Indifference by Design: NCAA’s Hollow Fix for Roster Cuts Now Threatens Its Own Settlement

The NCAA’s House v. NCAA settlement was supposed to be a landmark shift in the college athletics landscape—offering long-overdue compensation to past athletes, establishing future revenue sharing, and opening the door to a post-scholarship-cap era. But the way the NCAA and its partner institutions have handled the controversial roster limits portion of the agreement reveals a deeper issue: a systemic refusal to take responsibility for the harm already done to athletes.

And now, because of that refusal, the entire settlement may be on the verge of collapse.

A “Solution” That Solves Nothing

Let’s be clear: the roster limit issue is not some minor technical snag. It’s the single biggest threat to the approval of the $2.8 billion settlement. Athletes were cut from teams months before the agreement was even finalized, based on projections of how new roster caps would work. Their seasons were upended, eligibility thrown into question, and in many cases, coaches moved on without them.

So when Judge Claudia Wilken told the NCAA that no player should lose a roster spot because of the settlement, it was an opportunity to fix the damage.

Instead, what she got was a half-hearted patch.

The NCAA and class counsel proposed a workaround: create a new category of “designated student-athletes” who wouldn’t count against roster limits and allow—though not require—schools to take back affected players. This “solution,” as all three court-appointed objectors have now pointed out, doesn’t mandate anything. There’s no requirement to reinstate athletes. No obligation to hold a spot. No real consequence for the schools that jumped the gun.

In the words of objector attorney Laura Reathaford, it is a “meaningless” fix.

The Damage Was Premeditated

What makes this worse is that the schools acted before they had to. They cut athletes in anticipation of a settlement that had not yet been approved, treating rumor as law. In doing so, they caused irreparable harm: disrupted seasons, lost eligibility, and, for many, a complete derailment of their athletic careers.

Judge Wilken recognized this when she ordered lawyers to find a way to undo the harm. And yet the NCAA still balked at offering mandatory protections or reinstatements. According to objector attorney Steve Molo, “numerous” athletes have already been told their schools have no plans to reinstate them—even if allowed.

One coach, according to the brief, had already filled the spot with a new recruit. Another simply declined to respond to the inquiry at all.

This isn't just negligence. It's institutional indifference.

The NCAA’s Pattern:  Patch, Don’t Protect

This is becoming a theme in the NCAA’s approach to reform. Whether it's NIL, transfer rules, or athlete welfare, the strategy is to do just enough to claim progress—while avoiding structural changes that might limit institutional control or require actual investment in athlete support.

In the case of House, they’re offering damages to past athletes while actively putting current ones in worse positions. It’s a case of fixing the past while creating new problems in the present. It’s also a stark reminder of how reactive, rather than proactive, the NCAA continues to be.

As objector attorneys have noted, the solution offered is only “cold comfort” to athletes whose dreams and scholarships have already evaporated.

The Clock Is Ticking

The consequences of this resistance could be enormous. Judge Wilken has made it clear: either the NCAA comes back with a real fix, or she could reject the settlement entirely—sending the case to trial in September. That would open the door to a possible $12 billion antitrust judgment against the NCAA and plunge college sports into even greater uncertainty.

All because the NCAA wouldn’t do the one thing that might preserve this agreement: own the damage it already caused and guarantee protection for the athletes affected.

Now, the ball is in the NCAA’s court—again. They have until May 16 to respond. The question isn’t whether they can solve the problem. The question is whether they will.

So far, their record speaks for itself.

If there’s anything to learn from this chapter in the saga of college sports reform, it’s that until there are binding, enforceable structures that prioritize athlete rights—whether through a collective bargaining agreement, federal oversight, or independent governance—schools will always choose to protect themselves first.

And athletes, once again, will be left cleaning up the mess.