House v. NCAA: College Sports Needs a Blueprint, Not a Band-Aid

ChatGPT Summary of House v. NCAA and Johnson v. NCAA

Metaphor for House v. NCAA

House v. NCAA is a major antitrust lawsuit challenging the NCAA’s past restrictions on athlete compensation—specifically regarding name, image, and likeness (NIL) opportunities before 2021. Filed in 2020 by former Arizona State swimmer Grant House and others, the suit alleges that the NCAA and Power Five conferences conspired to suppress athletes' earning potential, violating antitrust laws. The case builds on the 2021 NCAA v. Alston decision, aiming to establish that past NIL restrictions amounted to illegal price-fixing.

In 2024, a $2.8 billion settlement received preliminary approval, covering backpay for affected athletes. The deal also proposes a new revenue-sharing model, allowing future athletes to receive up to 22% of a school’s athletic revenue. It eliminates scholarship caps in favor of roster limits, and could generate over $20 billion in future payments and benefits.

While the case doesn’t resolve the broader question of whether athletes are employees under federal labor law, it could influence ongoing litigation in that area. Final approval of the settlement is still pending due to concerns about athlete protections and roster cuts.

This isn’t the only case on the block however, as Johnson v. NCAA is still moving through the courts. In 2023, the Third Circuit Court of Appeals ruled that college athletes could be considered employees under certain circumstances, allowing the case to proceed to trial in the lower court. This case, along with others, could help define whether the modern college athlete is still an “amateur” — or something much closer to a professional employee.

There’s a lot to take in here. As of mid-May 2025, it seems like all college athletics stakeholders are frozen until Judge Wilken finalizes

her decision. That said, our initial take is that House v. NCAA is a good thing. Any legislation that forces the NCAA to finally face the truth—that they’ve bilked athletes out of the ability to monetize their talents—is part of the solution, not the problem.

But even once it’s finalized, there will still be a lot of holes to fill.

First, House still sidesteps the issue of athletes being recognized as employees. The NCAA and its stakeholders will drag their feet, kicking and screaming, to avoid going there. And as long as athletes aren’t considered employees, they still won’t have the basic labor protections that should come with making millions for their schools.

Next, it’s unclear whether athletes will be required to sign contracts. But if schools are paying athletes directly for athletic participation, it’s hard to imagine that some kind of formal agreement won’t be required. This is good on one hand, because it will limit the exploitation of the transfer portal since athletes will have to honor their agreements with the schools. However, the main problem here is that there’s no consistent structure for what those contracts will look like or who will regulate them. Schools or states could govern these agreements however they want, meaning some athletes might have protections—injury clauses, minimum pay, transfer terms—while others won’t. Without a centralized set of rules, athletes remain more vulnerable than they would be if they were classified as employees.

NIL isn’t affected by this ruling, which means the college sports arms race continues. NIL collectives still operate without any real oversight. Right now, we’ve got a patchwork of state laws (30 states have passed some form of NIL legislation), NCAA rules with limited enforcement power post-Alston, and schools and courts all doing their own thing. Without real NIL governance, the balance of power will continue shifting toward schools backed by the wealthiest donors.

Another issue: this ruling impacts Power 4 schools very differently than mid-majors and small Division I programs. After the settlement, Power 4 schools will participate in revenue sharing, while mid-majors and small D1s can opt out. But they’ll still be competing against one another, creating a system where “professional” schools are stacked against amateur ones. A better approach would pair mandatory revenue sharing with the creation of a RevGen super-league—essentially a pro or feeder league to the major pro sports. Mid-majors could opt in to try to compete or shift into a true amateur division. Right now, this ruling risks pushing mid-majors and small schools even further behind—and could jeopardize academics and other parts of their institutions as they scramble to stay in the funding race.

And what about Olympic sports? Division II and Division III? These athletes are governed by the NCAA, too, but they’re barely mentioned in all of this. They seem forgotten—and the NCAA still needs to step up to protect them.

Bottom line: this is real progress, but we’re not there yet. Nothing meaningful will happen until someone—or some group—takes a holistic approach to solving the bigger picture: NIL governance, revenue sharing, employment status, Olympic sports, academics, media rights, and more. Maybe the Trump commission can be that leadership body that brings all stakeholders to the table. But if not, we’re looking at more half-measures and more Band-Aids slapped on a much bigger problem.