Craig Carmoney’s BLOG

By Craig Carmoney

A Punishment Without Proof

The NCAA’s treatment of the University of Michigan in the so-called “Signgate” scandal has been nothing short of extraordinary—not for the strength of its case, but for its utter lack of one. In a world where allegations can travel faster than facts, the NCAA appears content to levy punishment first and search for justification later. Yet when one examines the details, the reality is glaring: the NCAA has presented no concrete evidence that Michigan engaged in systemic wrongdoing worthy of sanction.

This absence of proof is not a minor procedural hiccup. It goes to the very heart of due process, fairness, and credibility. If the NCAA were ever forced to defend its actions in court, the organization would be walking into a battle armed with little more than conjecture.

The Legal Landscape: Due Process vs. NCAA Procedure

Universities that challenge the NCAA rarely do so lightly. The NCAA has historically relied on a playbook of secrecy, selective enforcement, and public relations pressure to avoid external oversight. But courts operate differently. In legal proceedings, claims must be supported by evidence, testimony must withstand cross-examination, and documents must survive discovery.

The fundamental weakness of the NCAA’s “Signgate” allegations is that they rest on circumstantial claims and hearsay. There is no hard data proving Michigan gained a measurable competitive advantage through sign-stealing, nor is there evidence tying any alleged scouting activities directly to the head coach or athletic department leadership.

History shows courts do not hesitate to scrutinize the NCAA when fairness is at stake. In NCAA v. Tarkanian the Supreme Court acknowledged that the NCAA is not above external review.¹ More recently, in NCAA v. Alston, the Court unanimously ruled against the NCAA, finding its restrictions on athlete compensation violated antitrust law.² And in O’Bannon v. NCAA, the Ninth Circuit struck down the NCAA’s amateurism model as inconsistent with federal law.³

In each case, the NCAA’s arguments collapsed under the weight of legal scrutiny. The same fate would likely await any attempt to defend the baseless punishment of Michigan.

Discovery: The NCAA’s Worst Nightmare

Should Michigan press its case in litigation, discovery would become the NCAA’s Achilles’ heel. Lawyers for the university would gain the right to subpoena internal communications, emails, and investigative notes. Every inconsistency, every moment of selective enforcement, and every lack of substantiation would be laid bare.

The NCAA has a long history of avoiding this kind of exposure. In the Penn State litigation following the Sandusky scandal, the NCAA quickly retreated from its aggressive posture when discovery threatened to reveal internal deliberations.⁴ Similar dynamics occurred in Todd McNair v. NCAA, where a former USC assistant coach challenged the NCAA’s handling of the Reggie Bush investigation. Once forced into court, the NCAA settled after its investigatory flaws became impossible to defend.⁵

The Michigan case would be no different. The prospect of depositions, sworn testimony, and document dumps would almost certainly push the NCAA to retreat quickly.

Selective Outrage and Hypocrisy

Another glaring issue is the NCAA’s selective outrage. Sign-stealing—whether through film study, observation, or sideline analysis—has long been part of the fabric of football. Many programs employ elaborate systems for decoding opponent signals. Yet the NCAA has singled out Michigan for punishment in a way that ignores the widespread nature of these practices.

This inconsistency strengthens Michigan’s position. Courts do not look kindly on organizations that punish one party for conduct tolerated or overlooked elsewhere. Selective enforcement is often cited as a due process violation in administrative law,⁶ and the NCAA has no credible explanation for why Michigan alone should bear the brunt of punishment for something so common across the sport.

The Likely Outcome: Settlement, Not Vindication

If Michigan forces the NCAA into court, the result would almost certainly be a settlement. The NCAA has too much to lose by pressing a weak case under judicial scrutiny. Settling allows the organization to save face, avoid disclosure of embarrassing details, and spin the outcome as a negotiated resolution rather than an outright defeat.

For Michigan, such a settlement would represent quiet vindication. The program could move forward without the stain of unproven allegations, while the NCAA would be left grappling with the credibility damage it inflicted upon itself.

The Bigger Picture: Legitimacy on the Line

The “Signgate” episode is not just about Michigan. It is about whether the NCAA retains any legitimacy as an enforcement body. An organization that punishes without evidence undermines the very concept of fair play it claims to uphold. Its willingness to act on rumor rather than fact erodes trust among member institutions, athletes, and fans alike.

The University of Michigan deserves better. College athletics deserves better. And until the NCAA commits to evidence-based enforcement, its authority will remain fragile, its credibility suspect, and its punishments vulnerable to collapse.

Conclusion

The NCAA’s case against Michigan is a house built on sand—unsupported, unsustainable, and destined to crumble if tested in the courts. That is why a settlement, not vindication, is the NCAA’s most likely path forward. But make no mistake: the real lesson of “Signgate” is not about signs, scouts, or schemes. It is about an enforcement body that has lost its way, and a university strong enough to stand against it.

Endnotes

NCAA v. Tarkanian, 488 U.S. 179 (1988). NCAA v. Alston, 594 U.S. ___ (2021). O’Bannon v. NCAA, 802 F.3d 1049 (9th Cir. 2015). See Commonwealth of Pennsylvania v. NCAA, No. 1:13-CV-00006 (M.D. Pa. 2013) (litigation related to NCAA’s sanctions against Penn State). Todd McNair v. NCAA, Los Angeles Superior Court Case No. BC462891 (settled 2018). See, e.g., Yick Wo v. Hopkins, 118 U.S. 356 (1886) (establishing the principle that selective enforcement violates due process and equal protection).