Could Speedrunning Be Legally Classified as an Esports Discipline?

Defining Esports: A Global Legal Perspective

There is no single worldwide definition of “esports,” but several jurisdictions and organizations have formalized their own criteria. Generally, esports (short for electronic sports) refers to organized video game competitions, often between multiple players or teams, for an audience and with an element of skill-based rivalry. For example, French law defines esports as

“video game competitions on a video game, of at least two players or teams of players for a score or a victory”.

This definition, enacted in France’s 2016 Digital Republic Act, was part of a legal recognition that separated esports from gambling and provided a framework for player contracts and events. Notably, the French definition requires at least two participants competing, implicitly excluding purely solo endeavors.

South Korea offers a similar take in its Act on the Promotion of Esports, describing “e-sports” as games

“in which players compete with one another for a score or for victory”

This wording also centers on competition among players.

China, one of the earliest adopters, officially recognized esports as a sport in 2003 by adding it to the list of approved sports under the national sports administration.

Other countries have followed: for instance, South Korea formally acknowledged esports as a sport in 2000 (establishing the Korean Esports Association to govern it), and more recently, India’s government announced in late 2022 that esports would be considered part of multi-sport events under the purview of the sports ministry.

Despite growing official recognition, esports remains a somewhat fluid concept. The European Parliament has debated esports’ status without issuing a binding definition, and in the United States there’s no federal legal definition of esports (though U.S. immigration authorities have accepted professional gamers as “athletes” eligible for P-1 visas). Overall, the common thread in legal and regulatory descriptions is organized competitive play of video games, usually multiplayer and skill-based, often with spectators. This baseline will guide our analysis of speedrunning’s fit.

Does Speedrunning Fit the Esports Framework?

Speedrunning at first glance is an unusual case: it typically involves a single player trying to finish a game or level as fast as possible, often in a single-player game environment. There may not be direct, simultaneous competition between players as in a traditional match.

However, the competitive element comes from the existence of leaderboards and races – players are constantly trying to beat each other’s times. In this sense, speedrunning can be analogous to track and field time trials or competitive skiing, where athletes compete for the best time, not necessarily by physical contact but by outperforming others’ recorded times. Proponents argue that as long as there is a community comparing results and striving for top performance, the competition criterion is met.

“Just like a race in a track meet is a sport, this is similar… Players compete against their own best time and against other players’ times, even though they might not be playing at the same exact time,”

esports journalist Jessica Scharnagle notes.

From a legal standpoint, the key question is whether speedrunning involves “players competing with one another for a score or victory.” If a speedrun event or context has at least two participants aiming to win (e.g. the fastest time wins a prize or title), it arguably satisfies definitions like France’s and Korea’s.

Indeed, many speedrunning competitions do feature multiple runners – for example, online leaderboards on Speedrun.com or community tournaments where runners race in parallel streams. As esports commentator Mitch Reames points out, the core components are present: “There is competition, practice, dedication and pure effort” in speedrunning, even if the competitors aren’t always on the stage at the same moment. Importantly, once a second person attempts the same speed challenge, a competitive esport-like scenario emerges.

On the other hand, skeptics highlight what speedrunning lacks relative to classic esports. There is no direct PvP interaction – your performance doesn’t actively hinder or alter the opponent’s run (aside from psychological pressure). One analyst argues that

“the presence of competition alone is not enough to qualify an activity as a sport… the pure act of speedrunning is missing elements that elevate a competitive endeavor to a sport or esport”.

Under this view, speedrunning might be more akin to a challenge or a record-setting activity than an organized sport, especially if done in isolation without formal competition rules. The requirement in some legal definitions for organized competition and multiple participants could exclude a lone runner simply attempting a personal best with no intent to compete. However, most speedrunners do compare their times to world records or other players – a fact that blurs the line between solo play and competition.

In practice, the industry is increasingly inclusive in classifying speedrunning as part of esports. Esports Insider observes that unconventional formats like speedrunning are “increasingly recognized as esports,” as players race to complete game content in the shortest time. Notably, even the International Olympic Committee (IOC) has acknowledged competitive video gaming as a sporting activity in principle, and while the IOC’s focus has been on multiplayer titles, the principle could extend to time-based competitions.

Thus, if one adopts a broad understanding of esports as any organized competitive gaming, speedrunning fits the bill. But if a stricter definition is used – requiring real-time player versus player interaction or formal league structures – speedrunning’s inclusion is less clear-cut. Legally, most frameworks do not explicitly exclude time-based competitions, so there is room to argue that speedrunning could be classified as an esports discipline, provided it is organized as a competition among multiple runners.

