Fifty-four horses ran at Ascot yesterday and it is likely that all of them were trying to do their best, even if their connections knew that best would not be good enough. And, as far as punters are concerned, that is the bottom line; that they get a fair run for their money. Who actually oversees the mechanism of policing the sport is of less importance to the average racegoer than the fact that there is one in place.

Since a group of wealthy aristocrats with an interest in racing founded the Jockey Club – something of a misnomer, actually, as the last people to be invited to join would be jockeys – during the 1750s, the Club have been in charge of the sport's integrity. They have endured a turbulent week in the wake of the Panorama programme's exposé of alleged corruption. Their security chief has been forced to resign and an imminent review, conducted by the Club and racing administration's other body, the British Horseracing Board, has been announced of regulatory and security work. Close to the Jockey Club's 250th anniversary, the days of the institution may be numbered.

Human nature being what it is, there will always be skulduggery, or attempts at it, where the opportunity to make large sums of money presents itself. Racing, and particularly betting, is a perfect milieu, as the Jockey Club discovered early. Their first resolution, passed in 1758, was to require riders to weigh in after a race, and regulations grew ever tighter, particularly during the era of the two great 19th-century Turf reformers, Lord George Bentinck and Admiral Henry Rous.

The present regime has been much maligned lately over both its will and expertise where corruption is concerned, and over potential conflicts of interest.

In the latter area there is certainly room for improvement. It has always been accepted within the sport that multiple hats are worn, but to the outsider they may not fit well. It may not be desirable, for example, that the organisation responsible for regulation are also, through a subsidiary, the major racecourse owners in Britain; that the man next in line to become senior steward is also chairman of the race planning committee; or that stewards who sit in judgement on trainers know them socially or are even related. Most are honourable men but, even if corrup-tion is too strong a word, the notion of conflict of interest is unavoidable.

But our punter is less concerned with politics, policies and power-broking ego trips than the eradication of the opportunity for cheating. In this area, on a day-to-day basis, the Jockey Club have done, and are doing, quite a lot.

Before a race, horses' identities are protected by passports and microchips. Security at racecourse stables means that only the horses' immediate attendants are allowed on the premises. Not even owners can visit, and close-circuit cameras check on comings and goings in the stable area.

Vets and security personnel monitor the horses' wellbeing and fitness for the task at hand. After the race, dope-testing is stringent, with the winner and any beaten favourite routinely tested, plus others selected at random. Trainers must give explanations for poor runs and report any medical problems, such as bleeding, choking or lameness.

During the race, punters have been aided by the introduction of the photo-finish since 1947, patrol cameras since 1960 and starting stalls, to ensure as even a break as possible, since 1965.

And if the Jockey Club have been subject to trial by media, so are just about every horse and jockey competing. Increased TV coverage, through SIS and the two dedicated racing channels, means that races are no longer watched only by the stewards and those at the track, and cheating is harder to get away with.

With more information available, stewards are more aware and, in the modern era, a number of stipendiary stewards – their advisors – are former jockeys, who should be wise to tricks and wiles.

But for all the scrutiny and care taken before, after and during a race, mischief does occur. Doping or fiddling to win are comparative rarities, despite the gleeful tale of a well-engineered coup, of a horse handicapped so it cannot lose. And punters can read the formbook as well as anyone and can act accordingly, though handicap snips are beaten as often as not.

It is the certain loser that is the money-spinner, most often for bookmakers and increasingly for those who use betting exchanges. And the one most likely to be able to engineer this sort of stroke is the jockey. But though there is probably not a jockey riding in Britain today who would not give a horse an "easy", whether for educational or handicapping purposes, if asked, and indeed the system often dictates such tinkering with the rules, very few would actually stop one that could win.

The jockey's reputation precedes him, though, and has done through history – Fred Archer was not known as the Tin Man for his love of Cornish mines. Racing authorities abroad are aware of the temptations and pitfalls, and access to and from weighing rooms is much stricter. In the Far East, where betting turnover makes that in Britain look like the church collection, mobile phones are banned and the reinsmen are locked away from the public while meetings are in progress to limit the scope for outside tampering.

At Ascot yesterday there was a new CCTV camera at the door of the weighing room. Although the effort of Panorama was, in the words of trainer John Dunlop at the Berkshire course, "bigoted, biased, banal and boring", both Jockey Club and jockeys may be facing a sea change.