Novak Djokovic said "there has to be a change" about tennis doping protocols, and he's right

NEW YORK—It’s time for WADA, the World Anti-Doping Agency, to take a good, hard look in the mirror and re-evaluate the way it goes about protecting sports from dopers, and punishing those who cheat.

There’s something drastically wrong when clearly articulated, science-based procedures produce nothing but legal contortions, mountains of paperwork, conflicting “expert opinions”—and the nagging sense in a large swath of public, as well as the elite athletic community, that those who test positive for banned substances get the best justice money can buy.

Novak Djokovic weighed in on this issue during his pre-US Open press conference, saying, "So, yeah, there are a lot of issues in the system. We see a lack of standardized and clear protocols. I can understand the sentiments of a lot of players that are questioning whether they are treated the same.

“Hopefully the governing bodies of our sport will be able to learn from this case and have a better approach for the future. I think collectively there has to be a change, and I think that's obvious."

First, a disclaimer: I’m not here to re-litigate the recent Simona Halep doping case, nor weigh in on the current maelstrom surrounding Jannik Sinner. I’m not the judge, I’m just here to say that the anti-doping enforcement effort is a hot mess.

If you’re among the confused, here are two competing facts to contemplate:

1. In the Halep case, the International Tennis Integrity Agency (the ITIA, tennis’ official WADA affiliate), produced a 127-page, science-heavy document that convinced the independent tribunal that rules on doping culpability to find that Halep was guilty—and thereby suspended for four years.
2. Also in the Halep case, a review of her appeal by the Court of Arbitration for Sport (CAS), the independent institution that resolves disputes in sports through mediation and arbitration, resulted in a win for the Romanian. Her four-year term was reduced to nine months (in essence, time served).

“That you can have two such varying decisions based on the same evidence doesn’t smell right,” a source close to the investigations, who asked not to be identified, told me some months ago. “I’m not claiming that the first decision was correct nor am I claiming the last decision was correct. It just feels like something’s gone wrong somewhere.”

When a player has the financial resources, talented (if that’s the right word) lawyers can mount formidable defenses homing in on many aspects of the original, baseline research conducted by the ITIA. If anything, the ITIA is too thorough, which is ironic given that you can’t always have a fair and speedy investigation as well as a thorough one.

Now the question is whether it is a case of the funds, whether a player can afford to pay a significant amount of money for a law firm that would then more efficiently represent his or her case. Novak Djokovic

In the appeal process, advocates for a defendant with abundant resources can (and do) produce private blood tests that present different results from the official ITIA ones. They can attack any point of real or imagined weakness in the chain of custody of blood or urine samples. They can recruit, and lavishly compensate, expert witnesses to challenge the expert witnesses of ITIA.

“Many players. . .have had similar or same, pretty much the same cases [as Sinner’s], where they haven’t had the same outcome,” said Djokovic, “and now the question is whether it is a case of the funds, whether a player can afford to pay a significant amount of money for a law firm that would then more efficiently represent his or her case.”

Those who receive provisional suspensions for testing positive but can’t come up with the money to make an aggressive appeal to CAS are often out of luck. The pressure to leave no stone unturned in search of the truth has also led to very long waiting periods for suspended players who can’t, or won’t, appeal. As a result, we’re left with the feeling that some players are like the entitled kids who can talk (buy) their way out of trouble for breaking school rules while their less fortunate classmates get detention.