By any measure, the landscape of college athletics is booming—from $30 million coaching staffs to private jet travel for cross-country games, the spectacle of Division I sports has reached unprecedented heights. But as Karen Weaver’s Forbes article underscores, the question we must ask is no longer how big can we get?—but rather, how much bigger before it all bursts?
In an era where higher education is already under siege—from attacks on free speech to the defunding of vital research—our relentless chase for athletic glory feels increasingly like a dangerous distraction. As Weaver astutely asks: are we renovating the front porch while the entire house is under attack?
The numbers alone should stop us in our tracks. UCLA’s women’s basketball team logged 36,000 miles in travel this season, more than the circumference of the Earth. Meanwhile, the Oregon men's basketball team skipped traditional classrooms entirely this semester in favor of chartered flights and online coursework. Sleep scientists, performance dieticians, and even applesauce pouches are enlisted to offset the physical toll.
Is this what the college experience has become?
The argument that “this is what it takes to compete” rings hollow when you consider the broader implications. At its core, higher education is supposed to be about opportunity, learning, and community. Instead, we’re increasingly mimicking a professional sports model—one that elevates exclusivity, entertainment, and profit above all else. Today’s collegiate athletics ecosystem is steeped in the language of billionaires, gated communities, and intellectual property rights. Private equity firms and media conglomerates dominate the conversation, while the original mission of student-athlete development gets further lost in the noise.
This hyper-commercialization is not just unsustainable—it’s antithetical to what college is supposed to stand for. And the imbalance is only getting worse.
The current structure of NCAA Division I athletics—designed decades ago—can no longer bear the weight of today’s financial and logistical demands. A handful of revenue-generating sports, primarily football and men’s basketball, are driving decisions that impact entire athletic departments, academic integrity, and even institutional identity.
It’s time for a reset.
One viable solution is the creation of a separate tier or conference specifically for football. Let the sport that is already operating like a de facto minor league system have its own structure, funding model, and governance. For the rest of college sports, we must re-establish regionally based conferences that reflect the educational values we claim to uphold. Reducing travel, preserving class time, and cutting operational costs would be immediate wins—not just for institutions, but for student-athletes themselves.
This isn’t about turning back the clock. It’s about reclaiming the soul of higher education. At a moment when universities should be touting their role in public health, economic mobility, and civic engagement, our athletic arms race risks sending the opposite message: that we’re just another luxury brand selling exclusivity and spectacle.
Weaver's warning is clear—imperialism has arrived in college sports. And unless we confront it head-on, it may take down more than just a few athletic departments. It could further erode the credibility and accessibility of higher education itself.
So let’s ask the hard question: Is this empire we’re building actually worth it?
If the answer is no, then we already know what needs to change.
