Can Doping in Combat Sports lead to Criminal and Civil Charges?
- 14 August 2026
- SLAM
Can Doping in Combat Sports lead to Criminal and Civil Charges?
In 2017, the Digital, Culture, Media and Sport (‘DCMS’) Committee’s report on combatting doping in sport concluded that subjecting athletes who dope to criminal prosecution would be ineffective and disproportionate. This reflected the prevailing regulatory approach adopted by the World Anti-Doping Agency (‘WADA’), favouring the imposition of bans of two or four years. This framework treats doping primarily as a regulatory breach within sport governance rather than a matter engaging criminal liability.
However, this position has repeatedly been challenged by current and former combat sport athletes. Tom Aspinall, the current UFC Heavyweight World Champion, has argued that any combat athlete who is caught doping in the aftermath of a bout should, “never be able to fight again.” Adopting a more extreme and controversial stance, former professional boxer, Gary O’Sullivan, has suggested that any combat athlete found to have violated an Anti-Doping Rule Violation (‘ADRV’) should be charged with attempted murder. While these views are not reflective of the current legal framework, they underscore a growing tension between the regulatory practice and perceptions of fairness, consent and harm in combat sports.
This divergence raises a fundamental question: does the use of performance-enhancing drugs in combat sports merely constitute a breach of sporting regulation? Or can it, in certain circumstances, transform otherwise lawful consensual violence into criminal conduct? Can a post-fight finding of doping provide a sufficient legal basis for criminal proceedings where serious injury has been caused to an opponent?
In this article, Yasin Patel, Zakariah Missouri and Caitlin Haberlin-Chambers explore the impact of doping on the legal status of combat sports, and assess the likelihood of successful criminal and civil proceedings being brought against a doping boxer or mixed martial artist.
However, this position has repeatedly been challenged by current and former combat sport athletes. Tom Aspinall, the current UFC Heavyweight World Champion, has argued that any combat athlete who is caught doping in the aftermath of a bout should, “never be able to fight again.” Adopting a more extreme and controversial stance, former professional boxer, Gary O’Sullivan, has suggested that any combat athlete found to have violated an Anti-Doping Rule Violation (‘ADRV’) should be charged with attempted murder. While these views are not reflective of the current legal framework, they underscore a growing tension between the regulatory practice and perceptions of fairness, consent and harm in combat sports.
This divergence raises a fundamental question: does the use of performance-enhancing drugs in combat sports merely constitute a breach of sporting regulation? Or can it, in certain circumstances, transform otherwise lawful consensual violence into criminal conduct? Can a post-fight finding of doping provide a sufficient legal basis for criminal proceedings where serious injury has been caused to an opponent?
In this article, Yasin Patel, Zakariah Missouri and Caitlin Haberlin-Chambers explore the impact of doping on the legal status of combat sports, and assess the likelihood of successful criminal and civil proceedings being brought against a doping boxer or mixed martial artist.
The current position of the law
Combat Sports
The current legal position of combat sports is rooted in a legal authority from the nineteenth century. In R v Young, it was held that a death resulting from an organised fight was lawful, on the basis that it occurred during a consensual sparring contest rather than an unlawful affray. The Learned Judge Bramwell placed particular emphasis on the regulated nature of the bout, noting that it took place in a boxing ring and that the participants wore padded gloves. The principle emerging from Young was that sparring was considered lawful due to the safeguards in place to protect fighters.
Following Young, it became widely accepted that modern boxing contests fall within the category of lawful sparring. This position was later reinforced by Lord Lane in Attorney-General’s Reference, who confirmed the legality of “properly conducted sports…that can be justified as needed in the public interest.” Similarly, Lord Mustill in R v Brown observed that “boxing is outside the ordinary law of violence, because society chooses to tolerate it.” Both of these judgments indicate that boxing, and by analogy other ‘properly conducted sports’, are exempted from the criminal law and will benefit from this protection until they are declared by legislation to be unlawful.
Whilst the legal position of mixed martial arts (‘MMA’) lacks the same clarity as boxing, there are convincing arguments that demonstrate that MMA is ‘properly conducted’ and subsequently lawful. For instance, despite rules being kept to a minimum, all Ultimate Fighting Championship (‘UFC’) MMA fights are governed by the ‘MMA Unified Rules of Conduct’. Additionally, both sports share core regulations: including weight classes, time limits and banned fouls such as eye-gouging.
