What Golf Has Over Other Sports Can't Be Seen on Video

The year 2026 has been a special one in the sporting world, with Milan hosting the Winter Olympics, the New York Knicks winning the NBA title, and the FIFA World Cup unfolding in extraordinary excitement. But amid all the noisy celebrations, I noticed something peculiar: the sport I follow – golf – does not need officiating technology to create fairness. What golf truly has cannot be seen through a TV screen. Recall Roberto De Vicenzo at the 2026 Masters. He played a brilliant round, but because he signed an incorrect scorecard – writing 66 instead of 65 – he lost his chance at a playoff with Bob Goalby. No VAR, no referee pressing buttons, just a player's own mistake and golf's strict rules. Every crisis begins with a forgotten number in a financial report; here, that number was on the scorecard he signed himself. Then came Dustin Johnson at the 2026 U.S. Open: a television viewer called in to report that Johnson's ball had moved as he prepared to putt; officials reviewed the video and assessed a one-stroke penalty, forcing Johnson to play the rest of his round in uncertainty. And then Bryson DeChambeau at a recent Open Championship, penalized for slow play, sparking endless debate. But it is precisely from these incidents that golf reveals a different governance philosophy. In 2026, the R&A and USGA banned television viewers from calling in violations and tightened video review protocols. Golf does not stop to "check the monitor" like soccer does with VAR; putts are never revoked after they drop into the hole. A great champion is not someone who never falls, but someone who knows exactly when they are about to fall and prepares a controlled descent. That applies to De Vicenzo, who embraced his mistake and kept fighting; to Johnson, who still won despite a post-round penalty; and to DeChambeau, who learned to accept the consequences of his actions. From my years of following tournaments, I have noticed that this very "imperfection" builds trust among players and fans alike. The truth is, golf still uses technology, but in limited ways and only when necessary. ShotLink, launch monitors, and ball-tracking devices are all part of the modern sport. But in officiating, golf tries to keep humans in control. The trophy does not measure strength; it measures a collective's ability to endure chaos. And golf, though an individual sport, demands that endurance from every golfer. However, the original article's argument is not entirely solid. The Johnson case is exactly an example of golf once relying on viewer-supplied technology, with a ruling announced mid-round – something the author claims never happens. Moreover, golf still uses video to determine whether a ball moved, and ShotLink or launch monitors have become integral. So golf's "purity" is relative, not absolute. But that very relativity is its strength: golf never lets a match be suspended by a machine, and players always know the final result rests in their hands, even if minor injustices occur. In a vibrant sports year full of officiating technology, golf stands out as a thought-provoking exception. When tennis moves to electronic line calling, when soccer depends on VAR, golf still upholds the principle of player integrity. This is not conservatism but a conscious choice: technology serves humans, not replaces them. I believe golf is heading the right way by resisting the encroachment of officiating technology. In a sporting world increasingly dominated by VAR and Hawk-Eye, golf can become a "brand" of self-respect and humanity. The question is whether other sports will have the courage to follow, or will they continue to let machines decide the fate of matches?