What We Mean by “Role Model”
The phrase “role model” comes with baggage and in 2026, it’s heavier than ever. Social platforms run the show, careers are built on visibility, and every misstep gets archived forever. When we say athletes should be role models, what is it we’re really asking? Is it about image, activism, personal choices, or just playing the game well? The answer depends on who you ask and what you expect.
Today’s cultural landscape doesn’t make it easy to draw a clean line between public figures and private citizens. Athletes, especially the ones with major followings, live in a space where there’s no “off” button. Their breakfast choices trend. Their opinions on climate policy get analyzed before their next game stats. And while some lean into that spotlight with intention, others never asked for it. Fame doesn’t come with a user manual, but everyone still watches like it should.
So are we asking too much? Maybe. Or maybe we’re just asking the wrong question. Rather than expect perfection, maybe it’s time to redefine what influence really looks like flawed, human, and lived out in full view.
The Case For: Influence Beyond the Game
Discipline. Resilience. Work ethic. These aren’t just words tossed around in locker rooms they’re traits young fans absorb when watching their favorite athletes push through adversity. Whether it’s a grueling comeback from injury or training before sunrise, the routines and mindset of elite performers can ripple far beyond the playing field.
But influence doesn’t end there. Athletes are pushing deeper into public conversations. When figures like Megan Rapinoe or Marcus Rashford speak up, it’s not just a tweet it’s a trigger for public discourse. Some bring visibility to inequality, others advocate for mental health or education equity. When handled with intention, their platforms amplify causes that often struggle for airtime.
And it’s not only during interviews or awareness campaigns. Sometimes leadership shows up in smaller, steadier ways like Giannis Antetokounmpo’s humility, or Sue Bird mentoring teammates off the court. These aren’t just gestures; they’re blueprints for character. The point isn’t perfection it’s presence.
Zoom out, and sports act like a culture lab. Teams, fans, even brands watch and often follow where athletes lead. Whether sparking conversations around race, gender, or sustainable business, the influence stretches into civic life. It’s not just about wins it’s about what those wins represent.
For more on how athlete fan dynamics are evolving, see the related feature: Evolution of Fan Engagement: Are We Witnessing a New Era in Sports?.
The Case Against: Unrealistic Expectations
Athletes Are Performers Not Perfect People
Athletes train to compete, not to be moral compasses for society. While their visibility puts them in a powerful position to influence, it’s often forgotten that they didn’t sign up to be role models they signed up to play.
Athletic excellence doesn’t guarantee personal perfection
Expecting moral leadership may place an unfair emotional burden on individuals
Athletes are often navigating fame, pressure, and personal growth simultaneously
The Weight of Constant Visibility
In today’s 24/7 digital culture, every word, gesture, or private mistake can be captured and amplified within seconds. The age of livestreams, smartphones, and social media leaves little room for error and little space for growth.
Increased exposure brings elevated scrutiny and reduced privacy
Online backlash can distort public perception and isolate athletes
One misstep can define a career even when the context is misunderstood
When the Pedestal Backfires
Putting athletes on a pedestal turns admiration into surveillance. Society often holds them to higher standards than lawmakers, educators, or even role models by profession. This imbalance creates a trap: adoration turns to condemnation the moment they fall short.
Hero worship can lead to rapid disillusionment
Scandals even off the field are judged more harshly than in other careers
Fans may feel betrayed by behavior that ultimately reflects human imperfection
The Danger of Confusing Talent with Character
Just because someone excels on the field doesn’t mean they should be expected to lead moral conversations off it. Equating athletic talent with ethical authority can set unrealistic and often destructive standards.
Skill and character are not always aligned
Misjudging athletes as moral figures may shift attention away from their actual craft
Role model expectations should consider the difference between influence and intention
The Middle Ground: Authenticity Over Idealism
Forget the squeaky clean image. Today’s most respected athletes aren’t perfect they’re real. From revealing mental health struggles to owning bad plays and off field missteps, athletes are shifting from idealized icons to relatable humans. Being a role model now means showing up flawed, not filtered.
That shift matters. A curated highlight reel might earn likes, but honesty earns trust. When a star admits to pressure or doubt, it resonates more than any endorsement ever could. This isn’t about oversharing or brand strategy it’s about connection. Fans don’t just want skill; they want someone who feels like them.
Experts like Dr. Rae Lin, a performance psychologist, argue that integrity isn’t about image maintenance it’s about being consistent on and off camera. “Authenticity is sustainable. Perfection isn’t,” she says. Coaches and league reps echo the same: fans invest in athletes when they see a full picture not just the victories.
Younger athletes are leading the way. They’re turning down the PR gloss in favor of openness. Whether it’s a WNBA rookie vlogging through self doubt, or a high school prospect pushing accountability over branding, the next gen isn’t buying into old school hero worship. They’re rewriting what leadership looks like. And it’s a lot more human.
What Parents, Coaches, and Leagues Can Do
Expecting athletes to somehow be perfect people just because they can dunk a basketball or break a sprint record is a trap. Still, they do influence how young people see the world especially in the hyper connected, content fed reality of today. Which means the people guiding those young fans need to step up.
Media literacy isn’t just a classroom buzzword; it’s baseline survival in a world where highlight reels and hot takes can shape identity. Parents and coaches have to help kids understand the difference between performance and personhood between the athlete they admire on screen and the actual human behind it. Conversations matter. So does exposure to a broader mix of voices and stories, not just the polished or tragic headlines.
At the same time, the burden on athletes is real. Being treated like a brand 24/7 can grind someone down. Leagues and teams need to do more than post statements they need systems: mental health support, mentorship for rising stars, media coaching that emphasizes authenticity over PR jargon. It’s not about shielding athletes from criticism, but arming them with tools to deal with the spotlight without losing themselves in the process.
Responsibility is part of the package that comes with fame, yes. But it has to be balanced by compassion. You can hold someone accountable and still treat them like a human being.
Looking Ahead to 2027 and Beyond
Name, Image, and Likeness (NIL) deals have flipped the script on athlete influence. No longer dependent on pro level contracts or legacy shoe deals, today’s athletes especially college level craft personal brands early and on their own terms. TikTok, YouTube, and Instagram have become more than just highlight reels. They’re platforms for storytelling, opinion, and sometimes activism.
But with power comes pressure. Audiences now expect more than clean jump shots and endzone dances. They want alignment. Athletes who align their content with clear values whether it’s mental health advocacy, sustainability, or local community work build deeper loyalty. The flip side? Silence or inconsistency can alienate.
Transparency is currency now. Fans want to know what you stand for and why you’re promoting what you promote. They’re less forgiving of carefully Photoshopped personas and more drawn to those who show up unfiltered. The line between influencer and athlete is gone. In its place is a new kind of public figure: one part performer, one part brand manager, one part human being.
So maybe the question isn’t whether athletes should be role models. It’s how they choose to carry the responsibility. Are they building something meaningful? Are they using their platform with intention? In 2027 and beyond, that’s what will separate the impactful from the forgettable.