Last night I watched Chris Horner win back the leader’s jersey in the Vuelta. I already knew it had happened, and there wasn’t much to see related to his performance, unlike his quite miraculous climbing the day before. Much has been written on Horner in the last few weeks. I won’t add to that. Instead, listen to A. L. Kennedy talking about lies and truth, in a short radio programme broadcast just after I watched Horner pulling on his red jersey:
I don’t care about the truth any more for itself. But I do want people to stop lying, cheating and manipulating. In sport there is a space within which artifice falls away. This space is now corrupted, as is its surrounding context. This situation is not new, but it has become heightened by our realisation that we are being lied to and yet do not really want the truth, or have any confidence that we can recognise it. Only the athlete knows the truth of their preparation, and even there self-deceit can blur reality. This is why anti-doping is always about ethics, and if based solely on detection and punishment will fail. I care about Warren Barguil, not Horner. If Barguil tested positive I would be saddened: another false dawn. If Horner tested positive I would just shrug: he’s a product of a different age.