Live Strong or Die

The conventional wisdom is that Lance Armstrong has wrecked his once-sterling brand and reputation in the kind of crash that he used to avoid in his sport.  But how sterling was that reputation, really, before his Oprah confessional?  In the seven-plus years since he retired from the Tour de France and most of his competitive racing, Armstrong suffered through accusations, personal attacks and formal investigations, enough that any casual sports fan certainly would cast a jaundiced eye at any of Armstrong's significant accomplishments.  In other words, the brand had already taken a hit.

The argument is about what happens next to Armstrong's legacy, and it's a more difficult question than would seem on the surface, because despite the cheating, so much of Armstrong's story remains inspirational on its own, and because so much good has come from his now-tainted accomplishments.

The sport portion of the argument is somewhat easily dismissed.  Sure, Armstrong cheated, but he did so in a sport rife with cheating.  Cycling was -- and probably still is -- so filthy, that once the Tour de France stripped Armstrong of his titles, they couldn't award them to the 2nd or 3rd place finishers in ANY OF THE YEARS in which Armstrong one, because all of them have been found guilty of cheating, admitted to cheating, or are under serious suspicion of cheating.   In the eyes of many competitive cyclists, the moral decision isn't "to cheat or not to cheat", but rather how many people they are willing to hurt in order to avoid getting caught.  In a world full of cheaters, Armstrong was simply the best at it.  But now his name is no longer associated with the best of the sport.

The more poignant question is how Armstrong's admission cuts into the enormous success of the Livestrong foundation, the fighting cancer support and service group that Armstrong originally launched in his own name in 1997.  In sixteen years, the Livestrong Foundation has raised more than $470 million dollars, of which nearly 80 percent has gone directly to survivor support groups and programs.  And of course, Livestrong initiated the ubiquitous support wristbands, which have launched a zillion imitators from the serious to the sublime.  There's been a lot of good-doing here.  Does the end justify the means?

The answer, unfortunately, has to be no, and this is really the big swinging hammer that shatters the glass of Armstrong's image.  Armstrong simply hurt way too many people, encouraging some to make reckless moral decisions, and tarnishing the images of other noble champions.  Armstrong made other people look small and petty, when in fact they should have had the towering might of truth and justice on their side.  He made tons of money, and dated some of the world's most beautiful and talented women, entirely on the premise of a lie.  As a society, we simply have to be against this on principle.

The good news is that Livestrong should live on.  It has done so much good, and having replaced Armstrong's name on the letterhead a decade ago, it is such a brand name of its own that it should be insulated from Armstrong's demise.  It has even lent its name to a soccer stadium, nicely placed in the center of the country, perhaps geographically representing our national focus on curing cancer.  

The shame is that it didn't need to be this way.  Armstrong's recovering from cancer just to be able to compete in the Tour de France should have been inspirational enough.  Admittedly, his winning the Tour de France multiple times in dominating fashion called more attention to his accomplishments, and thus to the causes, but he gave up a good story and a good family in pursuit of legend.  He was Icarus on a bicycle, pedaling too close to the sun.

And in that way, we see the entirety of the value of Armstrong's brand.  It has been erased from the past, replaced in the present, and despite Armstrong's recent contrition, God only knows who would embrace it in the future.

Additional Resources

http://www.livestrong.org
http://examiner.com