Competitive Structure: Speedrunning vs. Traditional Esports

One major difference between speedrunning and established esports like MOBAs (e.g. League of Legends) or FPS games (Counter-Strike, Valorant) lies in structure and format. Traditional esports disciplines typically have well-defined match formats (team vs team or 1v1), scheduled fixtures, and tournaments or leagues with elimination brackets. They often culminate in championship events and have governing rules enforced by leagues or publishers. Speedrunning, by contrast, has been historically community-driven and decentralized. Key characteristics of speedrunning’s structure include:

• Asynchronous Competition: Speedrunners often compete by improving times on their own schedule. While head-to-head races do occur, it’s common that competitors are attempting records independently and only comparing results on a leaderboard. This is akin to comparing high scores or fastest laps rather than directly interacting in-game. As Mitch Reames analogized, other sports have precedents for this: in Olympic skiing or track cycling time trials, athletes take turns and victory is determined by timing.
• Lack of Formal League System: There is no global governing body or season-based league for “professional speedrunning.” Established esports have structures like franchised leagues or international majors. Speedrunning events tend to be one-off community tournaments or exhibition events. Games Done Quick (GDQ), the most famous speedrunning event, is a charity marathon rather than a competition – runners perform showcase runs back-to-back instead of facing off. Some smaller organizations (e.g. Global Speedrun Association and online race organizers like SpeedGaming) have attempted to create tournament circuits for speedruns, but these are relatively recent and not yet on the scale of mainstream esports.
• Self-Policing Rules: In esports like MOBAs/FPS, rules of play, anti-cheat measures, and officiating are formally in place. Speedrunning communities develop their own rulesets for what counts as a valid run (allowable glitches, timing methods, etc.) on a per-game basis. There is no universal rulebook – each game’s community on Speedrun.com has moderators who verify runs and adjudicate disputes. This grassroots governance works for a hobbyist scene, but if speedrunning were to become an official esport, more standardized rules and neutral referees might be needed to ensure fair competition across events. The integrity challenges are real: verifying that a record run is legitimate can be complex (cases of cheating by splicing videos or using illicit tools have occurred, undermining trust). Currently, the “honor system” and community detectives serve as the watchdogs against fraud, but a professionalized speedrunning circuit would likely require robust anti-cheat protocols similar to other esports.

Despite these differences, speedrunning is inching closer to traditional esports formats in some respects. Races where two or more runners compete simultaneously to beat a game (or a segment) are increasingly popular on streaming platforms. Tournaments with group stages and brackets have been organized for certain games – for example, a recent Super Mario 64 120-Star speedrun tournament featured a multi-week bracket and prize pool.

Still, the solitary nature of speedrunning remains “paradoxically” distinct: as one commentator noted,

“speedruns are non-interactive – your strategy doesn’t really change even with another human racer in the picture. All you need is yourself and the game”

There is no equivalent of adapting to an opponent’s tactics in real-time, which is a hallmark of many esports (strategy shifts, mind games, etc.). This means speedrunning competitions may lack some of the dynamic back-and-forth that make spectating other esports compelling. Organizers must instead highlight the thrill of execution, routing strategy, and the race against the clock to create excitement for viewers.

Prize Pools and Economic Considerations

Another area of contrast is prize distribution and economics. Top-tier esports titles today boast massive prize pools and player salaries, supported by game publishers, sponsors, media rights, and team franchises. For instance, the prize pool of Dota 2’s “The International” tournament can reach tens of millions of dollars. In speedrunning, the financial stakes are comparatively modest. Many speedrun events historically offered no prize money at all (GDQ awards prestige for showcasing runs, but all donations go to charity).

When prizes exist, they are often community-funded or nominal in size. It’s not uncommon to see speedrunning tournaments with total prize pools in the low hundreds of dollars. As an illustration, a recent online speedrun competition distributed a grand total of USD 30 among its winners. Even somewhat larger tournaments organized around popular games rarely exceed a few thousand dollars in prizes. These sums are orders of magnitude smaller than professional esports events.

The economic model for speedrunners has traditionally been closer to content creation than competitive sport. Skilled runners earn income via streaming (Twitch subscriptions, donations, sponsorships) or YouTube content, rather than tournament winnings. Success is measured not only by records but by one’s ability to entertain an audience during the countless practice runs. The introduction of significant prize money could change this dynamic. Some commentators predict that as speedrunning “inevitably” moves toward prize pool competitions and leagues, the scene will shift its incentive structure.

