My colleague Brad Bateman has argued that my stricture against intercollegiate athletics is unduly harsh. While sharing my view that NCAA Division I athletics undermine the moral character and physical well-being of athletes, he maintains that Division III athletics do more good than harm.
I agree that the practices prevalent in Division III athletics are much less pernicious than those in Division I. However, in my opinion, even the relatively mild harm done by intercollegiate athletics of the kind we currently participate in at Grinnell is objectionable.
Specifically, I object to three features of Grinnell's current athletics program:
The idea that participants in an athletic event should deliberately inflict pain on themselves in order to improve their chances of winning. This view is stated explicitly, for instance, in some of the inspirational posters currently on display in the male athletes' locker room: ``The good runner learns to accept the pain; the great one looks forward [to] it.'' ``To keep from decaying, to be a winner, the athlete must accept pain -- not only accept it, but look for it, live with it, learn not to fear it.''
One could hardly ask for a clearer rejection of the classical ideal of mens sana in corpore sano.
The unsportsmanlike emphasis on winning at all costs, as opposed to playing to the best of one's ability and training: ``Winning is [a competitor's] only goal.'' ``Some of us will do our job well and some will not, but we will all be judged by only one thing -- the results!!!''
The steadily increasing frequency of road trips that pre-empt class sessions. It is no longer unusual for an athlete to miss four or even six sessions of a course simply in order to travel to distant competition sites. I expect this problem to become even worse over the next few years because of adjustments in the membership of our athletic conference.
Against these objections, one should weigh the benefits of intercollegiate athletics. I can think of only one that is not equally well provided by intramural sports: strong competition for our best athletes. In a small school, an athlete who is particularly strong in some sport or event may not encounter strong enough competition intramurally to develop his or her ability to the fullest possible extent.
I acknowledge that this is a good thing that we would be giving up if we withdrew from intercollegiate athletics. I don't believe that it's worth the bad things that accompany it.
My colleague Chuck Jepsen has pointed out that it is very unlikely that Grinnell or any other college that has intercollegiate athletics will withdraw from them, and that almost all colleges and universities do participate in intercollegiate athletics. I acknowledge the truth of these observations, but I can't see that they have anything to do with the excellence of a liberal-arts college. In fact, in my opinion, they suggest another criterion of excellence:
An excellent liberal-arts college does not adopt a policy or a practice merely on the ground that most other liberal-arts colleges have adopted it. Instead, it critically examines the policies and practices of other institutions and adopts them only if they are found to be good, useful, and practicable. Moreover, an excellent liberal-arts college originates many policies and practices. It leads its peers rather than following them.
My colleague Sam Rebelsky has pointed out that the publicity resulting from Grinnell's participation in intercollegiate athletics also benefits the college (though not necessarily the individual athletes), attracting better applicants, more donations from enthusiastic alumni, and higher esteem from the community and public at large.
I'm not certain how much weight to give this argument. It is true that many people seem to have a higher opinion of Grinnell College because of the achievements of our athletes. On the other hand, participation in intercollegiate athletics does not guarantee good publicity:
Nor is it obvious that participation in intercollegiate athletics really attracts better students. The studies summarized in James Shulman and William Bowen's recent book The game of life appear to lead to the opposite conclusion.
created February 2, 1998
last revised February 18, 2001