The IOC has seen the light. Finally!

Everybody remembers the Olympic fiasco of 2024; you would have to be living in an alternate universe to have missed it. A boxer, previously barred from women's competitions due to eligibility concerns (translation in plain english: she is male) was nevertheless allowed by the IOC to participate in the female boxing tournament, terrorizing her adversaries and usurping the gold medal. I cannot imagine a more shameful moment for the IOC. People reacted, and the IOC understood that its well-oiled money-making machine might start having problems—especially as major international federations like World Athletics and World Aquatics had already begun introducing measures to protect women’s sport, and as the president of the US (where the next Olympics will be held) had signed an executive order titled “Keeping Men Out of Women’s Sports”. So the IOC caved in. The moment was opportune: the president who had overseen the Paris debacle was being replaced, and, what is more, by a woman. One of the first questions K. Coventry had to answer was how she intended to protect women’s sport. Now we have the answer.

On March 26, a new IOC policy was approved. Starting with the Los Angeles 2028 Olympic Games, eligibility for any female category in IOC events is limited to biological females, using a one-time SRY gene screen as the initial eligibility test. It is explicitly not retroactive and does not apply to recreational sport. It is a major shift because it creates a single IOC-level standard for female-category eligibility across Olympic sports, rather than leaving the issue entirely to each federation.

This is probably the most consequential decision taken by the new IOC president since her election last year. In a video message, she quipped:

We know this is a sensitive issue, but it would not be fair for biological males to compete in the female category. At the Olympic Games, even the smallest margins can be the difference between victory and defeat, so it’s absolutely clear that it would not be fair. In addition, in some sports it
would simply not be safe.

And, for the first time, the IOC recognises that there is a male performance advantage. Depending on the sport or event, there is a 10–12% male performance advantage in most running and swimming events, and an over 20% male performance advantage in most throwing and jumping events. The male performance advantage can be greater than 100% in events that involve explosive power, e.g. in collision, lifting, and punching sports.

In an article published in New Studies in Athletics, No. 29:4, 2014, pp. 37–48, co-authored with Y. Charon, we estimated the difference between male and female performances in Athletics. We found an advantage of around 10% in running and 15% in jumping. I addressed the question of throws in an article published in this blog:
I concluded there that, when it comes to throws, the male advantage is on the order of 30%.

Linda Blade, a former T&F champion and author of the book “Unsporting: How Trans Activism and Science Denial are Destroying Sport”, has compiled a list in which she not only gives estimates of the male advantage but also dismantles the usual arguments of trans apologists, one by one. I reproduce it below because it captures the reality of the situation more clearly—and more honestly—than any official statement.

How does eligibility work? The first-line criterion is SRY gene screening, which the IOC describes as a minimally invasive test using saliva, a cheek swab, or a blood sample. Athletes who test negative are deemed to satisfy the policy permanently, i.e. they are women (unless there is reason to doubt the result). Under the policy, athletes with an SRY-positive result are, in principle, excluded from the female category at IOC events, including transgender women and most XY differences (or disorders) of sex development. 

But there are exceptions. In an article I published last year, I discussed this point (if you are interested, I suggest you go back and read it to get the full picture). The IOC policy explicitly mentions Complete Androgen Insensitivity Syndrome (CAIS). In this condition, there is no testosterone-related performance advantage, which is why these athletes remain eligible for the female category.

However, as Ross Tucker has pointed out, this is not a trivial matter. Not all androgen insensitivities are complete: some individuals present partial insensitivity, and the key question is whether this confers any residual advantage. Tucker’s position is clear: if the IOC wants this policy to hold, it must rely on a “very robust, very transparent, very reliable, repeatable procedure.” And, in response to those who claim that the IOC is policing women’s bodies, he makes the obvious point: the aim is not to police bodies, but to define—and enforce—the boundary that makes women’s sport possible in the first place.

The IOC presents this policy as a way to protect fairness, safety, and integrity in elite women’s competition. It insists that the female category exists to preserve meaningful competition, where biological differences would otherwise erase equal opportunity. I would say that, at long last, the IOC has stopped pretending.

The centenary of Kinue Hitomi's book

I had not planned to write this article. My intention was to publish a piece on the IOC’s decision to introduce a femininity test. However, during my daily visit to the World Athletics website, I came across an article by none other than P.-J. Vazel. If you follow this blog, you know I am a longtime admirer of his work. His technical articles have been a major source of inspiration for me. Since becoming the curator of the World Athletics Heritage Museum, however, he has been less visible than before. Yet it was not his name that first caught my attention, but the article’s title, which mentioned the great Kinue Hitomi—likely for the first time ever on the World Athletics homepage.

I will not retell Hitomi-san’s story here. I covered it in detail in a previous article from my series “The Long and Arduous Road of Women to the Olympics,” published four years ago. I encourage you to read it, and while you are there, to explore the accompanying piece on the first women’s Olympic 800 meters. There is also a follow-up article, written just last year, which brings new elements to the discussion of that race, including references to a possible IOC effort to limit women’s events—or at least to curtail the women’s program—based on negative interpretations of the 1928 experience.

