The NFL and Blocking Accountability
Jerry Jones and the High Cost of Crony Capitalism
Welcome to the Civic Way journal, our quick take on the relevance of current events to America’s future governance. The author, Bob Melville, is the founder of Civic Way, a nonprofit dedicated to good government, and a management consultant with over 45 years of experience improving public agencies.
The Photo
Los Angeles Lakers superstar LeBron James, and long-time Dallas Cowboys fan, asked sportswriters at a recent postgame news conference why they hadn’t questioned him “about the Jerry Jones photo.”
James was referring to an old photo of Jones—now the 80-year-old billionaire Dallas Cowboys owner—at the scene of an infamous 1957 racial clash. The photo captured an impassive 14-year-old Jerry Jones standing near some angry white teenagers trying to block six Black students from entering North Little Rock High School.
Jones claims he was there out of curiosity but that is irrelevant. Afterall, the photo was taken 65 years ago and, while it reveals Jones’ presence, he does have a kind of blank deer-in-the-headlights look. The issues raised by James’ query are much more consequential, not just about Jones and the Dallas Cowboys (the NFL’s highest-grossing and America’s most popular team), but the entire NFL.
What are those issues? One looming issue is the NFL’s ongoing struggle with racism. Another is the NFL’s moral bankruptcy—the huge chasm between the NFL’s government aid and its societal contributions. Confronting these issues would hold the NFL accountable but it also would help us develop a fairer and more coherent approach to public accountability.
The NFL’s Struggle with Racism
There is hard racism, the venomous kind displayed by white supremacists, and there is soft racism, the polite kind shrouded in lofty rhetoric and gilded intentions. They are both vile, but soft racism, by attaining the same results with legalistic civility and expertly-crafted excuses, may be worse.
The National Football League (NFL), America’s largest and richest professional sports league, personifies soft racism. One example is its longstanding underrepresentation of Black coaches and executives. Nearly 60 percent of the NFL’s players are Black. Yet, in its 102-year history, the NFL has only had 26 Black head coaches. Today, of the NFL’s 32 teams, only three have Black head coaches and only seven have Black general managers. About 35 percent of NFL assistant coaches are Black.
In 2022, Black football coaches joined a class-action lawsuit accusing the NFL of racist hiring practices. The suit not only alleges that NFL teams discriminate against Black applicants, but that they also betray their own rules. The NFL’s Rooney Rule requires teams to interview at least one Black applicant for every coaching and executive position. However, as charged in the lawsuit, NFL owners routinely comply with the rule’s particulars without honoring its spirit, doing the interviews without increasing diversity.
Ultimately, NFL’s commitment to diversity should be measured by results, not public service announcements. For instance, in 33 years as the Cowboys owner, Jerry Jones has hired zero Black head coaches and only two Black coordinators. Jones claims that, while he values diversity, he only hires men he knows. This explanation is certainly less revealing than Kyrie Irving’s antisemitic ramblings, but the result it rationalizes—the failure to hire Black head coaches—blights the NFL brand.
The NFL’s Moral Bankruptcy
The NFL owners are arrogant people who have abused the public trust, and act like they can get away with anything. – Arlen Specter, former US Senator (2007)
The NFL is America’s most profitable professional sports league. The 32 NFL teams generate over $15 billion in annual revenue—twice as much as Major League Baseball. And they derive their revenues from multiple sources, including media, sponsorships, gambling, concessions and ticket sales[i].
There was a time when the NFL was not so prosperous. In fact, during the 1960s, it was far from clear that the NFL would become the entertainment juggernaut it is today. Before the AFL-NFL merger, teams actually had to compete, for college players, fans and broadcasting rights, sometimes within the same markets. NFL teams were often inherited (or purchased for a relative song by mere millionaires), and there was no guarantee that their value would appreciate.
So, Congress did then what has since become an art form, it helped wealthy supplicants get wealthier. In 1961, it gave the NFL an antitrust exemption to negotiate broadcast rights as a monopoly (expanded in 1966). It then awarded the NFL nonprofit status to free it from income taxes, and individual teams other tax benefits (e.g., favorable depreciation). These federal handouts save NFL owners millions every year.
