WADA's rules demand abundant caution before declaring a test positive, and during my visit to Catlin's lab, I see why. When Allison Evans, who runs many of the EPO tests for Catlin, shows me the results of one test, I think it looks positive. But after applying a statistical analysis, she declares it negative. Catlin says he thinks his lab, owing to caution, exonerates ten guilty EPO users for every one it declares positive. He says he's so fed up with the politics of the test that he's decided not to reapply for a USADA grant that supports the EPO research in his lab.Catlin thinks the answer lies in a voluntary system, in which athletes submit themselves to testing for biomarkers; after establishing a baseline for performance, the athletes would be given doses of enhancing drugs to determine the effect on that baseline. Continued testing afterwards then monitors those biomarkers, and anything falling outside individual norms would be flagged and investigated. In this way, the athlete's own body can be used against him or her to determine guilt or innocence.
Heid says the whole idea of routine testing for proteins is worrisome. "Analyzing tiny amounts of samples belonging to the protein field gets really complicated," he says. "Most of these methods for [proteins] are still in development, in a research state, and not even useful in practical work."
This bodes ill for WADA's ongoing effort to develop a test for HGH and IGF-1. After a decade of research, experts don't even agree on whether or not a validated, usable HGH test exists. WADA says it does. Catlin and other sources say it doesn't.
"You'd approach it as a physician does a patient," Catlin continues. " 'Is something going on in your life? I am worried you are taking growth hormone, and you know we do not have a bulletproof HGH test, but we do have these blood markers, so I want you in here every week. We are going to track you, and I want to see that go down, and if it doesn't go down, a committee of your peers, other athletes, is going to want to talk to you.' "In addition, Wired also wrote earlier this year about using the body's own chemical makeup to improve performance without the nasty side effects and legal aftermath of doping. Much like Nike's Oregon Project, the idea is that through technological and biological advancements, there will be no need to take performance enhancing drugs. Using blood tests to help, not indict. It's a radical hope to save sport as we know it. It may also be the only hope.
That's it. No punishment. If Joe doesn't agree, or his levels stay high, he would revert to the old system and take his chances. But he'd also lose the built-in absolution of the Volunteer Program.
Catlin's explanation reveals two critical ingredients of the program. First, he hopes to rejuvenate the role of the sports physician, to make doctors the system's eyes and ears. (Currently, some athletes avoid physicians for fear of being discovered; this endangers their health.) Second, Catlin believes the enforcement of the program's rules must be left to a panel of athletes. His plan makes athletes the judges, not USADA or WADA.
Under the program, there's no need to prove an athlete is shooting up HGH, so you don't need a complicated test for it. Because athletes booted out of the program won't be banned from competing, there will be no subsequent legal battles. Authorities will never again have to worry about unknown steroids floating around the sports netherworld, because Catlin isn't looking for specific causes—drugs—but instead for their effects. Yet another advantage, Catlin argues, is that fewer legal battles and complex drug tests should mean the Volunteer Program will be much cheaper to operate once the initial research is finished. And an athlete like Lance Armstrong—dogged by doping whispers throughout much of his career—would have the opportunity to trumpet a definitively clean bill of health.