Following Young, it became widely accepted that modern boxing contests fall within the category of lawful sparring. This position was later reinforced by Lord Lane in Attorney-General’s Reference, who confirmed the legality of “properly conducted sports…that can be justified as needed in the public interest.” Similarly, Lord Mustill in R v Brown observed that “boxing is outside the ordinary law of violence, because society chooses to tolerate it.” Both of these judgments indicate that boxing, and by analogy other ‘properly conducted sports’, are exempted from the criminal law and will benefit from this protection until they are declared by legislation to be unlawful.
Whilst the legal position of mixed martial arts (‘MMA’) lacks the same clarity as boxing, there are convincing arguments that demonstrate that MMA is ‘properly conducted’ and subsequently lawful. For instance, despite rules being kept to a minimum, all Ultimate Fighting Championship (‘UFC’) MMA fights are governed by the ‘MMA Unified Rules of Conduct’. Additionally, both sports share core regulations: including weight classes, time limits and banned fouls such as eye-gouging.
Doping
At present, the English criminal law contains no specific offence of doping in sport. While the supply or possession of certain prohibited substances may engage liability under the Misuse of Drugs Act 1971 (‘the Act’), this regime is generally inapplicable to doping practices undertaken within a sporting context for performance enhancement purposes. Accordingly, an athlete who administers or consumes a banned substance does not, by virtue of that conduct alone, incur criminal liability under domestic law.
Instead, the regulation of doping is primarily governed by private law and contractual frameworks. Athletes are typically bound by agreements with their respective national governing bodies (‘NGB’s), which incorporate compliance with anti-doping codes. For instance, to obtain a UK professional boxing license, athletes are required to enter a contract with the British Boxing Board of Control (‘BBBofC’). By doing so, they agree to be bound by its regulations, including adherence to the World Anti-Doping Agency (‘WADA’) Code (the ‘Code’).
Subsequently, any breach of anti-doping obligations are enforced through international disciplinary mechanisms rather than the criminal courts:
There are two principal avenues through which the courts could be required to consider the impact of doping on the legality of combat sports:
Instead, the regulation of doping is primarily governed by private law and contractual frameworks. Athletes are typically bound by agreements with their respective national governing bodies (‘NGB’s), which incorporate compliance with anti-doping codes. For instance, to obtain a UK professional boxing license, athletes are required to enter a contract with the British Boxing Board of Control (‘BBBofC’). By doing so, they agree to be bound by its regulations, including adherence to the World Anti-Doping Agency (‘WADA’) Code (the ‘Code’).
Subsequently, any breach of anti-doping obligations are enforced through international disciplinary mechanisms rather than the criminal courts:
- In boxing, disciplinary proceedings are commonly conducted by the National Anti-Doping Panel, a specialist independent tribunal.
- In mixed martial arts, equivalent regulatory functions are carried out by private anti-doping organisations such as Combat Sports Anti-Doping (‘CSAD’), which are responsible for investigating violations and imposing sanctions.
There are two principal avenues through which the courts could be required to consider the impact of doping on the legality of combat sports:
- Criminal conviction
- Civil claim
If a doping athlete causes injury during competition, liability may arise under the Offences Against the Person Act 1861 (‘OAPA 1861’). The key issue is whether doping takes the conduct outside the scope of the opponent’s consent to lawful sporting violence. Separately, the Act may be engaged for possession, supply or distribution of performance-enhancing substances.
An injured participant may also bring a civil claim of trespass to the person, arguing along similar grounds that whilst they consented to fighting within the sport’s rules and testing regime, this consent did not extend to blows enhanced by an unlawfully administered Performance Enhancing Drugs (‘PED’).
Criminal Offences
Misuse of Drugs Act 1971
Where the performance-enhancing drug is also a controlled drug prohibited under the Act, a doping athlete in possession of a quantity of the PED deemed to be too large for one person may be liable for possession of a controlled drug with the intent to supply it to another. Furthermore, trainers, coaches, doctors or teammates who provide prohibited drugs may commit offences even if the athlete voluntarily takes them.
