Lex Ludica and the Indian Athlete — Towards a Constitutional Law of Sport

Introduction

The National Sports Governance Act, 2025¹ (hereinafter, “the Act”) marks a historic turning point in Indian sports law, being the first statutory framework to systematically govern sports administration, elections, recognition, and dispute resolution within National Sports Federations (NSFs) and the Indian Olympic Association (IOA). While the Act establishes structural oversight, it continues to inadequately address the constitutional rights of athletes, treating them more as subjects of governance than as rights-bearing citizens entitled to dignity, equality, and procedural fairness.²

Sport is no longer merely a recreational or administrative concern; it is a site where constitutional values are actively contested.³ From arbitrary exclusions and doping bans to systemic exclusion of marginalised communities and unchecked biometric surveillance, Indian athletes today encounter structures of power without enforceable rights.⁴ Despite the Act’s statutory framework, athletes remain largely positioned as objects of administrative regulation rather than as rights-bearing citizens entitled to dignity, equality, and institutional accountability.⁵

This article argues for a reconceptualisation of sports governance under a constitutional framework, whereby the Act is interpreted and applied as a rights-based law. Drawing on the reasoning in Ajay Hasia v. Khalid Mujib Sehravardi⁶, which emphasised that functional control rather than formal status determines constitutional accountability, the Act must extend enforceable rights to athletes alongside its regulatory mandates.

The following sections examine key constitutional dimensions of the Act, State action, procedural fairness, privacy, anti-discrimination, and federalism, situating Indian law within both domestic jurisprudence and international standards, including the UNESCO International Charter of Physical Education, Physical Activity, and Sport, which recognises sport as a rights-based domain.⁷ The objective is to transcend mere institutional reform and advance a sports law framework that institutionalises justice, procedural fairness, and the dignity of athletes as fundamental imperatives.

State control and public functions

A central question in Indian sports law, especially after the National Sports Governance Act, 2025 has come into existence, is whether sports federations, most notably the Board of Control for Cricket in India (BCCI) and other NSFs, qualify as “State” under Article 12⁸ of the Constitution⁹. The significance is profound: if recognised as “State” actors, these federations would be directly accountable under constitutional provisions, including the obligations to act fairly, reasonably, and without arbitrariness under Articles 14 and 21, a status now made more relevant by the statutory powers conferred under the Act.¹⁰

In Zee Telefilms Ltd. v. Union of India¹¹, the Supreme Court concluded that the BCCI was not “State” under Article 12, primarily because it was neither established by statute nor financially dependent on the Government. This formalist reasoning, however, has been overtaken by the enactment of the Act, which grants federations statutory authority, control over national representation, and access to public resources, functions with clear public law consequences.

The Act, fundamentally transforms the relationship between the State and sports federations. By establishing statutory bodies such as the National Sports Board and the National Sports Tribunal, empowering the Centre to grant or revoke recognition, and making compliance mandatory for participation in national and international events.¹² The Act ensures that NSFs perform functions with clear public law consequences. Decisions regarding athlete selection, access to funding and facilities, and imposition of bans or suspensions are no longer private matters, they constitute the exercise of statutory authority.¹³

In light of the post-Puttaswamy jurisprudence¹⁴, which emphasises dignity, autonomy, and fairness as central to public governance, federations exercising statutory powers or public functions under the Act should be treated as instrumentalities of the State.¹⁵ Their decisions, affecting athletes’ livelihoods, bodily autonomy, and career trajectories, clearly have coercive and binding effects, warranting constitutional scrutiny.¹⁶

The Act, however, does not explicitly acknowledge this transformation. While it introduces statutory oversight, it stops short of bringing federations under constitutional review, a significant lacuna. To address this, the legislation should expressly provide that all recognised federations, when performing public functions under the Act, are deemed “State” within the meaning of Article 12. Such a clarification would strengthen jurisprudential clarity and empower athletes with enforceable remedies against arbitrary or discriminatory conduct.¹⁷

Due process in selections and bans

Few areas in Indian sport exhibit greater legal opacity than the processes governing athlete selection, exclusion, and disciplinary suspension. Athletes are frequently removed from squads without explanation, denied trials without notice, or suspended without a hearing. Such decisions, often justified on technical or performance-based grounds, have profound implications for careers, reputations, and livelihood. Yet, under current practice and under the Act, athletes lack a codified entitlement to procedural fairness in selection and disciplinary matters.¹⁸

This represents a significant constitutional gap. Article 14 guarantees equality before the law and imposes a duty that State action must be non-arbitrary, transparent, and reasoned.¹⁹ In Maneka Gandhi v. Union of India²⁰, the Supreme Court held that any action with civil consequences must observe procedural fairness. Selection or exclusion of athletes by a body recognised and empowered under the Act falls squarely within this principle.²¹

While the Act establishes mechanisms such as the National Sports Election Panel and the National Sports Tribunal, it fails to embed minimum procedural safeguards for federations’ decision-making.²² Notable, it does not require federations to:

(i) issue show-cause notices prior to suspensions;

(ii) provide written reasons for selection or exclusion;

(iii) publish selection criteria in advance; and

(iv) permit athletes to challenge adverse decisions within a specified time-frame.

