Today’s Rant is brought to you by our local health club’s indoor triathlon, without which, I’d be watching the black lines at the bottom of the pool right now. At least I can visualize swimming …. 28 29 30 and FLIP! 1 2 3 …
What a week it’s been. I knew to expect more unusual twists and turns in the case, but this week’s topper was one that I would never have guessed. I’ll get to that a bit later, but first a note about terminology.
An emailer pointed out to me that what I’ve been referring to as transcripts over at TBV aren’t quite transcripts. They’re summaries or notes of the testimony written up by TBV, himself, who is attending the hearings. He’s been doing a great job. I’m writing my posts and updates in-between doing my day job and some other obligations. I wish I had the time off to have attended the hearings in person. Not just to satisfy my journalistic curiosity, but also to show my support for Floyd.
Even when I have the time to watch or listen in to the sessions live, the video feed is not always cooperative, so I depend on TBV’s summaries to know what’s being said. And the on demand streaming video isn’t always all that helpful after the fact, either, as I’m trying to listen to yesterday afternoon’s session, but the sound is stuttering something big time, so it’s more than a tad bit annoying. Enough of that, time to move on.
“Peer-Reviewed Science”
One interesting and important exchange yesterday occurred during the testimony of Dr. Wilhelm Schnäzer. Dr. Schnäzer is the author of the “Cologne Study” that USADA wanted to introduce as evidence. During the discussion as to whether it could be introduced, Chris Campbell asked Dr. Schnäzer if the work had been peer reviewed.
Dr. Schnäzer gave an interesting answer, and one that the panel appears to not have fully understood. He said that it was being reviewed, but that the review wasn’t complete, and once the review was complete, it would be accepted for publication.
What you have to understand is that while a paper can be presented at a conference after being reviewed, that review is not the same as would occur for publication. Most often, the review for conference presentations is of the paper’s abstract (or summary), and not the full paper. So it’s a mistake to say that Dr. Schnäzer’s paper has what amounts to the academic world’s “Good Housekeeping Seal of Approval.”
Because the paper has not been fully reviewed for publication, and the reviewers’ comments haven’t come back, there could be drastic changes in the presentation and conclusions of the article before it’s approved. And those changes could substantially alter the understanding of the subject Dr. Schnäzer’s paper deals with.
A reviewer, for instance, might find problems with the data, with calculations based on the data, or with the interpretation of the data. For the paper to pass the review, those problems would need to be corrected. It was a mistake for the panel to allow the testimony on the assumption that it was all but published. By the time it is published, it could have an entirely different set of conclusions and meaning than what was presented on Saturday.
That being the case, Dr. Schnäzer’s testimony about the paper, while I’m sure it was truthful, might also be wrong. And any decisions made based on his testimony could be wrong, as well.
I’ve seen peer review up close. When I was growing up, my father at times was a reviewer of articles submitted to certain physics journals. (In the world of physics, they call these people “referees” and they are supposed to remain anonymous.) I often heard my father talk of papers that had many problems, or were just plain wrong. By the time those papers made it to publication (if they made it to publication), they would be significantly different than the original version.
So all that’s to say, peer review is only complete when all the comments are back and all the corrections, adjustments or changes are made. Dr. Schnäzer’s paper hasn’t made it that far, yet.
The Other Side’s Omerta
Many articles about doping in the world of cycling talk of some sense of “Omerta” among riders. An unwillingness to talk about doping, who’s doing it, how it’s being done, and so forth.
But there’s another Omerta in the anti-doping world, and it’s less well known. And that is the rule that no anti-doping lab personnel are allowed to assist an athlete’s defense in any way. And that means whenever officials from one lab are asked about the practices of another, you get variations on a theme of “there are no problems, the lab in question does excellent work.”
Under cross examination yesterday, Don Catlin spoke of that Omerta, as TBV summarized in this exchange with Maurice Suh, one of Landis’ lawyers:
q: you testified you received grief for testifying on the zack lund case?
a: yes.q: what was the source?
a: I don’t think wada was very happy.q: Olivier Rabin.
a: I don’t think he was very happy.q: did he contact you before the hearing.
a: no, he was there, and they spoke to me.q: what did they say.
a: before the case started, it was made clear to me it was not a good idea for me to do this.q: who is Olivier Rabin?
a: Scientific director of WADA.
When circumstances warrant, lab personnel should be allowed to speak truthfully about anti-doping tests and procedures, even when what they have to say doesn’t reflect well on another lab. The goal here should be not only to catch the dopers, but to make sure that the detection system is beyond reproach. Without transparency, and without honest public discussion of the lab’s processes, substandard work can be foisted off as being good. And athletes may be found guilty of doping when the lab work is not up to par.
We need a system that is open and transparent, not a system where everyone slaps each other on the back and says what a wonderful job they’re all doing.
The Infamous Call
Greg LeMond parachuted in to the Landis hearings on Thursday and delivered a bombshell. The one we expected was testimony where he implies that Floyd Landis confessed to him about doping. The one we didn’t expect was the revelation that Will Geoghegan had made a threatening phone call to him the night before he testified.
