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Some guidelines for reporting research on performance enhancement
Performance Enhancement & Health 5 (2016) 1–3
Contents lists available at ScienceDirect
Performance Enhancement & Health journal homepage: www.elsevier.com/locate/peh
Editorial
Some guidelines for reporting research on performance enhancement
1. Introduction The social construction of doping in sport has begun to dominate both lay and academic engagement with performance enhancing technologies, and especially drugs with performance enhancing implications. The politics demand that anti-doping be characterised as an inherently virtuous pursuit and doping vile and ignominious corruption (see Mazanov, 2017). While such characterisations may be appropriate to advance political interests in international sport and media interests in selling content, the political demands that doping and anti-doping be constructed in particular ways has the potential to interfere with the integrity of academic debate of, among other things, the nexus between performance enhancement and health. That is, politicised research stands to undermine the trust consumers of research have in the producers of that research. This editorial discusses four issues that have emerged from research submitted to Performance Enhancement and Health on doping that have the potential to undermine the integrity of academic debate. These four issues are used to develop guidelines on the reporting of research on doping and anti-doping in sport that also informs reporting research on performance enhancement technologies more broadly. 2. Research on performance enhancement or anti-doping compliance Two complementary but distinct themes are consistently conflated in research looking at some aspect of drugs in sport. The first theme is where most research is intended; exploring the role and impact of performance enhancing technologies on some aspect of the human condition. The second is how a fair chunk of research is reported; compliance with the World Anti-Doping Code (the Code). This distinction is important because there is a difference between using a performance enhancing technology and Code compliance. Article 2 of the Code defines “doping” as one of 10 Anti-Doping Rule Violations (ADRV). Only the first two ADRV relate to the actual or attempted use of a drug. The remaining eight relate to, among other things, trafficking, out-of-competition testing, being complicit in covering up an ADRV, or associating with a person serving a sanction for an ADRV. For example, under Article 2.10 a person can be labelled as a “doper” for training with a person sanctioned under the Code. That is, they can be labelled as a “doper” having never actually used any drug. As a consequence, to suggest that http://dx.doi.org/10.1016/j.peh.2016.07.001 2211-2669/© 2016 Published by Elsevier Ltd.
“doping” is the same as an athlete or other person using a performance enhancing technology is incorrect. A second issue that emerges is that the evidence underpinning many of the drugs thought to be performance enhancing is less than certain. For example, the evidence that human growth hormone is performance enhancing can be best described as equivocal (López, 2013). As a consequence, it would be more precise to describe “doping” research as looking at the use of a drug thought or constructed to be performance enhancing. This raises a third issue in terms of exactly what research on “doping” is about. There is a difference between a drug which is performance enhancing and a drug which appears on the Prohibited List (Waddington, Christiansen, Gleaves, Hoberman, & Møller, 2013). For example, marijuana appears on the In-Competition Prohibited List despite having little or no performance enhancing benefit. In contrast, caffeine is absent from the Prohibited List despite robust evidence it improves sporting performance (Burke, Desbrow, & Spriet, 2013). Thus, to claim research is about doping suggests that it is about marijuana rather than caffeine, which contradicts claims such research provides insight into performance enhancing substances. These three issues mean that describing research as being about some aspect of “doping” (e.g. “doping prevention”) is inappropriately ambiguous for the purposes of academic debate. Instead, research might be more appropriately characterised as being about substances or methods that appear on the Prohibited List. However, instability on the Prohibited List introduces other problems. The annual update to the List means new substances and methods are added, while others are removed. This is particularly problematic for research claiming some insight into the “psychology of doping”. It is nonsensical to claim research explaining the psychology of doping was irrelevant to athletes consuming mildronate at 2359 on 31 December 2015 somehow explains their behaviour at 0001 on 01 January 2016. It is equally nonsensical to claim that the psychology of doping explained sports-related caffeine consumption on 31 December 2003 but would fail to do so on 01 January 2004. Such problems can be averted by being very clear whether the aims of research are about understanding some aspect of performance enhancing technology use and the human condition, or compliance with the Code. The former enables research to contribute to, for example, the psychology of substance use or performance enhancement. The latter enables research to contribute to, for example, the sociology of compliance. The Sports Drug Control Model (SDCM) (Donovan, Egger, Kapernick, & Mendoza, 2002)
2
Editorial / Performance Enhancement & Health 5 (2016) 1–3
uses the rich traditions of the social cognitive model to propose an explanation for athlete’s decisions to comply with the Code. Models such as the SDCM avoid the difficulties that arise from conflating research exploring substance use and performance enhancement with research aimed at exploring the consequences and implications of the Code. As such, researchers should be very clear from the outset about whether their research is about substance use, performance enhancement, or Code compliance.
