It's time for the Olympics to have official charity partners
Jonny Harper explores why the Olympics are missing out on a great opportunity by not having charity partners.
Jonny Harper
In the words of the International Olympic Committee (IOC), “The goal of the Olympic Movement is to contribute to building a peaceful and better world”.
Indeed, in many ways last week’s opening ceremony for the Rio 2016 Olympic Games was a great celebration of humanity.
Athletes from nations normally considered bitter rivals stood side by side to take the Olympic oath. Brazil showcased its rich culture in a colourful show that focused on climate change. And for a fleeting and deeply moving moment, the world stood as one to grant thunderous applause to the debuting refugee team.
Unfortunately, this year the IOC has also given commentators ample reason to doubt its commitment to its mission.
The lofty rhetoric of peace in the Maracanã felt cruelly ironic given the political and economic turmoil currently gripping Brazil, and the ceremony’s lavish spectacle sat in blunt contrast to the stifling poverty of Rio’s favelas, some of which are only a few hundred meters away from the athletes’ village.
Equally disappointing is the total lack of visibility for charities at the Olympics.
The IOC has a number of high-profile and lucrative corporate partnership deals with the likes of VISA, Coca-Cola and McDonalds, and these names are seen by billions across the globe during the games.
However, there isn’t a single charity to be seen in the bloated list of official partners – and to rub it in, the highly restrictive ‘rule 40’ legislation means that it’s extremely difficult for charities to even mention the games without being prosecuted.
This feels like a huge missed opportunity. Choosing a few official charity partners for the Olympics would be a great way for the IOC to fulfil its goal of building a better world by giving these charities unprecedented exposure and publicity.
It’s hard to see any meaningful obstacles to this. The associated PR would be great for both the Olympics and its corporate partners, and there is already precedent of successful similar sporting charity partnerships.
For example, FC Barcelona have displayed the Unicef logo on their first team shirts since 2006, donating over £16m in cash so far (as well as sponsorship space worth many times that amount). Some competing Olympic nations also have official charity partners.
As well as choosing a headline charity, the range of charities involved could be widened by choosing different partners for different causes. An environmental charity could be chosen as the official climate change partner, for example.
Long-term Olympic legacies (which often seem to turn out poorly) could be particularly enhanced by a system like this. Imagine how much greater the legacy of London 2012 could have been if the organisers had arranged volunteering partners to take over the legacy work afterwards?
The Olympic Games are an uplifting celebration of humanity with some undeniable flaws. There are no quick fixes for inequality and poverty, but official charity partnerships would be a meaningful first step towards a new era where we can celebrate and enjoy the Olympics without the sort of controversy that has dogged Rio 2016.