Sometimes cheats win. (This seems true, though very unsatisfactory.)

So, if you want to win, firstly play well, but secondly be prepared to cheat. Is that right? This approach seems to lack virtue, though it might be the best way to bring victory in sport. But I thought that sport was supposed to be about values and virtues, such as fair play. This puzzles me.

Here are some more examples of puzzles in philosophy of sport:

Some people want to say that Sport is Art. I think to myself: “No, it’s not!” I can see how sport has aesthetic qualities (I understand what a beautiful goal looks like), and some sports are judged in part according to these aesthetic qualities (e.g. gymnastic sports). But that’s not enough to make sport into art. Olympic art competitions ceased after 1948, and no more Olympic medals for the arts were awarded. Why? I want to say: “Because art isn’t sport, and sport isn’t art. They may be compared in various ways and they may relate in various ways, but they are different things” (see Parry 1987).

Some people want to say that Sport is Religion. I think to myself: “No, it’s not!” I can see how sport has quasi-religious qualities (“He worships Chelsea!”), and might perform quasi-religious functions in society (“Golf is his religion!”). But that’s not enough to make sport into religion. They may be compared in various ways and they may relate in various ways, but they are different things. We don’t play rugby in church (see Parry 2007).

Some people want to say that Sport is Drama. I think to myself: “No, it’s not!” I can see how sport has dramatic qualities (“Winning 1-0, 3 minutes to go – the tension is killing me!”). But that’s not enough to make sport into drama. They may be compared in various ways, but they are different things. We don’t go to the theatre to watch a badminton game.

Well, I may think these things, but what makes me think I’m right about them?

I’m kind of puzzled about these issues. I hear people making claims about the nature of sport and I react sceptically. But then I find it difficult to defend myself against their claims – we get into arguments that can get very difficult and complicated, and it’s difficult to see one’s way through.

I ask myself: “Why do people want to say these things, that seem so wrongheaded to me? They must think that what they say is sensible, otherwise they wouldn’t say it. Maybe, even, they think they are right”. I ask myself: “Do I have any reason to think that I’m right, and they are wrong? Can I provide persuasive arguments in support of my positions? Or is it just a matter of personal choice as to how we use words?”

To answer these questions, I have to sort my head out. I have to try to think straight. I have to try to grasp the idea in a better way. I have to try to make the argument work out, to follow it through to its logical conclusion. This is philosophical thinking.

When we are puzzled about something, it is often because we are not thinking straight. We try to grasp some idea, but we fail to understand it; or we try to follow some argument, but it doesn’t seem to work out. Our thinking gets screwed up – we can’t see our way through. That is when we need to use philosophical thinking skills.

Philosophy unties the knots in our thinking;

hence its results must be simple,

but philosophizing has to be as complicated as the knots it unties.

Wittgenstein, Zettel §452

Let me announce my simple result in advance.

My simple thesis is: without virtue there can be no victory in sport.

But we will have to do some (perhaps complicated) philosophical work to show how we achieve this result, and to show what it actually means.

As Wittgenstein warns, the discussion (the argument) might get involved and complicated, but I will be keeping my eye on my simple result: without virtue, there is no victory in sport.

Now, we have to start somewhere, to find some ground, some basis for our argument. Let us begin with asking “What is sport?” Obviously, given the above, I shall resist calls to reduce sport to Art, Religion or Drama. Neither do I think that sport is Entertainment, Business, or Health. I’m looking for what sport is, in itself.

Now, people use the word “sport” to refer to all sorts of things. Hunting, shooting and fishing are “field sports”; bull-fighting is a “blood sport”; jogging is a “recreational sport”; chess and bridge are “mind sports”; dance wants to be dance-sport; yoga wants to be yoga-sport. Our question is: are all these things really sports? Does anything count as a sport, if someone wants to call it a sport? Well, maybe! But then, if so, these different things-that-are-called-sport would have such many, different and contradictory characteristics that we couldn’t say one thing about them all.

So, let’s narrow it down a bit. Thinking about the “sports” that we are here for – Olympic Sports –, is there anything that we can say that is true of them all? Is there some clear and simple account that we can give? One technique that philosophers have for addressing such questions is conceptual analysis, which involves the search for “logically necessary conditions” for the use of a word.

To begin with, they are all human activities. Animals might play, but they don’t have sport. You might ask: what about equestrian events? But these are human activities in which humans direct the activity of animals.

Secondly, they are physical activities – by which I mean that the physical element is crucial to the activity and its outcome, and thirdly it is physical skill that is at issue.

Fourthly, all sports are contests (competitions), governed by rules. Finally, sports are institutionalised, with national and international federations administering their affairs.

If we put these six “criteria” together, we arrive at a simple definition of sports as: institutionalised rule-governed contests of human physical skill.

The above definitional characteristics of sport (what we might call “logically necessary conditions” for the use of the word) do three jobs:

1. They provide defining features (characteristics) of sport

2. They provide a “demarcation criterion” (that is, they also tell you what sport is not)

3. They suggest accompanying values

This is illustrated in the following table:

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To take just two of these criteria, “rule-governed” and “contest”, it can be seen that they require adherence to certain virtues. You can’t have a contest without an implicit contract – a kind of promising to accept and obey the rules, which, in turn, are there to ensure the equal treatment of competitors and fairness of contest.

So, sports are made out of values and require the exercise of virtues. Without virtues (and values) there could be no competition. And, of course, there cannot be a victory without a competition. It follows that without virtue there can be no victory in sport.

(And, remember, that was my “simple thesis”.)

