On Throwing Rocks and Breaking Trust: Lessons in Curling and Democracy

A controversy of Olympic proportions rocked the world of curling this week, with headlines breaking through the sport’s usual obscurity into public consciousness. In a preliminary match between two top teams—the reigning champions from Sweden and the former gold medalists from Canada—a Swedish team member accused one of the Canadians of breaking the rules by touching a stone when it was in play. The Canadian player swore back in angry denial. With all players wearing microphones, the world followed along.  

Swedish media called out the infraction as cheating. Canadian media said no harm, no foul. Memes went viral of Canadian fingers going where they shouldn’t. The referees—amateur volunteers, even at this level—suddenly abandoned their traditional laissez-faire approach and became interventionist. Nobody liked that, so they changed back.  

There are two kinds of trust. One is based on honour, and expectations of respect and reciprocity. And there’s trust based on enforcement, underwritten by an authority with the power to punish transgressions. The first works best in small groups who know each other. The second is more vital amid unfamiliar company. What we saw at the Olympics was the first kind of trust crashing down and the second failing to launch. There are echoes here of what’s happening on a much larger scale in many democracies as polarization grows and citizen confidence in public institutions declines.

So, here are five reflections about how trust breaks down—on and off the ice:

1. A curling match is a competition of precision, stamina, and focus. The methodical pace and low intensity make it an accessible sport. As a social environment, curling is inclusive by design. But not the Olympics. If curling is democracy, the Olympics are elections. Everyone can participate, but there’s only one winner.

    

2. When people see themselves losing in a game or in life, they may seek scapegoats or vengeance—especially if they see that loss as unfair. Things that long flew under the radar can become explanatory. When you’re losing your third straight game, a latent concern can turn into a blatant grievance. While that doesn’t invalidate the concern, it may help clarify why this became a big issue for Sweden, but not when Switzerland saw the same thing while beating Canada the next day. Migration and integration pose real challenges for all societies, but xenophobia peaks amid economic despair.

    

3. If you don’t trust each other, you had better hope you can trust the judges. The Swedish team blasted not only the Canadian players but the referees, claiming they didn’t know the rules. Unlike athletes, however, most institutions struggle to learn and adapt mid-stride, and the adjudication structure for Olympic curling proved no exception. This saga may still lead to reforms in the judging of curling, but the system will need to move sensibly and decisively to retain the confidence of players and the public. The best time to identify problems and enact reform is always before a crisis. Yet when it comes to the arbiters of democracy, from electoral authorities to legislative oversight, the crisis has arrived in much of the world. The need to renew trust in democracy’s ability to mediate, arbitrate, and act is urgent everywhere.  

    

4. When trust is at stake, attitude matters. The Canadian player’s expletive explosion did no good. His cursing only validated the accusation, just as Hillary Clinton’s “basket of deplorables” insult fueled long-simmering impressions of imperious disrespect. In the end, the Canadian curler got a formal warning for swearing while his original sin was ignored; if the story had legs, they were greatly lengthened by his reaction. Better off sticking to “fuddle-duddle”—or a classic Canadian “sorry.”  

    

5. Ultimately, the frenzy will fade, and curling will return to the back of the sports pages. But for these players, the cost to their once respectful relations may be permanent. At the societal level, our democracies are strained not only by the loss of trust in institutions, but by the loss of trust in each other. We are increasingly curling alone—and we’re all worse off. Renewing democracy requires renewing the ties that bind.