Gender testing in women’s Olympic sports leaves regulators in a hopeless situation

During a women’s qualifying match for the 2024 Olympic Games, Algerian Imane Khelif delivered a painful punch to the face of Italian Angela Carini, who withdrew from the fight after 46 seconds.

“I’ve never been hit that hard,” Carini told reporters after the match.

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

During that tournament — two days before it ended — judges disqualified Khelifa, who competes in the 66-kilogram (146-pound) weight class, and Taiwanese Lin Yu-ting, who competes in the 57-kilogram (126-pound) weight class. The IBA issued an official statement saying the women “did not meet the required qualification criteria and were found to have a competitive advantage over other competitors.”

So how, some may wonder, could Khelif and Lin fight at the 2024 Paris Olympics? What “necessary eligibility criteria” did the IBA use to make its ruling? And do those criteria give Khelif and Lin a competitive advantage?

The Turbulent History of Sex Testing

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

These are regulations designed to protect the spirit of fair play, protect the health and well-being of athletes, and protect the image and interests of the sport. They include rules regulating doping and genetic enhancement, setting age limits and weight categories, and, in the case of para-sport, establishing classes for competition.

Protective policies can also regulate whether athletes compete in male or female events. But history shows there are no clear-cut ways to determine gender—and no consensus on how much that distinction matters.

In the 1940s, sports governing bodies began requiring women to provide medical certificates proving they were women.

In the 1960s, some sports organizations briefly required gynecological examinations and visual examinations of nude women before sex chromatin tests were introduced in 1967 to specifically detect XX female sex chromosomes.

When it finally became clear in the 1980s that women could have the male-typical XY sex chromosome pair and not gain any athletic advantages, there was a brief fling with genetic analysis before a shift toward “suspicion-based testing.” Under this system, if someone questioned an athlete’s gender, the suspected athlete could be asked to undergo a multifaceted gender verification process.

Starting around 2010, the conversation in international sports turned to natural testosterone levels, how a woman’s body responds to that testosterone, and specific diagnoses of intersex variants.

But any version of gender testing falls apart under the microscope. That’s because most sports are organized around a strict division between men and women. Nature isn’t.

Prohibition “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 Fairness, Inclusion and Non-Discrimination on the Basis of Gender Identity and Sex Differences offers a number of recommendations for federations to consider, but also recognizes that “each sport and its governing body must 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 “female.”

But the IBA’s decision to disqualify Khelifa and Lin, who have been competing in the sport for years and whose passports show they are women, raised two major issues.

First, the boxing association failed to act in accordance with its official rules. The IOC later said the IBA had “suddenly” disqualified the women from the 2023 World Championships “without 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 stripped the IBA of its official recognition in 2023 and instead designated the Paris 2024 Boxing Entity to host the Olympic tournament.

The Paris 2024 boxing unit relied on the IBA’s qualification requirements, developed after the 2016 Rio Olympics, that allowed Khelif and Lin to compete. The same requirements also allowed the two women to compete at the 2020 Olympics, with Khelif finishing fifth and Lin ninth.

Cutting through the noise

Khelifa’s victory over Carini in the second round of the Olympics sparked a predictable, if depressing, outcry from ultra-conservative politicians and influential anti-transgender figures.

Khelif must be a “man.” (She’s not.) Or she’s a “transsexual.” (Again, she’s not. In fact, it’s illegal in Algeria to identify as such.)

Others argue that Khelifa’s “biological advantages” are “unfair.”

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

What was left out of the discussion was that Khelif was doing what boxers were supposed to do: punching his opponents so hard they couldn’t hit back. Lin’s decision fights were less controversial. Nevertheless, they sparked further debate about who should be allowed to compete in women’s sports.

The Paris Olympics are the closest to gender parity in Olympic history: 49% of all athletes competing in this year’s Olympics are women.

Boxing is one of the sports in which women have the fewest opportunities to compete. Women first competed in Olympic boxing at the 2012 London Games, in just three weight classes. By comparison, men competed in 10 different weight classes. The 2016 Rio Games saw the same disparity. Up until 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 and who is protected?

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

Studies show that, on average, elite male athletes outperform elite female athletes by about 10% to 12%. The great strides made in women’s sports would likely be undone by eliminating gender categories. At the same time, the way sports governing bodies define and police these categories not only discriminates against athletes of different genders, but also casts suspicion on any female athlete who might seem “masculine” to someone—in terms of performance, appearance, or anything else.

Returning to the issue of protection: Who or what do gender-based regulations protect? Do they ever protect unequal, equal opportunities? The undefined category of “woman”? The safety of women in dangerous sports? The sport itself?

We don’t know what criteria the IBA used to disqualify Khelifa and Lin, although there is much speculation. But these are personal, intimate details that I think should be respected and remain private.

We know that confusion has far-reaching consequences. Khelif pleaded for hateful discourse to stop: “It can destroy people, it can kill people’s thoughts, spirit and mind. It can divide people.”

It has already happened.

In a Games that has so magnificently showcased and honored Olympic athletes, I find the debate over Khelifa and Lin distracting and heartbreaking. Above all, both boxers are human beings who do not deserve to be political punching bags.

Jaime Schultz is a professor of kinesiotherapy at Penn State.

This article is reprinted from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.