3. Clean and dirty athletes Research on both performance enhancement in sport and the Code tends to fall into the politicised language of private interests used to advance agendas rather than contribute to academic or public debate. The most obvious version of this is the use of “clean” and “dirty” to describe an athlete or support person (cf Englar-Carlson, Gleaves, Macedo, & Lee, 2016). Being “clean” invokes the sense of a person who has fulfilled the moral expectations of Coakley’s (2015) Great Sporting Myth, at least in terms of the Prohibited List, and sends a signal of being acceptable as an appropriately virtuous and worthy member of sporting society. Being labelled a “dirty” athlete or support person signals a failure of the moral test of sport, attributing a critical flaw to that person that precludes them from participating in sporting societies. The implication arising from this language is the judgement about the moral status of the athlete or support person, and, consequently their status as a person (or, to adapt Henne, 2015, a sports-citizen). Declaring a person “clean” or “dirty” this way invokes a range of well understood social processes with regards to stereotyping and prejudice (e.g. Brown, 2011). The creation of a “clean versus dirty” social category parallels tropes of “good versus evil” or “light versus dark” expedient for the war-discourses adopted by the anti-doping movement (Wagner & Pedersen, 2014). However, such war discourse also parallels the language of prejudice, including racism (e.g. “clean Aryans” and “dirty Jews”) and sexism (the gender hierarchy). The language of prejudice further invokes some of the more disturbing aspects of racism by suggesting that a “clean” person is more valuable, and that those labelled “dirty” need to be modified (sanitised) in some way to have value in a sporting society, or eliminated from a sporting society. Such language may be useful for political reasons, to sell media copy, or for peers within sporting societies to stigmatise and ostracise an individual, but it should be used by academics only after considerable critical reflection on the implications of such language. For example, academics might usefully reflect on the implications of labelling the 12 year old child sanctioned for committing an ADRV as “dirty” before using such terminology (Teetzel & Mazzucco, 2014). While academics who use such labels may simply be reflecting language of the lay-person, labelling another person as “clean” or “dirty” only serves to reinforce unhelpful prejudice. At best it distracts from potentially important messages underpinning research on substance use, performance enhancement or Code compliance. At worst, the use of such language potentially contributes to the harms arising from prejudice used to justify treating “dirty” athletes or support personnel as definitionally inferior (e.g. concerns around the human rights implications of the Code, especially for children; Mazanov, 2017; Teetzel & Mazzucco, 2014). As educated elites, academics understand the social and societal implications of using labels with prejudicial implications, either through their studies or personal experience. This understanding means that academics, as thought-leaders, should hold an uncompromising standard that seeks to understand rather than contribute to prejudice, especially when it comes to producing research aimed at improving the human condition or research with potential to
cause harm. Unless research has a justifiable reason for using such terms (e.g. directly addressing prejudice or social construction of such terms), there is no reason for researchers in this field to use the labels “clean” or “dirty”.
