Mal Fletcher examines the value of the modern Olympics movement in light of it being an extension of the market economy

Elite-level sporting contests were viewed not simply as opportunities to see who could run fastest or leap highest. They were seen as celebrations of great human virtues, such as participation with honour, the pursuit of excellence, a commitment to fairness and grace in defeat.

Philosophers lectured and wrote about the glories of sport. Religious books also cited life lessons drawn from the sporting track or arena.

Though doubtless even classical Greece had its Olympic superstars, the overriding interest was not simply in seeing athletes achieve individual glory. The sporting carnival represented a celebration of the glories of competition itself.

All this seems somewhat quaint by today's standards. The Olympics movement - or machine - still talks the talk of virtue, but in ever more overt ways, it walks the walk of profit and indulgence.

The Olympic experience is now arguably more about the auction process and the building of infrastructure to host the event than the sporting festival itself.

The Games themselves last just a fraction of the time taken up by the global auction that precedes them.

Indeed, were we to calculate the media space devoted to Olympic politics and management - and its various scandals - we would probably find that it far outweighs the attention given to the Games themselves. This is despite the fact that more journalists, editors, producers and media machinery jostle for space at the Olympics than at any other global event.

The Olympics are not, of course, the only branch of international sport to be impacted by the growing reach of commercialism. Ever since the introduction of professional sports in various national competitions, games of one kind or another have gradually morphed into market commodities.

At the top-tier level, sporting competitions have been transformed from amateur pursuits, where the love of the game is all, into high-powered industries. Athletes are now but one part of a complex machine made up of event managers, player representatives and sports psychologists.

In some sports, athletes have become such a small part of the overall equation that they require ever more strident unions to represent their interests.

Where the love of the game was once the primary motivation for competing, this is now just one of many factors.

The money-spinners will argue, with some justification, that athletes deserve to be supported financially. They should be rewarded for the application of their talents and hard work as much as any other member of society.

In preparation to compete, they also need quality training facilities and the opportunity to train and develop without being distracted by the need to find a livelihood elsewhere.

This is quite right, at least to a point. The fact is that financial support for athletes and their facilities represents just a fraction of the money generated in and around a modern Olympiad.