Like many, perhaps most, Americans, I had never heard of the professional football quarterback Colin Kaepernick until he became better known for kneeling before games than for throwing passes during games.
The kneeling, of course, was done when his teammates were standing for the National Anthem, and Kaepernick explained that his defiant gesture was intended as an act of solidarity with the nascent Black Lives Matter movement. Since then, he has extended his purview: In interviews and declarations on social media, Kaepernick has explained that he is not just angry about abuse of police power—the ostensible rationale for Black Lives Matter—but about America in general, an idea and society which seems to fall short of his standards. He has not been reticent about his opinions, and some of his gestures aimed at the police—wearing socks adorned with pigs, for example—have been provocative, to say the least.
Most professional athletes who are also political “activists” tend to be better known for their politics than their athleticism. To be sure, there are exceptions—Bill Walton of basketball fame comes to mind—but Kaepernick now seems destined to fall into that category.
I am reliably informed that Kaepernick is a decent quarterback. But he has not been offered a contract to play this season in the National Football League. No surprise here. For the most part, NFL fans don’t seem to appreciate millionaire athletes who routinely insult their country. And most owners of NFL teams don’t seem like the kind of people who embrace political radicals. Above all, and perhaps most important, they are business owners: If Kaepernick were a better quarterback than he appears to be, one or two of them might be willing to risk criticism—perhaps even anger—from fans if Kaepernick were offered a contract.
I should, at this juncture, declare the obvious: That Colin Kaepernick is fully entitled to his opinions, just as those who admire or disdain him are entitled to theirs. I should also mention that, to some degree, I share his concerns about police misconduct and accountability—and tend to think that playing “The Star-Spangled Banner” at professional athletic contests is not necessarily a national sacrament. Moreover, I have no idea whether Kaepernick’s idle status at this late stage in the pre-season is a consequence of his failing powers or the disapproval of team owners.
But because there is a growing movement from sports journalists and political organizations in search of a cause to threaten boycotts and harassment unless Kaepernick plays this season, one salient point must be made. It might well be true that the NFL owners have decided, individually or collectively, to keep him out of their league because they find his opinions repellent. But that is their right, and prerogative. The National Football League may be many things, but it is not a public agency; and while team owners are obviously subject to the law, they are accountable to public opinion or press campaigns or fan boycotts only to the extent that they choose to be.
If owners decide to be churlish, or vindictive, or to stand on principle, they are free to do so. Conversely, and equally obviously, Colin Kaepernick may be right and may be brave as well, but has no right to play in the NFL. And if you’re among his admirers, you can add his willingness to risk his career to the bill of particulars.
Suppose, after all, if Kaepernick’s opinions were not fashionably progressive. At the moment, we find ourselves in a culture where unfashionable opinions are routinely condemned and the people who hold them are socially shunned, professionally punished, even physically attacked. Some opinions, of course, deserve to be anathema; but who is to decide who should be sanctioned, and who should not be? Colin Kaepernick wants to be provocateur and beneficiary at the same time. But he is learning that the power of defiance lies in sacrifice, not cynicism.
Philip Terzian is a senior editor at The Weekly Standard.