Most affected by these prohibitions are athletes, coaches, trainers or doctors found to supply or produce Anabolic Steroids (“AS”). The label of AS encompasses a large list of synthetic derivatives of testosterone, such as Trenbolone, Nandrolone and Drostanolone, that are typically classified as Class C drugs under Schedule 4 Part 2 of the Misuse of Drugs Regulations 2001. Production, supply and possession with intent to supply of AS all constitute strict criminal offences that carry custodial sentences of up to 14-years. Furthermore, there is a strict prohibition of domestic sharing meaning that even if no money changes hands, giving or sharing AS with a friend or training partner is legally classified as unlawful supply. A great many of the potential sentences are outlined in sentencing guidelines produced by the Sentencing Council.
Notably, former bodybuilding champion Nathan Selcon, was convicted of conspiring to manufacture and import AS in 2019 as part of one of the world’s largest illegal steroid operations. The court heard that the drugs were sold not just to bodybuilders and gym users, but to professional athletes in the UK as well. A further noteworthy case within this context was the conviction and respective bans of Phillip and Sophie Tinklin. In 2014, Phillip Tinklin pleaded guilty to conspiring to supply AS, receiving a one-year conditional discharge and a lifetime ban from boxing on behalf of UKAD. It is very unlikely that Phillip Tinklin would get a similar sentence today for such a criminal conviction. His daughter, Sophie Tinklin the reigning 2013 Welsh women’s amateur boxing champion, was not criminally convicted. However, she was banned for four years by the UKAD panel for possession and trafficking of prohibited substances found during the police raid on the family home.
Most affected by these prohibitions are athletes, coaches, trainers or doctors found to supply or produce Anabolic Steroids (“AS”). The label of AS encompasses a large list of synthetic derivatives of testosterone, such as Trenbolone, Nandrolone and Drostanolone, that are typically classified as Class C drugs under Schedule 4 Part 2 of the Misuse of Drugs Regulations 2001. Production, supply and possession with intent to supply of AS all constitute strict criminal offences that carry custodial sentences of up to 14-years. Furthermore, there is a strict prohibition of domestic sharing meaning that even if no money changes hands, giving or sharing AS with a friend or training partner is legally classified as unlawful supply. A great many of the potential sentences are outlined in sentencing guidelines produced by the Sentencing Council.
Notably, former bodybuilding champion Nathan Selcon, was convicted of conspiring to manufacture and import AS in 2019 as part of one of the world’s largest illegal steroid operations. The court heard that the drugs were sold not just to bodybuilders and gym users, but to professional athletes in the UK as well. A further noteworthy case within this context was the conviction and respective bans of Phillip and Sophie Tinklin. In 2014, Phillip Tinklin pleaded guilty to conspiring to supply AS, receiving a one-year conditional discharge and a lifetime ban from boxing on behalf of UKAD. It is very unlikely that Phillip Tinklin would get a similar sentence today for such a criminal conviction. His daughter, Sophie Tinklin the reigning 2013 Welsh women’s amateur boxing champion, was not criminally convicted. However, she was banned for four years by the UKAD panel for possession and trafficking of prohibited substances found during the police raid on the family home.
Offences Against the Person Act 1861 (‘OAPA 1861’)
In a combat sport, what would ordinarily be considered an assault or battery under the OAPA is not unlawful, because the participant consents to force that falls within the rules of the contest. The case of R v Barnes established that criminal liability for injuries in sport is reserved for conduct that goes beyond what a player can reasonably be expected to have consented to. Essentially, criminal liability may arise for conduct outside the rules and norms of the game. This is assessed objectively, with the courts being required to take into account the type of sport, level of force, degree of departure from the rules, and the defendant’s state of mind.
In this context, there are two distinct routes through which PED use could take the strike of a combat athlete outside the scope of consent:
1. Exceeding the norms of the contest through the enhancement of unlawful force
A fighter’s consent can be generally understood as consent to be struck with the ordinary force a trained, unenhanced opponent in that weight class could generate. It is not understood to incorporate the force amplified by artificially increased muscle mass, power output, or explosiveness from AS. On this view, PED use represents a form of pre-meditated cheating that changes the physical nature of what’s being consented to. The argument would be that the combat athlete never truly consented to being hit by someone whose striking power had been artificially and unlawfully enhanced.
