in a proper study of the socio-economic drivers of the training of football players.

On the other hand, the possibility of attracting large and exciting transfer fees is often spoken about within club walls.  For these ‘selling clubs’ with a clear intention to invest in youth and capitalise later in the form of transfer fees, such fees may be seen as compensation of sorts, but more likely as a remuneration for a deliberate though hardly risk-free investment. Moreover, these clubs do not simply abandon their first team and focus on youth and potential transfers exclusively. First team squads are also the beneficiary of strong youth systems and commonly the main reason a club invests in youth. Additionally, clubs can have a strong connection to their communities and see a combined duty and benefit of having strong youth programs. Clubs not only play a role in sustaining the social fabric of the communities to which they are situated, but benefit commercially through the many ways in which fans add value.

If it is true that compensation does not amount to incentivisation, then it is difficult to conclude that it is necessary. However, even if training compensation and the solidarity mechanism are not deemed necessary, a strong case can still be made for redistribution so long as the gap between wealthy and poor clubs remains or grows, and entire continents continue to be nurseries and the source of the muscle drain.

2. Imagining Alternative Redistributive Mechanisms

Proposing an alternative to the existing FIFA systems of redistribution is a difficult task. I have raised the concern of the Eurocentricity of the current regulations, and in proposing something else, one must be mindful that these are global regulations. If one suggests a form of taxation or tariff to redistribute, awareness of the myriad cultural differences on taxation and the multiplicity of enforcement contexts might be important. Also, whilst I have raised the question on whether compensation ought to be divorced from the transfer system, reasons for redistributing at all should be axiomatically better than not having a system of redistribution.

Intent and what is to be achieved needs to be clear. Is the ideal system of redistribution in place to reward ‘something’ or should redistribution be directed more deliberately and where it is needed, acting as welfare of a kind? I have already suggested that compensation does not incentivise clubs, though conversely, might clubs be disincentivised to grow if they only remain the beneficiaries of redistribution insofar as they stay sufficiently small and poor, whatever that threshold might be? Or could a system still incentivise growth, with clubs the beneficiaries of an amount that would not be enough to sustain themselves in full, yet enough to help them to continue to grow and commercialise? Whether greater commercialisation is a desirable change is another worthwhile question.

Despite the difficulties in suggesting an alternative, one can hope that a system of redistribution can be non-discriminative, does not create the hindrance effect to the current extent or encourage risky circumvention of the regulations (see blog 2 for detail), and is able to attain its legitimate aims. I would submit that the current systems do not tick these boxes. In this section, I provide some food for thought regarding potential alternatives, though I must caveat that I am not an economist and have not yet settled on an alternative myself.

a)     Coubertobin Tax

I will begin this section by introducing Andreff’s Coubertobin tax, in the interest of highlighting that others have thought about alternative systems of redistribution and have perhaps proposed alternatives that are arguably better than the current systems. Whilst I hope to present the Coubertobin tax adequately, one will need to read Andreff for the full picture.  Though valuable food for thought, I do not endorse the Coubertobin tax per se, as it has its flaws and remains connected to the transfer system, albeit to a lesser extent.

Inspired by a mix of the economic thought of James Tobin and Pierre de Coubertin, the idea of a Coubertobin tax “is to levy a tax at a 1 % rate on all transfer fees and initial wages agreed on in each labour contract signed by athletes and players from developing countries with foreign partners.”[1]

The objectives are as follows:

1. slightly covering the education and training cost, for his/her home developing country, of any athlete or player transferred abroad;
2. providing a stronger disincentive to transfer an athlete or a player from a developing country, the younger he/she is when the transfer takes place;
3. thus, slowing down the muscle drain from developing countries and toward professional player markets in developed countries; and
4. accruing revenues to a fund for sports development in the home developing country from the tax levied on every athlete or player transfer abroad.[2]