4. Justifying departures from anti-doping The social norms about reporting research in the field have implications for the integrity of academic debate. Anti-doping is considered the default position that needs no justification or rationale; it is often presented as intrinsically or self-justifying. For example, the Introduction or Literature Reviews for research on anti-doping typically assert a contribution to protecting the integrity of sport. The Discussion or Conclusions of the research is then framed relative to how it informs promotion of the antidoping ideology. Such research fails to acknowledge alternative views. For example, the implications of the Results or Findings for promoting harm minimisation approaches to drug control for sport are rarely considered. Importantly, the anti-doping default norm means reviewers often fail to identify the failure to consider alternative views. Such self-censoring by researchers and reviewers inevitably undermines the integrity of academic debate. By comparison, research that takes a different view has to expend effort explaining why the departure from the anti-doping default is justified. For example, research offering other views on managing performance enhancing technologies in sport (e.g. harm minimisation and stakeholder theory) first has to develop arguments as to where anti-doping has failed with regards to the integrity of sport or other criteria before developing arguments for the different views. If such a justification is absent, reviewers often ask for a justification to be included. Even when the justification is present, some reviewers reject the alternative views as being unjustifiable relative to the anti-doping default norm. While it is the task of Editors to mediate and moderate such issues, the fact that it happens at all is indicative of the social norms around reporting research in the field. The anti-doping default in reporting research bears striking similarity to hegemonic masculinity or the gender hierarchy, where masculinity is the default standard by which femininity is deemed inferior (cf. Connell & Messerschmidt, 2005). The hierarchy in research on “doping” is that anti-doping is the default standard by which any other way of understanding performance enhancing technologies in sport is deemed inferior. The anti-doping hierarchy manifests itself in the implicit assumptions made by researchers and reviewers in relation to reporting research (at least in the experience of Performance Enhancement and Health). While the anti-doping hierarchy presents risks to the integrity of academic debate in terms of differential (inequitable) standards, it also offers a tremendous opportunity. Research which reports on anti-doping needs to justify the approach to the same standard as research on alternative approaches. Rather than implicitly accepting anti-doping as the default, researchers need to at least explicitly acknowledge and at most articulate the debate around doping and anti-doping as part of justifying and contextualising research in the Introduction and/or Literature Review. Equally, the Discussion and/or Conclusions should consider the implications of the Results or Findings in the context of the debate. Explicit engagement with multiple views on doping and antidoping in sport would have an effect on increasing critical scholarship in the area, increasing the richness of arguments both in support of and contradicting doping and anti-doping. For example, research that reports how the evidence and argument both supports and contradicts doping and anti-doping offers more balanced accounts, interpreting the meaning of results from different points of view. Such discussion improves the integrity of academic debate
Editorial / Performance Enhancement & Health 5 (2016) 1–3
and therefore public debate. That is, more balanced academic discussion leads to a richer set of arguments that enables the public to access different points of view in coming to some judgement about the best way to manage performance enhancing technologies in sport. 5. Researcher bias The influence of researcher bias is well understood (e.g. Finlay & Gough, 2008), with research on “doping” no different. Researcher bias often emerges as a function of the anti-doping hierarchy. Key indicators of bias in this regard emerges from language that describes athletes as “clean”, designing research to inform “doping prevention”, or interpreting how results can be used to promote “drug free sport” or the “fight against doping”. Critical review of such research raises questions about researcher bias, and whether the research was designed and interpreted to promote the antidoping ideology rather than develop the evidence-base to inform debate. For example, research designed to promote anti-doping may fail to detect, report or interpret research that may be injurious to the ideological aims of the anti-doping movement. The problem of such bias also emerges for those who oppose antidoping, although the subjective positions of researchers with such views tend to be more explicit in the context of the justification for departing from the hierarchy. Researcher bias in research on “doping” matters as it has the potential to undermine the integrity of research in terms of validity and reliability, and consequently undermine the contribution of that research to both academic and public debate. Given researcher bias is well understood, so too is the remedy in terms of reflexive practice (Finlay & Gough, 2008); explicit acknowledgement of how the bias may have shaped the design and interpretation of results. This gives consumers of research important information in assessing the relative merits of that research. To be clear, the issue