The absence of such safeguards creates scope for arbitrariness and limits accountability. In practice, athletes must resort to filing writ petitions before High Courts, an expensive, time-consuming, and often inaccessible remedy, particularly for younger or marginalised players.²³

To address this gap, the Act should incorporate an explicit due process clause, requiring that all decisions related to selection, exclusion, disciplinary action, or eligibility adhere to minimum procedural guarantees: prior notice, the opportunity to be heard, reasoned orders, and a clearly accessible appeals process.²⁴ Implementing such safeguards would align Indian sports governance with constitutional principles while promoting reasoned decision-making and institutional trust.

The right to sport and athlete autonomy

In India, sport is frequently treated as a privilege rather than a fundamental entitlement. This view overlooks the significant constitutional values engaged when individuals are denied access to training, competition, or participation under statutory or institutional frameworks such as the Act. Although the Constitution does not expressly recognise a “right to sport”, such protection can be inferred from Articles 21 (right to life and personal liberty), 19(1)(g) (freedom to practise any profession), and 39(f) of the Directive Principles (ensuring opportunities for the healthy development of children). Collectively, these provisions support the notion that meaningful participation in sport is integral to personal dignity, self-realisation, and social mobility.²⁵

Moreover, the Act does not explicitly recognise this normative claim. Athletes continue to be regulated, selected, or excluded by federations without statutory acknowledgement of their fundamental entitlements.²⁶ The Act does not codify federations’ duties to ensure equitable or transparent participation in sporting opportunities.

This lacuna becomes particularly stark when viewed against the Court’s evolving jurisprudence on Article 21. In K.S. Puttaswamy (Privacy-9J.) v. Union of India²⁷, the Supreme Court recognised that privacy, bodily autonomy, and individual dignity are integral to the right to life. In Olga Tellis v. Bombay Municipal Corpn.²⁸, it was held that the right to livelihood is inseparable from the right to life. Applying these principles, the denial of access to competition or training without lawful justification may constitute a violation of constitutional liberty rather than a mere administrative decision.²⁹

These concerns are accentuated by institutional practices such as:

(i) denying selection trials without explanation;

(ii) arbitrarily withdrawing travel clearances;

(iii) failing to provide safe and accessible training facilities; and

(iv) requiring participation in events despite legitimate health concerns.

These practices affect not only professional interests but also bodily integrity, informed consent, and individual dignity. Yet, the Act provides no explicit procedural or substantive safeguards to protect athletes in these circumstances.³⁰

A transformative sports law should provide statutory recognition of the right to sport, not as a guarantee of selection, but as a guarantee of fair access and equitable treatment in pursuit of sporting opportunities. Such a right could be grounded in constitutional principles and explicitly codified in the Act, ensuring athletes a minimum standard of legal protection across all aspects of participation.³¹

Biometric surveillance and data rights

Contemporary sport is increasingly reliant on data. Athletes are monitored through global positioning system (GPS) trackers, heart-rate sensors, sleep apps, video analytics, injury diagnostics, and mental health assessments. This information is often collected by national camps, federations, private clubs, and technology providers without meaningful consent or transparency regarding storage, usage, or sharing. While athletes’ biometric and performance data now form a critical aspect of their professional profile, existing law, including the Act, provides no explicit safeguards.

Notably, the Act does not address this emerging concern. While it establishes frameworks for training, rehabilitation, medical testing, and performance evaluation, it contains no provisions safeguarding informational privacy, bodily autonomy, or data protection.³² This omission is striking, especially given the enactment of the Digital Personal Data Protection Act, 2023 (DPDP Act)³³ and the Supreme Court’s recognition of privacy as a fundamental right in K.S. Puttaswamy (Privacy-9J.) case³⁴.

Under the DPDP ACT, biometric and health-related data fall within the scope of “digital personal data” and require valid, informed consent.³⁵ The DPDP Act also imposes duties on “data fiduciaries” to process such data lawfully, fairly, and securely.³⁶ Unless sports federations are explicitly brought within this regime, or equivalent safeguards are incorporated into the Act, athletes will continue to lack enforceable rights over their biometric and health-related information.