There is little wonder why Andreff desires to redistribute to developing countries. He has done extensive work on the correlation between economic prosperity and sporting success. This list is by no means exhaustive, but for instance, he writes extensively on the muscle drain, where athletes from developing nations move for financial and developmental reasons, which creates a myriad of follow-on issues to the home-country. He identifies the toll poverty takes on a developing country’s domestic leagues and competitions due to the muscle drain and the inability to train professionals to a world class standard. He notes that some athletes defect to other nations early and qualify for the adopted country’s national team. Per Andreff and in summary “the overall context of sport underdevelopment does not provide a strong incentive for talented players to stay in their home country even if a professional championship does exist there.”[3]

Andreff’s proposal is not set in stone and an admirable element to his work on the matter is the consistent offering of caveats that suggest, with more study and/or work, a certain piece of the Coubertobin system may benefit from amendment. Andreff describes his system as “a solution (not a panacea) which is likely to alleviate, along with some of the financial problems of developing countries, the aforementioned problem of the muscle drain.”[4] Most relevant is perhaps the idea that, the younger the player is in question regarding a transfer, the higher the tax (see suggested formulae).[5] This he submits, may put a brake on the muscle drain at such early ages, or result in greater amounts of money moved to developing nations if a club wishes to recruit a player at a significantly young age.

Andreff acknowledges hindrances, though takes a macro view that encompasses protecting minors, as well as strengthening local leagues in developing countries given the talent will remain for longer periods. One can envisage an additional positive result, in having young athletes finish non-football education having stayed at home until a later date.

Though this is my interpretation, I suspect Andreff finds it an easy task to identify the beneficiaries or winners of these transactions and therefore those parties should be the ones who pay the Coubertobin tax, on “the bill for the transfer fee and the first year wage”.[6]

Andreff raises the concern of “bargaining and corruption surrounding the tax collection in developing countries”,[7] though offers a plausible solution. “[T]he collection of the Coubertobin tax should be monitored and supervised by an international organization, either an existing one (UNDP or the World Bank) or an ad hoc one to be created.”[8] This is plausible as it is not so different to the way FIFA intends to outsource the operation of the Clearing House to a suitable and reputable organisation that would be subject to audit (see blog 4).

Andreff admits the tax “would meet with both hindrance and resistance”,[9] it would “not be easy to implement and enforce insofar as it has to be accepted on a worldwide basis”,[10] the system would contain administrative costs that would need sorting and ironing out, and there would need to be a method for disputes and perhaps fines for non-compliance.  Even so, the Coubertobin tax provides much food for thought as it is proposed for all professional sport and not just football. It attempts to address the muscle drain and the taxes proposed may prove less a hindrance than the current FIFA systems.

b)    Abolishment and Free Market Economics

If this was day one of football, there might be a strong argument for a free market approach, with emphasis on club management to make sure intelligent decisions are made to sustain clubs, with wealth the responsibility of the clubs themselves. However, we are not at the beginning of football.  Certain clubs in certain regions are the victims of much more than mismanagement, adding weight to an argument for a need to redistribute equitably.

As it stands, an equitable system or one where redistribution is directed to where it is most needed, is not in place and has not been proposed. Could it be the case, at least in the interim, that the free market is the best and fairest? The current systems appear at least somewhat a case of over-regulation with side effects that were not, or could not have been anticipated, like the hindrance effect and the pressures on vulnerable clubs to waive compensation to name just a couple.  It then seems defensible to abolish systems that do not work in the interim, than to hang on to those flawed systems until a better proposal is put forth. Instead, all efforts could be placed into study and research to remedy the obvious flaws.

Conversely, the free market in modern football would not appear to improve the situation for the kind of club I have identified frequently throughout this series, and although it may eliminate the hindrance effect, destination clubs would have their pick of players and poor clubs would undoubtedly lose all talent. Furthermore, if a system of redistribution was to be created that clearly improved football and the free-market approach had been adopted in the interim, a valid consideration might be the difficulty the relevant bodies would have in re-introducing a system of redistribution, having gone back to the free market for a period.  It is for these reasons that I can not endorse such an approach, however sympathetic I am to abolishment and the idea of alleviating hindrance and promoting free movement.

c)     FIFA Funded Solidarity: A New Model

As he addressed the Confederation of African Football’s (CAF) 42nd ordinary general assembly, FIFA President Gianni Infantino said, “I believe in Africa. I count on Africa, and you can count on me to help you to bring Africa to the top.” However admirable and applaudable are the purported goals of FIFA for Africa, and the sentiment warm, one cannot help but wonder if this African project, relevant to this blog series, could not be expedited by a substantial FIFA based investment. Infantino went on to say, “I want to see at least 50 national teams and 50 clubs from all over the world that can compete for the title of world champions with realistic chances of winning. And why shouldn’t Africa be at the top, with the incredible talent that we see shining every week, mainly in Europe’s top clubs? I am convinced it’s only a matter of commitment, work and engagement by all of us together.”