If winning cash becomes a primary goal, runners might focus more on competition performance than on streaming persona – similar to how some pro fighting game players excel in tournaments without having large online followings. This could open the door for participants who aren’t charismatic streamers to gain recognition purely through competitive results.

However, with money on the line, the community may also experience growing pains. The collaborative ethos of speedrunning (where runners freely share strategies and glitches in forums) might erode if keeping a discovery secret could confer a competitive edge in a prize event. This “information hiding” is common in pro esports or traditional sports – surprise tactics are part of the game – but it would mark a cultural shift for speedrunners who traditionally operate in a open knowledge environment.

There is also the risk of a “rich get richer” scenario: those who can dedicate full-time hours to grinding a game (often supported by stream income) have an advantage in a hobby that requires extensive practice. Without developer intervention to level the playing field (like patching a game to reset the meta, which happens in multiplayer esports), speedrunning might see the same names dominate, as they can pour thousands of hours into a single title.

Legally, the introduction of prize money can trigger regulatory scrutiny. Some jurisdictions treat certain prize competitions as potential gambling or “public lotteries” if participants pay entry fees and outcomes are uncertain. In fact, prior to 2016, France’s strict gambling laws made it risky to organize video game tournaments with entry fees and prizes, since they could be seen as unlicensed lotteries.

The Digital Republic Act addressed this by explicitly exempting approved esports contests from the gambling definition, under conditions such as the players being physically present (LAN events) and prize pools being fully paid out. If speedrunning competitions evolve to charge entry fees or offer significant prizes, organizers would need to ensure they comply with such regulations. Recognizing speedrunning under the esports umbrella could actually help, as it might make these events eligible for the same legal exemptions given to esports tournaments in countries like France.

Developer Involvement and Intellectual Property Issues

In established esports, game publishers play a pivotal role: they often organize the official leagues (e.g. Riot Games runs the League of Legends Championship Series), or at least license and sanction third-party tournaments. Publishers have a vested interest in how their games are used competitively – for promoting the game, ensuring fair play, and protecting their intellectual property (IP) rights. This involvement ranges from active support and funding to imposing rules (for example, forbidding certain mods or requiring use of specific tournament servers). Speedrunning, on the other hand, grew largely without direct publisher oversight. It’s a fan-driven subculture that sometimes operates in ways only tangentially approved by game developers. This dynamic raises unique legal and IP considerations:

• Use of Game Content: Speedrunning inherently involves using a game’s software and assets to compete. In general, playing a game and even streaming it is allowed by copyright law under the game’s license (publishers typically permit gameplay streaming and videos as long as it’s not done in a way that violates their terms). Most publishers have been permissive of speedrunning – seeing it as free publicity and community engagement. However, if speedrunning were to become a professional esport, formal agreements might be needed. A developer could require tournament organizers to obtain a license or abide by certain conditions (much as some companies mandate for large esports events using their game).
• Broadcast rights and monetization of events featuring the game are ultimately under the control of the IP owner. To date, we haven’t seen publishers demand royalties or fees from speedrun marathons, but those events have been charitable and non-adversarial. The calculus might change if there is significant profit or sponsorship in play.
• Game Modifications and Fan Content: A distinctive aspect of speedrunning is the use of glitches and even fan-made modifications to create new challenges. Communities often develop custom ROM hacks or randomizer versions of games (e.g., a The Legend of Zelda: A Link to the Past randomizer that shuffles item locations) to keep speedrunning fresh. These fan mods exist in a legal gray area – technically they involve unauthorized derivative works or circumvention of game code, which a publisher could shut down. If a major publisher decided to officially support speedrunning, they might crack down on these unofficial versions to protect their IP or steer competition toward the unmodified game. An example from the esports world illustrates this tension: when Nintendo began sponsoring official Super Smash Bros. tournaments, it strongly signaled disapproval of Project M (a community-created mod of Smash Bros. Brawl) – even without direct lawsuits, the pressure led tournament organizers to drop the mod from events. By analogy, a company like Nintendo funding a speedrun league may not look kindly on a popular ROMhack or randomizer that fans are racing, viewing it as unsanctioned use of their IP and a competitor to their own content. This could “stunt” those fan-driven sub-scenes despite their popularity.
• Glitches and Exploits: Speedrunning often involves exploiting bugs or glitches in games to achieve faster times. While using glitches is not illegal, it can conflict with how developers want their game to be presented. In a formal esports setting, publishers sometimes enforce rules against certain exploits for fairness. For speedrunning, banning glitches would fundamentally alter the nature of the competition (imagine an “any%” run where suddenly clipping through walls is disallowed – it wouldn’t fly with the community). If developers take a direct hand in regulating speedrun competitions, there may be debates over what techniques are “fair game.” Currently, those decisions are left to community consensus (with categories like glitchless vs. any%). A developer’s involvement might standardize rules across all events, but could also strip away some creative approaches that define speedrunning. There’s also the extreme case of tool-assisted speedruns (TAS) – which use external software to play a game perfectly. TAS runs are usually kept separate as a form of entertainment/analysis, not competition, because they’re essentially computers playing. No one expects TAS to count as a legitimate esports performance (since it’s not human skill), but it’s worth noting that verifying what is tool-assisted vs. human in border cases can be challenging. As seen in a 2022 cheating incident, a runner at a GDQ marathon was found to have submitted a pre-recorded, segmented run instead of a live performance. The community responded by banning the runner, showing a self-regulatory approach to preserve integrity. In a professionalized context, organizers might implement stricter real-time monitoring or forensic video analysis to detect such fraud – effectively adopting anti-cheat measures akin to those used in online multiplayer esports.