Furthermore, the use of analytics introduces risks of algorithmic bias and data misuse. Tools that classify an athlete as “injury-prone” or “mentally unfit” may influence selection or sponsorship decisions. Without statutory oversight, such profiling may remain unchallenged. Similarly, performance data collected in national camps could be shared with commercial partners without consent, resulting in the commercial exploitation of athlete data without transparency or compensation.³⁷

To address these concerns, the Act should incorporate explicit data protection provisions for athletes, including:

(i) the right to be informed about the collection, use, and sharing of personal data;

(ii) the right to access and rectify personal data;

(iii) the right to withdraw consent at any time;

(iv) a prohibition on discriminatory or exclusively algorithmic decision-making; and

(v) mandatory reporting and auditing of federations’ data handling practices.

Furthermore, all recognised federations under the Act should be treated as data fiduciaries under the DPDP Act and held liable for non-compliance. These obligations would align sports law with constitutional privacy standards, strengthen athlete autonomy, and foster institutional trust in an era of pervasive biometric surveillance.

Structural discrimination and access

Despite the stated commitment to inclusivity in India’s national sports policy, access to sport remains highly unequal. Structural barriers, rooted in caste, gender, geography, and disability, continue to determine who participates, who is selected, and who succeeds. These exclusions are often systemic, arising from underfunded rural infrastructure, opaque scouting processes, gender-biased coaching systems and the marginalisation of athletes with disabilities outside para-sport events. The Act currently does not sufficiently address these inequities. Yet, the Act does not expressly recognise institutional discrimination as a legal concern, nor does it impose affirmative duties on federations to remedy structural inequities.

This omission is notable given the scope of Article 15, which prohibits discrimination on grounds of religion, race, caste, sex, or place of birth.³⁸ Although Article 15 primarily binds the State, its logic extends to institutions performing public functions, especially when such bodies receive public funding, are recognised by law, and exercise authority that significantly impacts athletes’ careers.³⁹

A constitutionally informed sports law must address these inequities. Structural discrimination in sport may manifest in ways such as:

(i) selection trials held exclusively in urban centres;

(ii) coaching personnel drawn predominantly from dominant linguistic or caste groups;

(iii) unequal access to safe training facilities for women athletes; and

(iv) Exclusion of athletes with disabilities from mainstream training programmes.

The cumulative effect of these practices reinforces historical marginalisation and undermines the development of sporting talent. The Act does not impose any affirmative obligations on federations to monitor or report representational disparities, nor does it provide for internal equity audits, outreach programmes, or diversity benchmarks within governance structures.⁴⁰

To address these inequities, the Act should incorporate:

(i) Equity obligations: Federations must prepare and publish annual inclusion plans, providing disaggregated data on selection, funding, and facility allocation.

(ii) Representation standards: Minimum representation of women, Scheduled Castes (SC)/Scheduled Tribes (ST)/Other Backward Classes (OBC), and persons with disabilities should be mandated in executive bodies and Selection Committees.

(iii) Regional parity norms: Federations must ensure equitable access to trials, camps, and competitions across all States and districts.

(iv) Statutory complaint mechanisms: Confidential grievance cells and whistleblower protections should be established to address discrimination complaints.

These reforms are not merely symbolic. They are necessary to realise the constitutional commitment to substantive equality in one of the most visible and socially influential public domains, sport.⁴¹ A sports law that ignores discrimination is a law that upholds the status quo.

Tribunals and dispute resolution gaps

One of the most ambitious components of the Act is the establishment of the National Sports Tribunal (NST) a statutory body designed to deliver time-bound, specialised dispute resolution. The NST is empowered to adjudicate disputes relating to athlete selection, disciplinary action, eligibility, and the recognition of sports federations.⁴² Its creation represents a shift away from ad hoc Internal Committees and fragmented litigation before the High Courts. However, the Act’s framework for the NST lacks sufficient procedural detail and raises concerns regarding accessibility, institutional independence, and procedural adequacy.⁴³

The first concern is access to the Tribunal. The Act does not specify who may initiate proceedings, the procedural modalities for filing cases, or the categories of decisions subject to appeal. In the absence of a clear procedural code, athletes, particularly those from underprivileged backgrounds, may face significant difficulties in navigating the system. Furthermore, the Act does not provide for legal aid or an ombuds function to assist athletes without representation in challenging unfair decisions.

Second, the independence of the Tribunal raises concerns. While the Act provides for the appointment of technical members with expertise in sport or law, it does not adequately insulate the NST from executive influence.⁴⁴ The Act lacks explicit provisions regarding appointment procedures, tenure security, and removal processes that would ensure institutional autonomy. This deficiency is especially problematic in disputes involving federations closely aligned with political or commercial interests.

Third, the Act does not clearly situate the NST within the broader constitutional adjudicatory framework.⁴⁵ Unlike tribunals established under the Finance Act, 2017 or the National Green Tribunal Act, 2010⁴⁶, the Act does not provide an explicit appellate route to the High Courts or the Supreme Court. Nor does it define the relationship between the NST and international arbitration or disciplinary mechanisms employed by bodies such as the International Olympic Committee (IOC) or World Anti-Doping Agency (WADA). This lack of clarity generates uncertainty regarding finality, jurisdiction, and enforceability.