To answer the President’s question, one cannot see African clubs on top in a global sense, so long as all the best African players play, as the President said, in Europe. Further, we will continue to be less likely to see an African national team win a World Cup, whilst some of the best African players play for other nations to which they moved when they were younger, and whilst African federations are unable to organise like European federations, given they do not have the same resources.  I could of course go on, but one likely gathers my point. 

So, could FIFA make an investment sufficient to prop up Africa as it supposedly desires? Perhaps. How about an amount equal to the frequently referred gap between what is owed and paid when it comes to the redistributive mechanisms of FIFA? Could FIFA at least cover that gap? If one considers the annual financial reports, certainly, and probably further and in a more specific and deliberate fashion. Surely direct, targeted investment is preferable to leaving redistribution to the whim of a club’s good fortune to have registered a player that would go on to be a professional. That is, of course, if that player’s club did not have to waive training compensation to render a transfer possible.

The FIFA Forward Development Programme is described by FIFA as “global football development and the way we share the success of the FIFA World Cup”. It is an encouraging and frankly exciting initiative, and again one must applaud the efforts. Under the Infantino administration, FIFA has pledged more funding in this way than ever before. “On 13 June 2018, the FIFA Congress decided to increase investment in the FIFA Forward Development Programme still further for the next cycle of 2019-2022 with a 20% increase in the annual entitlement for each of the 211 member associations and six confederations.”

Anyone can go to the webpage for the FIFA Forward Programme, roll their cursor over the interactive map and see that FIFA are investing money in places of need. Disappointingly, not overly specific information is provided regarding the exact use of funding, though there are encouraging articles that unpack some of the investments and initiatives and these efforts should be commended (the FIFA Foundation Community Programme is another example of some of the encouraging work being done).  One element that is interesting and appealing within these funding programs, is the toying with an application process to be granted some form of investment. This perhaps shows an increased awareness that money ought to be distributed specifically and deliberately, to address a genuine need. Though not a trial per se, this kind of process could be used as one and may turn out to be preferable to clubs in need, who would for instance prefer to bypass the national association if that relationship is not so sturdy.   

At first glance, the almost even allocation of investment per member association found in Circular no. 1659 - FIFA Forward Development Programme – regulations (FIFA Forward 2.0) may seem equitable, though taking into account that some of the wealthier associations may be the beneficiaries of the systemic exploitation and drain that has featured in this blog series, might render the near even distribution questionable. Whilst “an additional amount of up to USD 1,000,000 is available for member associations with an annual revenue of USD 4 million or less”, one might reasonably wonder if that amount of extra funding to smaller and/or poorer associations is sufficient to affect real change.

Whilst I hope I have made clear that FIFA’s efforts ought to be commended, the overarching theme of this section is to consider if more could be done and if so, might those extra efforts to distribute funds be preferable and able to replace the current systems of redistribution connected to the transfer system. I do not find impressive the self-congratulatory theme of the statement from Alejandro Domínguez, Chairman of the FIFA Finance Committee, of being hundreds of millions of dollars under budget in the 2019 annual report, as well as possessing “sufficient liquidity”. FIFA, a not-for-profit organisation, was delighted to report that “at the 2019 year-end, total assets had increased to USD 4,504 million (four billion, five hundred and four million), chiefly made up of cash and financial assets (82%). Reserves also remained at a very satisfactory level at USD 2,586 million (two billion, five hundred and eighty-six million), clearly above the amount budgeted.”[11]

Proposing FIFA fund more redistribution is not a risk free, nor a concern free proposition, but it does appear the idea could be taken more seriously by the relevant stakeholders. FIFA’s predominate money maker is the FIFA World Cup, which is in a sense, a way of using the produce of the richest clubs in the world, which have in turn benefitted from some of the poorest clubs nursing the players until they are of age. FIFA, filling the frequently mentioned gap from the profits of the World Cup makes as much sense as any proposal. Is this not simply a case of, if more can be done then more should be done? Going off FIFA’s reports, it has the resources.

