The NFL Really Doesn’t Want To Talk About It

Wednesday’s rule change says plenty about who the NFL is actually willing to listen to.

All Colin Kaepernick wanted was a conversation.

He didn’t even begin the conversation, if we’re being truly literal about things. It’s worth remembering, now, almost two years after the protest began, that the then 49ers quarterback quietly remained seated during the national anthem for the first three preseason games, breaking no rules, seeking no attention, until eventually Steve Wyche of NFL Media sought out Kaepernick’s first quotes on the matter. The following Sunday, Kaepernick spoke to the media at greater length, expressing, clearly and unambiguously, that he had thought deeply about his actions, was ready for the consequences, and above all else, wanted to spark a dialog that was long overdue.

“If we have these conversations,” offered Kaepernick, “there’s a better understanding of where both sides are coming from. And if we reach common ground, and can understand what everybody’s going through, we can really affect change. And make sure that everyone is treated equally and has the same freedom.”

On Wednesday, the National Football League confirmed what has been clear for quite some time. They want no part of Colin Kaepernick’s conversation.

It’s not as if we really needed further evidence, of course. Kaepernick’s absence from the league, enduring, as it has, through the interminable parade of the T.J. Yateses, the Brandon Weedens, the Brian Hoyers, is really all the proof that anyone needed. And yet, you couldn’t help but marvel at the heavy handed oafishness of the league’s decision, all these months later, to codify their disregard.

“Personnel who choose not to stand for the anthem may stay in the locker room or in a similar location off the field until after the Anthem has been performed.”

Feel free to speak your mind, says the NFL, just not where it can be seen, not on the platform you’ve built, not where anyone might get any wild ideas about police brutality, racial discrimination, and our nation’s consistent failure to live up to its own ideals. It’s the sort of abdication, the kind of blatantly transparent effort to sweep things under the rug, to paper over a problem, and get back to business as usual, that the NFL’s cold, sterile, machinist culture specializes in.

But it sure does give us the rest of us plenty to talk about.

There’s been a lot said about, well, speech, recently. Namely, what it is, when it’s protected, who gets to have it, and where. According to the wise men and women in robes who shape our society, money is speech. Which is convenient for the NFL, because by that definition, they’ll be able to keep talking forever. The league’s owners have demonstrated they are more than willing to throw money at the problem, given that, after all, it’s the language that these avatars of inconceivable privilege best understand. And while, of course, it can only be a positive when dollars flow to organizations genuinely engaged in the fight for social justice, there remains the unpleasant reality that by tying their largesse to a desperate desire for the players to give up their protest, to stand at attention, to just pipe down already, such contributions begin to feel less like donations, and more like hush money.

That should concern all of us, given that, as we know, free speech has never been under more serious threat. Hell, an entire cottage industry has been recently built on the notion that an open exchange of ideas is under assault, from the PC police, from the campus left, from a liberal media that refuses to offer a platform to dissenting conservative voices. (Except for Bari Weiss, of course. And Bret Stephens. Oh, and George Will. Then there’s Megan McArdle. And David Brooks, Ross Douthat, Kathleen Parker, David Frum, Jennifer Rubin… you know what, just forget it.)

And yet it’s funny how, in the face of a rather transparent effort to stifle a public protest that broke no rules, did no damage, and succeeded, by any standard, in sparking a broad conversation about our nation’s shameful history of white supremacy, those same voices are silent. Here is an actual example of ‘no-platforming’, a textbook case of the powerful literally rewriting the rulebook, to make sure that those under their employ will stick to the script, or at the very least, stay out of sight, and out of mind.

So why then, are the ‘free speech absolutists’ so conspicuously silent now? Perhaps it’s because this conversation, the one about race, and history, and our nation’s original sin, is one of the most painful and unpleasant ones our society can possibly have. Who really wants to talk about mass incarceration, given that, as so many have documented, it is simply the latest evolution of the slavery, segregation, and Jim Crow systems that have built white supremacy into the fabric of our country? Who truly wants to deal, openly and honestly, with the fact that cell phone cameras and social media have forced us to confront a level of misconduct from law enforcement that we were far too eager to ignore. Who can actually stand to confront the fact that every aspect of our society, from housing, to educational outcomes, to job opportunities, to financial options, is shaped by the color of our skin, and that if you are part of that oh so fortunate white ruling class, whatever successes you have had, in this life, are owed in part to a lasting legacy of bigotry, violence, and human subjugation.

Starting to feel uncomfortable isn’t it? Good. That’s a feature, not a bug.

The NFL claims, in press releases and PR campaigns, that it wants to confront these issues, and while that may seem like a lot to expect from an organization that, is, after all, just a sanctioning body for a very lucrative game, there is a role they could play, were they truly interested. It’s something that Kaepernick himself, who has proven prescient in all of this, anticipated when his protest began, when he was first asked whether his advocacy might impact his focus on football.

“No, we’re focused on football while we’re in meetings, while we’re on the field,” said Kaepernick, “That’s what our focus is. But in our free time, we have conversations about this. That’s not something that we should be ashamed about or shy away from. We talked about football, we handled our business there, but there’s also a social responsibility that we have to be educated on these things and talk about these things.”

On Wednesday, the league finally confirmed, in black and white, with the most craven of capitulations to our Temper Tantrum in Chief, that it is not up to the task. They are punting on social responsibility, and running from any real role in facilitating progress. The National Football League wants no part of this conversation.

It won’t work, of course.

The NFL isn’t going to be able to change the subject, in part because, being, well, the NFL, they were too ham-handed and oblivious to anticipate all of the ways in which their rule change would inflame, rather than sooth, the issue at hand. Here’s the Players Association, rightfully questioning why they had no role in the shaping of the new policy. Here’s Jets’ Chairman Chris Johnson, making it clear that he has serious reservations about the rule he nonetheless voted for, and will bear any potential fines himself, rather than sanctioning any protesting players. Here’s Steelers Owner Art Rooney, explaining that there is no clear cut policy on what constitutes a “respectful” stance during the anthem, something that surely will not have any consequences once the new season is underway.

And here is our oafish man-child President, wasting no time in heading to his favorite morning zoo television program, to explain that while the new policy is good, it’s also still not good enough, because staying in the locker room is bad, and maybe it’s time to kick people out of the league, or the country, or anything to continue the interminable culture war that distracts our nation while he and his cronies take advantage of every opportunity to loot the store. If you’re asking who could have anticipated this, the answer is literally everyone not barricaded in a boardroom, and so of course the NFL was caught flat-footed, and will continue to step on rakes for the foreseeable future.

But these issues weren’t going away, even with a better approach, a savvier PR strategy, a more conciliatory tact between owners and players, or even a genuine effort to address the heart of America’s racial justice issues. At this point, the conversation is outside the league’s control. This was inevitable the moment a backup quarterback for a bad football team made the simple, straightforward, and personal decision to keep his seat. Since then, we’ve seen think pieces, charitable donations, magazine covers, educational camps, activist operations, and an incredible national movement. All from a single act of peaceful, purposeful protest.

“This is a conversation I’ve had with a lot of people a lot of times over a long period of time,” said Kaepernick, when it all began, way back in August of 2016, “It just so happened it was the other night that people realized it and talked about it.”

It’s worth noting of course, that in the midst of all of it, since that initial explanation. Colin Kaepernick hasn’t had much else to say. He hasn’t had to.

Once you spark a conversation this important, it’s kind of hard to talk about anything else.