The "whole" athlete in sport: the development of athletes, their teams, and humanisation vs dehumanisation

I’ve just spent a week putting together an application for a research programme, delving into the world of sport, community-cohesion and inclusion.

I have fond memories of watching sports since my childhood, with my interest evolving into adulthood as a sports fan and psychologist; increasingly a “social psychologist” interested in the ability of sport to promote community-level wellbeing and unite people from all walks of life.

(A side note: I believe that sports and the arts are two of the most impactful individual- and group-level wellbeing boosters, with the potential to also generate fair and sustainable revenue streams and positively contribute to local communities)

I am encouraged to say the world has moved on in the last 10 years as it pertains to sport and sporting performance.

In the year following my Masters graduation in 2016, I had the opportunity to spend time at international sporting events that included:

— Two weeks in Roland Garros for the French Open, one of the four major ‘Grand Slam’ events in tennis

— A week in Las Vegas for Floyd Mayweather v Conor McGregor — one of the biggest combat sports events of all time — including events leading up to the big fight; the weigh-in, a locally-organized event feature up-and-coming professional boxers signed to Mayweather Promotions , and an event titled ‘Breakfast of Champions’, which celebrated individuals from a diverse range of backgrounds (include female and hispanic individuals) who had made a meaningful contribution in the world of, or adjacent to, boxing

Since attending these events, sport psychology research has become more developed and nuanced.

In the world of tennis, the presence of a ‘sport psychologist’ has become more commonplace, mental health and burnout are being spoken about, and the role of social media has developed, with important questions being brought to the fore; this includes its adverse impacts, ones which are being called out by fans, athletes and others in the world of sport.

For example, in the opening game of the English Premier League a couple of weeks ago, when Ghanaian Antoine Semenyo experienced racist abuse and the footballing community came together in his support.

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French Open Juniors, 2017

In 2017, I recall sitting courtside for several of the Junior matches. One of the athletes I saw compete was Amanda Anisimova, a Wimbledon and US Open finalist in 2025 who was, at the time, being touted as “the next Maria Sharapova”; parents, coaches and IMG agent were all a part of her team, in attendance on court at the French Open and watching her compete. I recall reflecting at the time: “is this all too much for a junior athlete?”

It struck me that there was considerable pressure and expectation for this player, early in her athletic career.

As a part of the IMG Academy, based in Bradenton Florida, Anisimova was part of an environment of peers around her. Whilst offering social support, in some instance this can heighten the pressures and expectations on athletes.

A 2022 study titled “How Athletes, Parents and Coaches See Psychosocial Development in Youth Sport” highlights the range of experiences shared by athletes in a group setting:

– On social support and belonging: “Having friends outside [name of town] was a salvation for me."

– On emotional well-being and identity: “I’m pretty popular in my school. I even get away sometimes with stuff others don’t because I play in the basketball team."

But also:

– On cognitive and skill development: “You always get two or three in a team that think they are the bee’s knees, and they become a problem."

– On life preparation: “They are a pack of alpha dogs trying to establish who is top dog,” which can result in negative social dynamics.

I will go into this further in this article, drawing on research from the concepts of “humanisation” and “dehumanisation” in sport.

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Humanisation and dehumanisation in sport

The above experiences shared by athletes in group environments sheds light on why the “whole” development of an athlete, where a well-rounded education and resources are provided to encourage character and resilience (not just in the sport but outside of it), are important.

It has been suggested that understanding that the athlete is a whole and human person is the next phase in the evolution of sport psychology. One such book dedicated to this very topic is 📖 Developing and Supporting Athlete Wellbeing: Person First, Athlete Second (Campbell, Brady, and Tincknell-Smith, 2021)

Understanding our beautiful, individual differences and co-existing with one another, within our sports centres, communities and all spaces (both physical and digital), is the bedrock that will determine the healthy success of our athlete communities.

What does healthy success look like?

I am suggesting that some of the ingredients include…

— Athletes improving at their own pace

— Individuals and teams supporting one another during performances, and supporting one another outside of the supporting environment

— Teachers and coaches acting as mentors and role models, whilst also co-existing within the flat-structure of the organisation (i.e. leading by example, and not merely sharing knowledge and information in a didactic way; the athlete and coach relationship is one where mutual learning can and will occur)

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The Women’s US Open Final 2025

Last night I was watching the pre-warm-up routines of both players before the women’s final. There was one point prior to the players arriving on court, where television cameras displayed both athletes, in this case Amanda Anisimova and Aryna Sabalenka, engaging in tennis ball throwing to and from their respective coaches.

