It’s an ages-old question, one as old as the athletic scholarship itself: Are college athletes on scholarship primarily students? Or are they more like hired mercenaries, brought in to do a specific job, and students second — or perhaps not at all?
Two recent newspaper investigations indicate that, in the major revenue-producing sports of men’s basketball and football, the classroom is not the players’ strong suit. Evidence presented by the Atlanta Constitution-Journal (Dec. 27, 2008) and USA Today (Nov. 20, 2008) suggests that many of the nation’s universities are complicit in an unethical system. Students are admitted with credentials that do not even begin to approach the university’s norm, they are directed toward meaningless courses, and they either do not graduate or they receive degrees with little value.
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution compared SAT scores of regular students, all athletes, and athletes in men’s basketball and football at 54 major athletic powers. The newspaper found that “nationwide, football players average 220 points lower on the SAT than their classmates — and men’s basketball players average seven points less than football players.” Other male athletes, on average, scored 115 points higher than football players, and female athletes averaged 47 points more.
The same article also stated that football players graduate only 56 percent of the time, and male basketball players graduate at a dismal 49 percent rate, compared to 66 percent for all athletes and 64 percent for all students.
USA Today in November revealed that scholarship athletes tend to choose their college majors so that they get the best grades for the least work — they “major in eligibility.” Reviewing 142 Division I schools, the newspaper found that athletes tend to “cluster” with their teammates in certain majors. The article quoted one former Kansas State University football player as saying “the athletics academics advisors said ‘this is what everybody is doing. It’s the easiest major.’” Even athletes who could do well academically are funneled into weak courses, the newspaper said.
The articles described a system engaged in a giant collaborative scam — as if administrators were saying in unison: “They (the athletes) aren’t qualified to succeed academically at our school, but we pretend to teach them, they pretend to learn, and we don’t have to pay them much. And they give us the publicity we crave.”
Although many individual athletes are serious students, many others simply do not belong on their campuses. Their presence is not always benign. In one case of an athletic program run amok, between 1997 and 2004, nine women at the University of Colorado filed charges sexual assault charges against football players and recruits.
Perhaps the main reason why administrators are willing to sacrifice their school’s integrity is that athletic teams have great “marketing value” for schools seeking teen-age applicants, suggests Harry Lewis, a former dean of the Harvard University undergraduate college.
One way to avoid the dichotomy between major athletic programs and ethics would be to “spin-off” the revenue producing teams, like professors who “spin-off” their research into privately owned companies. The teams could retain the “university brand,” keeping the allegiance of students and alumni, but be separate, profit-seeking entities that can serve the interests of all constituencies better. Schools could get the publicity they desire without compromising admissions and academic standards. Athletes could be paid as the revenue-producing employees they are. There could also be scholarships for athletes ready and willing to face the rigors of college study.
Yet no reform will occur until a majority of the university administrations agrees they need to change. Right now, a lot of people prefer things just the way they are. Until there is a major catalyst for change, schools are going to submit to the pressure to field competitive teams for the sake of publicity and recognition, even as it compromises the integrity of their mission.
Jay Schalin is a senior writer for the John W. Pope Center for Higher Education Policy.