The Enhanced fiasco

It began as a supposed revolution in sport—an enterprise not merely challenging the establishment but seeking to dismantle it altogether. Enhanced is built on a radical premise: that athletic competition should embrace medical science rather than prohibit it. When Aron D’Souza unveiled the Enhanced Games in 2023, the concept was deliberately provocative. Athletes would be allowed—indeed encouraged—to use performance-enhancing substances under medical supervision, with world records rewarded by prizes of up to $1 million.

What set Enhanced apart, at least rhetorically, was its financial model. Unlike the Olympics, it promised direct payment to athletes: appearance fees, prize money, and substantial rewards for record-breaking performances. Backed by a range of investors (in contrast to Michael Johnson’s ill-fated Grand Slam Track project, which collapsed under shaky financial assumptions), Enhanced also positioned itself as more than a sporting event. It aims to develop a consumer-facing line of products focused on health, longevity, and recovery—an attempt to anchor the project in a broader commercial ecosystem.

On paper, the vision has a certain appeal. Athletics without the IOC, without bans framed as “outdated,” without the moralising rhetoric around “natural” performance. Enhanced claims to prioritise transparency and medical oversight, reframing enhancement not as cheating but as controlled optimisation. The Games were intended not just as a competition, but as proof of concept: that sport could be reimagined as both scientifically honest and commercially viable. The implicit question was simple: what would human performance look like without imposed limits?

The answer, at least for now, is underwhelming.

The first Enhanced Games, held on May 24 in Las Vegas, fell far short of their grand claims. Instead of a cascade of world records, organisers produced a single headline result: Kristian Gkolomeev’s 20.81 in the 50m freestyle. Even that performance raised eyebrows. There were claims that the time appeared on the screen before the swimmer touched the wall, and in any case Gkolomeev wore a full-body suit—equipment banned in official competition. With those caveats, the legitimacy of the “record” is, at best, debatable.

The track events were even less convincing. Fred Kerley had publicly targeted Usain Bolt’s 9.58 world record in the 100m. His own personal best—9.76, set in 2022—suggested that such ambitions were optimistic even under ideal conditions. Currently serving a suspension for whereabouts violations, Kerley arrived in Las Vegas with bold claims but delivered a chaotic race marred by four false starts, ultimately winning in 9.97. That time would have placed him last in the 2024 Olympic final. The women’s race offered little improvement. Tristan Evelyn claimed victory in 11.25, well short of her 11.14 personal best. It should, however, be said in defence of both Kerley and Evelyn that they chose to compete without performance-enhancing substances. In an event explicitly designed to reward pharmacologically assisted performance, they ran clean—and still won their races, each earning $250,000 in the process.

As for the athletes who did follow enhancement protocols, the organisers provided only aggregate data. They reported that 91% used testosterone, 79% human growth hormone, and 29% anabolic steroids over a nine-week period, alongside other substances such as stimulants and erythropoietin. Some older competitors reportedly outperformed their younger selves, with 21 personal bests recorded across 13 athletes. Yet these gains failed to translate into performances that challenged the global elite.

This leaves a striking disconnect. On one side, the promotional rhetoric of Enhanced.com promises

“the future of sport—where science, athleticism, and progress inspire superhuman achievement”. 

On the other, critics, such as Travis Tygart (head of USADA, who tried to cover the E. Knighton scandal), have been far more direct:

“While those behind the Enhanced Games might be looking to make a quick buck, that profit would come at the expense of kids across the world thinking they need to dope to chase their dreams. We desperately wish this investment was being made in the athletes who are currently training and competing the real and safe way. They are the role models this world so desperately needs and they are the ones who deserve our support—not some dangerous clown show that puts profit over principle”.

If anything, the inaugural Enhanced Games delivered a simpler lesson than either side anticipated. Pharmaceutical assistance did not redefine the limits of performance, nor did it overturn the existing hierarchy. And perhaps most tellingly, two of the event’s winners proved that even in a competition built around enhancement, it was still possible to prevail without it.

