Nearly three decades apart, two Olympic figure skaters performed the same breathtaking move — a backflip on ice — and received wildly different reactions. One was punished and pushed aside. The other was celebrated as a history-maker. The contrast says as much about the evolution of figure skating as it does about the sport’s long struggle with fairness, tradition and change.
In 1998, French skater Surya Bonaly stunned audiences at the Nagano Winter Olympics by landing a backflip on one blade — an astonishing feat of athleticism. It was also illegal. The International Skating Union banned backflips in 1977, citing safety concerns and the sport’s preference for jumps that land on a single skate edge, according to an article by Yahoo Sports. Bonaly did it anyway. did it anyway.
Her performance was not rewarded. Instead, she received deductions and finished far from the podium. The moment became iconic not because it won medals, but because it represented defiance — a skater refusing to conform to a system that many believed undervalued her power and originality.
Fast forward to the 2026 Winter Olympics in Milan. American star, Ilia Malinin, launches into the same move, lands cleanly and electrifies the arena. This time, the reaction is applause, headlines and praise for innovation.

What has changed?
The simplest answer is the rules. After nearly half a century, the ISU lifted its ban on backflips in 2024, removing the restriction from competition guidelines according to an article by Forbes. By the time Malinin competed, the move was legal again, even if it carried no technical point of value.
Malinin’s flip became the first legal Olympic backflip since 1976, transforming what was once a forbidden stunt into a celebrated highlight according to an article by Reuters .
But rules alone do not explain the emotional reaction many fans feel when comparing the two moments.
Bonaly’s backflip came during an era when figure skating emphasized elegance, classical lines and a narrow definition of artistry. Her style — powerful, explosive and rooted in gymnastics — clashed with those expectations. Critics have long argued that she was judged more harshly because she did not fit the sport’s traditional mold.
Some observers also point to deeper issues. Bonaly was a Black athlete in a sport historically dominated by white competitors, and debates about racial bias have resurfaced as her legacy gains renewed attention according to an article by AP News.
Meanwhile, modern figure skating increasingly rewards athletic difficulty. Quadruple jumps, once unimaginable, are now routine among elite men. The sport has shifted toward spectacle, speed and technical firepower — qualities that align perfectly with Malinin’s strengths.
Timing also matters. Bonaly’s flip was an act of rebellion at the end of a disappointing competition. Malinin’s came as part of a triumphant performance that helped secure team success. One was framed as rule-breaking; the other as history-making.
Yet the two moments are inseparable. Without Bonaly pushing boundaries, the move might never have been reconsidered. Today’s skaters perform in a landscape shaped by pioneers who were once penalized for daring to innovate.
There is an uncomfortable truth in that progression: sports often celebrate breakthroughs only after the risk has passed and the rebel has retired.
Figure skating likes to present itself as timeless — blades tracing elegant circles on ice, costumes shimmering under arena lights. It evolves like any other cultural institution, influenced by changing attitudes about safety, entertainment and inclusion.
Malinin deserves credit for his extraordinary athleticism. Landing a backflip on Olympic ice requires courage, control and precision few humans possess.
But Bonaly deserves something equally important: acknowledgment.
Her flip was not merely a stunt. It was a statement — one that forced the sport to confront its limits, even if it took decades to respond.
If the 2026 Olympics proved anything, it is that innovation rarely belongs to a single athlete. It belongs to a chain of competitors, each building on the risks of those who came before.
The applause echoing through Milan was not just for one skater in midair. It was also, whether recognized or not, for the woman who flipped first when the world told her not to.
AJ Pearman can be reached at [email protected].