Within this potential alternative, where FIFA are responsible for raising and redistributing funding that would otherwise supposedly come from the current redistribution systems, is a change to the modality of redistribution. From what is currently intimately connected to training and transfers, this alternative provides for the much-needed decoupling, not only based on the philosophical flaws, but additionally due to the preferable practical implications that divorcing redistribution, training and the transfer market could achieve. In terms of a body or mechanism to implement an alternative like this, how might a Clearing House kind of project unfold, that adopts a specific and deliberate ethos to distributing FIFA funds? To expand, following a substantial process of planning and allocation of adequate resources, the creation of a specific arm dedicated to researching and identifying those areas of football most in need, as well as receiving and vetting applications for funding. Might that or a similar solution be achievable? It could be in-house or outsourced the same way the Clearing House is intended to be, geared to make suggestions, provide expert economic advice and proposals, reporting its findings back to FIFA for an extra layer of approval. Food for thought in any case.

3. Concluding Remarks

There is a core of wealth in football that has benefitted from, been propped up by, and drained the periphery. It is important to ensure the strength and survival of football outside this core of wealth and to actively make sure value is added to the periphery. Football needs to promote this notion and in doing so ask the question, where will the big clubs turn for talent and youth if those reservoirs which they drain are emptied and unable to continue to produce talent? 

If one is convinced that it is not necessary to incentivise training, that the current regulations have significant negative effects, that any system of redistribution should be non-discriminative, provide minimal hindrance to free movement and pursue deliberate legitimate aims, then one is in favour of overhaul. Further then, surely there is an obligation to address what can be in the immediate sense. Namely, to either default to the free market, until a convincing system of redistribution is created, or perhaps preferably, for FIFA to take the reins and fund redistribution to the periphery of football to a greater extent.

[1] Wladimir Andreff (2001). The correlation between economic underdevelopment and sport. European Sport Management Quarterly, 1, p.274.

[2] Wladimir Andreff, “A Coubertobin Tax Against Muscle Drain”, 4th Play the Game Conference: Governance in Sport: The Good, the Bad & the Ugly, Copenhagen, 6-10 November (2005) p.10.

[3] Ibid, p.5.

[4] Ibid, p.9.

[5] Ibid, p.11.

[6] Ibid, p.12.

[7] Ibid.

[8] Ibid.

[9] Ibid.

[10] Ibid.

[11] FIFA Annual Report 2019 p.124.

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

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

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

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

Who is who and who does what?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lawful basis and problematic character of consent

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Proportionality of treatment

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A true plague or a real opportunity?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[8] See Chapter IV of the GDPR.

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

[10] Article 6 of the GDPR.

[11] Article 9 of the GDPR.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[20] Article 7.11 of the WADC.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Editor's note
Zlatka Koleva is a graduate from the Erasmus University Rotterdam and is currently an Intern at the ASSER International Sports Law Centre.

The decision on appeal in the case of O’Bannon v. NCAA seems, at first sight, to deliver answers right on time regarding the unpaid use of names, images and likenesses (NILs) of amateur college athletes, which has been an ongoing debate in the US after last year’s district court decision that amateur players in the college games deserve to receive compensation for their NILs.[1] The ongoing struggle for compensation in exchange for NILs used in TV broadcasts and video games in the US has reached a turning point and many have waited impatiently for the final say of the Court of Appeal for the 9^th circuit. The court’s ruling on appeal for the 9^th circuit, however, raises more legitimate concerns for amateur sports in general than it offers consolation to unprofessional college sportsmen. While the appellate court agreed with the district court that NCAA should provide scholarships amounting to the full cost of college attendance to student athletes, the former rejected deferred payment to students of up to 5,000 dollars for NILs rights. The conclusions reached in the case relate to the central antitrust concerns raised by NCAA, namely the preservation of consumer demand for amateur sports and how these interests can be best protected under antitrust law.

