One of the first rules children are taught is, "If you don't have anything good to say, don't say anything at all," but is the Iditarod Trail Sled Dog Race's new Rule 53 about preventing mushers from acting like children, or more about prohibiting them from objectively critiquing race-related matters they have a difference of opinion about?
To be clear, the new rule -- not publicly announced and that race officials have been sheepish to comment on -- states: From the date a musher signs up for the 1,000-mile sled dog race until 45 days after the last entrant completes the event, mushers shall "not make public statements or engage in any public conduct injurious to and in reckless disregard of the best interests of the race" or its sponsors.
The wording of this rule is vague and subjective, almost purposefully so. What specifically defines a remark as injurious or reckless? In the past few years, mushers have voiced their opinions on social media pages and websites about various issues, from back-of-the-packers airing their grievances about being removed from the race against their will, to mushers with pre-race concerns about route safety through snowless -- and subsequently dangerous -- sections like the Happy River Steps and Dalzell Gorge.
Would those mushers now be considered rule-breakers and subsequently subject to the penalties for violating Rule 53, which include forfeiture of entry fees, involuntary withdrawal, disqualification or prospective disqualification for a period of years?
In my experience, mushers already struggle with speaking up for themselves and what they believe to be their rights -- or, even more important, their dogs' rights -- against what is a large and powerful entity. Also, unlike professional athletes of other sports, most mushers don't have agents, spokespersons and public relations liaisons, so when they have concerns, some mushers may struggle with how to articulate their arguments, and so turn to the media.
To be blunt, it's what we in the media are here for: to give a voice to those not being heard, and to share information that the masses may find meaningful so they too can weigh in on the subject. Some may argue that musher silence is golden, and I've even, dishearteningly, read one past champion post on his own social media page regarding the rules: "Don't like 'em. Start your own race!" As a member of the media, I believe constructive criticism from those within the sport, and who know it most intimately, is not a bad thing. In fact, it should be noted that many of the biggest blemishes to the race's reputation over the years have also led to largest and most positive changes to how the race is run.
After the appalling 2009 Iditarod, a year when the inexperience of numerous rookies was thrust into the limelight after six dogs died -- some literally freezing to death -- and several first-time racers had to be rescued, people spoke up -- first mushers, than the media and then the fans. From it, the race reevaluated its prerequisites and made changes requiring rookies to complete several hundred more miles of qualifying races, having their dog care and overall performance evaluated with "rookie report cards" during those races, and having to have an Iditarod veteran vouch for them in writing, all before signing up for the Last Great Race.
For several years things went great; then in 2013 came another disaster. A dog dropped from a team in Unalakleet suffocated after being buried in snow while awaiting transport. Again, people spoke up, including mushers, and once again positive changes were implemented. More permanent and protective dropped-dog structures were erected in both Unalakleet and McGrath, and, a 40-page document detailing dropped-dog care was created by the race's veterinary staff.
Sure, it's understandable why the Iditarod would prefer to only highlight the favorable aspects of the race. Everyone prefers kudos to complaints but that should not be enough reason to attempt to muzzle mushers, and I doubt it is. At the heart of this controversy, I believe the race is trying to appease its sponsors, which brings to light a much larger issue: Do sponsors give to selflessly support a meaningful event, or for ulterior motives such as swaying public opinion in a way that will favor them at a future point?
If the latter is true, should this bind the event and its participants from making objective critiques of that sponsor's practices and policies, as happened this past month when Iditarod veteran and Hall of Fame member Dan Seavey wrote a commentary he viewed as pro-Iditarod Trail and not anti-Donlin Gold -- the race's primary sponsor -- where he questioned the company's intention about building a road parallel to, and possibly intersecting with, the trail?
This of course leads to other questions. Does disagreeing with a race sponsor mean disparaging it? Is speaking up the equivalent of speaking against? These are questions that mushers will have to ask themselves, but ones I personally hope they are permitted to ask out loud.
Joseph Robertia is a freelance writer living with his wife, Colleen, and daughter, Lynx, in Kasilof, where they operate Rogues Gallery Kennel. They have run several mid-distance mushing races, and Colleen has run the Iditarod and Yukon Quest.
Correction: A proofreading error resulted in the preceding commentary misidentifying the notorious Happy River Steps as the "Happy Valley Steps" upon first publication.
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