In recent discussions among college sports leaders, a striking optimism emerges—an unwavering belief that college athletics are on an unstoppable trajectory of financial growth. Leaders from major conferences boldly claim that revenues have “never been greater,” while simultaneously grappling with mounting expenses and the long-term sustainability of current models. However, this narrative masks a dangerous oversight: the illusion that a lucrative and growing sports industry can continue indefinitely without profound consequences.
The recent revelation of a $2.8 billion settlement allowing direct payments to players signals a pivotal shift, yet many officials remain complacent or dismissive. They suggest investment in athletics is an inevitable part of a university’s brand-building strategy, “sitting at the front porch” and “driving everything in the ecosystem.” But this framing glosses over the deeper issues surrounding fairness, financial stability, and the core purpose of college sports.
It’s tempting to equate rising revenues with health, but this perspective ignores the uneven distribution of wealth within college athletics. Not all programs flourish equally—while top-tier basketball and football generate enormous money, many schools operate under austerity, unable to sustain grassroots programs or invest equitably across sports and gender lines. As Ackerman points out, the allocation process becomes a zero-sum game between men’s and women’s sports, raising questions about equity and mission. The focus on maximizing revenue often reduces universities’ athletic departments to commercial enterprises, risking the loss of their fundamental educational and developmental roles.
The Risks and Recklessness of Overinvestment
The embrace of private capital and strategic partnerships signals a troubling trend—schools increasingly view athletic programs as lucrative assets, ripe for external investment. While Yormark dismisses notions of crisis, his acknowledgment of potential outside partnerships raises concerns about commodifying college sports. Are universities risking their integrity by allowing Wall Street or private equity firms to influence their athletic decisions? This pivot toward privatization hints at a future where financial motives overshadow educational values and community engagement.
Moreover, the trend of conferences experimenting with new revenue models and distributing media rights based on performance or viewership exposes the fragility of the current system. These reforms aim to incentivize success but could inadvertently foster excesses—pressure to perform, heighten competitiveness, and deepen disparities among institutions. The idea of pooling television rights across conferences, once heralded as a potential game-changer akin to the NFL, is dismissed as too complex, revealing that the pursuit of simplicity and profit can often ignore the unique cultural and institutional contexts of collegiate sports.
Yormark’s remark that “demand creates value” underscores a market-driven approach—yet that demand is fragile, susceptible to economic downturns, changing fan preferences, and societal shifts. Relying on scarcity and demand as primary tools for valuation risks leaving weaker programs behind, widening the gap between elite and struggling institutions, and undermining the inclusivity that once distinguished college athletics.
The False Promise of Youthful Expansion
Despite looming financial stressors, growth remains the mantra. The spotlight on women’s volleyball as a “safe bet” exemplifies the industry’s pursuit of new markets and audiences. However, this focus on expanding into new sports—though seemingly positive—raises questions. Is this diversification genuine or merely a marketing ploy to appease stakeholders and justify investments? The expansion into burgeoning sports risks being superficial if not accompanied by a genuine commitment to equity and community engagement.
More critically, the assumption that new sports and revenue streams can compensate for systemic flaws is naive. Growth strategies centered on adding more sports or chasing fleeting viewership gains ignore the mounting costs—facility upgrades, travel expenses, compliance, and compliance staff. These costs threaten to outpace revenue, especially for smaller programs.
Ultimately, the talk of “growth potential” feels like a mirage—an industry clinging to a narrative of prosperity despite mounting signs of instability. The core issue remains unaddressed: college sports are increasingly driven by corporate greed, with educational values sacrificed in the pursuit of profits. Without a fundamental reevaluation of priorities, the current trajectory risks turning collegiate athletics into yet another privatized, commercialized industry where only the wealthiest and most successful stay afloat.