Kinue Hitomi (1907–1931) was a pioneering Japanese athlete who, after setting a national long jump record almost by chance at a school meet in 1923, devoted herself to track and field. She went on to establish world records across multiple events, including the long jump, triple jump, 100 m, 200 m, 400 m, and standing long jump, while also working as Japan’s first female sports journalist. She was named the outstanding athlete of the 1926 Women’s World Games in Göteborg. At the 1928 Amsterdam Olympics—after her preferred events were not included in the program and she was eliminated in the 100 m semifinals—she entered the 800 m on impulse, despite never having raced the distance, and won silver in 2:17.6, becoming the first Japanese woman to earn an Olympic medal. She was the inaugural world record holder in a combined event for women, the triathlon: 100m, high jump, javelin. Alas, she fell ill after the 1930 Prague Games and died of pneumonia the following year at just 24. In my view, she stands as the greatest athlete of that era, a time when women were fighting relentlessly for their right to compete. (Sadly, a century later, that struggle is not entirely over).

Vazel’s article is not about Hitomi-san herself, but about a book she wrote at just 19. Its title is 最新女子陸上競技法 (“The Latest Methods of Women’s Track and Field Athletics”). A digitized version is available from the National Diet Library of Japan, and, being a century old, it is now in the public domain. On the second page, one finds a photograph of Her Imperial Highness Princess Nobuko—the consort of Prince Asaka and daughter of Emperor Meiji—playing golf. The third page features a portrait of the young Hitomi-san (remember that the book predates her emergence as an international star), holding in her left hand a medal won at a national championship.

I will not attempt to summarize Vazel’s article, but rather highlight a few salient points that illustrate how remarkable Hitomi-san’s book is. First, she describes the use of starting blocks, even though their invention is usually attributed to G. Bresnahan, who filed a patent in 1927—one year after her book was published. Ironically, the IAAF (the predecessor of World Athletics) banned starting blocks in 1935 and only reauthorized them in 1938, and then with restrictions. More broadly, she outlines a comprehensive program for women’s athletics, rather than the limited version reluctantly accepted by the IOC. It is worth recalling that Hitomi herself was a triple jump champion, a discipline that did not enter the Olympic program until 1996. Her proposals were grounded in a clear conviction: that women deserved proper instruction, formal rules, sound technique, and serious study. She also documents four-week Olympic training schedules and meal plans from the 1924 Paris Olympic Village, focusing on Japanese male athletes. As Vazel points out, this is “pure gold” for sports historians, as it reminds us that many of the questions we consider cutting-edge today—nutrition, recovery, session management, and adaptation to international competition—were already being examined systematically a century ago.

It is remarkable that such a modest volume—just 134 pages, not 234 as Vazel suggests—can stand as one of the earliest and most forward-looking contributions to the scientific and methodological foundations of modern athletics: it as a testament to Hitomi’s extraordinary vision of what women’s sport could become.

World Relays in Gaborone

I hadn't followed last year's World Relays. And, to tell the truth, had I done so I would have been irritated at the timorous, fainthearted and borderline cowardly choice of World Athletics concerning the mixed 4x100 m race. Fortunately, somewhere along the line they saw the light and opted for the proper relay composition, the only one I find acceptable: man-woman-man-woman.

If you have been following my blog you certainly know that I have been proposing the 4x100 mixed relay for close to ten years. In Gaborone we saw the race run properly for the first time in a global setting. And it was absolutely great. As expected, the coaches found a solution to the problem of speed-difference between men and women. If you haven't followed the competition I invite you to watch the highlights at the World Athletics youtube channel. The women start running when the men are more than 10 meters behind them while the men start when the women are practically at their shoulders. And what is interesting is that men passing the baton can slow down (a luxury they do not have in an all-men race) and make the transfer smooth. Just watch the video below, taken during the qualifying heats. 

E. Adjibi is passing the baton to M-E. Leclair. When the later cannot grasp it firmly he takes her arm and practically puts the baton in her hand. 

It is moments like this that make the 4x100  mixed relay a great event. Fortunately it is here to stay. And watching the Jamaican team being head and shoulders above the competition was a real treat.

Don't let yourselves be fooled by the photo-finish

The real difference was considerably greater: Tia Clayton is at least 6 meters ahead of A. Leduc. And speaking of the Clayton twins, who both ran in the mixed relay, I find the choice to write Ti. Clayton on both their bibs laughable. How can you tell who is who? (Tina is on the left and Tia on the right).

The world record was broken twice: first in the heats with 39.99 and then in the final with 39.62. Just to put this in the proper perpective the first time the men's 4x100 m record dipped inder the latter mark was in 1960 when the German team won the olympic title in Rome with 39.5, electronically timed at 39.60 s. (Mind you, the US team who won in the Melbourne, 1956, Olympics, had also run in 39.5 and there is an unofficial electronic time for that race at 39.60 s).

