Christian Schneider

Milwaukee Journal Sentinel

A few weeks ago, Wisconsin Badger basketball star Nigel Hayes stood outside ESPN's pregame College Game Day football broadcast with a sign that read, “BROKE COLLEGE ATHLETE: ANYTHING HELPS.” Within minutes, Hayes was being hailed for “speaking out” against the “injustice” suffered by college athletes.

Yet this is perhaps the most obnoxious type of praise we heap on young people in modern culture. Celebrating millennials for “speaking out” or “starting a conversation” merely praises them for exercising their right to speak — a right everyone already knows they have. It’s a linguistic participation trophy.

Such undeserved celebration absolves the speaker from actually having to defend the position he or she is taking. I could take the position that giraffes are underrated banjo players, and while I would be “starting a conversation” about animals playing bluegrass music, it also would make me an insane person. (I haven’t even gotten a giraffe to learn the accordion yet.)

Now Hayes seems like a charming, winsome personality. He warmed Americans’ hearts during the Wisconsin basketball team’s multiple runs to the Final Four a few years ago, most notably teaching the citizenry the wonders of stenography.

But his histrionic protest in this case leaves out one vital fact that he obviously can’t see. Literally, every student on the University of Wisconsin-Madison campus would instantly switch places with Nigel Hayes. Every single one.

While Hayes complains about “broke” athletes, there are tens of thousands of students saddled with future debt who wish they were as “destitute” as he is. And last year, Hayes turned down the chance to play professional basketball for a living, where he would make millions of dollars doing what he ostensibly loves. If he was truly living a life of abject poverty on campus, he could have easily rectified that by leaving before he graduated.(Hayes is a marginal NBA prospect, but many American players do very well overseas.)

Of course, the issue over whether to pay college athletes has been around well before Hayes and will continue well after he leaves UW. And admittedly at a place like UW, it may seem unfair for the athletic department to vacuum in money while the players retain their amateur status.

But the bottom line is that athletes are paid — in the form of full tuition, room and board. In the case of an out-of-state student such as Hayes, this can run up to $200,000 for four years at UW. Just because this benefit doesn’t look like payment because it’s not money in his pocket doesn’t mean it’s not hard cash being shelled out by taxpayers and other students who pay their own tuition to subsidize his. If Hayes needs a reminder that this is real money, I can send him a copy of the look on my face when I write my tax check every April.

Further, there are substantial benefits to having a college degree. According to the U.S. Census Bureau, bachelor’s degree holders typically earn more than 75% over the course of their lifetimes than those with only high school degrees. And if we’re being totally honest, many college athletes have no business being in a college classroom — their admission to the university as a result of their athletic talent grants them a financial boost for the remainder of their lives if they complete their degrees.

Should athletes be paid to play?

The economics of paying athletes doesn’t work, either. Yes, the Badgers are awash in cash due to the success of both their revenue-rich football and basketball teams. But only a couple dozen Division I athletic departments (out of 228) actually make money — the overwhelming majority run their athletic programs with help from their general funds. And if rules mandating equity weren't implemented, this could give a major recruiting advantage to the schools that could pay the most.

Additionally, if schools were forced to pay athletes, many universities simply would cut back the number of scholarships they offer. The unintended consequence of this would be to restrict access to those disadvantaged African-Americans who use their athletic scholarships to overcome their tough upbringings.

But all these facts are swept by the wayside because Nigel Hayes held a funny sign on TV while we all praise his dedication to “justice.” There’s a simple solution to all this, actually — any athlete who wants to give up his or her scholarship and work his or her way through college accumulating debt like every other student is free to do so.

Yet unsurprisingly, for the athletes, who still flock to universities to participate in sports, this rarely seems like a “conversation” worth starting.

Christian Schneider is a Journal Sentinel columnist and blogger. Email cschneider@jrn.com. Twitter: @Schneider_CM