“I think it did fail clean athletes,” Bailey said.

The I.O.C. had the better part of two years to figure out this puzzle and to decide which Russians — if any — should compete in Pyeongchang. If clean sport were really a priority for the I.O.C., as it so often claims, the organization could have prioritized investigating the accusations that the Russians tampered with the drug testing in Sochi. It could have barred athletes and coaches early, and then slogged through the appeals.

But it didn’t. Instead, the I.O.C. took its time. And now, there’s no time left.

The chance was there to deliver a stern warning to any country that might consider systematic doping: Drug your athletes, or mess with the testing, and your flag will disappear from the Olympics.

Yes, a blanket ban might have hurt some clean Russian athletes, but it would also have been a motivation for future whistle-blowers to come forward. If clean athletes thought they might be barred from the Games for their compatriots’ transgressions, they would be more willing to speak out.

Instead, the Pyeongchang Olympics are left with this: half-measures like missing flags and unplayed anthems, and the full-throated boldness of Russia pushing the I.O.C. to make concessions.

At a news conference on Wednesday, the I.O.C. president, Thomas Bach, did not directly answer questions about the Russians’ recent appeals, or what would happen if they were successful. But he did drop hints of the policy that Olympic officials have held for years: The Olympics are their party, and they will invite the people they want. In this case, competitors from an unwelcome country make up a special category of guests.