College sports in 2026 look almost nothing like they did five years ago. The name, image, and likeness era started as a correction to an obviously unfair system and turned into something far messier and more complicated than its architects anticipated. Athletes are getting paid. Coaches are losing players to the portal weeks after signing day. Small programs are watching their rosters disassemble in real time. And the revenue sharing model that the House v. NCAA settlement is implementing means that the largest athletic departments in the country will be paying athletes directly from their institutional budgets, something that was explicitly illegal for most of college sports history. Nobody fully controls what this is turning into.

NIL started with the basic premise that athletes should be able to profit from their own name, image, and likeness rather than watching their universities, coaches, apparel companies, and broadcast networks generate billions off their performance while they received only a scholarship. That premise was correct. The implementation created a market without rules, which is another way of saying it created a market that rewards whoever has the most money to spend first. Collective organizations, which are donor-funded groups that exist specifically to pay athletes, emerged immediately and became the primary engine of NIL compensation at the elite level. The athletes who benefit most are the ones in the highest-visibility sports at the highest-visibility programs. That gap between the top and the bottom is wider now than it was before.

The one-time transfer rule, which allows athletes to move programs once without sitting out a season, solved a real problem. Athletes who signed with programs that misrepresented opportunities, whose coaches left, who transferred for genuine personal or academic reasons, were previously penalized with lost playing time. Removing that barrier was the right call. What nobody fully reckoned with was that the same rule would create a transfer market that moves at the speed of social media. Athletes enter the portal the day after a coaching change. They leave programs that did not meet NIL expectations within weeks of arriving. Some players transfer three times in three years. Rosters are harder to build and keep together because the incentives push toward constant movement rather than commitment and development.

The House v. NCAA settlement is the structural change that will redefine college sports more than any single rule change. The settlement allows schools to share revenue directly with athletes, up to a cap of approximately $22 million per program per year starting in the 2025-26 academic year. The largest football and basketball programs, the ones generating $100 million or more annually, can absorb that cost without significant disruption. The programs in the middle, schools with decent athletic revenue but not elite budgets, are being forced to make choices about which sports to fund and at what level. Programs that were never generating meaningful revenue are now operating under a model that was designed for programs much larger than they are.

For Black athletes specifically, the NIL era presents a genuine opportunity and a familiar pattern operating simultaneously. Black athletes disproportionately populate the revenue-generating sports, football and men's basketball, which are the sports producing the largest NIL deals. The opportunity is real. At the same time, the collective system that primarily drives those deals is controlled by donor networks that skew heavily white, older, and alumni-driven. The athletes with the most leverage, high-visibility recruits at elite programs, can negotiate meaningful terms. The athletes with less leverage, players at mid-major schools or in non-revenue sports, have far less power in that market regardless of their talent level. The structural correction that NIL represents is real, but it has not flattened the underlying power dynamics.

What happens next is the question everyone in college athletics is trying to answer. The Power Four conferences are lobbying for what essentially amounts to semi-professional status for their athletes, with direct employment relationships, full revenue sharing, and governance structures that separate them further from the rest of Division I. If that happens, which is increasingly likely, college sports bifurcates into a two-tier system with a small number of elite programs operating as professional leagues in everything but name and everyone else operating in a completely different competitive and financial environment. Whether that produces better or worse outcomes for athletes over time depends on whether the new system is built with athlete interests at the center or whether it simply creates a new version of extraction with slightly better compensation.

The scholarship model was never an honest accounting of what college athletes contributed. What replaces it needs to be, and that part of the conversation is still far from settled.