An example of flow, play, groundedness and collaborative connection. It was quite mesmerising to watch and provided an example of pre-performance routines (PPRs) in sport, defined as “a sequence of task-relevant thoughts and actions which an athlete engages in systematically prior to his or her performance of a specific sport skill” (Moran, 1996).

The effectiveness of pre-performance routines in sports: a meta-analysis (Rupprecht, Tran, and Gröpel, 2024)

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In ‘Developing and Supporting Athlete Wellbeing: Person First, Athlete Second’, Chapter 7 outlines the impact of selection and deselection on athlete wellbeing, in the context of Australian women’s cycling.

We are told the story of Sarah, in detail. The description is vivid and her story is grave.

“Here I go, I hand over my mobile phone to coaches as I enter the Australian Institute of Sport (AIS) premises for the first day of the selection camp. This means no contact with my boyfriend or parents… I am in isolation with no connection to the outside world.

I am given a placard with the number 7 on it by coaches soon after I arrive. I am no longer Sarah, I am now number 7. I sit down for what feels like my mugshot. I am not allowed to smile as I hold the placard… My photo is then placed on a large wall in the testing lab with 20 other female athletes who are also vying for Australian team selection…

For the duration of the camp, cycling staff will only refer to us athletes as the number we are given rather than by our names. We are also told that for the duration of the camp, we are being monitored and assessed 24 hours per day. After my mugshot, I hear my number called, I have to drop off my bags and be back in 20 minutes for a V02 max test. I don’t bother unpacking my gear because if I fail this test, I am out.”

Putting yourself in Sarah’s shoes, some useful questions to ask are:

— What is coming up for you as you read this story?

— What thoughts or feelings do you have around this situation?

— How do you think Sarah will fare under these conditions? Is there a better way for this selection process to be managed?

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We read more of Sarah’s experience as she enter the testing room…

“I do exactly as the physiologist asks and my body responds to each increment that is imposed on it… The staff are standing so close to me that I can feel their breath blowing on my face… After about 20 minutes, the test is finally over.

My body is shaking with exhaustion, and my heart rate is sitting just over 200 beat per minute. I am breathing in as much oxygen as I can to try and recover.

Physiologists flurry around me collating all my numbers and pricking my skin for my blood. Nobody says great job. Nobody cares about how I am feeling. They just work around me in silence. I feel like an object that is being poked and prodded for my output numbers. I wonder if I have done enough to pass.”

Sarah’s experience continues into the evening…

“Wake up Number 7,” you need to be kitted up and ready to ride. Your suitcase must be packed in preparation for elimination. We are doing the midnight mountain challenge! Last one back from the mountain is out.”

“My body feels weary as I am still recovering from the massive first day… I smash down a caffeine gel to try and lift me. I am not known as a climber as I am not small in stature… I am relieved when I hit the summit and turn ready to descend… I work every element of the road until I arrive back at the AIS.

I can see all the girls are already there and I realise that I have finished last. They are all looking at me as I toll in and have sympathetic looks on their faces. Numbers were called, none of them mine. They know what this means for me. I know what it means, no Australian team for me this year.”

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Sarah’s story is a form of what is known as ‘creative analytical practice’ (CAP), whereby the researches have produced a tale from ‘research data’ — from analysis of multiple source of media data (known as the ‘digital data corpus’); in this particular story, this included public forms of media, including twitter, news reports, personal blog posts, press releases and online cycling magazine articles.

It is to be noted that, although creative licence has been used to tell this story, rigour was enhanced by integrating paraphrased quote from the digital data corpus.

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Returning to Roland Garris (French Open) 2017

And related to the topic of humanisation and dehumanisation

Amongst the encouraging experiences I witnessed whilst at Roland Garros, I witnessed something an athlete-team relationship that was particularly memorable.

The earlier rounds of the junior tournaments are played on smaller courts. One such athlete was taking part, described as an up-and-coming hopeful for her country, had both parents courtside watching her play. I will refer to this athlete anonymously, as Amelia.

I had watched this athlete play before. She had come through in earlier rounds and, on court, possessed a more calm and introverted disposition; as opposed to the more vocal and expressive dispositions that are seen by other tennis players.

By chance, I found myself sat on the side of the court close to where her team were sat. I would later come to learn that two of the team members sat there were her mother and her father.

These outside courts are small, and on the junior circuit — and indeed on the professional circuit — it is common place for players to glance over to and interact with their team. Words are exchanged, as are non-verbal gestures. Indeed, on the WTA tour, on-court coaching has been allowed.

The nature of the player-team relationship can be observed; there are examples of encouragement and positive reinforcement, of approaches where the coach plays a more stoic role, and examples of where the coach-player relationship is clearly one of intensity and/or can be negatively-charged, offering a feedback loop that is not helpful to the athlete on the court.

