It’s official: Lance Armstrong has been stripped of his seven Tour de France titles and has been banned for life — even though he’s retired. UCI, the international cycling union, will not challenge the U.S. Anti-Doping Agency’s punishment, and the event will have no official champion from 1999-2005.

Says UCI president Pat McQuaid, long derided as an Armstrong apologist:

“Lance Armstrong has no place in cycling. . . He deserves to be forgotten.”

So there.

During his announcement today McQuaid also quoted John F. Kennedy, yedy, yedy, yedy.

Now cycling’s long dirty nightmare is over, and the cleansing and healing can begin. Right?

So this is the end of it then? Right?

Think again.

USADA boss Travis Tygart wants more, plenty more:

“For cycling to truly move forward and for the world to know what went on in cycling, it is essential that an independent and meaningful Truth and Reconciliation Commission be established so that the sport can fully unshackle itself from the past. There are many more details of doping that are hidden, many more doping doctors, and corrupt team directors and the omerta has not yet been fully broken.”

Tygart’s proxies in the media aren’t entirely ready to claim victory either. David Walsh of The Sunday Times, who’s been on the rampage against Armstrong for more than a decade, just Tweeted:

“This is a good day for clean cycling and it would get better if Hein Verbruggan and Pat McQuaid took the honourable course and resigned.”

(Point of information: Verbruggen is McQuaid’s predecessor at UCI.)

Bonnie D. Ford of ESPN.com, also on Twitter:

“Looks like UCI missed an opportunity to graciously admit it could have done better. #understatement”

What do these people want? Vengeance clearly isn’t enough. Nor is the rapid loss of sponsors, including Armstrong’s last corporate endorsement, from Oakley, which severed all ties on Monday.

There’s little left to take away from Armstrong, so the moorings of his “drug ring,” namely the institutions that allowed him to operate for years, must be dismantled, preferably with the absolutist tactics of USADA and all of those who claim Armstrong’s alleged deeds to have been nothing short of evil.

The old saw about destroying the sport in order to save it could be inserted here, for the tack advocated by Tygart would surely result in complete destruction. That’s clearly what he thinks needs to happen to make the sport open to “clean riders.” But the unaccountable zeal of this individual is what needs to be scrutinized as much as “dirty” athletes.

Since when did it become Tygart’s place to recommend how individual sports “unshackle” themselves from their past? His agency is responsible only for investigating American athletes for doping in certain Olympic sports, and nothing more.

USADA’s power to strip Armstrong of trophies won on foreign soil, including several titles won before that agency even existed, has rarely been called into question. That’s because so much “establishment” media has been reveling in schadenfreude since Armstrong decided not to appeal the USADA’s decision through its stacked arbitration process.

I’m more troubled by Tygart and USADA going forward than anything Armstrong might have done in the past. Because what happens from here is clearly emboldened by the events of the past month. In so many ways, the case against Armstrong hasn’t really been about Armstrong at all.

It’s been about making him an example for what the War on Steroids is all about — an extension of our fabulously wasteful, destructive War on Drugs.

The USADA, which gets most of its funding from the U.S. Office of Drug Control Policy, has a remarkable streak against athletes who dare to challenge it. In the 30-some-odd USADA cases that have been been appealed, only one has been won by an athlete in the arbitration process.

Yet despite the earnest efforts of a Valparaiso University law professor and his students working for free to defend her, sprinter LaTasha Jenkins’ career was destroyed before it ever really began. This makes for even more tragic and harrowing reading in light of the hysteria against Armstrong.

Where was the indignation from Walsh, Ford, et al, over what happened to Jenkins?

You don’t have to do much of a Google search to discover that they couldn’t be bothered. The compulsion to get to the “truth” about Armstrong has trumped all other considerations, even chronicling how the USADA, the World Anti-Doping Agency and the Court of Arbitration for Sport operate: Largely without due process and with little to no transparency.

