There’s a popular story that goes something like this: investing time, money, and resources into performance-sport will in turn contribute to improving public health. It’s a nice tale, and variations of it have been told over and over in the past few decades. The ideas at the core of it are so embedded in politics, policy, media, everyday conversations, and even some scholarship, that few question it. After all, watching world-class athletes perform clearly inspires people to be active, doesn’t it? And sport is healthy, isn’t it? Common stories would make us believe the answer to these questions is “yes”. But the truth, as our recent paper shows, is far less rosy and far more complicated.

At the heart of these widespread beliefs lies an enduring myth that shapes how we think, behave, and invest resources. Myths are often embedded in the social fabric of modern life and guide policy decisions, justify public spending, and help people and institutions maintain power and legitimacy. And the myth that performance-sport promotes public health is one of the most pervasive within sporting landscapes and beyond.

Part of the problem lies in how ‘sport’ is discussed. The word is often used interchangeably with ‘physical activity’, a much broader category that includes walking, cycling, dancing, yoga, gardening – basically any movement that can benefit health. But performance-sport, the kind we watch on TV and sometimes train our children to compete in, is quite different. You may know this version of sport under other names, such as ‘elite’, ‘competitive’ or ‘high performance’ sport. This model is the dominant way in which sport is imagined, organised, and practiced across the Western world. It’s characterised by a rigid structure of rules and regulations, an over-focus on performance and winning, and is increasingly interlocked with big business and commercial interests. And unlike general physical activity, performance-sport is not something most people participate in – or even want to.

The evidence that performance-sport does not promote public health is clear. Decades of research have shown that funding such a version of sport does not lead to higher participation rates in the general population. In some countries, government investment in professionalised performance sport has even coincided with decreased participation within the general public. The supposed ‘trickle-down effect’ – wherein elite success inspires the masses to move – simply doesn’t happen in any meaningful way. Major events like the Olympics are routinely justified on the promise of a health legacy, yet post-games analysis continues to show no robust measurable increase in physical activity at a population level. The widely touted idea that funding major sporting spectacles will make the population healthier is at best misguided, wishful thinking, and at worse, a gross misuse of public funds.

But the problem doesn’t stop there. Get this: performance-sport can actively harm health! High injury rates, especially among children and adolescents, are common. This is particularly so in sports like rugby, American football, and combat sports, which have increased risks of traumatic brain injury and long-term neurological damage. Pressures to perform in such sporting cultures can also lead to disordered eating, mental health struggles, and the normalisation of playing through debilitating pain and injury – all factors that are often romanticised as dedication but are, in reality, harmful actions that can and do cause significant suffering. It would be remiss of us to not also mention, with heavy hearts, that in such performance focused sporting cultures, child abuse is widespread. We are reminded here of Bertolt Brecht’s shrewd one-liner, “great sport begins where good health ends”.

The commercial forces behind performance-sport complicate the picture further still. Major sporting events and organisations are often sponsored by companies selling unhealthy products – like fast food, sugary drinks, alcohol, and gambling. McDonald’s, for instance, spent two decades from 2002 to 2022 sponsoring grassroots football in England. These partnerships blur the line between sport and harmful consumption, embedding corporate interests in a space that claims to serve public health.

Despite these realities, the myth that performance-sport promotes public health persists – propped up by what we might call ‘small truths’. These are the personal stories of people who found joy, purpose, or better health through performance-sport. Such anecdotes are real and meaningful to those who lived them, but they are not a solid foundation for scientific analysis or public policy. Assuming that what worked for a few, must work for all, is not just wonky reasoning – it’s potentially harmful. Such beliefs often spring from what scholars have described as ‘sport evangelism’ – a deep, often unexamined conviction that sport is inherently good. This mindset can blind people to evidence, skew research, and lead to policies that reinforce myths while ignoring broader realities.

An important question that flows from the above discussion is, who benefits from this myth? Unsurprisingly, the answer often lies in power and profit. Performance-sport is a global industry worth billions. It provides political prestige, commercial revenue, and a huge platform for corporate advertisement and public relations (aka ‘sports washing’). For governments, investing in performance-sport is a visible, emotionally charged gesture that appears to promote national pride and wellbeing – even if it fails to deliver real health outcomes. For corporations, sport can serve as a marketing platform disguised as a public good.

The harm, meanwhile, is widespread. When public money is directed toward performance-sport, it is often at the expense of accessible, community-based opportunities for everyday movement. Leisure centres close. Youth programs lose funding. Participation costs rise. Health inequities deepen. And through it all, the myth endures, shielding performance-sport from the scrutiny it deserves.

This isn’t to say performance-sport has no value. For some, it fosters community, purpose, and personal growth. But these ‘small truths’ should not be mistaken for universal outcomes that apply to the masses. Should performance-sport continue to receive public funds in the name of health, its benefits must be clearly evidenced, and its harms openly acknowledged. Public health policy, along with popular understandings of sport, must be grounded in robust evidence. But alas, despite decades of the so called ‘sports sciences’, this is not the current state of affairs.

What’s to be done about all this then?

Well, we need to tell better stories about sport. More truthful ones. Tales that are more faithful to, and closely aligned with, reality. So, echoing our recent call to action, our appeal is this. Please contribute, in any capacity you can, to work with us, and others, to destroy this pervasive myth once and for all. From athletes, parents and fans, to scholars, coaches and leaders in the sporting industry, everyone has a part to play. Whatever your connection to sport is, you can help.

Whenever everyday conversations, lessons and lectures, policy decisions, organisational mission statements or research appears to work from a position that ‘sport is healthy’, ask why. When you hear politicians claiming a sporting mega-event will get the ‘nation moving’, see companies like McDonalds sponsoring grassroots sport, witness athletes sacrificing their bodies ‘for the game’, or come across people and organisations encouraging children to play sports associated with brain damage, such as rugby, boxing or American football, because they are ‘healthy’ – don’t simply accept such things. Question it, challenge it. Help re-shape the narrative.

Together, we can all contribute to more critical, honest, and accurate stories about performance-sport and public health. From that position, scholars, sports leaders, policymakers and others would be better placed to go about the hard task of working toward a different, healthier, more equitable and physically active future.

Author Biographical Notes:

Jack Hardwicke is a critical social scientist focused on understanding people, ideas and society, sometimes via sport. He is an advocate for using value-driven research and scholarship to tackle social problems at their root. He’s currently working as a Senior Lecturer in Sociology of Sport at Nottingham Trent University. Read more of his work here.

Christopher R. Matthews, is a social scientist and epistemologist with years of experience teaching and researching in sports departments.  His latest sole-authored book, Doing Good Social Science, was published by Routledge in April 2025. He co-edited Teaching with Sociological Imagination in Higher Education (Springer) and Global Perspectives on Women in Combat Sports (Palgrave Macmillan). He is currently leading the editorial team for The Routledge Handbook of Sport, Concussion and Brain Injuries, while also preparing the manuscript for his next book The Act of Social Theory. More information about his various contributions to academia are available here.