Vern Evans
Sen. Tommy Tuberville recently said he would pursue new rules in this year’s National Defense Authorization Act to allow military academy athletes to defer their active-duty commitments to pursue professional sports.
“When appropriate, these cadets and midshipmen should graduate and commission with their classes, then defer their service obligation until their professional sports-playing careers are complete,” Tuberville said in a Senate Armed Services Committee hearing last week.
Tuberville, a former football coach, claims it would enhance recruitment and raise the academies’ national profile. As of this writing, Tuberville has not released a formal proposal. Nevertheless, on the surface, such a proposal may appear to be a creative recruiting tool. In reality, it represents a fundamental erosion of the principles upon which our service academies were built: duty, honor and service to the country. Tuberville’s proposal doesn’t strengthen the academies; it undermines their very reason for existence.
A taxpayer-funded academy education comes at a steep cost — over $400,000 per graduate for the U.S. Naval Academy and U.S. Air Force Academy in 2015, according to a 2018 Congressional Research Service report. But the real investment isn’t just financial. It’s the four or more years spent cultivating officers through education and training. That investment is made with a singular expectation: service. When that commitment is broken, it’s not just money lost — it’s leadership, readiness and the very purpose of the academies.
Tuberville’s proposal also sends a troubling message that a sworn obligation can be postponed, not for hardship or higher service, but for personal gain and public attention. This opens the door to a dangerous precedent, not just for athletes but for any cadet with a lucrative offer in hand.
Would we allow a tech prodigy to break their commitment to join Google or Apple? Would we let an aspiring actor, model or influencer delay their service to chase those pursuits? If not, then why carve out special treatment for athletes? The cadet who studies day and night to become a brilliant engineer or cyber expert doesn’t get to leave early for Silicon Valley. Why should a quarterback or power forward get a pass?
Supporters often point to exceptions made for Rhodes Scholars or Olympic athletes, but these scenarios are fundamentally different. Olympians compete on behalf of their country, while Rhodes Scholars study to better serve it. In both cases, the mission remains aligned with national service. Professional athletes, on the other hand, are entertainers. They don’t wear a uniform to represent the nation, they wear a jersey to represent a brand.
Still, some argue that allowing academy athletes to go pro could boost recruiting and raise the military’s public profile. But that claim doesn’t hold up under scrutiny. We’ve seen similar promises before with NASCAR sponsorships, drag racing teams, esports and soldiers participating on the television program “America’s Got Talent.” These flashy efforts consistently lack clear measures of effectiveness, often turning into expensive gimmicks rather than genuine recruiting tools. Many of these programs have been criticized for poor oversight and unclear results.
Even if these athletes were placed in the reserves to “serve,” what would that service look like? Will they be missing games to attend monthly drills or two-week annual training? Would games and brand appearances count as recruiting duty? That’s not military service. The notion that high-paid athletes can fulfill a military obligation by simply being visible is an insult to those who actually wear the uniform.
And let’s be honest: What credibility would they have as recruiters? Is a second lieutenant or ensign who deferred their active duty service the right voice to inspire prospective recruits? Imagine the message: “You should totally sign up. The military is great — just not great enough for me to follow through on my commitment.” Contrast that with someone like David Robinson, a Naval Academy graduate who completed his active duty service before going pro, or Alejandro Villanueva, an ROTC graduate who deployed to Afghanistan before joining the NFL. Both men served with distinction before stepping into the spotlight. Their credibility as public figures and potential recruiters was earned through experience, not handed to them through legislative exceptions.
If we want athletes who serve, then let them serve. Let them commission, lead troops and earn credibility through experience — not exceptions. That credibility is exactly what made Robinson and Villanueva effective ambassadors for military service. They honored their commitments — and that’s the model we should champion: service first, without shortcuts or exemptions.
The integrity of our commissioning process, the example we set for future leaders and the core value of service before self are all at stake. This isn’t about punishing athletes. It’s about protecting the institution, the investment and the promise every cadet makes when they raise their right hand. These commitments are not placeholders — they are sacred, and they must be honored.
Ken Segelhorst is a retired U.S. Army lieutenant colonel and former assistant professor at the United States Military Academy at West Point, where he directed MX400: Officership, the superintendent’s capstone course. He is also a fellow at the Simons Center for Ethical Leadership and Interagency Cooperation.
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