However, this does not mean that every victory is virtuous. Someone might indeed cheat to win. But the point is: he can’t do that unless there is a system (of virtue) in place that he can manipulate, exploit and abuse. The cheat is a liar and a parasite. He pretends to be one of us – he pretends to love the game he plays – and then he abuses the game and the trust of his fellow-participants. It is as if a friend lied in your face.

Let’s say you want to tell a lie and get away with it. In order for that to be possible, you need a system of true statements and a system of expectations that people will tell the truth. Without that system of virtue, your lie would not succeed. If everyone lied all the time, no-one would believe anyone, and your lie would be useless – it would not achieve what you want it to achieve. It is only possible for you to tell a successful lie if most people tell the truth most of the time – if there is a truth-telling game operating in society. The liar needs the truth-telling game, because his lie seeks to cheat the very system of virtue upon which his lie is parasitic. The liar is a cheat and a parasite.

It is the same with sport: the rule system of a sport announces a set of conditions and virtues. There shall be a pitch, of specified dimensions, with such-and-such line markings, and a goal, and maybe some flags. You have to do certain things; you can do this and that if you want to; but you can’t do five other things, and you will be punished if you do. Without this system, which is based on virtues, there is no game, and therefore no chance of victory. In order to win, you have actually to play the game, which requires you to follow the rules, and show virtue. If you showed no virtue (if you refused to accept the rules), you would be banished – your game could not even start.

Now, here’s what the cheat does (just like the liar): he accepts the social rules, and enters into a kind of “contract” with others to in order to “get in” on the activity and to establish the trust of others. There is an assurance and an implicit promise in here: “You can trust me, mate – you have my word on it!” But the cheat only stands by his promise until such time as breaking the rules (in secret – trying to get away with it) is to his advantage, in which case he is prepared to abuse your trust and reject his commitments and his responsibility for producing a good game. He pretends to accept the social rules, but is ready at any time to break them – he is a hypocrite and a chancer (an unscrupulous or dishonest opportunist).

So, I think we have shown what we set out to show: that without virtue there can be no victory in sport. Even the unvirtuous cheat cannot win without taking part in a competition; and a competition cannot exist without conditions and virtues having been agreed.

Maradona admitted that it was not the “Hand of God” that scored, but the hand of Maradona, and that he had done this intentionally. He laughed about it, saying he had “pickpocketed” the English. Well, that’s OK, if you are an Argentinian, and what you want to do is to get one over on the English. Fair enough – we had our pockets picked. But Maradona was supposed to be playing football, and football should be played without the hands. What Maradona was really saying was: “Yes, I cheated, and it doesn’t matter”. Sorry, but I disagree with that – it does matter. He abused the game, the opposition, the referee and the competition, and you can’t say that that is nothing. Sadly, he also damaged himself. His reputation as a man was forever tarnished. Actually, even Maradona now agrees with that. In 2008, he was interviewed by Tom Wells, and showed some guilt and regret – things that we only show if we think we have done wrong:

“We simply asked him, if he had the chance to go back and change the circumstances [...] and apologise for what he’d done, and at the same time restore his reputation with all England’s fans, would he do it”, Mr Wells said. And he said “Yes”. He said, “I’d like to go back and change history if I could” (Macey, 2008).

Phil Scolari, the Brazilian manager, is known for his saying: “The team that fouls best will win” (see Thomsen 2014, who calls this the “joga foulnita”), but that conflicts with Brazilian preference for the “joga bonita” (the beautiful game). And we would all prefer to remember the great Brazilian performances in history, rather than the cynical fouling in the Confederations Cup.

So, sport is a challenge, it challenges us to be virtuous. Yes, it’s possible to cheat. Yes, that might bring a victory. But what does that say about you?

It means you couldn’t win without cheating (you weren’t good enough)?

It means that you stand ready to lie and cheat (whenever necessary, if it will work)?

Of course, there will always be people who are tempted to cheat, and there will always be those who give in to temptation. But that does not make it right.

As Nissiotis said, from the point of view of Olympism:

Citius-altius-fortius is a dangerous enterprise on the threshold of power as aggression, violence and domination. But this is, precisely, the immense value of Olympic sports: they challenge people to react, to pass the test of power... (Nissiotis 1983, pp. 106–108).

Sport challenges you to learn from the virtues of sport, that you should become virtuous. Otherwise, you just don’t get it.

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References

Macey, J. 2008. Maradona says sorry for ‘hand of God’ goal. Available online: http://www.abc.net.au/news/2008-02-01/maradona-says-sorry-for-hand-of- god-goal/1029952, accessed on 06/06/2014.

Nissiotis, N. 1983. Psychological and Sociological Motives For Violence in Sport. Proceedings of the International Olympic Academy, pp. 95–108.

Parry, J. 1987. Sport, Art and the Aesthetic. Sport Science Review 12, 1989, pp. 15–20.

Parry, J. 2007. The ‘Religio Athletae’, Olympism and Peace [in Parry, J. et al., Spirituality and Sport, Routledge, 2007, pp. 201–214], reprinted in Georgiadis, K. and Syrigos, A., Olympic Truce – Sport as a Platform for Peace, Athens, International Olympic Truce Centre, 2009, pp. 37–49.

Thomsen, B. 2014. Joga Foulnita. Available online: https://medium.com/@The Cauldron/joga-foulnita-72a1425a730e, accessed on 10/06/2014.

Wittgenstein, L. 1967. Zettel. London, Blackwell.

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PARRY Jim, "Victory and Virtue in Sport", in: K. Georgiadis(ed.), Olympic values: Respect for diversity, 54th International Session for Young Participants (Ancient Olympia, 15-29/6/2014), International Olympic Academy, Athens, 2015, pp.169-176.

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