Ben Proud, who has joined the Enhanced Games, competing for Great Britain in 2018.
Photograph: Allan McKenzie/SWpix.com/Shutterstock
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Ben Proud, who has joined the Enhanced Games, competing for Great Britain in 2018.
Photograph: Allan McKenzie/SWpix.com/Shutterstock
Questions I’d Pose to the Enhanced Games, If Permitted
Sean Ingle
While the doping-friendly event seems uninterested in journalistic scrutiny, here’s what demands to be asked.
The plan to travel to Las Vegas to report on what the Enhanced Games touts as the “next frontier of human performance” was abruptly halted by a short email sent at 7:02 pm on Friday. “After careful consideration, we are unable to approve your media credential request for this year’s event,” it read. “Due to the high volume of applications and limited media capacity, we could not accommodate all requests… thank you again for your interest and understanding.”
Admittedly, the rejection wasn’t entirely unexpected. Unlike most sports organizations, the Enhanced Games had a pre-screening process, and a friendly PR man contacted me a few days earlier. His opening line was to highlight the Guardian’s negative coverage of the event — calling it “grotesque” (Barney Ronay), “showcasing so much of the wrongness of the age” (Marina Hyde), and warning that “competitors run the risk of their libido being ‘killed off’” (Sean Ingle). He then asked why we weren’t criticizing others in the longevity space. Um, because they aren’t running an event dubbed the “Steroid Olympics”?
Scientists warn Enhanced Games athletes of heart attack risks and having libidos ‘killed off’
After that rocky start, our conversation turned cordial. I explained that the Guardian aimed to do proper reporting on the May 24 event, including interviews with athletes, billionaire backers, and scientists. The PR man said he would talk to the organizers. Then came the email.
Of course, many in the sports world dismiss the entire concept of the Enhanced Games, which allows athletes to dope without restrictions and offers huge financial incentives — six-figure salaries, $250,000 (£185,000) for winning a race, and $1 million (£740,000) for breaking a world record. But a journalist’s instinct is to go where the action is, to hear the athletes’ stories, and to ask tough questions. Above all, I wanted to see firsthand how much an organization that violates so many traditional sports values can truly be trusted.
The first question I would have asked? What about the basics? Are the tracks legal, are the timing devices reputable, and are the officials trustworthy? And will there be any other gimmicks? In 2016, Justin Gatlin ran 100 meters in 9.45 seconds on a Japanese TV show, Kasupe!, but no one claimed he broke Usain Bolt’s world record because he was aided by a 20 mph tailwind from a giant fan.
Question two: You claim that athletes are “leaving the old system behind for a new era of honesty and science.” But do you really believe steroids, human growth hormone, and EPO are safe? I ask because I spoke to Prof. Ian Broadley and his colleague Martin Chandler from the University of Birmingham, who specialize in performance-enhancing drug research. They told me that claims of banned drugs being safer under medical supervision are “incorrect and misleading.”
They added: “We are also now starting to see some serious long-term effects from steroid use in research. Things like reproductive function or libido just being killed off with no real clear understanding of why.”
Question three: Can athletes sue the Enhanced Games? This isn’t purely theoretical. In 2005, the Guardian reported that 190 former East German athletes had filed a case against the German pharmaceutical company Jenapharm, claiming steroids caused infertility among women, embarrassing hair growth, breast cancer, and heart problems.
