The Olympic Games are among the premier sporting events in the world. Thousands of skilled athletes from every corner of the globe gather for two weeks of competition watched by billions on television. Legends are created, reputations are made, and billions of dollars change hands. But, as with other inspiring and glittering human institutions, there is also a seamy underside.
On January 9, 1991, Norman Seagram, Arthur Eggleton, and Paul Henderson appeared before the leaders of the International Olympic Committee (IOC) in Lausanne, Switzerland. Eggleton was then the mayor of Toronto; Seagram and Henderson had been leaders of Toronto’s bid to host the 1996 Summer Olympic Games. They failed, despite what they regarded as a superior presentation, the product of a five-year, multimillion-dollar campaign.
On reflection, and after inquiry, they concluded that they had been victims of a corrupt process in which the votes of IOC members had effectively been bought. In polite but blunt language, the Canadians pried open the lid on a mess teeming with improper gifts, including cash payments, in exchange for votes. In strikingly prophetic language they warned of the consequences of such behavior continuing unchecked. The IOC peered into the mess, then replaced the lid and looked away. And what the Canadians feared soon came to pass.
I was in my law office in Washington on a Friday afternoon when Bill Hybl called. A short, friendly, enthusiastic man, with an open face and manner, Bill was the chairman of the U.S. Olympic Committee. He wanted to see me, and I agreed. When we met he asked me to serve as chairman of the USOC’s Ethics Oversight Committee. I had always loved sports, and I knew I would enjoy the opportunity to be involved in what I thought would be an interesting and constructive role. Bill assured me that it was a part-time responsibility and that I’d be assisted by an able staff. Although I was still involved in Northern Ireland, which meant that I was out of the country much of the time and was concerned that it would be difficult to find the time to do the job right, I accepted. Not long afterward a scandal erupted in Salt Lake City.
From 1989 to 1991 Salt Lake City had competed to host the 1998 Winter Olympic Games. The city’s Olympic Bid Committee made what its members felt was a persuasive effort and presentation. Included was the expenditure of over $250,000 on travel, hotel, entertainment, gifts, and payments of money to members of the IOC, their relatives, or friends. But when the IOC met in Birmingham, England, in June 1991, it chose Nagano, Japan. Stunned and disappointed, the Salt Lake City Bid Committee resolved to try again for the 2002 Winter Games. In an effort to improve their chances, they reviewed the process they had just gone through and concluded that Nagano’s effort had been more sophisticated and extravagant. To win next time they would have to step up their game. And they did.
In a process of “gift creep,” they moved from goodwill gifts to strangers to payments specifically intended to get votes; from small, inexpensive items they graduated to lavish gifts, and ultimately to payments of substantial sums of money to individual IOC members. The Salt Lake City committee didn’t invent the culture of corruption; they stepped into it and came to believe that in order to win they had to match or exceed their competitors in the petty and grubby process of buying votes. As so often happens, in their zeal for victory good men and women left their judgment and conscience at the door in the comforting belief that “everybody does it.” And they prevailed.
When the scandal broke publicly, Hybl moved quickly and urged me to do so as well. He asked me to chair an independent commission to make recommendations that, if adopted, would help to prevent such abuses in the future. The target date for the commission’s report was the end of February 1999, barely two months later. That precluded an exhaustive factual inquiry, which in any event would have been impossible because criminal investigations were under way in the United States and most of the participants refused to talk to an independent commission. Lacking subpoena power, we could not compel them to testify or to produce relevant documents. What we needed, and what we were able to get, was a sufficient factual basis to enable us to craft meaningful recommendations for reform.
I was joined on the commission by four outstanding members. Ken Duberstein had served as President Reagan’s chief of staff and is a business consultant in Washington. I had known Ken for several years and liked and respected him. I had not previously known the other three members: Donald Fehr was the executive director and general counsel of the Major League Baseball Players Association; Roberta Cooper Ramo was a partner in an Albuquerque law firm and had previously been president of the American Bar Association; Jeff Benz was a lawyer in a San Francisco law firm and had been a national champion figure skater. In an intense setting and a tight time frame we worked well together. There were no substantive disagreements, and our report was unanimous. That result was facilitated by the outstanding lawyer we retained to assist us, Richard Hibey, an experienced trial lawyer and former prosecutor, who was a partner in a Washington law firm.
Although we did not identify the particulars of every improper transaction, we had more than enough information on which to base our recommendations. The Canadians had laid it out clearly eight years earlier. Our recommendations were made to both the USOC and the IOC. They were intended to eliminate the practices that contributed to the buying of votes; to strengthen oversight by both organizations over the site-selection process; and to make fundamental structural changes to increase transparency and accountability to the public.
To his credit, Bill Hybl provided the commission with full support and complete independence. He also urged the USOC to adopt our recommendations, which it did promptly and in their entirety. The IOC made meaningful changes in its site-selection process, in some respects going further than our recommendations. But while the IOC’s response was generally positive, it was less forthcoming on structural changes and it remains a relatively closed and tight-knit organization.
For me it was another lesson in the complexity of human behavior. At the Olympic Games the best and the worst coexist: superb athletes, thrilling performances, and spectacular ceremonies alongside greed, theft, hypocrisy, and falsehood. This doesn’t detract from the greatness of the performances, but it does remind each of us how high we can soar and how low we can sink.