In summary, while developer involvement could lend legitimacy and resources to speedrunning as an esport, it may come at the cost of some creative freedom. Legally, publishers are within their rights to shape any competitive use of their games. Speedrunning events would likely need at least informal blessing from the game owners, especially if they grow in size. We could also see contracts or licenses covering speedrun tournaments, similar to how major esports events operate.

For instance, a speedrunning tournament might require a license agreement that covers broadcast rights, use of trademarks, and compliance with publisher rules (no use of unauthorized game versions, etc.). So far, no major legal clashes have occurred between speedrunners and developers – a testament to the community-friendly stance many studios have taken. But that detente could be tested if speedrunning moves further into the esports mainstream and money making territory.

Contracts and Player Status in Speedrunning

One hallmark of an established esport is the professional status of its players. Top esports athletes are often employed by teams or organizations, sign endorsement deals, and have contracts delineating their compensation, rights, and responsibilities. This raises the question: if speedrunning becomes an esports discipline, what would the player arrangements look like, and what legal considerations follow?

Currently, the notion of a “speedrunner as an employee” is rare. Most speedrunners are hobbyists or independent streamers. A few have been signed to esports organizations, but usually in a content creator role. (Notably, in 2021 the esports org NRG signed a group of top speedrunners – an indication that teams see value in speedrunning talent, even absent a formal league.) Without a circuit of tournaments, there isn’t a clear “season” or team competition structure for which to hire a speedrunning roster.

If that changes – say, if there were a league of speedrunning races or a World Cup of speedrunning – players might indeed sign on with teams who sponsor their training and travel in exchange for a share of winnings or brand representation.

Different jurisdictions have begun to adapt labor laws to esports players, and those rules would presumably apply to speedrunners if they are classified as esports competitors. France provides a leading example: the 2016 law that recognized esports also created a new employment contract category for professional players. It allowed fixed-term contracts (CDDs) for esports players with a minimum duration of 12 months and maximum of 5 years, an exception to the normal French labor code limits. It also requires organizations to obtain accreditation from the government to field players under these contracts.

This framework was designed with team esports in mind, but it would likely encompass any video game competition fitting the legal definition. A speedrunner based in France who is hired by an organization to compete could fall under these provisions – provided the competitions they engage in meet the criteria of esports (again highlighting the importance of having at least two participants, per the legal definition). If a speedrunning event is purely single-player (i.e., one person attempting a record for an audience), it might not qualify as an “esports competition” for the purpose of such contracts. But most likely, any scenario where a speedrunner is chasing a leaderboard or racing others would be covered.

Beyond France, other countries are also grappling with esports employment issues. South Korea has a well-developed esports scene with player unions and standard player contract forms recommended by the governmennt. In the U.S., esports players typically sign contracts as either employees or independent contractors of teams; those contracts are subject to general employment law (and increasingly to scrutiny regarding things like overtime, minors in competition, etc.). A speedrunner joining a U.S.-based esports team would negotiate an agreement much like any streamer or pro gamer, covering payment, content obligations, and possibly revenue sharing from any tournament prizes. One legal question is whether speedrunners, if not part of a team, could be considered professional athletes individually.

For instance, could a star speedrunner qualify for a U.S. P-1A athlete visa to attend a competition? Historically, P-1 visas have been granted to esports players competing in recognized leagues or tournaments of international standing. If speedrunning gains a reputation as an esport with its own major competitions, it’s conceivable that top runners could meet the threshold – but this remains untested waters.