I realize mine is a distinctly minority view. But whatever you think of Armstrong, I fear that the self-serving, self-righteousness of people like Travis Tygart and other anti-doping zealots is becoming a greater threat to fair play in sports than any athlete injecting himself with EPO ever has been.

I saw a Tweet this morning from a not-obscure sportswriter I know by acquaintance, moments after the news broke that Nike was terminating its endorsement contract with Lance Armstrong:

“Guilty.”

It was a retweet, with that single word as his response.

And the media self-righteousness took off from there, with some wondering when Armstrong might “come clean,” because he obviously should, and if Sally Jenkins, a columnist for The Washington Post who collaborated with the cyclist on two books, would end her silence since the USADA issued its “reasoned decision” last week.

Nike explained that the “overwhelming evidence” contained in the USADA documents led to its decision, although the sporting goods behemoth will continue to work with Livestrong, the non-profit organization Armstrong founded to advocate for cancer survivors.

Armstrong, however, will be stepping down as chairman of the board.

Well, of course he’s guilty if all this is happening. This is the final proof. What else could it be?

It’s stunning that journalists I know who are more jaded than I am, and who have long groused about Nike’s reputation for provocative commercials and promotional shamelessness, aren’t seeing this as the inevitable fallout of a once-admired athlete being brought into such disrepute.

First came the thundering pronouncements of “guilt,” without the USADA actually having to prove it. The public relations nightmare was the next thing to address, and Nike has now done that.

A week ago, Nike was standing by the seven-time Tour de France champion, who still faces the possibility of being stripped of his titles. Armstrong, the company said in its official statement, “misled Nike for more than a decade.” Oh, and “Nike does not condone the use of illegal performance enhancing drugs in any manner.”

Emphasis on the illegal.

Because we are firmly in the midst of a rather fanatical War on Drugs in Sports, we have to make things illegal that ought not to be. I’m not advocating the use of anabolic steroids in disdaining the heavy hand of the U.S. government, which funds most USADA operations. Since it does not have to go before an actual court of law and does not have to meet the highest burden of proof, this agency can prosecute alleged dopers in the court of public opinion, and much more effectively.

And because most of our mainstream sports media is complicit in adhering to the USADA’s zero tolerance zealotry, we will continue to have such juvenile, black-and-white conversation about the topic, if you can say there is a conversation at all.

Cheater. Fraud. No, “the greatest fraud in American sports.” Nah nah nah nah nah.

The hectoring and moralizing have been so one-sided from mainstream media outlets that it’s easy to forget that we really don’t know much about the deep science of these substances, how harmful to the body they may be, and how much (or little) they actually enhance athletics performance.

We don’t have the time, or the patience, to plumb into the nuances of this, or to ask other glaring questions. Such as: “Why wasn’t Armstrong caught earlier?”

The media establishment will have you believe this was due to a lack of advanced testing technology and a code of “omerta” among cyclists.The most offended journalists in all of this have been the least interested in any kind of critical examination of how the anti-doping authorities go about their business, and especially why the USADA has investigated allegations about a retired cyclist that in some cases predate its own existence.

But one journalist found plenty of time to dig into where Livestrong’s money goes.

There also is zero tolerance of pondering any possibility that there may be little that can be done to rid from cycling a widespread pattern of doping that existed long before Armstrong came along and that has reached far beyond his influence.

After writing what I thought would be my last rant about the Armstrong case last week, I came across “A Pharmacy on Wheels,” an exhaustive compilation of that sport’s history with doping, going back more than a century. It was written in 1998, just as Armstrong was hitting his stride and three years before the USADA was created.

If you think the USADA’s crusade is going to lead to “clean riding,” read this and think again.

To suggest Nike is cutting ties with Armstrong because of his alleged “guilt” is to misunderstand Nike. Armstrong “got caught,” and this presented a public relations problem.

At least one sportswriter I know did have the temerity to point out on Twitter that Nike realized it couldn’t a lot of Armstrong T-shirts anymore. Among other regalia.

So today happened. It’s all about the brand.

