PARIS, FRANCE - AUGUST 10: Suhyeon Kim of Team Republic Korea reacts while performing a Clean & Jerk during the Weightlifting Women’s 81kg during on day fifteen of the Olympic Games Paris 2024 at South Paris Arena on August 10, 2024 in Paris, France. (Photo by Ryan Pierse/Getty Images)

In the grand tradition of the Olympic Games, we are often reminded of the lofty ideals of fairness, integrity, and the indomitable spirit of human competition. Yet, it seems these ideals are little more than relics of a bygone era, as the 2024 Paris Olympics have so brilliantly demonstrated. Enter Kim Su-Hyeon, a weightlifter from South Korea’s Busan Metropolitan City Hall, who appears to have been cast not as a competitor but as a tragic figure in this farcical play.

Kim’s journey has been one marred by heartbreak, not from a lack of talent or effort, but from what can only be described as a series of inexplicable—and, dare we say, suspicious—judgments. Take, for instance, her experience at the 2021 Tokyo Olympics, where after successfully lifting 106kg in the snatch, she tragically failed all three attempts in the clean and jerk. The most contentious of these was her second attempt at 140kg, where two of the three judges declared her lift a failure due to what they claimed was a "wobble" in her arm. A wobble, mind you, that seemed visible only to these judges, as the rest of the world watched in disbelief. Had that lift been counted, Kim might have stood on the podium, a bronze medalist. Instead, she was left in tears, disqualified and distraught.

Fast forward to Paris, 2024. The script remained eerily similar, almost as if the judges had it pre-written. Kim Su-Hyeon, now competing in the women’s 81kg category, lifted 110kg in the snatch, only to have her third attempt at 113kg, initially declared successful, overturned after review. The clean and jerk was no different: a successful lift of 147kg on her second attempt was also reversed post-review. The irony here is thick enough to cut with a knife—the very same judges who initially approved her lifts were overruled by a mysterious panel, one can only assume had a different agenda.

One might ask, what is the point of having judges at all if their decisions can be whimsically overturned by a review panel? It’s almost as if the Olympic motto of "Citius, Altius, Fortius" has been replaced with "Arbitrare, Injusta, Retractare"—to judge, to unjustly overturn, and to perpetuate bias.

Kim Su-Hyeon’s Olympic journey is not just a personal tragedy; it’s a damning indictment of the very institutions that are supposed to uphold the values of the Olympics. When athletes pour their blood, sweat, and tears into their craft, only to have their dreams crushed not by their shortcomings, but by the opaque and questionable decisions of those in power, we must ask ourselves: What has become of the Olympic spirit?

Is it now the case that once an athlete has been "marked," they are forever doomed to be on the wrong side of judgment? Kim Su-Hyeon’s story suggests that this might very well be the case. If so, then the International Weightlifting Federation (IWF) and the Olympic authorities have a duty, not just to Kim, but to all athletes, to conduct a deep and thorough investigation into these decisions. Anything less would be a betrayal of the very essence of what the Olympics are supposed to stand for.

One cannot help but wonder if the true Olympic event isn’t the competition itself, but rather the athletes’ ability to withstand the arbitrary and capricious nature of those who wield the power to decide their fates. In this arena, Kim Su-Hyeon has shown more strength and resilience than any judge’s ruling could ever diminish.