The difficulty of this route lies in causation. Attempting to attribute the specific injuries to the force enhancement of the drug and not merely that the fighter who happened to be on PED landed clean shots that any fighter might land, is genuinely difficult to prove both medically or forensically. This is why, to this date, this route is largely theoretical rather than litigated.
2. Loss of control from the PED physiological effects
Separately, some PED are associated with increased aggression and impaired impulse control. If this manifested in a combat athlete throwing strikes after the bell, ignoring a referee’s stoppage, or striking with a level of sustained force well beyond what the sport’s rules permit, under Barnes, the fighter would be liable for an offence under the OAPA.
However, similar to the first possibility, attempting to attribute this loss of control to the PED side-effects rather than a surge of adrenaline or genuine frustration would be incredibly difficult. This difficulty is evidenced by the fact that there is no clear example of the Crown Prosecution Service (‘CPS’) prosecuting a fighter for conduct within a properly licensed and regulated combat sport bout.
In this context, there are two distinct routes through which PED use could take the strike of a combat athlete outside the scope of consent:
1. Exceeding the norms of the contest through the enhancement of unlawful force
A fighter’s consent can be generally understood as consent to be struck with the ordinary force a trained, unenhanced opponent in that weight class could generate. It is not understood to incorporate the force amplified by artificially increased muscle mass, power output, or explosiveness from AS. On this view, PED use represents a form of pre-meditated cheating that changes the physical nature of what’s being consented to. The argument would be that the combat athlete never truly consented to being hit by someone whose striking power had been artificially and unlawfully enhanced.
The difficulty of this route lies in causation. Attempting to attribute the specific injuries to the force enhancement of the drug and not merely that the fighter who happened to be on PED landed clean shots that any fighter might land, is genuinely difficult to prove both medically or forensically. This is why, to this date, this route is largely theoretical rather than litigated.
2. Loss of control from the PED physiological effects
Separately, some PED are associated with increased aggression and impaired impulse control. If this manifested in a combat athlete throwing strikes after the bell, ignoring a referee’s stoppage, or striking with a level of sustained force well beyond what the sport’s rules permit, under Barnes, the fighter would be liable for an offence under the OAPA.
However, similar to the first possibility, attempting to attribute this loss of control to the PED side-effects rather than a surge of adrenaline or genuine frustration would be incredibly difficult. This difficulty is evidenced by the fact that there is no clear example of the Crown Prosecution Service (‘CPS’) prosecuting a fighter for conduct within a properly licensed and regulated combat sport bout.
Civil liability
The tort of trespass against the person refers to a direct and intentional application of force to the claimant’s body without lawful justification. The case of Nash v Sheen confirms that in the context of a combat sports bout, the fighter must have intended to throw the punch, but does not need to have intended the specific injury it caused. As a punch or kick is as direct and intentional as physical force gets, to fulfil these elements all the fighter will have to prove is that the strike happened and connected.
Once direct and intentional contact has been shown, the burden shifts to the defendant to prove that the claimant consented to that contact. In an ordinary combat sports claim this would be a trivial matter for the defendant to prove, however where a fighter has used PED the position becomes more complicated. A claimant’s position may be that they consented to being struck by a clean opponent within the rules of the sport. This would require the defendant to establish that this consent extended to blows enhanced by unlawfully administered PED, which is a much harder sell than simply pointing to a signed fight agreement.
Whilst a defendant may argue that implied consent was present under the general ‘properly conducted sport’ principle, which accepts that ordinary contact within a sport is impliedly consented to, the claimant’s counter-argument would be that consent was given on the understanding that the contest was fought within the sport’s rules and testing regime. Therefore, the fact that the fighter had broken these rules, vitiated this implicit consent.
Whether an English court would accept that the use of PED falls outside the scope of implicit consent, rather than just being a breach of contract with the relevant governing body, is untested. However, a claim through this framework may put the argument in the correct procedural position, requiring a rebuttal from the defendant.