The Jamaican women's 4x100 relay had two great champions in their team, S. Jackson and E. Thompson-Herrah. It was a real pleasure to see the latter back after several years plagued by injuries. (And I noticed that Briana Williams made it back to the national team. She's an athlete I follow but I was starting to lose hope).

The women's 4x400 relay was won by the amazing team of Norway. When H. Jeager took the baton less than a meter behind B. Hervás it was clear that she was going to prevail. But the split that I found amazing was that of A. Iuel who ran a below-50 s split, giving Norway the lead at the second exchange. I expect Iuel to fetch times under 54 s in her specialty (400 m hurdles) this summer.

The US team, in fact just a B-team, won the 4x400 mixed, the men's 4x100 and obtained the bronze in the mixed 4x100 m. But the event everybody was expecting was the men's 4x400 m relay, where Botswana is the reigning world champion. And they went on to win in front of their crowd. It was not an easy victory. Eppie passed the baton to Tebogo in first place but the latter was overtaken by an astonishing Pillay of South Africa. Ndori managed to bring Botswana back (just barely) to the lead and Kebinatsipi showed his immense talent by biding his time, not allowing the south african and australian runner to box him in, and sprinting to victory on the last stretch, winning in 2:54.47 (third performance of all times behind those of two US teams).

I was talking about the impressive split of L. Pillay, estimated (because splits are at best estimates) at 42.66. It was not the only one. Kebinatsipi was given a 43.09 s split. R. Holder of Australia had a split of 43.12. And speaking of splits there are three women with splits under 49 seconds, H. Jeager, Sh. Mawdsley and P. Sevilla. Although all three are great athletes I have trouble believing those splits (except perhaps for Jeager who has a personal best of 49.49, compared to 50.7 for Mawdsley and Sevilla), the altitude of Gaborone, 1014 m, notwithstanding.

A major disappointment was the performance of Belgium men's team. We have been accustomed to see them among the protagonists of the 4x400 m  but in Gaborone they finished at the last place of the final. Similarly the women's team of the Netherlands could do no better than 5th in the 4x400  final (and the remaining Dutch teams did not fare better). One thing that I have trouble understanding (and this goes back to this year's indoors) is why F. Bol is not part of the national relay. In Gaborone she could have made the difference between an "also ran" and a bronze medal.

All in all, this year’s World Relays were a thrilling and highly competitive event. With mixed relays now firmly established in the programme of all major championships—including this year’s Ultimate Athletics Championship—I am convinced we are in for many more exciting showdowns to come.

It's time for the real story of the Olympics

Unless you are living in an alternate reality you have certainly been exposed to the de Coubertin myth, a myth created by himself, peddled by a bunch of sycophants and sanctified by the multinational mastodon that has become the IOC. 

He was touted as the founder, father, saviour, reviver, restorer, creator, originator, initiator, pioneer, forerunner, progenitor, innovator, mastermind, prophet, inspirer, luminary, rebuilder, rejuvenator, patriarch, godfather of the Olympics. He was hailed as the guiding spirit of the modern Olympics, the architect of Olympic revival, the torchbearer of the Olympic ideal, the moral engineer of athletic renaissance. He is revered as the patron saint of modern sport. 

The list goes on and on, repeating ad nauseam the laudatory clichés and panegyrics for de Coubertin. But one should not swallow the platitudes of the de Coubertin hagiographies. The reality is totally different from what the baron himself pretends. In a letter, written in 1934, when people had (he hoped) forgotten the real history, he claims:

It has been said that Olympism was 'in the air' and likely to be revived somehow or other. It was not.

And just a month before, in an article celebrating the 40th anniversary of the re-establishment of the Olympic Games he wrote:

Vainement, des perfidies ultérieures s'exerceront-elles à faire prédominer la notion d'une création incertaine dont les étapes se seraient succédées timidement au hasard des circonstances. La vérité est différente. L'Olympisme est né cette fois tout équipé, comme Minerve! — avec son programme complet et sa géographie intégrale; la planète entière serait son domaine.

(In vain will later perfidies try to impose the notion of an uncertain creation whose stages would have timidly followed one another, at the whim of circumstance. The truth is otherwise. Olympism was born this time fully armed, like Minerva — with its complete program and its entire geography; the whole planet was to be its domain).

He implies that Olympism was born out of his own head, with no other parent, that there was really no "Olympism" in the air. 

Those are unashamed lies.

When Pierre de Coubertin visited William Brookes in Much Wenlock, England, in 1890, he knew nothing about the Olympics. His trip was driven by his interest in education, especially physical education and sport, a subject dear to Brookes at the time. Once in Much Wenlock, however, the baron stumbled upon the local Olympic revival movement, the very initiative that later inspired the modern Olympic Games. It was this movement that Coubertin would subsequently claim to have founded himself, single‑handedly.

I feel it is time for the real story of the Olympic revival to be told. There were, in the last half of the 19th century, two serious and significant national olympic revivals: one in Greece, and one in England. And, moreover these two revivals were interconnected. In a series of posts, I will tell their story, and how de Coubertin, in an act of perfidy (to use his own word), sought to expunge the Greek and English origins from Olympic history.