Opinion: The end of amateurism? What college sports isn’t saying out loud

College sports is no longer in transition—it’s in freefall.

The recent flurry of headlines about NIL clearinghouses, NCAA commissions, and backdoor conference deals paint a picture of progress. But what they actually reveal is a coordinated exit from the idea of amateurism —by the very institutions that once swore to protect it.

They’re the coaches, athletic directors, university presidents, and power brokers who now vote, without apology, for a system that mimics professional sports but in an arena whose tenets are founded in education and personal transformation and growth. The public is being sold a narrative of modernization and opportunity. But what’s really happening is far more cynical: the gutting of college athletics’ last remaining principles in favor of money, control, and selective accountability.

College sports have always occupied a strange middle ground. Not quite professional, not quite amateur. But the balancing act is breaking down. NCAA President Charlie Baker’s recent comments signaled a quiet surrender: the idea that the NCAA must “cede” control to institutions and third parties isn’t just bureaucratic repositioning, it is philosophical.

So let’s call it what it is. This is not about fairness. It’s not about athletes’ rights. It’s about replicating the power structure of pro sports —with none of the legal protections for the players.

Five questions that should make everyone squirm

1. Who is really driving the elimination of amateurism?
   Everyone assumes this is a player-led revolution. But athletes didn’t write the policy shifts. They didn’t vote in boardrooms. Athletic directors, coaches, conference executives, and university presidents did. These are the same people who for decades insisted amateurism was sacred. Now, they’re building new models that depend on third-party money and semi-professional structures. So who’s really steering the ship?
2. Why are we building a system that mirrors pro sports—but without the paychecks, unions, or labor rights?
   The system taking shape looks a lot like pro sports—with one key difference: these athletes are still technically students. NIL collectives, transfer free agency, and pay-for-play deals mimic the market-driven ecosystem of the pros. But the infrastructure—academic calendars, NCAA oversight, institutional governance—hasn’t caught up. What happens when those two worlds collide?
3. Is anyone truly fighting for amateurism anymore?
   We hear a lot of indignation about the loss of tradition. But are there actual advocates inside these institutions putting their votes and policy behind the preservation of amateur play? Or is everyone quietly pivoting while using “student-athlete” as a convenient rhetorical shield? The old amateur model was flawed. No question. But let’s not pretend this is purely progress. The transformation we’re witnessing could create deeper inequities, encourage even more commercialism, and hollow out the academic mission of college sports altogether. Are we ready for that trade-off? 
4. What’s left for athletes who aren’t in the Power Five?
   Most of the media attention is on Power Five football and men’s basketball. But the NCAA oversees hundreds of smaller programs that don’t have million-dollar budgets or media deals. Should the same rules and assumptions apply across all divisions? Are we about to impose a semi-pro model on programs that still operate on volunteerism and limited scholarships? Or worse, are we quietly writing off entire divisions and demographics as collateral damage?
5. Who’s going to speak up before this all crashes?
   University leaders aren’t going to. They’re too busy managing PR. Coaches won’t—this system now lets them buy championships. Conference execs? They’re negotiating like agents without the title. If athletes don’t have legal representation and public advocacy, they will continue to be tokens in a game they didn’t design.

Five ways this system fails athletes

1. It commodifies them without representing them.
   The money pouring into college sports is real—but so is the absence of guardrails. Athletes are now revenue generators without contracts, without collective bargaining, and without safety nets. This isn’t equity. It’s the worst kind of market exposure.
2. It punishes loyalty and rewards chaos.
   Every incentive now pushes athletes to leave, jump, chase money. Relationships, development, and long-term growth are being replaced by short-term deals and shallow transactions. That might work for the schools—but it’s toxic for the players.
3. It creates legal gray zones with real consequences.
   No employee classification. No labor law protections. No consistency in NIL enforcement. And when something goes wrong—when a deal collapses or a school pulls an offer—guess who’s left to clean it up? Not the schools. Not the NCAA. Not the new commission. The same fall guy: the athlete.
4. It decimates opportunity in smaller programs.
   We’re already seeing schools cut sports to chase competitiveness in one or two big-name programs. This doesn’t expand opportunity. It narrows it. And it does so disproportionately—hurting women’s sports, Olympic sports, and underserved communities the most.
5. It sells players a dream and gives them a job —with no benefits.
   This is perhaps the most galling part: the system still markets itself as aspirational. Education. Experience. Exposure. But the reality? It’s work. Grueling, public, high-stakes work—without pay, protection, or power.

What now?

If you care about athletes, the answer is not to go back to the old amateurism model. That ship has sailed, and it wasn’t fair to begin with. But the solution isn’t to build a new model that looks like pro sports without any of the rights that pro athletes fought for.

What we need is honesty. Honesty from institutions about what they’ve chosen. Honesty from policymakers about whether they’re willing to regulate this before the wreckage is permanent.

We need a new framework that does more than redistribute money. It must recognize the athlete as a stakeholder, not a pawn. That means legal rights. Employment protections. Transparent governance. Real representation.

Because here’s the truth: college sports have already abandoned amateurism. The question now is whether it will also abandon the people it claims to be about.

Athletes deserve more than headlines. They deserve someone in the room fighting for what’s right, not just what’s profitable.

 Christine Brown is founder and CEO of Christine Brown & Partners in Shelton, a law firm dedicated to protecting college athletes with a focus on Title IX and NIL.