Opinion: The Good, the Bad and the Ugly of the Ali Expansion Act
Editor’s note: The views and opinions expressed below are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of Sherdog.com, its affiliates and sponsors or its parent company, Evolve Media.
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Markwayne Mullin, the Republican representative for Oklahoma’s 2nd district, on May 26 introduced bill H.R. 5365 into the 114th Congress. The bill, co-sponsored by Massachusetts Democrat Joseph Kennedy, seeks to amend 1996’s Professional Boxing Safety Act to include “fighters of combat sports” under the safety provisions of said Act. Quite simply, the official political trumpet has been sounded for the Muhammad Ali Act to apply to mixed martial arts.
Poetically, the bill was introduced on the same day that the
Muhammad Ali Boxing Reform Act was enacted by the 106th Congress
back in 2000. The Ali Act was an amendment to the aforementioned
Professional Boxing Safety Act that expanded its legislation to
fight coercive, exploitative and anti-competitive practices on the
managerial and promotional side of the boxing industry. For years,
its potential implementation was a consistent and polarizing
hot-button MMA debate, especially as the
Ultimate Fighting Championship’s stranglehold on the industry
grew. An unbeaten MMA veteran in his own right, Mullin seemed like
just about the best potential congressman to take up this cause;
and hey, he even has bipartisan co-sponsorship from a Kennedy.
You can read the bill in its entirety here, and if you’re so inclined, you can look at Mullin’s congressional voting history here, campaign donations here and a quick and easy distillation of his political views here. In short, Mullin is a cattle man who owns a plumbing company and other small businesses. His primary political focus is the energy industry, which is where most of his campaign contributions come from, and he has most of the opinions you’d expect from a devoutly Christian Pentecostal Republican congressman from Oklahoma. He’s also a clever identity politician, too, insofar as he claims he doesn’t view himself as a politician. He has used “A rancher. A businessman. Not a politician!” as a campaign slogan and portrays himself as a classic anti-partisan idealist.
Before we get to the MMA nuts and bolts, let me say that if the Ali Expansion Act proves successful, it would be a wonderful political feather in Mullin’s cap. Anytime sports get worked into Congress, there’s some added sex appeal to the story above and beyond a slate of bills that appear mundane to the average person. Mullin just took office in 2013, is only 37 years old, appears dedicated to bipartisan bridge-building, has strong Christian fundamentals and, as “the cagefighting politician,” appeals to the ongoing Republican obsession with classic hard man masculinity, as best exemplified by the political ascent of Tom Cotton.
Cotton, now 39, parlayed his time as a U.S. Army Captain -- with tours of Iraq and Afghanistan, plus a Bronze Star -- into a seat in the House of Representatives. After just two years in Congress, Cotton became the Junior Senator from Arkansas. Essentially, if Mullin’s political career was a premium cable drama, the Ali Expansion Act is definitely the legislation he would be pushing. Not only is Mullin earnest and genuinely concerned with MMA’s competitive environment, but the Ali Expansion Act is just too perfect for the kind of rugged-but-righteous political image he is -- and absolutely should be -- constructing.
As for the MMA particulars of the Act, its slated outcomes are fourfold. One, impose a one-year limit on promotional contracts; two, require all promoters to inform fighters of the revenue made from their fights; three, prohibit a fighter’s manager from having direct or indirect financial interest in his or her client’s contests (i.e. you cannot be a fighter’s manager and promoter simultaneously); and four, an official sanctioning body, certified by both the Association of Boxing Commissions and Federal Trade Commission, should be created to rank MMA fighters.
This is where the fangs come out and Ali Act discussions typically take a split toward opposite ends of the spectrum. Firstly, I must note that I’ve seen no real opposition to the idea that revenue transparency is important and that even if the UFC is to continue with a bonus system that “incentivizes performance,” it is rational and just for fighters to know the revenue their events and fights draw so as to have proper bargaining power. In fact, the biggest backer of the Ali Act for MMA over the years has been lawyer Robert Maysey, whose Mixed Martial Arts Fighters Association also pushes for unionization across the sport. Maysey himself has identified this as the most important purpose for the Act to include MMA.
