Should star athletes lose role-model status for smoking pot?

What a difference a decade makes. When star Olympic swimmer Gary Hall tested positive for pot in the late ’90s, he was suspended for three months and lost all his endorsement deals, including industry giant Speedo. This year, when Michael Phelps was caught taking a bong hit, he was suspended for three months… and kept most endorsements. Speedo said they did not “condone such behavior” but affirmed Phelps as a “valued member of the Speedo team and a great champion.” Prestigious Swiss watchmaker Omega declared that Phelps’ action involved his “private life and is, as far as Omega is concerned, a non-issue.” At this writing, only Kellogg has publicly dropped Phelps, saying what he did was “not consistent with the image of Kellogg.” But otherwise, the tone of those involved matches that of the International Olympic Committee, which said Phelps would “continue to act as a role model.”

But should such an athlete still be considered a role model — a positive influence for others to look up to? It is indeed worth lauding that Phelps handled his suspension with humility and explicitly apologized. In the Clintonian era of “I didn’t inhale,” it is refreshing to see him taking responsibility for his actions — so in that way he has done his part. But have those in authority done theirs?

By suspending him, the U.S. Olympic Committee has, and Kellogg has — but everyone else is sending a dangerous message by excusing him. Speedo’s statement is oxymoronic: its continued endorsement means they are indeed condoning his behavior. And Omega explicitly said taking drugs was no big deal! (Just for the record, today’s marijuana is worrisomely addictive and causes far more harm than a short-term high — for example, damaging the respiratory system significantly more than tobacco.)

When sponsors and the general public decry a star’s illegal actions but impose no consequences, the athlete has become a negative role model, not a positive one. Every watching child learns that rules are conditional: you can do something illegal, immoral or damaging and get away with it. As long, of course, as you are good at what you do. The overall lesson: being good at what you do matters more than being good.

Should star athletes lose role-model status for smoking pot?

Olympian Michael Phelps has shown some poor judgment lately, not to mention lack of savvy concerning the 24/7 populist media. Yet if Phelps has truly devastated his followers, we’ve got much bigger problems on our hands than a stoned swimmer.

In the water, where one usually finds Phelps, he’s won 12 gold medals. Out of the water, he behaves, for the most part, like a typical young guy — if a typical young guy had millions of dollars and his choice of beauty pageant winners and starlets to date.

I was fairly convinced after Phelps’ drunken driving conviction in 2004 that no one viewed him as a perfect role model on dry land. Yet his amazing feat in Beijing (hardly assisted by the least performance-enhancing drug ever) served his country well. Thanks to Phelps, swim teams nationwide find themselves flooded with kids eager to learn a sport with life-long health benefits.

So the official uproar? A just-for-show circus. The U.S. Olympic Committee didn’t “do their part;” they gave their golden boy a meaningless snap of the goggles. He’ll be off probation in plenty of time for the world championships in July. And the Kellogg’s reaction? Please. Forget about mere pot smokers, Kellogg’s loves junkies — well, the junk-food kind — and were just hoping to avoid jokes linking their sugary products to marijuana-induced “munchies.” Sorry, that Saturday Night Live skit has already sailed.

Following his DUI in 2004 — involving substance-abuse behavior that actually kills other innocent lives, every day, Phelps was properly penalized and properly repentant, right? Otherwise, all those sponsors wouldn’t have been so eager to have him hawk their watches and cereal, despite actions far more dangerous to society than an ill-advised bong hit.

“He’s a fast swimmer,” Brent DeMartin explained back then, when asked why he was waiting outside a courthouse for Phelps’ autograph. There you have it, a 7-year-old clear on the concept that to want to swim like Phelps didn’t mean one wanted to drive like him, or smoke like him, or be like him in every way.

Of course, DeMartin may someday want to date like Phelps. After all, a kid has got to have a dream….