Facts and proceedings 

The case is brought before the district court by Ed O’Bannon, a former American basketball player at the University of California, Los Angeles (UCLA).[2] In 2008 he visited a friend’s house, where he saw his friend’s son playing a video game depicting him as a player in a college basketball competition.[3] The producer, Electronic Arts (EA), based video games on the concept of college football and men’s basketball.[4] O’Bannon saw an avatar with a striking resemblance of himself, playing for UCLA with his jersey number 31. He never consented to the use of his likenesses nor did he receive any financial remuneration for its usage.[5] For this reason, O’Bannon filed a lawsuit against the NCAA (National Collegiate Athletic Association) and the CLC (Collegiate Licensing Company) for using his NILs for commercial purposes.[6] The main argument supported by his legal counsel was that the NCAA restrictions on compensation for student athletes beyond university scholarships impose a limitation on trade under Section 1 of the Sherman Antitrust Act.[7] In June 2014 the claims based on antitrust law found a solid ground and the case was sent to the district court.[8] The court at first identified two markets where the NCAA rules can have a significant impact, namely the college education market and the group licensing market.[9] Afterwards, it applied the three-step Rule of Reason test in order to determine whether the NCAA restrictions on compensation for the usage of NILs violate antitrust laws.[10] After weighting the anticompetitive and procompetitive purposes of those rules, the court took the decisive third step in pursuit of less restrictive alternatives available to the NCAA in the attainment of its final goal – preserving the nature of amateur college games.[11] It ruled that there are two alternative routes, which preserve amateurism and, at the same time, protects the NILs rights of college athletes: stipends to the full cost of attendance or deferred payments as portions of the license agreements concluded between third party licensing companies and universities upon completion of their college education.[12] The NCAA objected to the district court’s decision on the ground that the court in the Board of Regents[13] declared the NCAA rules a matter of law and compensation norms, falling outside of the scope of a commercial activity, and therefore not covered by the Sherman Act. Finally, the association claimed that the plaintiffs failed to demonstrate injury as a result of the restrictions on compensation.[14] The Court of Appeal for the 9^th circuit ruled on the case as follows.

The judgment of the Court of Appeal for the 9^th circuit

Preliminary questions

The court started the legal discussion by answering to some preliminary legal questions before ruling on the substance. It rejected the notion that Board of Regents automatically renders the NCAA’s rules valid as a matter of law.[15] In fact, “a restraint that serves a procompetitive purpose can still be invalid under the Rule of Reason”.[16] Thus, procompetitive rules are not necessarily deemed lawful.[17] Moreover, rules designed to promote competitiveness “surely affect commerce” and, therefore, fall under the scope of the Sherman Act, according to the reasoning of the Court of Appeal in the 9^th circuit.[18] Finally, the court disagreed with NCAA in finding that the plaintiffs have no standing for failing to demonstrate the injury inflicted by the compensation rules.[19] On the contrary, the plaintiffs have shown willingness and readiness by video game producers to pay for their NILs rights have they possessed these rights, which means that the requirement of antitrust injury in this case is satisfied.[20]

Rule of Reason test

Judge Bybee then continued with the application of the Rule of Reason as assessed in relation to the restrictive measures towards compensation of student athletes.

1. Anticompetitive effect

The court concluded that the NCAA’s rules have an anticompetitive effect on the college education market and invalidated the association’s arguments.[21] It further examined whether the rules produce a procompetitive effect on the market and concluded that the district court has indeed undermined the importance the NCAA pays with regard to the preservation of amateurism in college competitions.[22]

2. Procompetitive purposes

Henceforth, the court outlined two procompetitive purposes of the NCAA’s restrictions: integrating academia with athletics and fostering the popularity of NCAA by promoting amateurism.[23] Nonetheless, it was highlighted that not every restrictive rule preserves the nature and distinctive character of college amateur sports.[24] For this reason, it should be examined whether there are any substantially less restrictive measures available to attain the goals intended by NCAA.[25]