Once direct and intentional contact has been shown, the burden shifts to the defendant to prove that the claimant consented to that contact. In an ordinary combat sports claim this would be a trivial matter for the defendant to prove, however where a fighter has used PED the position becomes more complicated. A claimant’s position may be that they consented to being struck by a clean opponent within the rules of the sport. This would require the defendant to establish that this consent extended to blows enhanced by unlawfully administered PED, which is a much harder sell than simply pointing to a signed fight agreement.
Whilst a defendant may argue that implied consent was present under the general ‘properly conducted sport’ principle, which accepts that ordinary contact within a sport is impliedly consented to, the claimant’s counter-argument would be that consent was given on the understanding that the contest was fought within the sport’s rules and testing regime. Therefore, the fact that the fighter had broken these rules, vitiated this implicit consent.
Whether an English court would accept that the use of PED falls outside the scope of implicit consent, rather than just being a breach of contract with the relevant governing body, is untested. However, a claim through this framework may put the argument in the correct procedural position, requiring a rebuttal from the defendant.
Are successful proceedings likely?
The likelihood of this issue arising before the courts is slim. Considering the judiciary’s statements in Brown regarding the legality of boxing, and the general reluctance to intervene in the internal affairs of sporting bodies, it is unlikely that the CPS would pursue the prosecution of a combat athlete caught doping. Furthermore, it is doubtful that a combat athlete would pursue litigation against their opponent.
Combat athletes tend to regard doping as an accepted reality at the highest levels of their sport, with many willing to proceed with bouts despite an opponent failing a drugs test. Moreover, combat athletes are often reluctant to pursue litigation against fellow fighters, with such actions being perceived as a greater betrayal of the ‘fighter’s code’ than doping. This was actively illustrated by the case of Devin Haney, where the superstar boxer chose to bring proceedings against Ryan Garcia for assault following it being revealed that Garcia competed with a PED in his system. However, following considerable backlash from the combat sports community, these charges were eventually withdrawn.
In the unlikely event that a case reaches the courts, it is submitted that there are potential arguments in favour of doping reversing the legal status of combat sports. However, the court’s reluctance to interfere with the disciplinary processes of sporting bodies has been recognised for a considerable period of time. Declaring that doping in combat sports will invoke criminal prosecution, would be a radical step for the courts to take. Although a lower court might be persuaded to take a bolder approach, should the issue reach the Supreme Court it is unlikely that the highest Justices in the country would elect to intervene without Parliamentary approval.
Combat athletes tend to regard doping as an accepted reality at the highest levels of their sport, with many willing to proceed with bouts despite an opponent failing a drugs test. Moreover, combat athletes are often reluctant to pursue litigation against fellow fighters, with such actions being perceived as a greater betrayal of the ‘fighter’s code’ than doping. This was actively illustrated by the case of Devin Haney, where the superstar boxer chose to bring proceedings against Ryan Garcia for assault following it being revealed that Garcia competed with a PED in his system. However, following considerable backlash from the combat sports community, these charges were eventually withdrawn.
In the unlikely event that a case reaches the courts, it is submitted that there are potential arguments in favour of doping reversing the legal status of combat sports. However, the court’s reluctance to interfere with the disciplinary processes of sporting bodies has been recognised for a considerable period of time. Declaring that doping in combat sports will invoke criminal prosecution, would be a radical step for the courts to take. Although a lower court might be persuaded to take a bolder approach, should the issue reach the Supreme Court it is unlikely that the highest Justices in the country would elect to intervene without Parliamentary approval.
Should doping be criminalised?
Criminalising the act of doping in sport is unlikely to significantly add to combating doping in sport. From a deterrence perspective, the strongest deterrent for athletes and their support staff is being banned from their involvement in sport along with the inevitable loss of earnings.
Whilst these considerations carry considerable weight in relation to sports in general, combat sports present a distinctly different context. Unlike athletics, cycling or weightlifting, the purpose of combat sports is to inflict lawful physical force upon another consenting participant. English criminal law tolerates this conduct only because it occurs within a regulated framework where both participants voluntarily accept a defined level of risk. Anti-doping legislation forms part of that framework, with the purpose of not merely preserving the integrity of the sport, but to also minimise the risk of harm that may arise from enhanced physical performance.