at stake is the explicit acknowledgement of bias rather than requiring researchers to conceal the bias through carefully constructing papers to appear neutral, aloof and detached. Researchers should be free to form strong opinions based on evidence and argument they and others have produced, or to remain aloof alongside an explanation of no particular interest in relation to the topic. Equally, political interest should also contribute to the evidence base that informs academic debate; researchers should be able to argue their political interests to ensure multiple perspectives are considered. The reasoning also applies to vested interests, such as reporting research conducted by National Anti-Doping Organisations informing the pursuit of prescribed or legislated organisational objectives that informs both academic and public debate. In doing so, researcher bias (whether individual or organisational) needs to be acknowledged as an integral part of the research process as it forms an essential piece of information shaping how consumers interpret the research. My position is that drug control for sport is essential, and that there is sufficient evidence that the anti-doping policy is incapable of achieving meaningful drug control. However, I remain open to (and hopeful of) being convinced otherwise. 6. Implications for reporting researchers Valuable lessons can be taken from the way research is reported relative to performance enhancement in sport, both for research on performance enhancement in sport and performance enhancement in other social contexts (e.g. cosmetic, dance, education, mood, socialising or work). Firstly, researchers need to be very clear what
3
their research is about. The difference between research on the use of a performance enhancing technology and responses to the regulation of that technology is an important distinction. Other distinctions are likely to manifest as research in the space continues to expand, making clarity all the more important. Secondly, research on performance enhancement needs to be mindful to avoid contributing to prejudice arising from the emergence of new technologies, especially when that technology disrupts social processes. For example, stigmatisation at the emergence of “on-line dating” has been replaced with normalisation (Rosewarne, 2016). Integrity of academic debate is best served by studying how prejudice influences social health in relation to performance enhancing technology rather than contribute to prejudice. Thirdly, research reporting the implications of performance enhancing technologies should take a pluralist rather than monist approach. If a monist position is to be taken, the justification for doing so provides valuable context to the research. Research in the field must remain wary of social norms that create implicit hierarchies which ultimately harm the integrity of academic debate. Both editors and reviewers have a duty of care to see that such implicit hierarchies are made explicit and integrated into the reporting of research. Finally, the influence of researcher bias in and reflexive discussion of the research process needs to become a normal part of reporting. It provides valuable context to how implicit bias may have shaped the research design and outcomes, if at all. While potentially onerous for researchers, this can only serve to improve confidence in the integrity of academic debate. Of course, bias also needs to be acknowledged by journal editors and reviewers. It is essential for both to recognise disagreement with a point of view and whether the point of view is justified by evidence and argument based on sound scholarship. References Brown, R. (2011). Prejudice: Its social psychology. Chichester, West Sussex: John Wiley & Sons. Burke, L., Desbrow, B., & Spriet, L. (2013). Caffeine for sports performance. Champaign, IL: Human Kinetics. Coakley, J. (2015). Assessing the sociology of sport: On cultural sensibilities and the great sport myth. International Review for the Sociology of Sport, 50(4–5), 402–406. Connell, R. W., & Messerschmidt, J. W. (2005). Hegemonic masculinity rethinking the concept. Gender & Society, 19(6), 829–859. Donovan, R. J., Egger, G., Kapernick, V., & Mendoza, J. (2002). A conceptual framework for achieving performance enhancing drug compliance in sport. Sports Medicine, 32(4), 269–284. Englar-Carlson, M., Gleaves, J., Macedo, E., & Lee, H. (2016). What about the clean athletes? The need for positive psychology in anti-doping research. Performance Enhancement & Health, 4(3–4), 116–122. Finlay, L., & Gough, B. (Eds.). (2008). Reflexivity: A practical guide for researchers in health and social sciences. Oxford: Blackwell Science Ltd. Henne, K. (2015). Testing for athlete citizenship. New Brunswick, NJ: Rutgers University Press. López, B. (2013). Creating fear: The social construction of human Growth Hormone as a dangerous doping drug. International Review for the Sociology of Sport, 48(2), 220–237. Mazanov, J. (2017). Managing drugs in sport. Abingdon: Routledge. Rosewarne, L. (2016). Intimacy on the Internet: Media representations of online connections. Routledge. Teetzel, S., & Mazzucco, M. (2014). Minor problems: The recognition of young athletes in the development of international anti-doping policies. The International Journal of the History of Sport, 31(8), 914–933. Waddington, I., Christiansen, A. V., Gleaves, J., Hoberman, J., & Møller, V. (2013). Recreational drug use and sport: Time for a WADA rethink? Performance Enhancement & Health, 2(2), 41–47. Wagner, U., & Pedersen, K. M. (2014). The IOC and the doping issue—An institutional discursive approach to organizational identity construction. Sport Management Review, 17(2), 160–173.
