What is it about the Olympics that wreaths it with the mythology which has endured for over a century - arguably from 776 B.C.E.? As the event’s popularity declines, this question must be at the crux of those with a stake in the prestigious sporting event. Nor is the answer as straightforward as opening ceremony speeches would have you believe. In examining its origins and recent scandals, the Olympics become harder to define.
One of the most obvious replies would be to claim that it is a platform to display feats which are “higher, faster, [and] stronger” than ever before, but a simple look at the statistics of any sport points otherwise. World records are rarely achieved at the Olympics (for example, less than 30% of current female track and field records were broken during the event), and frankly, for team sports, independent national or world championships are equally if not more prestigious (think: baseball World Series, the NCAA, or FIFA). If not the limits of human ability, perhaps it is an exhibition of sportsmanship. I believe that this is slightly closer to the target, but doesn’t quite hit it. Yes, the Olympics have produced many an inspirational or moving moment, but the Russian figure skating scandal in the most recent Beijing Olympics reminds us that unsportsmanlike behavior by nations and individuals greedy for glory has long been a part of the games, just as much as noble principles.
The most influential moments from the Olympics often come from its role as a high-profile human-interest and multicultural event. Take Jesse Owens’s legendary victory in Berlin, 1936, or numerous instances of athletes of different nationalities helping each other: Lawrence Lemieux, a sailor, coming to the aid of a Singaporean team from a different race and sacrificing a possible medal, is only one of many. Jesse Owens’s case in particular is enduring because of the way he broke down barriers as a black man and transcended (for a time) geopolitical conflict with class. These are moments which would not exist if the Olympics, true to their motto, centered purely around the limits of human athletic capability which would most likely appeal to a narrower audience. This is because firstly, if only the absolute top fixed percentage at a sport were invited, most athletes would be from the same dominant countries in that sport (as an extreme example, South Korea has won every team Gold in archery since 1988). This means less diversity and fewer moments of international cooperation and representation.
Even more unique is the Olympics’ active role in representing people who are not strictly the best at the sport. The Olympics originated as a purely amateur event (where the competitors could not earn money from their sport) in which athletes from all walks of life were common. This was because Pierre de Coubertain, who revived the Olympics in 1896, was inspired by the shows of sportsmanship and self-improvement which underlay the sport of the British upper crust. This policy (abolished in 1971) meant that athletes, while not always the best of the best at their sport, often had multidimensional and inspiring stories from their non-athletic lives. Dick Fosbury who pioneered the Fosbury Flop (in which one jumps backwards and head-first instead of upright), for example, was first-and-foremost a civil engineer student who high-jumped as a hobby. Using his engineering background he experimented and identified what is the dominant technique today. Despite his resounding success, he pursued a career in engineering and never returned to the Olympics, seemingly content with his contribution to the sport rather than the pursuit of another medal.
The second unique characteristic is its embracement of representation and internationalism. The Olympics do not invite the top-most skilled athletes in any given field. For most sports, they instead have a base level of competence, and give countries a limited number of spots to fill. While this means that countries which are stronger in the sport get to send more athletes, there is disproportionate representation with respect to ability. For example, Russia can only send up to three female figure skaters, despite the next five being more successful than even the top Estonian skater who was also able to participate.
The problem with Eileen Gu’s participation on behalf of China then, is not about whether she discloses her legal practises or that she is somehow “ungrateful” to America, it is that she is undermining the cultural and international element of the Olympics. Her story, in fact, just happens to be a highly publicized instance of a broader trend. Many athletes, who show all the evidence of being culturally dominant in the sport, often opt to represent a less competitive one. World Record-holding Armand Duplantis, for example, is another. While he grew up in the US and only speaks what he calls “Survival Swedish”, he chose to represent Sweden, a less competitive field in the sport. This is not to say that he, or many others have been dishonest or immoral (Duplantis, for one, has been completely transparent about his reasons for representing Sweden), but the incentives here are clear: It’s easier to get on the Olympic team of a country practically begging for athletes over a country saturated with athletes; in addition, certain countries gives higher bonuses for winnings at the games (for example, China reportedly gives higher payouts than the US). What we can forsee is that if the B-tier athletes of countries like Russia, the US, Australia, etc. are easily able to compete for countries with less competition in the sport, then athletes who represent these nations and countries better (e.g. grew up there, speak one of their main languages, are recognizable by its citizens) will soon be squeezed out of competition.
The path forward, however, is not clear-cut. When the success of an objective is impossible to quantify, policy to achieve it is proportionally difficult to enact. How does one prove that they authentically represent a country or people? Does it matter that most top athletes train in the same world class facilities anyway? How do we rise above a government’s incentive to win as many gold medals as possible? While these questions remain, we must not shy away from them. The first step is accepting that the Olympics are not an impartial show of human strength and nature, existing in a vacuum. Only then, can we work towards improvement.
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