Before the modern, the ancient Olympics (part 1 of "the real story of the Olympics")

The genesis of the ancient Olympics is lost in the mists of time. Pindar, writing whole centuries after the beginning of the Olympics, mentions two myths and they cannot both be true. The best known one involves the demigod Herakles, son of the god Zeus (whom the Greek were also calling Dias and whom the Romans called Jupiter) and Alkmene, who among his labours had to clean the stables of king Augean. Augean reneged on the payment and so Herakles defeated him, slayed him and his sons (except one), confiscated the royal treasures, and dedicated them to fund an eternal Olympic festival in Zeus's honour at Olympia.

The other one involves Pelops. I cannot resist the temptation to tell the whole story. It is a perfect example of nice story-telling in Greek mythology. Oenomaus, the king of Pisa, had a daughter named Hippodamia, and according to an oracle, the king would be killed by her husband. Therefore, he decreed that any young man who wanted to marry his daughter was required to drive away with her in his chariot, and Oenomaus would follow in another chariot, and spear the suitor if he caught up with them. Now, the king's chariot horses were a present from the god Poseidon and therefore supernaturally fast. The king's daughter fell in love with a man called Pelops. Before the race, Pelops persuaded Oenomaus' charioteer, Myrtilus, to replace the bronze axle pins of the king's chariot with wax ones. Naturally, during the race, the wax melted and the king fell from his chariot and was killed. After his victory, Pelops organised chariot races as a thanksgiving to the gods and as funeral games in honour of King Oenomaus, in order to be purified of his death. It was from this funeral race held at Olympia that the beginnings of the Olympics were inspired. Pelops became a great king and he gave his name to the Peloponnesus.

However there is a third, more ancient, myth involving again an Herakles. This one was a  Cretan hero, known as the Idaian Herakles, and four of his brothers, Aeonius, Epimedes, Iasius and Idas. They went to Olympia where Cronus had hidden the newborn Zeus. They organised a race (perhaps to entertain the infant) and the victor was crowned with an olive wreath. The four-year Olympic cycle, who was in fact a five-year one (πενθετηρίς) with the first and last year included, is supposed to honour the five brothers. 

Be that as it may, the ancient Olympics were linked to the worship of Zeus. The gold-and-ivory Statue of Zeus (one of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World) was located inside the Temple of Zeus in the sacred precinct of Olympia. A temple of Hera (Zeus' wife) did also exist, and in fact its construction predated that of Zeus' temple. Let's not forget that Herakles' name means "glory of Hera" and it was probably chosen so as to appease her, since Herakles was the fruit of an adulterous affair of Hera's husband.

Olympia around the first century of modern era

I am not going to give details on the ancient Olympics. They can be found on the web and if you are interested you can look them up. The aim of this article is to show how the ancient Olympics did not resemble the modern ones. The birth of the modern olympic movement took place in the middle of the Victorian era and, as was unavoidable, it was burdened by that epoch's ideologies. And the latter had nothing to do with the ancient Greek ideals. 

So, let us start at the beginning. First the ridiculous name: Olympic Games. There was nothing "gaming" in the ancient Olympics. They were called Olympic Contests (Αγώνες), and they are still referred to by this name in modern Greek. This is essential. The ancient Olympics, and in fact the whole ancient Greek society, were permeated by the spirit of competition. Only the victory counted. Why do you think there were no second and third prizes? It was not important just to participate as the Baron would like us think. And the word athlete comes from άθλος, a feat, an achievement, something that deserves a prize (έπαθλον).

Ι have already written about the amateurism misconception. Certainly the athletes in the Olympics competed for symbolic prizes like the olive wreath. However, back home, the winners were rewarded with substantial prizes, money, freedom from taxes, even lifetime pensions.

The ancient Olympics were not (until the Roman conquest of Greece) international. They were designed only for Greeks. 

There is absolutely no evidence of all the modern paraphernalia: olympic rings, torch relays, flags, hymns and anthems. 

The sacred fire in the sanctuary of Dias did not acquire a special significance during the Olympics, like the overhyped olympic flame. 

And although during the ancient Οlympics a truce between warring Greek cities made possible for athletes and spectators to attend the Olympics, this should not be misinterpreted as a philosophy of understanding and brotherhood, as the modern Olympic movement would like us think.

As Donald Kyle, author of the monograph "Sport and Spectacle in the Ancient World", points out: the modern Games have become more and more removed from the ancient.

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.