To strengthen the Tribunal framework, the Act should incorporate the following reforms:

(i) Procedural codification: Establish a detailed procedural schedule, including standing rules, timelines, and standardised formats for filing disputes.

(ii) Appeals architecture: Provide a clear appellate mechanism, either to the High Courts under Article 226⁴⁷ or to a dedicated appellate sports Bench.

(iii) Institutional independence: Ensure that the appointment and removal of members are subject to judicial or parliamentary oversight.

(iv) Access and support for athletes: Mandate legal aid, athlete-friendly documentation, and digital filing platforms to ensure genuine accessibility.

Absent these safeguards, the NST risks being merely symbolic rather than serving as a meaningful avenue for justice. A tribunal that lacks legitimacy and functional effectiveness will not bridge the trust deficit between athletes and sports governance bodies; rather, it may exacerbate it.

Legislative competence and federal limits

A fundamental constitutional question arising from the Act is whether Parliament possesses the authority to enact such legislation. This is a significant concern because, under India’s constitutional distribution of powers, “sports” is listed under Entry 33 of the State List (List II), which ordinarily confers legislative competence on the State legislatures.⁴⁸ The question thus arises: how can a Central law prescribe binding rules for sports federations operating nationwide?

The Act does not explicitly articulate a constitutional basis for Central intervention, instead assuming Parliament’s competence without reference to enabling provisions in the Constitution. This omission is particularly problematic if States or federations subsequently challenge the law’s validity on federal grounds.⁴⁹

One possible justification for Parliament’s competence lies in Article 253, which empowers it to legislate for the entire country to implement international treaties or agreements.⁵⁰ India is a signatory to the Olympic Charter, the UNESCO International Charter of Physical Education, Physical Activity and Sport, and the World Anti-Doping Code, all of which mandate adherence to governance, integrity, and fairness standards in sport.⁵¹ If the Act is framed as implementing these obligations, Parliament’s legislative competence may be validly invoked under Article 253.

Alternatively, Parliament could invoke Entry 97 of the Union List in conjunction with Article 248, particularly where regulation pertains to inter-State federations, international representation, or anti-doping frameworks.⁵² Courts have also recognised that when a subject attains national significance, Parliament may legislate in the public interest.⁵³

However, to shield the Act from constitutional challenge, the drafters must be explicit. The legislation should incorporate:

(i) a Preamble linking the Act to India’s international obligations;

(ii) a Statement of Objects and Reasons⁵⁴ citing Article 253 as the enabling provision; and

(iii) an explicit clarification that States may continue to legislate on local sports governance, provided such laws do not conflict with the national framework.

Such measures would balance the need for national uniformity in elite and Olympic sports with the federal principles of the Constitution, clarify Parliament’s legislative intent, and reduce the likelihood of future litigation.

Absent such constitutional anchoring, the Act risks being invalidated or rendered ineffective, potentially undermining decades of efforts to establish coherent governance of Indian sport.

Conclusion

The National Sports Governance Act, 2025 represents a historic opportunity to reform the governance, management, and experience of sport in India. For the first time, Parliament has sought to replace a fragmented system of executive orders and ad hoc guidelines with a comprehensive statutory framework. Yet, despite its structural ambition, the Act remains primarily procedural, concentrating on recognition norms, federation discipline, and institutional architecture.⁵⁵ It does not fully recognise athletes as rights-holders, nor does it embed the constitutional principles essential to transformative public law.

This article has argued that for the Act to realise its full potential, it must be reconceptualised as a constitutional sports law. Federations performing public functions should be treated as “State” under Article 12, thereby rendering them accountable to constitutional obligation.⁵⁶ Athletes subjected to selection, exclusion, or disciplinary measures must be guaranteed due process under Article 14.⁵⁷ Participation in sport must be recognised as a protected liberty under Article 21⁵⁸, while biometric surveillance and data collection must be regulated in accordance with the right to privacy. Structural discrimination in access to sport must invoke institutional duties under Article 15⁵⁹, and the Act itself should be explicitly anchored in Article 253 to ensure legislative validity and respect federal principles.⁶⁰

Sport in India is no longer merely a private or recreational domain; it is a site of constitutional significance, public funding, and institutional legitimacy. Athletes are not subjects of federated discretion, they are citizens entitled to dignity, fairness, and justice. Accordingly, the Act must be amended not merely to achieve administrative compliance but to ensure constitutional coherence and rights-based governance.

If India aspires to global sporting excellence, it must begin by upholding the rule of law on its own playing fields, embedding fairness, accountability, and dignity at the core of its national sporting framework.