Stuck in the Dark Ages: Why Professional Road Cycling Needs a Revolution

Professional road cycling is stuck. Trapped in a cycle of tradition, ego, and outdated thinking, it’s a sport that fails to reflect the values and energy of modern society. While the world around it evolves — embracing inclusion, mental health, authenticity, and meaningful leadership — cycling clings desperately to a “win-at-all-costs” mentality that no longer serves anyone, least of all the athletes themselves.

This isn’t just about the lack of diversity or the outdated team structures. It’s a deeper, systemic issue. Professional road cycling is one of the most cutthroat environments in sport — where results are everything and human beings are often reduced to statistics. It's an industry driven by fear, pressure, and a narrow definition of success.

One of the biggest reasons for this is the recycled leadership model that dominates the sport. Former riders step into managerial roles with the same philosophies they raced under, perpetuating a culture that’s resistant to innovation. Of course, there are exceptions — incredible, forward-thinking individuals and teams do exist, including my own — but they remain the exception, not the norm. They are the minority in a system that rewards conformity over vision.

There is no strong, collective leadership in professional cycling. There's no central mission to develop well-rounded human beings or to foster environments where riders thrive beyond the bike. Instead, the message is clear: your worth is your performance. And that mentality is dangerous.

We are creating generations of athletes who have no identity beyond the bike. Cyclists who are so singularly focused on results that when the wins dry up or their careers end, they are lost. They haven’t been taught life skills. They haven’t been supported as people. And when their usefulness to the team fades, so too does their self-worth.

Sport — especially cycling — should be a vehicle for something greater. It should be a platform for inspiration, resilience, connection. But we’ve reduced it to a highlight reel of podiums and power numbers. Victories fade. What lasts are the values, the lessons, and the personal growth earned through the journey.

Professional cycling has an opportunity — one it’s failing to seize — to evolve into something far more powerful than a results machine. Because the world has changed. The way brands engage with consumers has changed. Visibility on a jersey isn't enough anymore. Brands want connection. They want storytelling. They want to be associated with athletes who are real, relatable, and human.

That’s where the true potential lies — in the stories behind the stats. In the processes. The setbacks. The sacrifices. The mental battles. The community. That’s what inspires people. That’s what grows audiences. That’s what brings value to sponsors far beyond logo placement.

By continuing to centre everything around winning, cycling excludes the very people it claims to want to reach: young people, women, casual fans, and new audiences. Because most people don’t live in a world of constant winning. They live in a world of ups and downs. They want role models who are human — who show them that struggle and vulnerability can coexist with strength and ambition.

And if we want to grow the sport — if we want cycling to matter in the years to come — we need to rethink the model. We need to stop chasing short-term wins and start building long-term impact. That means investing in people. In leadership. In education. In storytelling. It means shifting the definition of success away from just victories and toward value.

The current system might still work for a small group — for the same old audience, the same egotistical, performance-obsessed bubble. But it is not sustainable. It is not modern. And it is certainly not inclusive.

It’s time to break the cycle.

Bringing The Fire

There wasn’t going to be fireworks this race, it was going to be a patient burn. The relatively short 104km course left a lot to be desired with nothing more than a few roughly surfaced uphill drags and undulations to test the peloton. I wanted a hard race so, even though I was happy it wasn’t another 38°C day like TT champs, I knew the parcours weren’t enough to make the race. 

My strategy became more about patience rather than power. In the past, I probably would have attacked a lot, tried to liven up the race and risked the win in favour of good racing; but with experience comes composure. We ticked over the majority of the race but, finally, with 12km to go, I turned up the heat and attacked. Carla Oberholzer came with me and, although we were working well together, we were brought back by the bunch with 5km to go. The composure I had maintained the whole race was wearing thin.

Just then, however, we rolled over a section of really rough rumble strips and suddenly, my gears were frozen. Luckily, I was stuck in the middle of the cassette but then, of course, someone attacked on the downhill. With some furious cadence I was able to stay with the bunch and thankfully no one seemed to noticed. I couldn’t believe it. I had kept it together the whole race and now, with the national title being decided in a matter of kilometres, I only had two gears. 

Image: Cyclenation

This was really the moment for composure. But it was also the moment for fire. I wanted the win badly and, two gears or no gears, I had to keep it together and wait for the right moment. I took a calming breath, I got into position, and at the exact spot I had planned, I laid it down. I had the lead but the entire bunch reacted and I could feel the heat of the chase. By less than a second, I crossed the line first and took the title.

The rush of winning is always special but, unlike most races, the national champs win is something you get to be proud of every time you pull on the jersey. I’m really proud of the way I raced; even when it was time to bring the fire, I kept my cool from start to finish. Especially in an Olympic year, I’ll be proud to wear the South African colours for the 2020 European season.