The European Broadcasting Union and European Athletics recently published a set of guidelines titled Raising the Bar, targeting the systemic sexualization of female athletes through predatory camera angles. By directly addressing how live television directors choose to frame, slow down, and broadcast women in competition, the new directives seek to dismantle a multi-million-dollar industry pattern of voyeurism masquerading as sports coverage. But the issue runs much deeper than a few bad camera angles. It is built into the economic incentives of sports media.
For decades, sports broadcasting has operated under a quiet, dirty compromise. While male athletes are framed as symbols of strength, power, and technical mastery, female athletes are frequently subject to a split screen of public perception. They are celebrated for their speed or agility in one breath, while the camera lingers on their midriffs, hips, and buttocks in the next.
The guidelines, backed by elite Olympians like Holly Bradshaw, Ivana Španović, and Blanka Vlašić, seek to break this cycle. But implementing them means confronting the directors who call the shots, the broadcasters who chase ratings, and the platforms that profit from the resulting viral clips.
The Mechanics of the Gaze
Live sports television is a high-speed, high-pressure operation. A director sitting in a production truck outside a stadium controls dozens of camera feeds simultaneously. They make split-second decisions about which angle to broadcast to millions of homes.
Under these conditions, bias is not always an accident. It is a series of deliberate creative decisions.
Historically, the industry has prioritized what some directors call the "human element" or "emotional resonance" of a performance. In practice, when covering women's track and field, this often translates to low-angle shots positioned directly behind high jumpers as they prepare to run, or extreme close-ups of long jumpers as they land in the sand. The EBU's new documentation demonstrates that these choices are rarely made when broadcasting male competitors in the exact same events.
Consider the high jump. A camera positioned low and directly behind the landing mat captures a highly revealing angle when an athlete clears the bar and lands on her back.
From a purely technical standpoint, this camera position is useless. It tells the viewer nothing about the athlete's approach speed, the angle of her takeoff, or her bar clearance technique. It exists purely to capture a compromising view.
By analyzing real broadcast footage, the Raising the Bar document shows how simple shifts—such as moving the camera slightly to the side or cutting the feed before the landing—preserve both the competitive narrative and the athlete's dignity.
The Social Media Loop
The broadcast truck is only the first stage of the problem. Once a compromising shot is aired, it enters a secondary, highly profitable online ecosystem.
Inappropriate clips and slow-motion replays are routinely ripped from live broadcasts, packaged into short-form videos, and uploaded to platforms like TikTok, YouTube, and X. These videos quickly amass millions of views, driven by algorithms that reward sensationalism and sexualization. The comments sections under these uploads are frequently filled with explicit abuse.
The psychological toll on the competitors is immense.
Olympians are entering major stadiums knowing that a minor wardrobe shift or a poorly angled slow-motion replay could become permanent fodder for online harassment. British pole vaulter Holly Bradshaw has spoken candidly about arriving at competitions more focused on where the cameras were positioned than on her actual performance.
This is a direct distraction from athletic achievement. When an athlete has to waste mental energy worrying about whether a camera operator is filming her from behind as she prepares to jump, her ability to compete at the highest level is compromised.
The Uniform Fallacy
Whenever the issue of sexualization in sports is raised, a predictable counter-argument emerges. Critics point to the uniforms, claiming that if female athletes did not wear revealing clothing, the problem would not exist.
This argument is as lazy as it is inaccurate.
First, women's sports uniforms are heavily regulated by governing bodies, often with input from corporate sponsors who prioritize aerodynamics, heat management, and brand visibility. Second, and more importantly, the uniform does not control the camera.
A camera operator working a male track event does not zoom in on the athlete's compression shorts. They frame the whole body to show the stride. The camera is an active participant in how the sport is framed, and blaming the uniform shifts responsibility away from the professionals who are paid to document the event fairly.
Furthermore, some argue that tightening broadcasting standards will lead to a drop in viewership.
This claim relies on the outdated assumption that audiences only watch women's sports for sexual appeal. The explosive growth of women's basketball, soccer, and gymnastics over the past several years proves that viewers want to see elite competition, high-stakes drama, and top-tier athleticism.
Broadcasting agencies that continue to rely on cheap, suggestive shots are catering to a shrinking, vocal minority while alienating the broader audience that wants to engage with the sport seriously.
Why True Sport is Better Television
The most compelling aspect of the EBU’s guidelines is the insistence that respectful coverage is actually better sports journalism.
In sports like the pole vault, the real drama lies in the run-up, the final steps, the plant of the pole, and the explosive takeoff. This requires wide, dynamic tracking shots that capture the immense physical forces at play.
By focusing on these elements, directors can tell a far more exciting and technically accurate story.
Broadcasters must understand that these new guidelines are not about censorship or limiting artistic freedom. They are about professional standards.
When a camera crew prioritizes a cheap, lingering shot over the technical execution of a world-class athletic feat, they are failing at their jobs. The real test will be whether broadcasting companies actively train their crews to respect these guidelines, or if they will continue to let the hunt for online engagement dictate how women's sports are shown to the world.