Contents lists available at ScienceDirect
Performance Enhancement & Health journal homepage: www.elsevier.com/locate/peh
Editorial
Some guidelines for reporting research on performance enhancement
1. Introduction The social construction of doping in sport has begun to dominate both lay and academic engagement with performance enhancing technologies, and especially drugs with performance enhancing implications. The politics demand that anti-doping be characterised as an inherently virtuous pursuit and doping vile and ignominious corruption (see Mazanov, 2017). While such characterisations may be appropriate to advance political interests in international sport and media interests in selling content, the political demands that doping and anti-doping be constructed in particular ways has the potential to interfere with the integrity of academic debate of, among other things, the nexus between performance enhancement and health. That is, politicised research stands to undermine the trust consumers of research have in the producers of that research. This editorial discusses four issues that have emerged from research submitted to Performance Enhancement and Health on doping that have the potential to undermine the integrity of academic debate. These four issues are used to develop guidelines on the reporting of research on doping and anti-doping in sport that also informs reporting research on performance enhancement technologies more broadly. 2. Research on performance enhancement or anti-doping compliance Two complementary but distinct themes are consistently conflated in research looking at some aspect of drugs in sport. The first theme is where most research is intended; exploring the role and impact of performance enhancing technologies on some aspect of the human condition. The second is how a fair chunk of research is reported; compliance with the World Anti-Doping Code (the Code). This distinction is important because there is a difference between using a performance enhancing technology and Code compliance. Article 2 of the Code defines “doping” as one of 10 Anti-Doping Rule Violations (ADRV). Only the first two ADRV relate to the actual or attempted use of a drug. The remaining eight relate to, among other things, trafficking, out-of-competition testing, being complicit in covering up an ADRV, or associating with a person serving a sanction for an ADRV. For example, under Article 2.10 a person can be labelled as a “doper” for training with a person sanctioned under the Code. That is, they can be labelled as a “doper” having never actually used any drug. As a consequence, to suggest that http://dx.doi.org/10.1016/j.peh.2016.07.001 2211-2669/© 2016 Published by Elsevier Ltd.
“doping” is the same as an athlete or other person using a performance enhancing technology is incorrect. A second issue that emerges is that the evidence underpinning many of the drugs thought to be performance enhancing is less than certain. For example, the evidence that human growth hormone is performance enhancing can be best described as equivocal (López, 2013). As a consequence, it would be more precise to describe “doping” research as looking at the use of a drug thought or constructed to be performance enhancing. This raises a third issue in terms of exactly what research on “doping” is about. There is a difference between a drug which is performance enhancing and a drug which appears on the Prohibited List (Waddington, Christiansen, Gleaves, Hoberman, & Møller, 2013). For example, marijuana appears on the In-Competition Prohibited List despite having little or no performance enhancing benefit. In contrast, caffeine is absent from the Prohibited List despite robust evidence it improves sporting performance (Burke, Desbrow, & Spriet, 2013). Thus, to claim research is about doping suggests that it is about marijuana rather than caffeine, which contradicts claims such research provides insight into performance enhancing substances. These three issues mean that describing research as being about some aspect of “doping” (e.g. “doping prevention”) is inappropriately ambiguous for the purposes of academic debate. Instead, research might be more appropriately characterised as being about substances or methods that appear on the Prohibited List. However, instability on the Prohibited List introduces other problems. The annual update to the List means new substances and methods are added, while others are removed. This is particularly problematic for research claiming some insight into the “psychology of doping”. It is nonsensical to claim research explaining the psychology of doping was irrelevant to athletes consuming mildronate at 2359 on 31 December 2015 somehow explains their behaviour at 0001 on 01 January 2016. It is equally nonsensical to claim that the psychology of doping explained sports-related caffeine consumption on 31 December 2003 but would fail to do so on 01 January 2004. Such problems can be averted by being very clear whether the aims of research are about understanding some aspect of performance enhancing technology use and the human condition, or compliance with the Code. The former enables research to contribute to, for example, the psychology of substance use or performance enhancement. The latter enables research to contribute to, for example, the sociology of compliance. The Sports Drug Control Model (SDCM) (Donovan, Egger, Kapernick, & Mendoza, 2002)
2
Editorial / Performance Enhancement & Health 5 (2016) 1–3
uses the rich traditions of the social cognitive model to propose an explanation for athlete’s decisions to comply with the Code. Models such as the SDCM avoid the difficulties that arise from conflating research exploring substance use and performance enhancement with research aimed at exploring the consequences and implications of the Code. As such, researchers should be very clear from the outset about whether their research is about substance use, performance enhancement, or Code compliance.
