Why More Gender Testing at the Olympics Won’t Solve Anything

—Richard Pelham/Getty Images

In their preliminary women’s boxing match for the 2024 Olympics, Algeria’s Imane Khelif landed a painful blow to the face on Italy’s Angela Carini, who gave up the fight after 46 seconds.

“I’ve never received such a powerful blow,” Carini told reporters after the match.

The incident might have been relatively uncontroversial if not for what happened at the 2023 International Boxing Association (IBA) Women’s World Championships.

At the tournament, two days before its end, officials disqualified Khelif, who competes in the 66-kilogram (146-pound) category, and Taiwanese Lin Yu-ting, who competes in the 57-kilogram (126-pound) category. The IBA issued an official statement saying the women “did not meet the required eligibility criteria and had competitive advantages over other female competitors.”

So how come Khelif and Lin were allowed to fight at the 2024 Olympics in Paris? What “necessary eligibility criteria” did the IBA use to make its decision? And do those criteria give Khelif and Lin any competitive advantages?

A Tormented History of Sex Testing

In my book, Regulatory Bodies, I explore what I call the “politics of protection” in elite sport.

These regulations aim to protect the spirit of fair play, to preserve the health and well-being of athletes and to protect the image and interests of sport. They include policies that regulate doping and genetic enhancement, set age limits and weight categories and, in the case of parasports, establish categories for competition.

Protection policies can also govern whether athletes compete in men’s or women’s events. But history shows that there is no definitive way to determine gender – and there is no consensus on how important the distinction is.

In the 1940s, sports governing bodies began requiring women to submit letters from doctors confirming that they were female.

In the 1960s, some sports organizations briefly required gynecological exams and visual inspections of undressed women before turning, in 1967, to sex chromatin tests that specifically looked for the typically female XX sex chromosomes.

When it finally became clear in the 1980s that women could have the male-typical XY sex chromosome pair without any athletic benefit, genetic testing was briefly tried before turning to “suspicion-based testing.” Under this system, if someone disputed an athlete’s sex, they could be asked to undergo a multi-pronged sex verification process.

Starting around 2010, discussions in international sport turned to natural testosterone levels, how women’s bodies responded to that testosterone, and specific diagnoses of intersex variations.

Yet all versions of gender testing fall apart when examined closely. That’s because most sports are organized according to a strict male-female binary. That’s not the case in nature.

A ban “contrary to good governance”

Each Olympic sport is governed by its own international federation, and the International Olympic Committee allows each federation to set its own eligibility criteria regarding issues such as age, citizenship and gender.

The 2021 “IOC Framework on Equity, Inclusion and Non-Discrimination on the Basis of Gender Identity and Sex Variation” offers a series of recommendations for federations to consider, but also acknowledges that “it is up to each sport and its governing body to determine how” to determine eligibility to compete in women’s events. In other words, the IBA can decide how, for the purposes of boxing, it defines “woman.”

But the IBA’s decision to disqualify Khelif and Lin, both of whom have competed in the sport for years and whose passports confirm they are women, raised two major problems.

First, the boxing association failed to act in accordance with its official regulations. The IOC has since said the IBA “suddenly” disqualified the women from the 2023 World Championships “without any due process” and that the decision was “contrary to good governance.”

Second, the IOC no longer considers the IBA to be the international boxing federation. After a series of concerns about the IBA’s finances, governance and ethics, the IOC withdrew its official recognition from the IBA in 2023 and instead designated the Paris 2024 boxing unit to host the Olympic tournament.

The Paris 2024 boxing unit relied on the IBA’s eligibility criteria, drafted after the Rio 2016 Games, which allowed Khelif and Lin to compete. Those same criteria also allowed both women to compete at the 2020 Olympics, where Khelif finished fifth and Lin ninth.

Cut through the noise

Khelif’s victory in the second round of the Olympics against Carini sparked a predictable, if disheartening, outcry from ultra-conservative politicians and anti-transgender influencers.

Khelif must be a “man” (she is not). Or she is “transgender” (again, she is not. In fact, it is illegal in Algeria to identify as such).

Others have claimed that Khelif’s “biological advantages” were “unfair.”

But aren’t the Olympics supposed to showcase biological advantages? Whether it’s Simone Biles’ ability to jump 12 feet off the ground in her floor routine or swimmer Katie Ledecky holding the 20 fastest times in women’s 1,500-meter freestyle history, no one reaches the top without exceptional athletic gifts.

What has been overlooked is that Khelif did what boxers are supposed to do: hit their opponents hard enough that they couldn’t fight back. Lin’s fights, which ended in decisions in her favor, have been less controversial. But they have nonetheless sparked a new debate about who should be allowed to compete in women’s sports.

The Paris Games are the closest Olympics have come to gender parity: 49% of all Olympic athletes this year are women.

Boxing is one of the sports that has been slowest to offer opportunities to women. Women competed in Olympic boxing for the first time at the London 2012 Games, in just three weight classes. By comparison, men competed in 10 different weight classes. The 2016 Rio Games saw a similar disparity. At the 2020 Games, there were five weight classes for women and eight for men. This year’s Games feature six weight classes for women and seven for men.

What is protected and who is protected?

The binary organization of sport is not perfect, but it is important.

Research shows that, on average, elite male athletes outperform elite female athletes by about 10 to 12 percent. The remarkable progress made in women’s sport would likely be reversed if gender categories were eliminated. At the same time, the way in which sports governing bodies define and police these categories not only disadvantages athletes of diverse genders, but also discredits any female athlete who might appear “masculine” – in performance, appearance or otherwise.

To return to the question of protection: Who or what do gender-based regulations protect? Do they protect an unequal playing field? The indefinable category of “woman”? Or the safety of women in a dangerous sport? The sport itself?

We don’t really know what criteria the IBA used to disqualify Khelif and Lin, although there is much speculation. But these are personal and intimate details that, in my opinion, should be respected and kept private.

What we do know is that this fury has far-reaching consequences. Khelif called for this hateful speech to stop: “It can destroy people, it can kill people’s thoughts, minds and souls. It can divide people.”

It already is.

In a Games that have so brilliantly showcased and celebrated female Olympians, I find the debate over Khelif and Lin as disconcerting as it is heartbreaking. Above all, both boxers are human beings who do not deserve to be turned into political punching bags.

This article was originally published on The Conversation by Penn State’s Jaime Schultz. Read the original article here.