When proceedings began in Lille's stately redbrick courthouse 10 days ago, judge Daniel Delegrove kicked off the so-called Festina trial anticipating a tough fight.

For years, doping in cycling has been facilitated by a vow of silence, a steadfast denial that anything was amiss within the peloton. More of the same stubborn protests were expected.

Amazingly, rather than prompting mantras of innocence, the trial has acted as a confessional for many within the sport. Just two days into the trial, Frenchmen Richard Virenque and Pascal Herve finally cracked after two years of pleading their innocence.

"We were doped," admitted the Tour de France stars. An admission which was later echoed by former world champions Luc Leblanc and Laurent Brochard, while non-Festina riders Thomas Davy and Erwan Mentheour also followed suit and declared their guilt.

A picture of widespread doping has been painted, but it is not the riders who are likely to be most harshly judged when the trial ends next week. Many of the witnesses called to the stand have fingered cycling's world governing body, the UCI, as being passively tolerant of the culture which had evolved over the years.

Indeed, its president Hein Verbruggen was grilled for five hours by Delegrove on Tuesday, the judge later criticising the governing body for spending a "ridiculously small" amount of money on doping controls.

He also expressed astonishment that the UCI had not employed hair-strand testing, one of the best ways of determining drug use.

Considering the inadequate controls which facilitated the events of 1998, Verbruggen's assertion that the UCI "did not feel responsible if a rider is doping, or a soigneur gives him drugs", may well return to haunt him when the trial ends. Granted, the governing body has implemented several new anti-doping measures since the Tour de France imploded two years ago.

However, Verbruggen's refusal to acknowledge the warnings expressed a decade ago by riders such as Gilles Delion and Paul Kimmage is likely to be considered unfavourably when Delgrove reaches his verdict.

It is, however, not all doom and gloom; the trial, and the unsavoury events which preceded it offer the best catalysts for change within the sport, the belated honesty of Virenque, Leblanc et al hopefully heralding a change in attitude.

Breaking the vow of silence is the first step to eliminating the problem. But for cycling's sake, the impetus must continue long after the time when the courthouse at the Avenue du Peuple Belge falls silent.