3. Clean and dirty athletes Research on both performance enhancement in sport and the Code tends to fall into the politicised language of private interests used to advance agendas rather than contribute to academic or public debate. The most obvious version of this is the use of “clean” and “dirty” to describe an athlete or support person (cf Englar-Carlson, Gleaves, Macedo, & Lee, 2016). Being “clean” invokes the sense of a person who has fulfilled the moral expectations of Coakley’s (2015) Great Sporting Myth, at least in terms of the Prohibited List, and sends a signal of being acceptable as an appropriately virtuous and worthy member of sporting society. Being labelled a “dirty” athlete or support person signals a failure of the moral test of sport, attributing a critical flaw to that person that precludes them from participating in sporting societies. The implication arising from this language is the judgement about the moral status of the athlete or support person, and, consequently their status as a person (or, to adapt Henne, 2015, a sports-citizen). Declaring a person “clean” or “dirty” this way invokes a range of well understood social processes with regards to stereotyping and prejudice (e.g. Brown, 2011). The creation of a “clean versus dirty” social category parallels tropes of “good versus evil” or “light versus dark” expedient for the war-discourses adopted by the anti-doping movement (Wagner & Pedersen, 2014). However, such war discourse also parallels the language of prejudice, including racism (e.g. “clean Aryans” and “dirty Jews”) and sexism (the gender hierarchy). The language of prejudice further invokes some of the more disturbing aspects of racism by suggesting that a “clean” person is more valuable, and that those labelled “dirty” need to be modified (sanitised) in some way to have value in a sporting society, or eliminated from a sporting society. Such language may be useful for political reasons, to sell media copy, or for peers within sporting societies to stigmatise and ostracise an individual, but it should be used by academics only after considerable critical reflection on the implications of such language. For example, academics might usefully reflect on the implications of labelling the 12 year old child sanctioned for committing an ADRV as “dirty” before using such terminology (Teetzel & Mazzucco, 2014). While academics who use such labels may simply be reflecting language of the lay-person, labelling another person as “clean” or “dirty” only serves to reinforce unhelpful prejudice. At best it distracts from potentially important messages underpinning research on substance use, performance enhancement or Code compliance. At worst, the use of such language potentially contributes to the harms arising from prejudice used to justify treating “dirty” athletes or support personnel as definitionally inferior (e.g. concerns around the human rights implications of the Code, especially for children; Mazanov, 2017; Teetzel & Mazzucco, 2014). As educated elites, academics understand the social and societal implications of using labels with prejudicial implications, either through their studies or personal experience. This understanding means that academics, as thought-leaders, should hold an uncompromising standard that seeks to understand rather than contribute to prejudice, especially when it comes to producing research aimed at improving the human condition or research with potential to
cause harm. Unless research has a justifiable reason for using such terms (e.g. directly addressing prejudice or social construction of such terms), there is no reason for researchers in this field to use the labels “clean” or “dirty”.