3. Substantially less restrictive alternatives

The appellate court concurred with the district court on the first alternative, namely the grants-in-aid up to the full cost of attendance. The court for the 9^th circuit stated that “the district court did not clearly err in its judgment”[26] and “indicated that raising the grant-in-aid cap to the cost of attendance would have virtually no impact on amateurism”.[27] In fact, “there is no evidence that this cap will significantly increase costs”,[28] since NCAA already granted permission to schools to fund athletes to the full cost of attendance.[29] Nevertheless, the court rejected cash compensation beyond college scholarships to athletes on the ground that if amateur sportsmen receive a payment, they lose their amateur status.[30] The central question which needs closer attention is whether payments to amateur athletes promote amateurism more than the lack of any such remuneration.[31] The court, thus, contended that the comparison between smaller and larger sums and their respective impact on the market is irrelevant, since this is not a point of discussion in this analysis: it would not crystalize whether “paying students small sums is virtually as effective in promoting amateurism as not paying them”.[32] It further rejected the analogy with professional baseball and the Olympic Games, when in 1970s there was a strong opposition against the raising salaries of baseball players and the Olympic Committee permitted the participation of professional athletes in the Games.[33] The court, however, did not agree with this line of reasoning, since the Olympics have not been so impacted by the introduction of professionalism as college sports would be.[34] Finally, the imposition of a 5000-dollar yearly ceiling of deferred payments to college athletes lacks solid argumentation.[35] Neal Pilson, a former sports consultant at CBS and an expert witness for the NCAA, did not opine on how cash compensation relates to the promotion of amateurism and his ‘offhand comment’ does not grant sufficient support for such a revolutionary turnover in the NCAA’s practice.[36] Consequently, the deferred payment alternative failed the Rule of Reason test and was, thus, rejected.[37]

On these grounds, the court concluded that a stipend beyond sports scholarships up to the full amount of college attendance is a substantially less restrictive measure, which withstands the Rule of Reason test, while the cash compensation argument failed the assessment. 

Commentary

This judgment demonstrates a remarkable, yet confusing line of reasoning followed by the appellate court. On the one hand, albeit already affirmed by the NCAA itself, the decision confirms the right of schools to provide compensation up to the full amount of attendance to college athletes. On the other hand, however, the court could have outlined more clearly the instances in which an athlete can qualify for such full compensation and those cases in which student athletes risk violating their legal status of amateurs. A clear example of the court’s reluctance to give more specific guidelines with regard to this subject matter is the rejection of the argument raised by the district court in relation to the compensation received by college tennis players. Although they still qualify as amateurs, tennis competitors earn arguably around 10,000 dollars yearly in prize money.[38] The court conveniently circumvented this argument without stating opposing views or contesting the afore-mentioned statement. It directed its full attention on how the substantially less restrictive measures can contribute to the promotion of amateur college sports instead. In fine, there are two legal points that need further examination. Firstly, amateurism is a relevant concept as long as it relates to consumer demand in antitrust claims.[39] The question at step 3 should, thus, be reformulated to whether less restrictive alternatives are virtually effective in preserving consumer interest in college sports as those prohibiting extra compensation to amateur athletes.[40] In this respect, popular demand by consumers should be the decisive factor in antitrust cases within the sports sector. Secondly, what should also be taken into more careful consideration is that the court on appeal has skipped an essential step in the Rule of Reason analysis and, thus, arguably misapplied the concept.[41] Upon identification of less limiting measures for the attainment of the main goal, one has to balance the harm those alternatives might produce against the benefits there might be if such measures were not implemented. This final stage is necessary as to provide an objective cost-benefit analysis of a legal rule, which in turn determines whether it withstands the reasonableness test. Had the court applied the Rule of Reason in such a manner, the outcome of the case would have potentially differed significantly; the court would have weighted the cost of paying cash compensation to student athletes for their NILs rights against the lack of such additional educationally unrelated payment in the attainment of the NCAA’s final aim, namely preserving amateurism in college sports. [42]  Rather, as Chief Judge Thomas stated in his opinion, it is important to underline that, in the light of US antitrust rules, it is the preservation of popular demand for college sports which should be the key factor in the legal analysis of competition issues in such a scenario.[43]

