Jess Varnish’s treatment in the British Cycling gig economy should make us reconsider our taste for tarnished glory

Jess Varnish may have lost the chance to sue British Cycling and UK Sport for wrongful dismissal and sexual discrimination after a ruling last night, but the former track sprinter has at least rattled the cage of a medal-hungry machine. She has also reminded us about the price paid for the new realities of sporting and working life.

A judgement on Wednesday found that Varnish was not an employee or a worker of either of the aforementioned organisations. It leaves her unable to pursue her case for discrimination, and leaves us without the chance to understand what really went on.

It might surprise some people. Other cases, involving Pimlico Plumbers and Uber, have seen “self-employed” contractors win at least some recognition as workers with employment rights. Varnish’s case looks to have fallen on the wrong side of the line in the legal fog that surrounds the so-called gig economy.

British Cycling convinced the tribunal that it was not an employer, but “a service provider supporting talented and dedicated athletes to achieve their best." It has been a structure that allows it to be ruthless, funding athletes until injury or poor form mean they can’t help reach the ultimate goal.

As London 2012 approached, elite sport in Britain became a relentless Olympic quest – with cycling in particular driven by a "medal or nothing" philosophy. Its successes have been extraordinary – but not without sacrifice.

The Team GB story of noble failure was swept away in pursuit of gold, silver and bronze, and of course something of the sporting spirit was lost. Jess Varnish and others have been the discarded jetsam in the wake of a ship bound for glory at any cost.

Varnish’s allegations of sexism were not an isolated example. Nicole Cooke was Olympic road race gold-medallist at Beijing in 2008 and she declared at a select committee inquiry in 2017 that UK cycling was a “sport run by men, for men”. Lizzie Deignan recalled how she was seen as the “plaything” of male cyclists when she was a young hopeful (and still known as Lizzie Armistead). Team pursuit world champion Wendy Houvenaghel said she tolerated oppressive sexism and ageism because “if you rocked the boat, you were out”.

It would be no real surprise if such a culture was allowed to exist when everything was so geared to a single goal. The track cycling team showed disdain for anything other than the glittering prize of the Olympics.

As the GB medal haul ramped up at Rio 2016 the Australian champion Anna Meares openly wondered: “How do they lift [their performance] so much when in so many events they have not even been in contention in the world championships?”

That approach rankled with other nations, trying to compete in multiple events across the seasons and years, trying to respect the sport’s deeper traditions. Team Sky, effectively the professional road cycling arm of British Cycling, has left a similarly sour taste.

Since it was created in 2010, it has shown a near absolute focus on the Tour de France, the three-week Grand Tour that dominates global attention and revenues. And it has been aided by a budget that dwarfs others.

The sight of a long line of Sky riders sheltering Chris Froome or Geraint Thomas, and keeping the pace high on Alpine climbs to prevent attacks from rivals, has been the defining cycling image over the past decade. It is an emblem of the ruthlessness that has cleared the path for success at Team Sky and through the architecture of British Cycling.

Sky’s decision to drop its sponsorship after this year should mark a turning point – a moment for the tone to soften and for elite sport to consider if success can be achieved with compassion, and without disregard for those who fall short of concocted goals.

That was also the implication in British Cycling’s response to yesterday’s Varnish ruling. “Thanks to a lot of hard work by staff and riders the culture of the Great Britain Cycling Team is changed for the better since Jess first raised her concerns.” This ruling in its favour must not act as a full stop to that change.

That’s why it was hugely important for Varnish to make this stand, and resist the urge to settle, away from the public gaze. Not only to highlight how a harmful culture can emerge in precarious working conditions, but to expose what that headlong dash to the top of the Olympic cycling medal tables actually entailed.

We cheered at the TV, wallowed in the reflected triumph, and might even have waved flags for the open top bus parade. We may decide the price was worth paying, but it’s only right than that we are confronted with the brutal mechanics that made the engine tick.

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Varnish's legal case against British Cycling and UK Sport dismissed