Another consideration is prize money contracts and taxation. In traditional esports tournaments, players (or their teams) sign tournament participation agreements that cover prize payout terms, rights to broadcast footage, conduct codes, etc. Speedrunning competitions would need similar legal infrastructure.

For example, if a speedrun event offers a prize pool, rules must clarify how timing disputes or tie-breakers are resolved, what happens in case of a game-breaking bug, and so on. Additionally, players might have to sign waivers or agreements about behavior (cheating, use of prohibited tools, etc.). As speedrunning is not head-to-head, you could imagine contractual clauses requiring runners to stream their gameplay live or submit to video review to verify authenticity of runs – a parallel to anti-cheating clauses in esports.

From a labor perspective, if speedrunning stays mostly grassroots, most runners will continue as volunteers or semi-professionals earning through streaming. But if it professionalizes, issues like working hours, health, and compensation could enter the conversation. Esports athletes face concerns around repetitive strain injuries, mental health, and burnout. Speedrunners similarly grind games for thousands of attempts – marathon practice sessions can lead to health issues or fatigue. Traditional sports and now many esports have regulations or at least awareness around player well-being. Any move to bring speedrunning under an official esports umbrella might also bring expectations of safeguarding players (for instance, not pushing 20-hour stream days, providing break schedules in marathon events, etc.).

Finally, it’s worth noting the recent legal trend of courts and agencies reclassifying certain esports relationships. In one French case, a court requalified an esports player’s contractor agreement as an employment contract, granting the player employee protections. This indicates that where a player is effectively working under a team’s direction and for remuneration, the law may treat them as an employee regardless of contract wording. By extension, if speedrunners start getting paid by organizations to compete or perform, those orgs must be mindful of local labor laws (minimum wage, benefits, contract length limits, etc.). The amateur-to-professional transition can be legally tricky, and speedrunning could face those growing pains as it formalizes.

Conclusion and Outlook

Speedrunning occupies a fascinating intersection between personal challenge and competitive sport. Legally classifying it as an esports discipline is not straightforward, but it is increasingly plausible. Many global definitions of esports emphasize competition between players for a goal or score – a criterion speedrunning can meet when structured as a contest of fastest completion time. Industry trends and expert commentary suggest a broadening view of what counts as an esport, now encompassing races against the clock and PvE competitions alongside the classic head-to-head games.

That said, there are practical adjustments needed for speedrunning to fully integrate into the esports ecosystem. Its competition format is unorthodox, but not without analogies in traditional sports (think of timed sports like track, skiing, or even competitive target shooting where athletes compete indirectly). Those sports have long been accepted as legitimate – the law did not need to see two sprinters bumping elbows to call sprinting a sport, and similarly it need not require direct interaction to call speedrunning an esport. As one writer quipped,

“If even one other person takes a shot, the competition is there to call it an esport”.

The more significant hurdles lie in the surrounding ecosystem: developing standardized rules, anti-cheat measures, and event structures that can support fair, exciting competition at scale. With larger stakes will come the need for more formal governance – possibly an international speedrunning federation or integration into existing esports federations. Intellectual property permissions will also be crucial: organizers should seek at least tacit approval from game developers, and be prepared to pivot if a publisher imposes restrictions (for example, disallowing modded content in officially recognized contests). The community’s current collaborative spirit could be tested by the pressures of professionalism, but other grassroots scenes (such as fighting games) have managed to grow without losing their identity entirely.

In legal terms, nothing outright prevents speedrunning from being considered an esport. If anything, achieving that status could confer benefits: clearer regulatory support (as seen in countries that exempt esports from gambling laws or offer player visa paths), potential recognition by sports bodies, and access to institutional funding or sponsorship that flows into esports. We might see speedrunners obtaining athlete visas to compete internationally, or claiming the protections of esports labor laws in places like France. We may also see lawyers draft new types of contracts tailored to individual esports competitors who aren’t on team rosters – a situation speedrunners would typify.

Ultimately, whether speedrunning should be classified as an esports discipline is as much a cultural question as a legal one. Some purists in the community feel it’s a self-motivated art that doesn’t need the label of esports or the trappings of commercialization. Others embrace the idea, noting that competition and skill are at the heart of both endeavors.

From a legal perspective, the prudent view is that speedrunning can fit into the esports framework with minimal doctrinal change – it simply requires that we recognize competition comes in many forms. As global regulators and industry stakeholders continue to refine what esports means, speedrunning is poised to be a compelling test case. If esports truly “steps up its game” to include all varieties of competitive gaming, don’t be surprised when the next major esports event features a speedrun race as a headline attraction – backed by both the community and the law.