Doping: Move Beyond Fiction, Confront the Public Health Issue... 617
It’s tempting to dismiss the recent doping cases in Moroccan football with a wave of the hand, reducing them to individual errors, mishaps, or even injustices. It’s tempting, but dangerous.
What’s at stake today goes far beyond a few disciplinary sanctions. Doping, in its contemporary form, is no longer just cheating: it’s a brutal revealer of a deeper dysfunction—an out-of-control sports and health ecosystem, sustained by a comfortable illusion: “football isn’t affected.”
For a long time, football has sheltered itself behind a convenient fiction: that of a sport relatively spared from doping, an illusion maintained on a global scale despite well-documented precedents. In Morocco, this fiction persists: every case is treated as an anomaly, never as a signal.
That said, what has recently come to light does concern football, but it’s far from the only sport affected. The rise of the Moroccan Anti-Doping Agency (AMAD) and the significant increase in controls have changed the game: what we’re seeing today isn’t necessarily more doping, but more truth. And that truth is unsettling.
The narrative of “accidental doping” is increasingly holding up poorly against the facts. The dominant discourse is well-rehearsed: athletes are victims of involuntary doping, from contaminated supplements, poorly prescribed medications, and good-faith errors. This discourse isn’t entirely false. It’s simply incomplete.
Because behind “involuntary doping” lies a more troubling reality: a widespread normalization of substance ingestion, in a culture where presumed immediate performance gains take precedence over knowledge, caution, and medical oversight. Yet it’s nearly impossible to prove that ingesting this or that substance enhances sports performance. What is certain and proven, however, are the inevitable health consequences.
Anti-doping law is implacable: the athlete is responsible for everything they consume, whether they intended to cheat or not. This principle of strict liability isn’t an injustice, it’s a safeguard. But athletes must first be given the real means to understand what they’re ingesting. Clearly, that’s not the case for a large portion of them today.
For elite athletes, controls are there to deter and sanction when necessary. The problem becomes even graver for young people—and not-so-young—who train for themselves, outside the most visible circuits. That’s where supplements represent a new gray area and the heart of the issue, widely underestimated.
Supplements have become the gateway to a diffuse, invisible, insidious form of doping. Uncertified products, uncontrolled imports, aggressive marketing: everything conspires to maintain an illusion of safety, while these products are a sanitary blind spot. Their massive consumption among young people is rarely medically supervised. It relies on informal recommendations, locker-room advice, impromptu sellers, and sometimes even social media “influencers.” You can even find them in some souks and dairies.
The result is unequivocal: careers shattered over a few grams of unidentified powder, but above all, and most alarmingly, weakened bodies, hormonal disorders, metabolic imbalances appearing earlier and earlier. Doping is no longer just a sports fraud; it’s becoming a full-fledged public health issue.
The silence and sometimes passive complicity of clubs and gyms is another blind spot in the system. It takes courage to ask the uncomfortable question: where are the clubs in all this? Few gyms are truly spared. Some don’t hesitate to sell, without the slightest scruple, products whose true composition and potential effects on users’ bodies are known only to their suppliers. And how do you respond to a young person who challenges you: “You tell us these products aren’t good, but the coach says we have to take them”?
In many cases, medical oversight is insufficient, if not nonexistent. Young people evolve in an environment where physical appearance is glorified, but scientific and medical culture remains marginal. This void is filled by improvisation and worse, a form of collective abdication of responsibility. When the scandal breaks, the athlete faces the sanction alone. The club vanishes from the story. Yet the law clearly defines the various levels of responsibility: products don’t fall from the sky.
This asymmetry is no longer sustainable. Responsibility can no longer be considered solely individual. Doping in Moroccan football, ever since two high-level players have been implicated, can no longer be analyzed solely through the lens of personal fault. It’s the product of an insufficiently regulated supplements market, a lack of structured medical oversight, increasingly early performance pressure, and a sports culture that values results over understanding, in denial of an existing law.
In response, the AMAD, based on strict rules, has been tasked with implementing the national anti-doping policy, and it does so brilliantly. For it, mechanically applying rules without fine-tuned adaptation to local realities and without massive education isn’t enough. Sanctioning without educating treats symptoms while ignoring the disease.
What needs to change now is no longer marginal correction: the system must be rethought. Concretely:
- Mandate medical oversight in all clubs.
- Create a national list of certified, controlled, and traceable supplements.
- Systematically train young athletes and their coaches on substance risks.
- Hold clubs and staff legally accountable, so they can no longer hide behind ignorance or good faith. And above all: drop the general hypocrisy and face reality.
Morocco isn’t an isolated case. It’s simply at a turning point. What’s at play today is the shift from marginal doping to a systemic form, not organized, but diffuse, cultural, almost unconscious. Refusing to see it is accepting that a generation of young people will pay the price for this blindness.
Doping isn’t just a matter of cheating. It’s a public health issue, and now, a matter of collective responsibility.