My previously expressed views (here and here) on the “investigation” of Lance Armstrong by the U.S. Anti-Doping Agency haven’t changed with this week’s release of its “Reasoned Decision,” a lengthy accumulation of its case against him.

Neither has the seemingly consensus view that the disgraced seven-time Tour de France champion (for now) is pure evil, and that the unaccountable agency that gets most of its funding from American taxpayers is inherently good in ridding the scourge of doping in sports by any means necessary.

But in the name of fairness, some of the most touted analysts of the “Reasoned Decision” — how about that for an official euphemism? — need to be included here, for as much as I think they are the essence of rhetorical unfairness, all in the name of rooting “cheaters” out of the world of athletics.

To repeat this disclaimer: I’m not a fan of Lance Armstrong and I’m not in favor of doping. But neither should it be criminalized, and it’s dismaying to see the mainstream media and the public equate steroid use with real crime: Lance Armstrong as the drug lord of cycling, a Pablo Escobar in tight shorts.

ESPN.com’s Bonnie D. Ford, one of the top cycling journalists in any country, is as well-versed in this case as anyone. Yet her take is loaded with USADA-style hyperbole:

“There is no other logical conclusion. After today, anyone who remains unconvinced simply doesn’t want to know.”

And yes, while Armstrong was far from the only cyclist alleged to have been doping, there’s this:

“Every participant in the sport-wide Ponzi scheme of that time was to some extent the product of a warped environment, including the champion. What sets Armstrong apart is that his competitive success, fueled by illicit means and synergized with his comeback from cancer, made it possible for him to transcend cycling and reap greater profits than anyone else.”

Ponzi scheme. Comparing a truly illegal practice against one that is not a crime is a common tactic in these arguments. Ford dismisses the lack of a positive test against Armstrong, saying these calls are “meritless” because some of the witnesses against him:

” . . . as a group over time used banned substances and methods on hundreds of occasions. They avoided being busted partly due to luck, partly due to strategic planning by doctors and trainers, and partly due to the warnings they got about testing itself.”

This raises the issue of why years-ago allegations, in a time of less sophisticated testing technology and easier methods of avoiding detection, should even be investigated now, and especially since the full timeline of the Armstrong case predates the creation of USADA. Argues former pro cyclist and current TV analyst John Eustice in one of the few major dissents on this matter:

“It’s a waste of time and money to prosecute seasoned pros – of any sport— for past doping offenses. It is already too late and the guys are damaged goods, having been initiated into doping culture at a young age. The only way to change the culture is to focus on developing, and most importantly, educating and closely monitoring young riders in clean, healthy athletic habits. As, ironically, we’ve successfully done in cycling over the past five years. It takes time, does not garner scintillating headlines, but is the only way.”

How far back should the backdating go? What parameters should USADA observe in probing doping? Why is public money being used to investigate individuals and organizations not accused of violating any federal, state or local laws?

Ford and other leading media observers are silent on those topics, suggesting that those who aren’t fully on board with them are walking around with blinders on. But this isn’t really the case; it’s not a matter of believing Armstrong anymore, but to fear where the War on Steroids is headed. The USADA has bagged its biggest catch without having to prove a single thing, which is something quite different than posting documents on a website and getting leading journalists to declare “case closed.”

The most appalling analysis I’ve read comes from Associated Press columnist John Leicester, who also fashions himself as a truth-teller in refuting diehard Armstrong fanatics:

“To worry about how the U.S. Anti-Doping Agency managed to bring down one of the biggest sports icons, whether U.S. taxpayer dollars should have been spent on schools rather than trawling through the past, and whether it even had the power to reduce such a giant to a speck, feels trivial in the bare light-bulb glare of USADA’s findings.

“The means, fair or foul, appear justified by the ends and by the hope — and it can be only hope at this point — that this is as low as any sport can sink and that cycling could maybe build a healthier future from here, if the cancer of doping is truly excised.”

Here’s the hot-white blind fanaticism of the anti-doping zealots, in two easy-to-digest paragraphs, laid totally bare. If USADA needs anyone to write its press releases in the future, here’s the man to do it.

