The Double Standard

The NFL continues to have the same problems 20 years after the creation of the Rooney Rule

In the high-stakes world of NFL management, the metrics for success should be clear: wins, losses, and progress. Yet, as the 2024 season draws to a close, a disturbing pattern has emerged that raises questions about equity in leadership accountability.

A Tale of Three General Managers

The Indianapolis Colts' Chris Ballard, entering his eighth year as General Manager, has overseen a team that has missed the playoffs in four of the last five seasons. Under his tenure, the Colts have cycled through six different starting quarterbacks and posted a 46-52-1 record since 2019. Despite this underwhelming performance, Ballard maintains his position.

Similarly, Joe Schoen of the New York Giants has retained his role despite the team's dramatic regression. After a promising 2022 campaign, the Giants stumbled to a 6-11 record in 2023, with their offense ranking among the league's worst while posting a 3-14 record in 2024. The team's $160 million investment in Daniel Jones and Saquon Barkley’s exodus appears increasingly questionable, yet Schoen's job security remains intact.

In stark contrast, Ran Carthon's tenure with the Tennessee Titans was cut short after just two seasons. Despite inheriting a team in transition and making notable moves to rebuild, including trading away veteran players for future assets, Carthon was dismissed following a 6-11 season and 3-14 in 2024 – the same record as Schoen's Giants.

The Numbers Tell a Story

A deeper analysis reveals troubling statistics. Among the NFL's 32 teams, only three currently employ Black general managers. The average tenure for white GMs in the league is 5.8 years, while Black GMs average 3.2 years in their positions.

Historical Context and Current Impact

The NFL's implementation of the Rooney Rule in 2003 stands as both a landmark decision and an inadvertent acknowledgment of systemic racism within the league's power structure. That such a rule needed to exist in the first place speaks volumes about the deeply rooted inequities in professional football's hierarchy. Twenty years later, the rule's effectiveness has become increasingly questionable, often reduced to what many critics call a "checkbox exercise."

Consider the numbers: In 2003, when the rule was implemented, there were three Black head coaches in the NFL. In 2024, despite two decades of the Rooney Rule, there are only four. The expansion of the rule to front office positions in 2020 has yielded similarly disappointing results, with just three Black general managers across 32 teams.

The Rooney Rule is a joke.

Teams conduct interviews to satisfy the requirements, but the hiring patterns suggest these interviews often lack genuine consideration. It's become a procedural hurdle rather than a tool for meaningful change.

The rule's limitations become particularly evident in high-profile cases. Teams have been known to conduct rushed interviews with minority candidates when they've already decided on their preferred choice. In 2022, Brian Flores's lawsuit against the NFL highlighted this issue, alleging he was subjected to "sham" interviews purely to satisfy the Rooney Rule requirement.

The persistence of these hiring disparities, despite two decades of the Rooney Rule, suggests that the problem runs deeper than what surface-level policy changes can address. The fact that we're still struggling with these issues twenty years later indicates that we haven't addressed the root causes of these disparities."

Recent modifications to the rule, including requirements for teams to interview multiple minority candidates and extending the rule to quarterback coach positions, represent attempts to strengthen its impact. However, critics argue these changes merely add complexity to a fundamentally flawed system that fails to address unconscious bias and established power structures within the league.

The Offensive-Defensive Divide: A Strategic Glass Ceiling

Perhaps one of the most telling patterns in NFL coaching demographics lies in the distribution of coordinators by race. In a league where offensive innovation drives success and headlines, Black coaches are disproportionately channeled into defensive coordinator positions, while offensive coordinator roles – often seen as the fast track to head coaching positions –remain predominantly white.

The numbers are stark: As of the 2024 season, only four of the NFL's 32 offensive coordinators are Black, compared to eleven Black defensive coordinators. This disparity becomes even more significant considering that 15 of the last 20 head coaching hires came from offensive backgrounds.

In today's NFL, offense is where power lies.

The offensive coordinator often has more direct influence on game outcomes, more media visibility, and more direct interaction with franchise quarterbacks. It's no coincidence that these positions remain largely inaccessible to Black coaches.

The implications of this pattern are far-reaching. In a league where scoring and offensive innovation dominate the conversation, relegating Black coaches primarily to defensive roles effectively creates a two-track system. While defensive coordinators can certainly become head coaches, the path is notably more challenging in today's offense-centric NFL.

Controlling the offense means controlling the most visible, marketable aspect of the game. It means shaping the team's identity and, ultimately, having significant influence over the franchise's direction. The systematic exclusion of Black coaches from these roles reflects a deeper reluctance to cede this level of control and influence.

This pattern becomes particularly noteworthy when examining successful Black head coaches who came from defensive backgrounds, like Mike Tomlin and Tony Dungy. Despite their success, the pipeline hasn't widened significantly for others following similar paths. Meanwhile, young white offensive coordinators often receive head coaching opportunities with far less experience.

The Path Forward

The NFL's diversity initiatives, while well-intentioned, have yet to address the underlying issues of retention and advancement. Progressive teams like the Oakland Raiders and Baltimore Ravens have demonstrated that long-term commitment to diverse leadership can yield sustained success.

As the league enters another hiring cycle, the spotlight on these disparities intensifies. The question remains: Will the NFL address not just who gets hired, but who gets to stay?