State and local governments soon joined the NFL corporate welfare party. In recent decades, they have helped finance most new football facilities—often under a thinly veiled threat from the local NFL team to move elsewhere—some to the tune of over $500 million in public funds[ii]. Most give their NFL teams other perks, such as tax breaks, luxury boxes and operating revenues.
Overall, taxpayers cover an estimated 70 percent of the capital costs for NFL stadiums. When combined with public subsidies for NFL operational costs (e.g., utilities), the total subsidies exceed the associated NFL team costs for several NFL teams. While most cities justify these subsidies as economic development investments, critics see them as acts of desperation, crony capitalism or extortion.
Public stadium deals not only shift costs from NFL owners to taxpayers, but they significantly inflate the value of NFL franchises—and further enrich their owners. For example, according to Forbes, the Minnesota Vikings stadium deal increased that team’s value by about $200 million. Thanks to public largess and the sport’s undisputable allure, owning an NFL team has never been more lucrative. An owner is virtually guaranteed to make a profit even with a losing record.
NFL owners—and their enablers—are quite wealthy. The owners comprise one of America’s most exclusive and least transparent billionaires club[iii]. NFL executives are paid grotesquely large salaries to enrich their bosses and protect the NFL from oversight. In 2021, Roger Goodell, the son of an honorable US Senator, made over $60 million (as the CEO of a nonprofit entity).
The NFL’s prosperity is largely a function of the public benefits it receives. And what does the public receive in return? A league obsessed with its own image, more adept at self-promotion than public service. A league better at protecting its owners than its players. A league that donates a mere fraction of the public benefits it receives to charity. A league that hides behind a wall of legal secrecy.
The NFL gives us an exciting—even captivating—entertainment product, but at what cost? A cold indifference to domestic violence and sexual assault. A cavalier approach to player health. The cowardly blackballing of players. The promotion of legalized gambling. Rampant nepotism in the hiring of coaches. The greedy acceptance of millions of dollars public benefits it does not need.
Congress and Accountability
James’ query was directed at the media, but it also should be directed at Congress. Whether in Democratic or Republican hands, the US House has more often than not used accountability to advance partisan goals, not the public good.
The current Democratic Congress targeted one NFL team. After conducting a 14-month investigation of the Washington Commanders, and its owner, Dan Snyder, the House Oversight and Reform Committee chair, Rep. Carolyn Maloney (D-NY) said, “Our report tells the story of a team rife with sexual harassment …, a billionaire owner intent on deflecting blame, and an influential organization that chose [not to] seek accountability...” The report blasted the team, Snyder’s obstruction and the NFL’s coverup.
The incoming Republican Congress has yet another notion of accountability. Of the Maloney report,
GOP staffers wrote “The Democrats’ sham investigation into the Washington Commanders has been an egregious waste of taxpayer-funded resources.” Rep. James Comer, the incoming House Oversight Committee chair, has vowed that the 118th Congress’ singular focus will be on Hunter Biden. In all likelihood, Republicans will shy away from any NFL probes.
What Congressional leaders of both parties fail to understand is that accountability means nothing without universal standards. Accountability is but an empty word if not applied equally regardless of race, gender, wealth or power. Ultimately, for political leaders to regain the trust of US citizens, they must demonstrate a willingness to hold everyone accountable, including their friends and benefactors.
Conclusion
NFL is a multibillion-dollar enterprise. Its teams command the fierce loyalty of its fans. It possesses enormous cultural clout. It strikes fear in the hearts of politicians in every corner of the country. Regrettably, its power also insulates it from accountability.
The NFL and its owners continue to feed at the public trough. It greedily accepts federal benefits it does not need. It extorts massive subsidies from states and cities. It lacks the courage to compete fairly. It ignores racism. It violates the public trust.
The new House Oversight and Reform Committee should devote at least some of its resources to issues its members purport to care about—like crime, inflation and government spending. It should do something that gives real meaning to such words as “Oversight” and “Reform.”
One idea would be to start with the NFL. Assess how eliminating future public handouts could reduce taxes. How revoking the NFL’s nonprofit status and antitrust exemption could foster competitiveness. How fairer hiring practices could inspire others. How greater public ownership and revenue sharing could strengthen communities.
A political body that takes accountability seriously? A professional sports league that cherishes its public trust? Probably not, but we can hope can’t we?
Well written Bob, good topic!