4. Justifying departures from anti-doping The social norms about reporting research in the field have implications for the integrity of academic debate. Anti-doping is considered the default position that needs no justification or rationale; it is often presented as intrinsically or self-justifying. For example, the Introduction or Literature Reviews for research on anti-doping typically assert a contribution to protecting the integrity of sport. The Discussion or Conclusions of the research is then framed relative to how it informs promotion of the antidoping ideology. Such research fails to acknowledge alternative views. For example, the implications of the Results or Findings for promoting harm minimisation approaches to drug control for sport are rarely considered. Importantly, the anti-doping default norm means reviewers often fail to identify the failure to consider alternative views. Such self-censoring by researchers and reviewers inevitably undermines the integrity of academic debate. By comparison, research that takes a different view has to expend effort explaining why the departure from the anti-doping default is justified. For example, research offering other views on managing performance enhancing technologies in sport (e.g. harm minimisation and stakeholder theory) first has to develop arguments as to where anti-doping has failed with regards to the integrity of sport or other criteria before developing arguments for the different views. If such a justification is absent, reviewers often ask for a justification to be included. Even when the justification is present, some reviewers reject the alternative views as being unjustifiable relative to the anti-doping default norm. While it is the task of Editors to mediate and moderate such issues, the fact that it happens at all is indicative of the social norms around reporting research in the field. The anti-doping default in reporting research bears striking similarity to hegemonic masculinity or the gender hierarchy, where masculinity is the default standard by which femininity is deemed inferior (cf. Connell & Messerschmidt, 2005). The hierarchy in research on “doping” is that anti-doping is the default standard by which any other way of understanding performance enhancing technologies in sport is deemed inferior. The anti-doping hierarchy manifests itself in the implicit assumptions made by researchers and reviewers in relation to reporting research (at least in the experience of Performance Enhancement and Health). While the anti-doping hierarchy presents risks to the integrity of academic debate in terms of differential (inequitable) standards, it also offers a tremendous opportunity. Research which reports on anti-doping needs to justify the approach to the same standard as research on alternative approaches. Rather than implicitly accepting anti-doping as the default, researchers need to at least explicitly acknowledge and at most articulate the debate around doping and anti-doping as part of justifying and contextualising research in the Introduction and/or Literature Review. Equally, the Discussion and/or Conclusions should consider the implications of the Results or Findings in the context of the debate. Explicit engagement with multiple views on doping and antidoping in sport would have an effect on increasing critical scholarship in the area, increasing the richness of arguments both in support of and contradicting doping and anti-doping. For example, research that reports how the evidence and argument both supports and contradicts doping and anti-doping offers more balanced accounts, interpreting the meaning of results from different points of view. Such discussion improves the integrity of academic debate
Editorial / Performance Enhancement & Health 5 (2016) 1–3
and therefore public debate. That is, more balanced academic discussion leads to a richer set of arguments that enables the public to access different points of view in coming to some judgement about the best way to manage performance enhancing technologies in sport. 5. Researcher bias The influence of researcher bias is well understood (e.g. Finlay & Gough, 2008), with research on “doping” no different. Researcher bias often emerges as a function of the anti-doping hierarchy. Key indicators of bias in this regard emerges from language that describes athletes as “clean”, designing research to inform “doping prevention”, or interpreting how results can be used to promote “drug free sport” or the “fight against doping”. Critical review of such research raises questions about researcher bias, and whether the research was designed and interpreted to promote the antidoping ideology rather than develop the evidence-base to inform debate. For example, research designed to promote anti-doping may fail to detect, report or interpret research that may be injurious to the ideological aims of the anti-doping movement. The problem of such bias also emerges for those who oppose antidoping, although the subjective positions of researchers with such views tend to be more explicit in the context of the justification for departing from the hierarchy. Researcher bias in research on “doping” matters as it has the potential to undermine the integrity of research in terms of validity and reliability, and consequently undermine the contribution of that research to both academic and public debate. Given researcher bias is well understood, so too is the remedy in terms of reflexive practice (Finlay & Gough, 2008); explicit acknowledgement of how the bias may have shaped the design and interpretation of results. This gives consumers of research important information in assessing the relative merits of that research. To be clear, the issue at stake is the explicit