Please Don’t Stop the Music: Skating Through the Minefield of Mr. Copyright and Mrs. Rule 40

The glitz of Olympic figure skating often masks a complex web of legal hurdles. Two recent cases in Milan highlight how easily an athlete’s dream can be jeopardized by missing paperwork. The Spanish champion Tomas-Llorenc Guarino Sabaté nearly saw his Olympic journey end before it began. His program, inspired by the Minions, hit a wall when the franchise creators denied him the use of their music and iconography. After an intense "tug-of-war" that lasted until the eleventh hour, Sabaté successfully secured the rights to all four tracks, narrowly avoiding the need to scrap years of training days before the event.

U.S. skater Amber Glenn finds herself in a "gray area" regarding the track "The Return" by Canadian artist Seb McKinnon (Clann). Unlike many mainstream hits, McKinnon’s contract dictates that only he—not his label—can authorize licenses. Having discovered the unauthorized use via global broadcast, the artist is now seeking a formal resolution.

When an athlete steps onto the ice, they aren't just presenting a sport; they are broadcasting a multi-layered artistic work. These two incidents serve as a cautionary tale for the sporting world. If your costume and music evoke a protected global brand (like the Minions), you aren't just paying tribute—you are utilizing industrial property that requires explicit, often expensive, permission. Many teams assume Olympic venues cover all music rights. However, as the Glenn/McKinnon case proves, moral rights and specific artist-label contracts can override general permits, especially when performances are televised globally. Failing to clear rights early doesn't just lead to "cold showers" from lawyers; it creates immense psychological pressure on athletes who should be focusing on triple axels, not legal settlement. In the modern Olympic era, a skater’s legal team is becoming as essential as their coach.

Rule 40 of the Olympic Charter is one of the most debated and powerful regulatory tools of the International Olympic Committee (IOC). Implemented in 1991, its purpose was to protect the exclusivity of official TOP (The Olympic Partners) program, preventing what is known as "Ambush Marketing."

Rule 40 states: "No athlete, coach, trainer or official who participates in the Olympic Games may allow his person, name, picture or sports performances to be used for advertising purposes during the Olympic Games," unless authorized by the IOC Executive Board.

This restriction is not permanent; it focuses on the Olympic Period (usually starting a few days before the opening ceremony and ending a few days after the closing). During this window, athletes cannot publicly thank personal sponsors on social media or appear in advertisements for non-official partners (such as Coca-Cola, Visa, Samsung, etc.).

Following legal challenges (notably in Germany), the IOC relaxed these rules. Athletes can now appear in ads for non-Olympic sponsors during the Games, provided the campaign is "generic," planned well in advance, and does not use Olympic Intellectual Property (e.g., the rings, the specific Games logo, or words like "Olympics," "Medal," or "Gold").

Athletes are allowed a limited number of "thank you" messages to personal sponsors on social media, as long as they do not imply a commercial link between the sponsor and the Games.

If an athlete uses a costume referencing a commercial brand (like Universal's Minions), Rule 40 could overlap with industrial property law. If the IOC deemed the costume an "ad" for a non-sponsor, they could ban it under Rule 40 regardless of music copyright.

Problems arise when an artistic choice (music/costume) is so iconic that it acts as branding. The athlete then faces a double risk: a civil copyright lawsuit and sporting sanctions from the IOC.

The primary criticism of Rule 40 is that it restricts athletes' ability to monetize the moment of peak visibility in their careers.

To put it plainly, Rule 40 creates a commercial bubble. Inside this bubble, only the "official" brands exist. For the few weeks of the Games, an athlete's face, name, and even their hard-earned sweat effectively "belong" to the IOC's sponsors.

While the 2019 reform was a step toward fairness, it still leaves athletes walking a tightrope. You have to be careful that your choice of music or the "yellow" of your costume doesn't accidentally trigger a legal battle with a multinational giant.

Article published in today’s Lexology newsletter written by our senior associate Elena Prandoni.