In 2003, sprinter Dwain Chambers was caught taking the banned steroid THG. He served a two-year ban, and has now turned informer to the anti-doping authorities and returned to the track. Earlier this week he ran the fastest 100m by a British athlete this year, and he intends to win a place on the British Olympic team at the trials just over a week from now. He looks to have a great chance.

The problem is that the British Olympic Association (BOA) has a policy of not selecting athletes that have failed drug tests, whether they’ve served their bans or not. No matter how well Chambers does in the trials, the BOA won’t pick him unless they’re forced to.

Chambers will challenge the legality of this policy in court, arguing that it constitutes an illegal restraint of trade. He hopes to get a ruling from the court saying that the BOA have to pick him if he does well enough at the trials.

In response to Chambers’ challenge, the British Athletes’ Commission (BAC) has taken up a petition calling for the selection policy to stay in place. Over a hundred athletes have signed, including big names such as Steve Redgrave and Kelly Holmes. The BAC’s Peter Gardner explained, “The petition carries weight because it has support from many athletes.”

He’s wrong. The petition doesn’t carry much weight at all.

The question here concerns a point of law: Does the BOA’s policy of not selecting athletes that have failed drug tests constitute an illegal restraint of trade? The petition only tells us that certain people approve of the BOA policy; it doesn’t tell us anything about whether it is legal or not. The policy may be popular, perhaps even have near unanimous support among athletes, but still break the law. This appeal to popularity shouldn’t persuade the court.

The presence of big names on the list doesn’t change this. Holmes and Redgrave have plenty of Olympic gold medals between them, but being a faster runner or rower than anyone else doesn’t give you much insight into employment law. To suggest that Chambers’ ban should be upheld because some great British Olympians say so would be an inappropriate appeal to authority.

I sympathise with the athletes that have signed the petition: I hope that the selection policy is legal and can be maintained. But the petition itself isn’t evidence that should sway the court.

Cricket Umpire Darrell Hair has been under fire for charging the Pakistan team with ball-tampering in a recent test match against England. Having examined the ball, and conferred with a colleague, he deducted five runs from Pakistan’s total as a penalty. Pakistan were, at this point, well in the lead in the match, but staged a sit-in protest in the dressing room, refusing to continue play. The match was then abandoned and awarded to England.

Since all that happened, Hair has been accused of racism, of systematically favouring the opponents of Asian nations over the years. The International Cricket Council were due to hold a disciplinary hearing to examine the ball-tampering charge, and hopefully resolve the furore surrounding Hair, when they called a press-conference. In it, ICC Chief Executive Malcolm Speed made what the press has labelled a shocking revelation: Hair had offered to retire from umpiring in return for a secret payment of $500,000. For full transparency, they published the e-mail correspondence in which Hair made the offer.

There are two interpretations of the e-mail exchange. According to the first, Hair was feeling the pressure and offered the ICC a solution that was in both their best interests and his. If he stayed, the ICC would be stuck with an Umpire who couldn’t preside over many matches due to the allegations of bias. If he stayed, he would have to continue to face down criticism from the press and from his opponents in cricket. The game would be tarnished; his career, ruined. The $500,000 would pay up his contract, which had several years left to run, and get both parties out of difficulty.

As Malcolm Speed admitted, however, there was a much more sinister reading of events. He urged the press not to accept it. According to this reading, Hair was blackmailing the ICC, using his power to contain the emerging crisis in order to extract money from them. Some even suggested that he might have deliberately created the scandal in order to get himself a pay-off.

How credible was Speed’s claim that this more sinister view of events was mistaken, that Hair had acted honourably throughout?

Speed’s reputation, on the face of it, is solid enough. As the Chief Executive of the ICC, he certainly has high status; he is in an important position of trust. This lends credibility to his claim.

His ability to see is more limited; it’s difficult for him to tell what was going on in Hair’s head. Yes, he had access to the e-mail correspondence, but he admitted in the press conference that this could be read in either of two ways. Unless he had private correspondence or conversations with Hair in addition to the published e-mails, then his access to the evidence is the same as everyone else’s, and so he is basing his interpretation of events on background knowledge rather than clear first-hand evidence.

Speed certainly suffers from a vested interest. As someone with a great deal invested in the cricket, and whose responsiblity is to protect the sport, he has a lot to lose if the reputation of cricket is damaged. This certainly weakens his sympathic interpretation of Hair’s actions.

Speed’s level of expertise is a little difficult to assess. In this context, expertise would involve knowledge of Hair. Is Hair the type of person who would try to make money out of a potential disaster? Without better knowledge of the relationship between the two, it’s impossible to tell whether Speed possesses this expertise.

Finally, there is the issue of neutrality, which is again difficult to assess. If Speed and Hair have had a long and productive professional relationship, as may well be the case, then Speed may well have a bias towards Hair, and so a reason to defend him. If, on the other hand, they have no such rapport, or even a disliking for each other, then things may be different.

To reach an overall judgement on the credibility of Speed’s claim, then, his reputation and possible expertise must be weighed against his poor ability to see, vested interest, and possible bias.

What’s your judgement?

When we think of pyramids, most us think of Egypt. According to an article in The Economist (August 12th-18th 2006 edition, page 34), historian Semir Osmanagic has suggested that we should think of Bosnia. He says that he has located three pyramids in Bosnia, over 12500 years old, one of which is significantly bigger than the Great Pyramid in Egypt. Taking the article at face value, how credible are Mr Osmanagic’s claims?

First of all, on the positive side, his ability to see isn’t bad. Having speculated that a pyramid-shaped hill in the small town Visoko might in fact be a bona-fide pyramid, he has followed up his hunch by digging. The results of the archaeological surveys include what Mr Osmanagic has identified as ancient concrete and, elsewhere, paved walkways. If he has found pyramids in Bosnia, then he’s in a decent position to know that he has, so perhaps there is something to his claims.

On the other hand, Mr Osmanagic’s expertise is more questionable. The article describes him as “a self-taught archaeologist” and “an amateur historian”. These are hardly the best of credentials for someone seeking rewrite pre-history. Those conventional historians who have come forward to reject his findings are relatively better qualified, and so more credible by this criterion.

That there are pyramids in Bosnia is not Mr Osmanagic’s only controversial view; he has a reputation for backing alternative histories. He has previously written about the survivors of the lost city of Atlantis building pyramids in South America, and has been described by more orthodox academics as “a hallucinating lunatic”.

As a witness, he’s probably not ideal. Given the nature of the claim that he’s making, more and better evidence is needed.