acknowledgement of bias rather than requiring researchers to conceal the bias through carefully constructing papers to appear neutral, aloof and detached. Researchers should be free to form strong opinions based on evidence and argument they and others have produced, or to remain aloof alongside an explanation of no particular interest in relation to the topic. Equally, political interest should also contribute to the evidence base that informs academic debate; researchers should be able to argue their political interests to ensure multiple perspectives are considered. The reasoning also applies to vested interests, such as reporting research conducted by National Anti-Doping Organisations informing the pursuit of prescribed or legislated organisational objectives that informs both academic and public debate. In doing so, researcher bias (whether individual or organisational) needs to be acknowledged as an integral part of the research process as it forms an essential piece of information shaping how consumers interpret the research. My position is that drug control for sport is essential, and that there is sufficient evidence that the anti-doping policy is incapable of achieving meaningful drug control. However, I remain open to (and hopeful of) being convinced otherwise. 6. Implications for reporting researchers Valuable lessons can be taken from the way research is reported relative to performance enhancement in sport, both for research on performance enhancement in sport and performance enhancement in other social contexts (e.g. cosmetic, dance, education, mood, socialising or work). Firstly, researchers need to be very clear what
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their research is about. The difference between research on the use of a performance enhancing technology and responses to the regulation of that technology is an important distinction. Other distinctions are likely to manifest as research in the space continues to expand, making clarity all the more important. Secondly, research on performance enhancement needs to be mindful to avoid contributing to prejudice arising from the emergence of new technologies, especially when that technology disrupts social processes. For example, stigmatisation at the emergence of “on-line dating” has been replaced with normalisation (Rosewarne, 2016). Integrity of academic debate is best served by studying how prejudice influences social health in relation to performance enhancing technology rather than contribute to prejudice. Thirdly, research reporting the implications of performance enhancing technologies should take a pluralist rather than monist approach. If a monist position is to be taken, the justification for doing so provides valuable context to the research. Research in the field must remain wary of social norms that create implicit hierarchies which ultimately harm the integrity of academic debate. Both editors and reviewers have a duty of care to see that such implicit hierarchies are made explicit and integrated into the reporting of research. Finally, the influence of researcher bias in and reflexive discussion of the research process needs to become a normal part of reporting. It provides valuable context to how implicit bias may have shaped the research design and outcomes, if at all. While potentially onerous for researchers, this can only serve to improve confidence in the integrity of academic debate. Of course, bias also needs to be acknowledged by journal editors and reviewers. It is essential for both to recognise disagreement with a point of view and whether the point of view is justified by evidence and argument based on sound scholarship. References Brown, R. (2011). Prejudice: Its social psychology. Chichester, West Sussex: John Wiley & Sons. Burke, L., Desbrow, B., & Spriet, L. (2013). Caffeine for sports performance. Champaign, IL: Human Kinetics. Coakley, J. (2015). Assessing the sociology of sport: On cultural sensibilities and the great sport myth. International Review for the Sociology of Sport, 50(4–5), 402–406. Connell, R. W., & Messerschmidt, J. W. (2005). Hegemonic masculinity rethinking the concept. Gender & Society, 19(6), 829–859. Donovan, R. J., Egger, G., Kapernick, V., & Mendoza, J. (2002). A conceptual framework for achieving performance enhancing drug compliance in sport. Sports Medicine, 32(4), 269–284. Englar-Carlson, M., Gleaves, J., Macedo, E., & Lee, H. (2016). What about the clean athletes? The need for positive psychology in anti-doping research. Performance Enhancement & Health, 4(3–4), 116–122. Finlay, L., & Gough, B. (Eds.). (2008). Reflexivity: A practical guide for researchers in health and social sciences. Oxford: Blackwell Science Ltd. Henne, K. (2015). Testing for athlete citizenship. New Brunswick, NJ: Rutgers University Press. López, B. (2013). Creating fear: The social construction of human Growth Hormone as a dangerous doping drug. International Review for the Sociology of Sport, 48(2), 220–237. Mazanov, J. (2017). Managing drugs in sport. Abingdon: Routledge. Rosewarne, L. (2016). Intimacy on the Internet: Media representations of online connections. Routledge. Teetzel, S., & Mazzucco, M. (2014). Minor problems: The recognition of young athletes in the development of international anti-doping policies. The International Journal of the History of Sport, 31(8), 914–933. Waddington, I., Christiansen, A. V., Gleaves, J., Hoberman, J., & Møller, V. (2013). Recreational drug use and sport: Time for a WADA rethink? Performance Enhancement & Health, 2(2), 41–47. Wagner, U., & Pedersen, K. M. (2014). The IOC and the doping issue—An institutional discursive approach to organizational identity construction. Sport Management Review, 17(2), 160–173.