At the end of the day, the NCAA’s dilemma is solved by the appellate court by exempting the association from further financial obligations towards college athletes. Both parties have 90 days after the release of the court’s decision to “weigh their options” for appeal before the Supreme Court.[44]

[1] Edward O'Bannon, Jr. v. National Collegiate Athletic Association (the NCAA) and Electronic Arts, Inc and Collegiate Licensing Company (CLC) 14-16601 (2015) [hereinafter referred to as ‘O’Bannon v NCAA (2015)’]; O’Bannon v. NCAA 7 F. Supp. 3d 955 (N.D. Cal. 2014) [hereinafter referred to as ‘O’Bannon v. NCAA (2014)’].

[2] Ibid, p 12.

[3] Ibid.

[4] Ibid.

[5] Ibid.

[6] Ibid.

[7] Section 1 of Sherman Antitrust Act of 1890 15 U.S.C. states that ‘every contract, combination… in restraint of trade or commerce’ should be prohibited.

[8] O’Bannon v NCAA (2015) (n 1), p 14.

[9] O’Bannon v. NCAA (2014) (n 1), paras 956-968.

[10] Ibid., paras 984-1009.

[11] Ibid., paras 1005-1006.

[12] Ibid.

[13] NCAA v. Board of Regents of the University of Oklohoma 468 US 85 (1984).

[14] O’ Bannon v. NCAA (2015) (n 1), p 25.

[15] Ibid., p 26.

[16] Ibid., p 31.

[17] Ibid., p 32.

[18] Ibid., p 36: “We simply cannot understand this logic. Rules that are “anti-commercial and designed to promote and ensure competitiveness” […] surely affect commerce just as much as rules promoting commercialism.”

[19] Ibid., pp 37-43.

[20] Ibid., p 43.

[21] Ibid., pp 47-48.

[22] Ibid., pp 48-52.

[23] Ibid., p 51.

[24] Ibid., p 52.

[25] Ibid.

[26] Ibid., pp 54.

[27] Ibid.

[28] Ibid., p 56.

[29] Ibid.

[30] Ibid., p 57: “But in finding that paying students cash compensation would promote amateurism as effectively as not paying them, the district court ignored that not paying student-athletes is precisely what makes them amateurs”.

[31] Ibid., p 56: “The question is whether the alternative of allowing students to be paid NIL compensation unrelated to their education expenses, is “virtually as effective” in preserving amateurism as not allowing compensation.”

[32] Ibid., pp 58-59.

[33] Ibid., p 59.

[34] Ibid.

[35] Ibid., p 60.

[36] Ibid: “But even taking Pilson’s comments at face value, as the dissent urges, his testimony cannot support the finding that paying student-athletes small sums will be virtually as effective in preserving amateurism as not paying them.”

[37] Ibid., p 63 : “The Rule of Reason requires that the NCAA permit its schools to provide up to the cost of attendance to their student athletes. It does not require more.”

[38] O’Bannon v. NCAA (2014) (n 1), para 1000.

[39] Chief Judge Thomas, concurring in part and dissenting in part, p 68.

[40] Ibid.

[41] Carrier M (2015) How Not to Apply the Rule of Reason: The O’Bannon Case. Rutgers University School of Law – Camden. http://ssrn.com/abstract=2672256. Accessed 20 October 2015.

[42] O’ Bannon v. NCAA (2015) (n 1), p 59: “The district court adverted to testimony from a sports management expert, Daniel Rascher, who explained that although opinion surveys had shown the public was opposed to rising baseball salaries during the 1970s, and to the decision of the International Olympic Committee to allow professional athletes to compete in the Olympics, the public had continued to watch baseball and the Olympics at the same rate after those changes”.

[43] Supra n 39, Chief Judge Thomas: “Rather, we must determine whether allowing student-athletes to be compensated for their NILs is ‘virtually as effective’ in preserving popular demand for college sports as not allowing compensation”.

[44] Tracy M and Strauss B, Court Strikes Down Payments to College Athletes (The New York Times.com, 30 September 2015). http://www.nytimes.com/2015/10/01/sports/obannon-ncaa-case-court-of-appeals-ruling.html?_r=0. Accessed 2 October 2015.