In an instant, all of the hard work to rehabilitate Floyd’s image came crashing down. And it’s dramatically changed the coverage of the story. Gone is much consideration about the science and the dispute between the anti-doping labs and Team Landis over whether this is a positive drug test. Gone is the public discussion of whether LNDD’s work is up to international standards. It’s been replaced by a story about how far one side would go to win.
The irony, of course, is that the WADA Omerta is its own kind of witness tampering. But Geoghegan’s phone call was beyond the pale. People who were sitting on the fence, waiting to see how things would shake out have reacted quickly and angrily on various discussion boards and blogs. I don’t blame them for being angry, but the anger should be focussed on the actions of one man, not on the actions of Team Landis.
In the apology that Geoghegan issued the following day, he stated that is was his action alone. Would that it wouldn’t have happened at all. At the worst possible moment, someone close to Floyd fell for the bait that USADA put out there. LeMond’s testimony will no doubt be of much less importance than the rest of USADA’s case, but Geoghegan’s call gave USADA the kind of publicity they couldn’t have bought.
Life In A Fishbowl
Unlike Floyd’s family, his close friends, or his defense team, none of us has been living under the glare and spotlight like they have for the last 10 months. This is most especially true for those closest to him. And when the case is over, we’ll all go back to our lives, and for the most part carry on. We may do a few things differently, but we won’t be financially affected, our jobs will go on, and so will our lives.
For Floyd Landis, the hearing this week is nothing less than a fight to determine his future. Everything hangs in the balance. He will either be cleared of the charges and be able to carry on as a bike racer (although, doubtless there would be an appeal to the Court of Arbitration for Sport) or he will have to start from square one. What people will remember him for is at stake.
Will he be known for standing up to the anti-doping system and proving his innocence, or will he be known as the first Tour de France champion to lose his title because of doping? Most likely, the doping charges will haunt him, regardless of the outcome. As Jason Sumner writes over at VeloNews:
Regardless of the outcome, which will either see Landis exonerated or stripped of his title and suspended for two years, he says the real damage has already been done.
“It will forever be connected to me,” Landis said. “Any time the Tour comes up or bicycle racing, I can’t imagine how that will ever change.”
Yesterday’s testimony gave Landis the first opportunity to tell his side of the story. To hear him tell it, he never doped, and he would never do so. In responding to Howard Jacobs final question, Landis summed up why the arbitration panel should believe him, saying:
Well they should believe me because people are defined by their principles and how they make their decisions. To me, bicycle racing was rewarding for the pure fact that I was proud of myself when I put the work into it, and I could see results and get something out of it.Whatever those results were, as long as I knew that I did the work, that I earned what I got, that was satisfying for me – obviously trying to win – some win more than others – but nevertheless, it’s a matter of who I am. And it wouldn’t serve any purpose for me to cheat and win the Tour because I wouldn’t be proud of it and that’s just not what the goal was in the end.
Earlier, he addressed comments he made about Greg LeMond in an Internet forum last November, as reported in VeloNews:
What I wrote [on the Internet] wasn’t wise. I’m sorry that I alluded to [what happened in his childhood], but he said I’m writing a book, so I could say whatever I wanted to. Then I tried to clarify that I did not admit to using testosterone, but he said he remembered differently. I said that’s not what happened, but no matter what I would not divulge [his secret] to the public.
Thursday night, apparently, Landis told some or all of the story of his first conversation with Greg LeMond to various people he thought would need to know. I don’t know when Will Geoghegan first heard of the conversation, but under the intense pressure, and feeling strongly about what was happening to his friend, he cracked. Perhaps only for a moment, but just the same, life in the fishbowl became too much.
That Floyd Landis and his family have held up so well in the current circumstances is a testament to their inner strength. Rarely in life are people tested so severely. While we all have our challenges, we should be thankful that most of us don’t have to live them out so publicly.
In Closing
Three days from now, the hearings wrap up. Well, until closing arguments are made, which will be at a later date (as yet undetermined). I’ll leave the strangeness of not having closing arguments done for another time. But I’ll say this: It seems to me that the arbitrators will (at least in their own minds) already be weighing the evidence before the closing arguments are made. By the time either side starts their summation, will it even matter? Or will the arbitrators minds already be made up? I hope not, but time will tell.
Rant–Excellent point about the omertà on the WADA side–and you’re right to use the word. As Bill Hue said, “In the sense of coerced testimony, Catlin’s presentation would be the basis of an argument that a lab director’s testimony has no credibility in a doping case, because it is only allowed to take the party line: Everything is fine, looks good to me, no problem!” (And Catlin was being taken to task merely over whether a given substance sould be on the prohibited list or not.) As you say, surely this is witness-tampering, too.
–marc
In my opinion, closed systems just don’t work. When you write the rules, can change the rules, and interpret the rules, of course you’re going to win.