Adam Minter: A TikTok ban would harm college sports’ have-nots

On Friday, the Supreme Court will hear oral arguments over whether TikTok should be banned in the U.S. on Jan. 19. Mia Manson, a pole vaulter at the University of Michigan, will be paying attention. She earns thousands of dollars (and merchandise) by posting videos to the addictive social media site for brands like Sweetgreen Inc. and the prebiotic soda brand Poppi. If the Court upholds the ban, she told me during a recent phone call, “it will definitely hit my income.”

She’s right, and she’s not alone. For tens of thousands of college athletes, most of whom play lower-profile sports (pretty much anything other than football and basketball), social media is an essential tool for monetizing a brief college sports career. According to Bloomberg, it accounts for as much 80% of college athlete earnings from their name, image and likeness rights. Even if TikTok remains, the threat to ban it reveals that – four years into the NIL era – assurances that athletes can finally get paid are falling short. Standout headlines, such as recruits securing multimillion-dollar NIL packages, dominate college sports news coverage. But the disappointing reality for most college athletes is that they can’t earn money unless they hustle. If TikTok disappears, they’ll struggle to even do that.

To be clear, what’s emerged since the National Collegiate Athletic Association granted athletes the right to earn money has exceeded even the most optimistic projections. According to Opendorse, a leading NIL marketplace and platform which counts over 100,000 athletes among its users, the NIL marketplace has grown in value from $917 million in 2021-22 (the first year college athletes could be paid) to an expected $1.67 billion in 2024-25. For some athletes, mostly men who play football and basketball, the money is paid out like a salary by collectives of school boosters who pool money to recruit players. Some deals can be worth millions of dollars, reflecting a player’s ability to attract attention and revenue for his school.

The vast majority of college athletes, however, don’t play revenue- and attention-generating sports. So, school boosters aren’t ready to hand them fat four-year deals to take their talents to a campus.

If those athletes want to get paid, they need to develop personal brands and attract audiences that they can market to sponsors. The deals are commonly known as commercial NIL, and TikTok is by far the most efficient means to secure them.

In part, the advantage is demographic: 59% of U.S. adults under 30 – better known as Gen Z – use TikTok, according to Pew Research Center. Many in the generation don’t engage with traditional media, so advertisers are eager to find ways to get their attention on social platforms. But what makes TikTok particularly valuable is its algorithm. Unlike other social media sites, it doesn’t recommend posts based on how many followers a creator has (among other factors). Instead, TikTok recommends videos based on user preferences and current trends. As a result, a freshman track star with just a few followers can go viral – and accumulate a large following – by simply hitting upon an idea that appeals to a large interest group already identified by TikTok.

That following, in turn, can attract multiple commercial entities interested in sponsoring posts. For example, according to Opendorse, top-earning women’s volleyball players can expect to receive nearly 90 NIL deals per year.

Most of those contracts aren’t going to entail life-changing sums. According to a database of NIL deals disclosed to the NCAA in 2024, the median total athlete’s earnings at the Division I level (including football and basketball) was around $600. But Manson, the Michigan pole vaulter, provides an instructive example at the higher end of the commercial NIL marketplace. During her 2020-21 season, she began posting videos of her teammates before track meets. “People love seeing Michigan athletes,” she said. “And it blew up.” Following the lifting of the NCAA’s NIL ban, she began receiving offers to promote products. She has 225,000 followers on TikTok and 38,000 on Instagram, comprised in large part of college-age women and athletes. Sponsors, including CeraVe and Comcast Corp.’s Xfinity, pay her between $5,000 and $10,000 per post to promote their products.

It’s a nice gig, though not nearly as good as being paid outright by schools or being recruited with large offers. But so long as both of those possibilities remain either off-limits or out-of-reach, social media will have to do. Some schools have recognized the reality. The University of Colorado and Tulane University, for example, have invited TikTok to campus to educate athletes on how to create content and monetization opportunities.

A ban would end those initiatives and make it harder, especially for up-and-coming athletes who haven’t had the chance to build a fanbase, to get the attention of sponsors.

Perhaps Instagram or another site will figure out a way to emulate TikTok’s algorithm, or an entirely new form of self-promotion will emerge.

None of that should matter to proponents of a TikTok ban who see it as a national security imperative. They have bigger concerns. But for college athletes, it’s a reminder that getting compensated for their talents isn’t getting easier.

Adam Minter is a Bloomberg Opinion columnist covering the business of sports. He is the author, most recently, of “Secondhand: Travels in the New Global Garage Sale.”