The boxing world has a serious and persistent problem: performance-enhancing drugs. The latest scandal involves yet another Eddy Reynoso-trained fighter, Jaime Munguía, who tested positive for exogenous testosterone metabolites in his post-fight urinalysis following his May 4 victory over Bruno Surace. If his B sample also returns positive, the win will likely be overturned to a no-contest.

A representative for Munguía confirmed that they have received correspondence from the Voluntary Anti-Doping Association (VADA) and plan to request the opening and testing of the B sample. Munguía has ten days to initiate this request for a specific test targeting the exogenous origin of the testosterone metabolites.

Should the B sample confirm the initial result, Munguía—though a first-time offender—faces a suspension ranging from six months to a year. However, the more pressing concern is not whether Munguía will face consequences, but whether he will be the last offender to emerge from Reynoso’s camp. The list of past fighters testing positive while under Reynoso includes Canelo Álvarez, Óscar Valdez, and Julio César Martínez. Others, like Ryan Garcia and Luis Nery, tested positive after leaving his tutelage but remain linked by their time in the same gym.

Victor Conte, a known anti-doping advocate and former figure in the doping world, tweeted recently to remind the public of a statement he made in a 2011 ESPN interview:

“We live in a performance-enhanced society… I believe that athletes are victims of corrupt Olympic and professional anti-doping systems. This has created a use-or-lose mentality. If athletes know that their competitors are using drugs and easily circumventing the inept testing in place, then they believe they have no choice except to use drugs. The testing can be vastly improved if the governing bodies truly have a genuine desire to catch athletes cheating.”

Conte continued, noting that while testing has improved over the last 15 years, the system remains compromised by weak enforcement and minimal penalties.

Indeed, testing alone is not enough. The current sanctioning framework provides little deterrence. A suspension of six months to a year and a modest fine—as seen with Ryan Garcia—is not sufficient to dissuade fighters from rolling the dice on cheating. Many athletes are willing to risk detection, hoping either not to get caught or to weather the public backlash with a prepared denial.

Case in point: Jaime Munguía’s response was predictable.

“Throughout my boxing career, I have undergone numerous anti-doping tests and have never tested positive,” he said. “I was tested twice during this training camp, and both results came back negative, which is why receiving this notification of an adverse finding has been a complete surprise to me. Several experts have explained that there are multiple ways contamination can occur, and I am fully willing to undergo any retroactive, current, or future testing to demonstrate that I have always been a clean athlete. I will not make any further comments on this matter until the process is concluded with the results of the B sample.”

This kind of statement has become formulaic—an almost copy-paste defense by athletes caught using banned substances. But a failed test is not a maybe. The test is done. The substance was there. In the absence of compelling evidence to the contrary, the fighter is guilty.

Unfortunately, there seems to be little appetite for real reform among sanctioning bodies and athletic commissions. Drug cheating is treated as a nuisance, not a crisis. Until that changes, the incentives remain perverse: cheat and win, and if caught, apologize and sit out for a few months.

The solution is clear. Boxing needs a stronger deterrent. That starts with harsher penalties: significantly stiffer fines and longer suspensions.