The Contractual Human

Name, Image, and Likeness.

Three simple words that will inevitably change far more than college athletics. A proclamation of identity.

The public discussion surrounding N.I.L. has largely focused on fairness. Should athletes be compensated for the value they create? Should universities have profited and coaches signed multimillion-dollar contracts while players, who have a lot more at risk, received little or nothing?

What about the public investment that built these institutions to begin with? How has it been removed from the equation? Was there some kind of universal collective agreement passed by all the citizens of every state involved that allowed these institutions to circumvent the very structures designed as checks and balances? That would be a monumental contractual achievement in itself. Or did these institutions move toward self-governance, using public funds to build empires of their own making?

These are important questions, and even reasonable people can disagree about the answers.

The debate has also revealed how quickly every stakeholder seeks to redefine their share once value becomes negotiable. Never mind the passionate fan or booster who just wants their team to win.

That is precisely the pattern Moral Science sees. The system has changed, and human behavior is attempting to adapt. Within that adaptation are different motivations: those who have the talent, those who don't need incentive, and those who want the incentive but lack the talent to command it.

The system can become disrupted, particularly when the desire for reward leads to manipulation, posturing, or other attempts to upset the balance in favor of one over another.

What interests me is something much deeper. N.I.L. represents another step in humanity's transition toward what I'm calling the Contractual Human.

For most of history, integrity in many relationships was built upon layers of obligation that extended beyond written agreements. Family, community, loyalty, reputation, gratitude, mentorship, and shared identity all carried weight.

While contracts certainly existed, they were often reinforced by one's word: honor, trust, respect, and legacy.

Today, contracts increasingly replace relationships. The college athlete represented school pride, tradition, and team identity. Today, high-profile athletes also represent personal brands, endorsement opportunities, transfer leverage, and financial negotiations. None of this necessarily makes them selfish. In many cases, they are simply responding professionally to the incentives placed before them.

This is even making its way down to local school and club levels, becoming a consideration in many parents' minds. The perception of value has shifted. Rather than Homecoming or Senior Day, contributions become monetarily measurable at a young age. Relationships are becoming individually negotiable. Human athletic potential becomes an asset with a market value rather than simply an expression of ability, an endeavor to prove oneself, or participation in a tradition.

It is only a matter of time before this redefines other aspects of the agreements we have with one another.

More than ever, people are being moved toward incentives that appear to maximize security, opportunity, and reward, pushing institutions to reward contractual thinking and making it increasingly common. Over time, the mindset may spread far beyond the environment where it seems to have begun.

This changes the rules. Business becomes transactional. Friendships become superficial. Employment becomes temporary. Communities become independent systems and networks. Marriage becomes conditional and negotiable. Loyalty is perceived as carrying a very high price tag.

This does not mean contracts are wrong.

Contracts are valuable because they clarify expectations, reduce misunderstanding, and establish accountability. They are among civilization's greatest legal tools. In almost every case, we should all have one. Clear expectations protect both parties, reduce unnecessary conflict, and, more importantly, promote fairness on both sides.

The danger appears when contracts replace character. When they do, even the contract itself can become secondary when something better comes along.

No contract can manufacture trust. No legal document can create loyalty. No signature can guarantee honor. No financial agreement can produce genuine respect. Those qualities emerge long before ink ever touches paper. However, no contract should ever take character for granted either.

This is where Moral Science becomes useful. Rather than asking whether contracts are good or bad, Moral Science asks different questions. What kind of behavior do they encourage? What kind of behaviors will emerge as these incentives continue?

These questions matter far more than today's headlines. A system that makes its own rules in order to circumvent existing ones has very few standards by which to hold itself accountable.

If every relationship becomes primarily contractual, then every relationship becomes vulnerable to whoever offers the next better contract or, worse, to those who find ways to circumvent it. Trust weakens. Commitment weakens. Community weakens. The market grows stronger while the social fabric grows thinner.

This does not mean people should reject opportunity. It means opportunity should never become the only measure of value. Nor should only a few hold the pen and paper that decide it.

In The Stranger Secret, I explored this idea in a chapter titled The Pacer in the Race. Not everyone assigns value in the same way. For some, purpose outweighs profit. For others, loyalty outweighs leverage. Recognition, belonging, contribution, mastery, and meaning often motivate people more deeply than compensation alone. A society that measures every contribution exclusively in financial terms gradually loses sight of the many forms of value that cannot be bought.

Earlier I wrote that loyalty should never become a liability. The opposite is equally true. Contracts should never become a substitute for character.

Perhaps the deeper distinction is not between contracts and character, but between transactions and relationships. A transaction asks, "What do I get?" A relationship asks, "What can I contribute?" Contracts and agreements can add to relationships.

Societies have long attempted to balance both. Contracts and agreements protect individual rights and establish obligations, while relationships depend upon virtues that no contract can require.

They should never replace our word or the handshake between two people who honor it. In the end, the only change may be that instead of a period with two zeroes, we use a percentage sign.

Trouble comes when people take advantage of character, seeing it as an opportunity to prosper from an unwritten part of an agreement or from those unwilling to require one.

Balance is the defining challenge of every generation of any civilization. It seems we always fail to factor in the Optessimist who is lurking. The con or the cheater, as we called them on the playground in grade school. The one looking to change the rules so they can win.

N.I.L. is not merely changing college sports. It is revealing the direction in which society as a whole is already moving.

The question is not whether we will continue writing contracts. In almost every case, we should. The question is whether we will continue being people whose word is worth more than what is written on the paper.

And whether we will keep allowing the Optessimist to weave their way into every aspect of our lives.

That is our next collective step in moral evolution as a species: not allowing those of lesser character to undo the progress we make in moving ahead, creating the same circular patterns we have repeatedly struggled to move beyond.