She was known throughout the skating world as “Miss Perfect,” due to her flawless routines and gravity-defying jumps. At only 15 years old, Kamila Valieva, a Russian figure skater, had solidified herself as one of the best skaters in the world. She won competition after competition in her first year as a senior skater and was the heavy favorite for gold at the 2022 Winter Olympics.
But all was not as it seemed. Valieva tested positive for trimetazidine, a performance-enhancing drug not permitted under regulations. But despite clear violations of the rules, Valieva was allowed to continue to compete.Â
Her circumstances were unique because of her age. As a 15-year-old, most of the blame is shifted to her coaches and doctors. Because she is a minor, she is not held personally accountable for the usage of these drugs. And this isn’t to say that she should be.Â
But there are striking differences between Valieva and other athletes who have tested positive for banned substances, leading to questions of fair enforcement and racial equity.
Take Sha’Carri Richardson for example. Just before the Summer Games, she tested positive for marijuana use and was subsequently banned from competing. Richardson took the substance as a coping mechanism after her mother’s death in Oregon, where it is considered legal. There is significant controversy over whether marijuana could be considered a performance-enhancing drug, with the only justification being that it could lower anxiety in athletes.
In contrast, there is legitimate proof that trimetazidine can boost blood flow and increase endurance for an athlete, something that could easily give Valieva an edge in competition by allowing her the necessary energy to perform more difficult jumps than her competitors. Despite this, she was still allowed to compete, leading to questions of fairness and racism in the application of such rules.
Olympic drug regulations must be reconsidered. The scandal of Kamila Valieva, a Russian figure skater, and the ensuing backlash from American sprinter Sha’Carri Richardson and her supporters brought this to the limelight.Â
Following the announcement of Valieva’s hearing, Richardson was understandably upset by the difference in treatment and called out its unfairness.Â
“Can we get a solid answer on the difference of her situation and mines?” Richardson tweeted. “The only difference I see is I’m a black young lady.”
Richardson brings up a good point. Yes, age was a major decider in Valieva’s situation. One cannot help notice the stark differences in treatment between her, a young white girl, and Richardson, a black woman. It seems unlikely that race played no part in this discrepancy, and demonstrates the need for change in these rules.Â
Valieva is the catalyst for a discussion that has been a long time coming. How can the drug regulations operate without being morphed into a byproduct of racism?
The answer is simple. At the moment, they cannot. To take away the impact of racism on these situations, the rules themselves must be reformed.Â
These rules are based upon the World Anti-Doping Agency (WAPA). Items must follow three main criteria: they may not harm the health of the athlete, be performance-enhancing, or be against the spirit of the sport.Â
The only rule that holds merit is the second. If drugs are performance-enhancing, like Valieva’s clearly was, they should not be permitted. The others, however, are arbitrary, contradictory, and completely vague.
Athletes’ health would be a good guideline if it wasn’t completely disregarded for substances like alcohol. Being against the spirit of the sport has no real meaning. It is entirely subjective and inconsistent.Â
Richardson’s drug met the two requirements that don’t really have that much of an effect. Her ban appears out of touch and unnecessary in the face of others who test positive for obvious performance-enhancing drugs and still compete. Instead of holding all athletes to high standards, as they are meant to, these guidelines only manage to bar talented Black athletes from competition.Â
Time after time again, Black athletes suffer harsher penalties for these situations. They are tested more frequently, suffer worse consequences, get their names get dragged through the mud when results do come out, and are constantly rumored to be partaking in them when successful.
Richardson is just one of many. Serena Williams serves as another example of the racial disparity in drug enforcement. In 2018, she received the most so-called “random” drug tests out of any other women’s tennis player.Â
And let us not forget the racist history of marijuana enforcement. Black and brown Americans are disproportionately targeted for marijuana use in the U.S. Despite similar usage rates, they are arrested for marijuana use four times more often than white Americans. To overlook this is to turn a blind eye to our country’s systemic racism.
So no, Valieva shouldn’t have necessarily faced harsh consequences. Her circumstances are unique. But, she does illustrate the vast barriers between Black and white athletes and what needs to be changed.Â
First and foremost, the WADA needs to update and reform its criteria. All other sports agencies need to follow in those footsteps and do the same. Nothing will change without clearly stated, newly developed rules that leave no room for interpretation.
Then, these rules need to be enforced across the board. No matter the country, race, gender, or anything else of an athlete, everyone must be held to the same standards.
Whether marijuana should be allowed for athletes or not is an entirely separate debate. What is essential is the equal enforcement of the rules and regulations. Nothing can change without a push for fair treatment in all circumstances.Â
Race will never be removed from situations like this. It’s impossible. But it is possible to form better regulations that reflect the disparities of racism.Â
More than anything else, we must listen to those disproportionately affected by racism. The easiest way to avoid progress is to ignore those shouting for change. Voices like Richardson will shape the future of reform, and it is up to us to listen to them.
*This editorial reflects the views of the Scot Scoop editorial board and was written by Sophie Gurdus.