In today’s college football landscape, the conversation around team building has too often drifted toward dollar signs. With NIL collectives rising in power and players empowered to chase the highest bidder, the traditional ideas of development, culture, and competition have found themselves on unstable footing at many programs. But in Eugene, Dan Lanning has planted his flag in a different kind of ground — one rooted not in buying rosters, but in building culture.
It’s easy to fall into the trap of assuming that Oregon’s ascension under Lanning is tied solely to NIL influence. The Ducks have certainly embraced the new era — they’re active, competitive, and well-funded when it comes to attracting talent. But what separates Oregon isn’t the money. It’s the message.
Over the weekend, I mentioned a point that continues to prove itself in both the transfer portal and in locker rooms across the country: the real benefit of what Lanning is building at Oregon is based on a rejection of the popular outside narrative. This is not simply a program stockpiling high-priced talent in a spending spree. It’s a program carefully balancing resources with responsibility — a team culture that values performance, accountability, and unity over ego.
That restraint matters more than people realize. When a program leans too heavily on financial lures to build its starting lineup, it doesn’t just risk wasting resources — it risks eroding the foundation of competition itself. If the best-paying deals go exclusively to starters before they’ve even earned it on the field, what does that say to the second-stringer working just as hard? The result is a culture defined by entitlement at the top and resentment below. The depth chart becomes more about contracts than competition, and the locker room fractures.
Contrast that with Oregon. Lanning’s message has been consistent from the start: earn it first. NIL isn’t ignored — it’s embraced — but the emphasis is placed on value as defined by contribution, growth, and accountability. Players who perform will benefit. Players who lead will rise. That expectation sets the tone for everything else.
We’ve seen what happens when this balance is disrupted. I’m not privy to every detail surrounding Nico Iamaleava’s situation at Tennessee, but the signs are there. Whether the issue stemmed from a perceived broken promise or frustration over the massive deal reportedly given to Carson Beck in the portal, the foundation cracked. The Vols, to their credit, managed their 2024 season without major issues and looked unified from the outside. But the moment the offseason arrived, the seams began to show.
Tennessee made a tough call — and, in my opinion, the right one — by refusing to renegotiate. That sent a signal not only to their own locker room but across the college football landscape: culture still matters. Promises can’t replace process. And when money becomes the only language spoken in the huddle, you lose the heart of the team.
This is where Oregon continues to shine. Not because the Ducks don’t spend — they do. But because they’ve resisted the impulse to lead with the wallet. Instead, the Ducks lead with expectation, clarity, and buy-in. It’s a philosophy that sets a clear tone for both incoming recruits and veterans: NIL rewards are a result, not a prerequisite.
There’s reason to believe the coming revenue-sharing era will ease some of these tensions. Standardized contracts and more transparent compensation structures could help level the emotional playing field. But that won’t fix culture on its own. If money remains the first — or only — reason a player chooses a school, locker room cohesion will always be fragile. What Oregon has done is provide a blueprint for how to win in the new age: culture first, compensation second, and accountability always.
The numbers may vary, the media noise may swell, but in the long run, the teams that win championships are built from the inside out. Dan Lanning isn’t just recruiting players — he’s building a culture that can sustain success, weather adversity, and stay rooted when the winds of NIL chaos blow strongest.
And in this era of college football, that might be the most valuable asset of all.