As the match progressed, the reaction of the man who was this player’s father became increasingly impatient, cynical and even irate.

“The was rubbish!”, “What is she doing?” The main exclaimed out loud, so that many in his vicinity — and, I am guessing, the player herself — could hear.

Nervous and knowing looks glanced her way by her mother, who appeared to look more fraught and upset as the match went on.

On court, the athlete remained relatively cool and composed. There were glances here and there towards her team and, as her match finished and she lost, she maintained her composure and walking off the field to meet her parents.

I wasn’t able to witness the off-court interaction that went on, but it left me asking the same sort of questions as with Sarah’s story:

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Again, as with Sarah’s story, I would invite you to ask yourself when it comes to this narrative for Amelia:

— What is coming up for you as you read Amelia’s story?

— What thoughts or feelings do you have around this situation?

— Without knowing the match result, how do you think Amelia would have reasonably fared under these conditions? What can we establish about the dynamic within Amelia’s team off the court, and how conducive is this to her development as a “whole” athlete, in terms of her flourishing potential both on the court and off of it?

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As it happens, athlete Amelia, remaining seemingly cool and calm on the court — proceeded to get through the match as best as she could, even despite the audible on-court chatter coming from her team. She ended up losing the match.

The reaction from the father on court was extreme and emotional, throwing his hands into the air and storming off.

In sport, a framework known as the ‘humanisation framework’ has been developed to analyse the practices associated with selection, de-selection and non-selection for athletes in the Australian Women’s cycling context.

It was originally developed for application in a healthcare setting by Torres et al. (2009), who were interested in the examination of what it means to be ‘human’. It has been successfully used since being established and, in 2014, Kavanagh and Brady proposed that this framework can be applied to a HP (high performance) sport setting due to its many parallels with healthcare.

One of the elements in the original 2009 framework is none as ‘insiderness’, and this has been found to be problematic in sports research; athletes who were achieving competitively and meeting coaches’ and team managers’ expectations were socially rewarded with an insider status, while those who did not meet coaches’ and team managers’ expectations where ostracised or isolated.

It is easy to see how the above can apply to Sarah and Amelia’s experiences — in once instance, insiderness appears to be occurring in the ‘selection process’ amongst peers and the selection body and, in another, in the ‘on-court-performance’ process amongst her team, in this case her parents.

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Athletes supporting athletes: a humanising and “whole athlete” approach

All of this leads us to consider the importance of the role of the “whole person” over and above the “competing athlete”; in others words, considering the person first and the athlete second.

In an environment where the whole person is tended to, from the health and wellbeing and overall journey of performance of the athlete — and not just the elite performance of the athlete without tending to the athlete as a whole being — I would suggest that good performance can be achieved whilst also maintaining good health and wellbeing of the athlete, inside and outside of their sport and — crucially — whether they are selected, not selected, and indeed whether they go on to pursue their sport professionally or circumstances and preferences change and they pursue a life outside of sport.

The athlete’s identity, outside of being merely an athlete, as well as practices and behaviours that reinforce this “reward mechanism based purely on success” are not wholly healthy for the athlete, and I would suggest that more of a focus of humanisation and the identity of the athlete as a person is key.

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Going back to Amanda Anisimova and Aryna Sabalenka, I was encouraged that the crowd community got behind both athletes, both athletes appear to have strong tie with their respective teams (we their oncourt interviews) and both athletes exchanged supportive words with one another.

This is an example of encouragement, of ‘more than one winner’ on the course, of the effects of ‘insiderness’ being diminished. In speaking like they did of one another, this is an example of mutual humanisation.

Amanda Anisimova, as an athlete who has been public about her own journey with mental health and grief (losing her father and coach suddenly which she described as “one of the hardest things I’ve ever been through”), and after losing her maiden Grand Slam final and sharing in her on-court speech that stated (paraphrasing) “my mum is one of the strongest people I know… what she has done for my sister and I”); these are examples of high-profile, top-performing athletes who are supportive of one another, and setting a good example for the broader culture of the sport.

I hope that athlete teams, communities and bodies can take note of this, as we endeavour to make sports wholly community-focused, whole-person-centred and — ultimately — athletes can thrive as individuals inside of and outside of their sorting identities, and maintain a healthy wellbeing whilst also enjoying their sport, and deriving qualities of character, resilience and growth that is emotional, psychological and spiritual in its nature.

Equally, there is a need to better consider how to create cultures that provide more benefit and are humanizing in nature, and diminish the potential for dehumanisation and the emergence of unhelpful and unhealthy practices.

Jasraj (Jazz) Hothi @jasraj