Changing how we develop our top athletes
With the Olympics coming up, our high-performance athletes will be in the headlines. What might not be so high profile are the huge educational sacrifices they have often made to get there.
My research at the University of Auckland centres on the experiences of New Zealand athletes on professional and Olympic pathways, who are trying to manage both sport and university studies, and the considerable barriers they face.
Half of the athletes I interviewed were in New Zealand and the other half in the US. What became clear is that the New Zealand sports and academic systems are the same as they were in the 1990s; nothing has changed or evolved.
High-level sport and universities still stand apart in our country and to compound this, they have a seemingly adversarial relationship. The collateral damage in this scenario is our talented young athletes.
This group is reliant on those in leadership positions to act in a way that will enhance their opportunities in sport and in long-term careers once sport is not their main focus. From what my New Zealand-based athletes are telling me, any academic success they’ve achieved is not because of the New Zealand system, but in spite of it.
People often wonder why our universities and sports organisations operate so separately.
It’s the result of a legacy from our English heritage, via the Commonwealth, which still influences our athlete development system.
Unfortunately, it also means our athletes experience the same problems as other Commonwealth athletes, and non-Commonwealth European athletes who are operating within similar systems, when trying to do sport and university at the same time.
Their sports commitments force them to choose where to allocate their time, sports usually wins out and then access to educational opportunities diminish and in some cases, are taken away completely.
If we know the problem exists, why don’t our sports and universities work together to find a solution? Self-interest and control. Sports organisations at the elite level exist to win. If a CEO can’t produce wins, future funding is in jeopardy, as is their employment and that of their key staff.
The driver of consistent high performance is the ability to produce and control a constant flow of high-performing talent, and sports organisations want to do exactly that.
They are so focused on this they ignore what the research says: that on-field performance is enhanced by engaging in academic pursuits. No one denies they have the right to develop athletes as they see fit, but that doesn’t make it ethically the right thing to do.
This controlling behaviour is often very damaging to athletes when they realise that after their top-level sporting days are over, they have to build a career from scratch without qualifications, and the people they are doing this with are 10 years younger than them.
We have all the pieces to create a great system if we have the courage to arrange them in ways that better facilitate multilayered outcomes for our developing athletes. This approach, of course, will not be popular with the sports system as we know it because it represents upheaval and loss of control.
The logical next step for New Zealand is to figure out how to shift its athlete development systems into universities, which exist primarily to produce well-rounded people, intellectually and in many other areas. I believe taxpayer money earmarked for athlete development within our national sports system therefore needs to be redirected into the university system.
National sports organisations can then become advisers in the athlete development process, and the receivers of talent, but the key responsibility for development needs to sit with universities, which play a key role here as well.
Athletes are more than people to write feel-good media releases about and deserve more than superficial support agreements that don’t address key system deficiencies.
In the 90s, I was part of a small group of New Zealanders to experience sport within the United States collegiate system. As a state-house boy who went to a “low decile” South Auckland school, this experience signalled a turning point in my academic life, and in my life generally.
I went from a New Zealand system that placed no academic expectations on me to a US system that demanded it; where class schedules ran seamlessly with sports practices, academic tutoring was available on request, and I had access to training and playing facilities whenever I wanted.
The system provided constant exposure to what other athletes were planning to do with their degrees, as well as the thoughts of academic and sports staff on how to take advantage of my education. I also had a coach who told me on day one to “pass class” or he’d get rid of me.
The Olympic Games are almost here and our athletes have spent a lifetime preparing for this moment. I, alongside billions worldwide, will be glued to my TV.
My hope for these athletes, and the ones who follow behind, is that if they are also capable of great academic feats – becoming surgeons, engineers, neurobiologists – that we have a system that allows them to do just that and in a reasonable timeframe, not the eight-plus years some of my NZ interviewees have had to endure.
What is the value of an Olympic medal for New Zealand if, in its pursuit, the medallist has had to miss out on their often-impressive academic potential? And when is it ever a good idea to deny those capable of so much more the opportunity to fulfil that promise in exchange for a piece of metal to hang on the mantelpiece, even if it is made of gold?
Steve Roberts is a doctoral student in the Faculty of Education and Social Work at Waipapa Taumata Rau/University of Auckland.