“The main benefit of this would be promoters have to disclose revenue to the athletes made from their bouts,” Maysey told ESPN’s Brett Okamoto in May. “My experience has been that very few actually have these rights and with the UFC, I’ve been told managers who have actually exercised those rights would never do it again because there have been repercussions.”
That’s the unilateral positive. When reviewing the Ali Expansion Act’s other tenets, however, simple notions of “good for the sport” or “bad for the sport” get murky.
It’s good thinking to want to separate the roles of promoter and manager in the combat sports context, as it has been historically corrosive in boxing. There are obvious conflicts of interest like this in MMA with deleterious effects, such as Ali Ibrahim Abdelaziz’s previous double-dipping by booking his clients on World Series of Fighting cards before he was let go by the promotion. With that said, many small MMA regional markets subsist on stable events promoted by individuals who wear both manager and promoter hats, and dismantling that structure could have negative consequences on the frequency of fights in a given market and, in turn, the chances fighters have to compete and grow in their own backyards.
Furthermore, even if you firmly believe in the separation of promoter and manager, it’s a rule that can only work if enforced and enforced with consistency. It’s not as though the Ali Act has entirely disrupted this practice in boxing, as one need only look at boxing’s premier puppeteer, Al Haymon, who has essentially done both roles for years under the non-specific job title of “advisor.” In turn, he has become the single most powerful individual in the entire sport. If state athletic commissions are left to their own devices to pursue and punish Ali Act offenders, it will almost assuredly be a toothless pursuit; and if federal oversight is what’s deemed necessary to ensure proper compliance, it’s a whole other can of worms entirely.
The one-year contract limit is quizzical and has not been especially well-received. Its heart is in the right place; few people deny that champion’s clauses, as popularized by the UFC and now emulated by virtually all notable MMA promotions, are anti-competitive garbage, but the unintended consequences of legislation like this seem obvious and dismal. A contract is essentially a promise, and that’s a big reason why many athletes seek long-term deals for financial security. MMA is a sport where injuries and extended inactivity, at least periods of longer than 12 months, are commonplace. Erik Koch came back to the UFC on May 29 after missing two years for a spate of injuries; he made $18,000 for his May 2014 loss to Daron Cruickshank and then made $21,000 to show and the same to win against Shane Campbell at UFC Fight Night “Almeida vs. Garbrandt.” Also, keep in mind that entering the Campbell fight, Koch had lost three of his last four since September 2011. If he was negotiating a contract every 12 months during that period, between losses and then a two-year injury freeze, how much would he have realistically been offered to return?
If anything, renegotiating a contract on an annual basis favors champions and superstars who are consistently in a position of potential leverage. However, it could put a major squeeze on the general population in the UFC or even on a Bellator MMA roster, as it gives the promotion every incentive to be bullish on negotiating with mid-level or underperforming talent. If fighter freedom and security is the desired outcome, a one-year negotiating period actually seems to promote a rich-get-richer, poor-get-poorer world.
Lastly: an independent sanctioning body certified by the ABC and FTC. Anyone familiar with the boxing world has pure contempt for and no faith in any kind of sanctioning body of this kind -- and with good reason. What good does it accomplish and by what measures would any promotion be beholden to its decrees? Since such organizations build their coffers by forcing promoters and fighters to pay sanctioning fees for title fights, are they going to handle out titles, and if such a sanctioning body handed out titles, who would actually fight for them? It’s not just unnecessary but aggressively so.
The simple truth: For as close a relationship as MMA and boxing enjoy, for all their similarities as combat sports cousins, they have distinctly different structural and political traits. I don’t think I’m overstepping my place to say that the vast majority of the MMA community wants fighters to have greater bargaining power, expanded professional rights and freedom and better potential paydays. Mullin taking on the Ali Expansion Act is a great potential step in that direction but only if the bill’s backers can pivot and redraft, considering more MMA-specific legislation to meet their goals. The sooner that happens, the sooner an evolving form of the Ali Expansion Act can draw in more grassroots support from fighters and fans, which will be crucial in what figures to be a public fight pitting advocates of the bill against the UFC and its lobbyists.
