Semenya is born to run — so let her
On one level, the long-running conflict between three-time 800-metre world champ Caster Semenya and the IAAF centres on testosterone.
Last year, the IAAF, which governs international track and field, approved yet another rule change limiting naturally occurring testosterone, this one aimed specifically at women’s races between 400 metres and a mile. Semenya, a South African with two Olympic gold medals, appealed that ruling to the Swiss-based Court of Arbitration for Sport, arguing that it unfairly targets her. Losing the appeal would leave her with a trio of unsatisfying options: compete against men, lower her testosterone through drugs, or retire.
The CAS heard arguments last week and is expected to issue a ruling on the highstakes case in late March.
But more fundamentally, the IAAF’s case against natural testosterone in events Semenya contests pivots on good faith, and whether it guides both sides in this dispute.
Semenya, for example, has only ever competed within her sport’s rules, in the gender category for which she qualifies. But the IAAF has repeatedly rewritten those rules, each time narrowing its focus on Semenya, a clue that regulations purporting to advance women’s sport really seek to curb a single woman’s dominance.
A rule change promoting fair sport would recognize the qualitative difference between synthetic testosterone athletes inject to gain an unfair edge, and naturally occurring testosterone that can boost performance but does so legally. Treating the substances equally is like telling cyclists there’s no distinction between strong quadriceps and a motor, then outlawing both because they enable faster riding.
Yet a year ago, the IAAF council passed the latest in a series of rules hoping to force female athletes with high natural testosterone to artificially manipulate hormone levels to stay eligible for IAAF-sanctioned meets. In 2014, Indian sprinter Dutee Chand appealed an earlier version of the testosterone rule to the CAS, and the next summer won a suspension of the regulation, clearing her and Semenya to compete without hormone- suppressing drugs.
A year later, Semenya won 800-metre gold at the Rio Olympics, crossing the line in a national record time of one minute, 55.28 seconds.
The rule change approved last year wouldn’t apply to Chand, who runs the 100 and 200 metres, but would still trip up Semenya. And the IAAF enlisted high-profile support ahead of last week’s hearing in Lausanne, Switzerland. Before proceedings began, a list of expert witnesses was released, a group that included Angelica Linden Hirschberg, a Stockholm-based professor and gynecology, and Doriane Lambelet-Coleman, a Duke University law professor and former world-class 800-metre runner.
As the case progressed, sports world heavy-hitters weighed in on Twitter.
“It’s nothing to do with racism, feminism, or the genetic advantage of a single person,” tweeted Paula Radcliffe, who holds the world record in the women’s marathon. “The effects of elevated testosterone on performance can’t be ignored.”
Except that if gender weren’t an issue, the IAAF would also seek to regulate natural testosterone in male athletes. So far, it hasn’t.
And if the goal is to account for the performance-enhancing effects of natural testosterone, the IAAF would impose similar rules on the women’s pole vault and hammer throw, the two events the track body’s own testing found had the strongest correlation between natural testosterone and performance. Ignoring that evidence, and then policing natural testosterone in Semenya’s events, signals that proposed rules do indeed aim to mitigate one person’s genetic advantage.
Centring on testosterone and gender helps the IAAF sell the rule changes to the general public, because casting women such as Semenya as somehow less female makes it easier to lump them in with athletes who wilfully take drugs to boost performance. It’s a quick PR win, but ignores the reality that natural testosterone alone can’t propel an athlete to gold medals and world records. Chand’s 100-metre personal best, 11.24 seconds, ties her for 492nd place all-time, while Semenya is the fourth-fastest 800-metre runner in history. Her personal best — one minute, 54.25 seconds — trails world record holder Jarmila Kratochvilova by nearly a second.
The rule also asks us to forget that elite sports wouldn’t exist if we outlawed the genetic advantages that distinguish world champion athletes from everyday people. We don’t regulate limb length for sprinters, or wingspan for swimmers, and we wouldn’t ask an air rifle shooter with unusually sharp vision to wear goggles that brought him down to 20/20.
Two weeks ago, six-footseven super-welterweight boxer Sebastian (The Towering Inferno) Fundora knocked out a prospect named Donnie Marshall to improve his record to 12-0. Fundora’s height might feel unfair to other fighters in the 154-pound division, but if he makes weight he’s following the rules. How he handles his height advantage is his business. If boxing regulators decide Fundora’s presence undermines fair play, they can scrap weight classes and match fighters by height.
And if the IAAF were concerned with levelling playing fields, and if naturally occurring testosterone were the real problem, the track officials would test athletes for it and group them according to results.
The system wouldn’t be easy to follow for fans or athletes. Some competitors would land in coed events, and others would change categories as hormone levels fluctuated throughout the year. But subjecting every competitor to the same test would at least make the setup consistent.
Except we know naturally occurring testosterone isn’t the problem, otherwise the IAAF would regulate it across genders and events, like it does steroids and stimulants and false starts.
The dilemma is Caster Semenya’s dominance. And as runners struggle to outrun her on the track, the IAAF keeps seeking ways to outflank her with their rulebook.