This is a bristling, arrogant affront to more than Armstrong partisans, but also to anyone who values process, and its transparency, perhaps even more than the result. That’s not trivial at all.

Our culture has become so hysterical about doping in sports that scrutiny of those who have launched the War on Steroids is practically non-existent. Willfully so, as Leicester illustrates.

Anyone who does care about the sport of cycling and any other sport that comes under the province of USADA, the World Anti-Doping Agency or any other sports entity with the power to investigate, police and punish alleged dopers ought to care about the means by which this is done.

If more crackdowns on doping are to come — and the USADA now enjoys virtually unchallenged public goodwill and a free pass from the media — it’s imperative that the ends should never justify the means.

It’s the very principle that Armstrong is alleged to have flouted in the first place.

Outside magazine takes a long look at the world of women’s cycling, but it’s less about the sport and more a curation of wailing about why it doesn’t get the media attention its supporters believe it deserves.

No story along these lines would be complete without the obligatory academic feminist stock quote, in this case from Susan Douglas of the University of Michigan:

“Derek Jeter doesn’t have to pose in Playgirl to increase his visibility. There is a real double standard here where women are still prized first and foremost for their sexuality and how conventionally sexy and beautiful they are.”

The last time I checked, Derek Jeter is a baseball player, so I’m not sure what mentioning him here has do with cycling. Douglas’ complaint was that female cyclist Liz Hatch presumably had no choice but to pose suggestively for the male-oriented Maxim magazine in 2008.

Judging by the photo spread and accompanying video, it doesn’t appear that Hatch minds any of this at all, nor was there was a cultural gun pointed to her head during the process.

As I wrote in my recent book beyond “Beyond Title IX,” the agony aunts who bemoan the  so-called “sexualization” of female athletes are more than out of touch. They completely misunderstand a younger generation of women who revel in the fact that they are women, and who don’t have hangups about displaying traditional notions of femininity, beauty and sexuality.

But The Sisterhood and academics like Douglas, a baby boomer whose specialty is “analyzing media texts,” insist that we’re all being duped by the commercial media when we see the sultry poses of women like Hatch. Douglas’ latest book, “Enlightened Sexism,” claims that, as one endorser put it, women are not really being liberated by their liberation.

Obsessing over issues like this does nothing to raise the visibility of women’s cycling, or to examine it seriously as a sport. Outside writer Scott Rosenfield made some passing references to the business, marketing and promotion of women’s cycling before going off on a cultural tangent, leaving me disappointed for more than the reasons stated above.

As I watch the daily Tour de France coverage — and the breathtaking French scenery that’s the main reason I tune in — he gave me no better understanding of the distaff side of the sport. These women do deserve to have their story told, but he didn’t provide that.

Ross Tucker at The Science of Sport blog says there have been many villains in the world of sports science this year, but the ongoing, dragged-out doping case of 2010 Tour de France champion Alberto Contador is the clear and easy winner, and virtually everyone involved is to blame:

“As for what happens next, I’d bet strongly that Contador will be cleared. That’s partly because I have zero faith in the CAS and I have only revulsion for lawyers who play the system from inside. And those factors together, along with the mountain of technical information they have thrown at this, will, I strongly suspect, see the verdict go in favour of Contador. That will in turn have ramifications for anti-doping. For one thing, it will mean that they may as well take clenbuterol off the banned list, but it will also challenge the concept of strict liability. Whether it would create a legal precedent, I don’t know (the specific details of the case would determine this), but it certainly would leave a bad taste. It already has, thanks to the delays.”

The only other doping case before the Court of Arbitration for Sport that took longer was former American Tour champion Floyd Landis’ appeal of a positive testosterone test. At his hearing last month, Contador was in tears, pleading that the traces of the banned substance clenbuterol were due to eating contaminated meat.

And after that, he pedaled his way to an easy victory in Israel, as he has so many times before. He will learn in mid-January whether he joins Landis as the only other Tour winner to have his title stripped.