Agency Is Not Caving In: Lessons from NIL,College Sports, and Today’s Classrooms

Since college football is off and running, the visibility of the NIL era is paramount in my mind.  I am most certainly a proponent of the organic amateurism American college sports are born from, however like many others, I have been quite skeptical of this new era of college athletics, and in large part–still am. When NIL entered college football, one of the loudest critiques was: “If players get too much freedom, the game will fall apart.  It will be a ME culture that makes it just another professional league” The worry was that autonomy would equal laziness, entitlement, or watered-down expectations.  I suppose in instances that worry has perhaps become a reality for some, but I am coming around for how I am finding that not the case in premise.  I “feel” viewership and college sports (especially football) popularity is at an all-time high while parity in competition amidst the power 5 conferences is rampant.

Sound familiar? It’s the same critique often leveled at today’s youth. We sometimes hear that giving students more choice, flexibility, or ownership of learning in the traditional school environment is somehow “coddling” or “lowering the bar.” In truth, that’s a false equivalence — a kind of cultural gaslighting that equates freedom with weakness.  While at the same time admonishing a generation of students for their lack of creativity and ambition.  It is of course as Daniel Pink so eloquently laid out in his premise of motivation 3.0 once again more about mastery, autonomy, and purpose.  Let’s continue to dig into the analogy I am positing with NIL and college sports a bit further

Here’s the reality:

NIL hasn’t erased performance standards. Quarterbacks still have to read defenses. Linemen still have to block. Players who don’t deliver quickly find their “brand value” evaporates.

Agency hasn’t erased learning standards. Students in personalized, mastery-based classrooms still have to meet rigorous expectations — they just have more pathways to show they can do it.  If students cannot sustain mastery in the essentials (K-12 education); doors close themselves.  In the 21st century economy, competencies are king.

In both cases, the standards remain high. What changes is who owns the journey.

The danger is not that autonomy weakens expectations — it’s that we, as adults, sometimes conflate control with rigor. We assume that if young people aren’t doing it exactly the way we prescribe, they must not be working as hard. But NIL shows us the opposite: when players see both the stakes and the ownership, they are often more driven, not less. The same is true in classrooms — when students feel the work matters (and applicable to life and their future success) to them, they lean in with more persistence, not less.

So, when critics claim that giving students autonomy is “watering things down,” it’s worth remembering: ownership is not indulgence. Agency is not caving in. In fact, the highest expectations are those students set for themselves when they know their performance — on the field or in the classroom — actually matters.

As Ken Williams reminds us in Ruthless Equity, “start with the crown, not the kid.” If we truly want high standards, we cannot predetermine limits on what students can achieve—especially not based on demographics, zip codes, or preconceived notions of their journey. To set the bar lower for some groups is not benevolence; it is bias disguised as mercy. Just as athletes with NIL deals must still put in the work on the field, students who are given agency still need to meet rigorous expectations in the classroom. The crown—the standard of excellence—remains the same. Our role is to provide the support, coaching, and belief that every learner is capable of reaching it.

To be honest, regarding NIL I’m not totally sold yet. I think the influence of money complicates so much when it comes down to a game. But what I can’t ignore are the parallels to society and the ambivalence of today’s youth to navigate the game put in front of them. I don’t pretend to fully understand the reach of NIL into all sports, activities, finances, or even equity—but I am willing to learn. And that’s the point. As educators and leaders, our charge is the same: we don’t have to have it all figured out, but we must be willing to lean into the complexity, resist false equivalencies, and hold unwaveringly high expectations for every student. Our crown is too valuable—and our kids too capable—to settle for anything less.