From this perspective, the argument for criminalisation is not simply that athletes who cheat deserve a more severe punishment. Rather, it is that competing whilst using PED may expose an opponent to a materially greater risk of serious injury than that to which they consented to. If the law recognises consent as the primary justification for permitting violence in combat sports, there is a strong argument that conduct which deliberately undermines the conditions upon which consent is given should potentially engage criminal liability.
Nonetheless, significant objections remain. As identified earlier, the principal practical difficulty is causation. Even where an athlete has committed an Anti-Doping violation, it will rarely be possible to establish that the prohibited substance materially contributed to the injuries sustained by the opponent. There are also broader constitutional considerations. English criminal law has historically adopted a restrained approach towards the regulation of sport. Not only would introducing a standalone criminal offence of doping represent a significant departure from this established approach, but it would also risk duplication of the comprehensive regulatory regime already administered by governing bodies.
Accordingly, whilst there is limited justification for creating a general offence of doping in sport, the position may be different where an enhanced combat athlete causes serious injury to an opponent. In such circumstances, the more coherent approach may not be to criminalise the act of doping itself, but rather to recognise that deliberate performance enhancement has the potential to undermine the legal basis upon which violent conduct in combat sports is justified.
Whilst these considerations carry considerable weight in relation to sports in general, combat sports present a distinctly different context. Unlike athletics, cycling or weightlifting, the purpose of combat sports is to inflict lawful physical force upon another consenting participant. English criminal law tolerates this conduct only because it occurs within a regulated framework where both participants voluntarily accept a defined level of risk. Anti-doping legislation forms part of that framework, with the purpose of not merely preserving the integrity of the sport, but to also minimise the risk of harm that may arise from enhanced physical performance.
From this perspective, the argument for criminalisation is not simply that athletes who cheat deserve a more severe punishment. Rather, it is that competing whilst using PED may expose an opponent to a materially greater risk of serious injury than that to which they consented to. If the law recognises consent as the primary justification for permitting violence in combat sports, there is a strong argument that conduct which deliberately undermines the conditions upon which consent is given should potentially engage criminal liability.
Nonetheless, significant objections remain. As identified earlier, the principal practical difficulty is causation. Even where an athlete has committed an Anti-Doping violation, it will rarely be possible to establish that the prohibited substance materially contributed to the injuries sustained by the opponent. There are also broader constitutional considerations. English criminal law has historically adopted a restrained approach towards the regulation of sport. Not only would introducing a standalone criminal offence of doping represent a significant departure from this established approach, but it would also risk duplication of the comprehensive regulatory regime already administered by governing bodies.
Accordingly, whilst there is limited justification for creating a general offence of doping in sport, the position may be different where an enhanced combat athlete causes serious injury to an opponent. In such circumstances, the more coherent approach may not be to criminalise the act of doping itself, but rather to recognise that deliberate performance enhancement has the potential to undermine the legal basis upon which violent conduct in combat sports is justified.
Conclusion
The use of PED in combat sports raises questions that extend well beyond sporting integrity. Whilst doping is currently treated solely as a regulatory matter, this article has argued that, within combat sports, its significance may be much greater. The legality of combat sports is dependent upon participants consenting to violence within a regulated framework. Deliberate doping may undermine this consent by exposing an opponent to risks beyond those they agreed to accept.
Although there are credible arguments that doping could remove the legal justification for violence in combat sports, substantial barriers remain. Difficulties surrounding causation and the courts’ reluctance to interfere in the regulation of sport make successful criminal or civil proceedings unlikely under the current legal framework.
Thus, the more compelling question is not whether doping itself should become a criminal offence, but whether its use can transform lawful sporting violence into criminal conduct. Whilst the answer remains uncertain, the issue represents an important intersection of criminal law, consent and sporting regulation that may ultimately require judicial consideration.
Although there are credible arguments that doping could remove the legal justification for violence in combat sports, substantial barriers remain. Difficulties surrounding causation and the courts’ reluctance to interfere in the regulation of sport make successful criminal or civil proceedings unlikely under the current legal framework.
Thus, the more compelling question is not whether doping itself should become a criminal offence, but whether its use can transform lawful sporting violence into criminal conduct. Whilst the answer remains uncertain, the issue represents an important intersection of criminal law, consent and sporting regulation that may ultimately require judicial consideration.