A little over a decade ago, Duke professor Dan Ariely published The (Honest) Truth About Dishonesty, a bestselling book exploring the small ways people cheat — and how they rationalize it. But in a cruel twist, Ariely’s own work was recently discredited after it was revealed that key data in the book was fabricated.

In most corners of higher education, this kind of ethical breach leads to professional exile. But in college athletics? Cheating is often just a detour on the road to promotion.

Nowhere is this more apparent than in the bloated bureaucracies of NCAA sports. Under the doctrine of “institutional control,” athletic departments are tasked with upholding the values of the universities they represent. That’s the theory. In practice, many schools pour two to three times more into sports administration than into scholarships, some spending upwards of $30 million on compliance and oversight alone. With that kind of investment, one might expect rigorous enforcement of the rules. But the reality? College athletics is a system where ethical lines blur, and cheating isn’t punished — it’s normalized.

To gauge just how bad things are, I conducted a small but revealing survey in 2023. I asked 50 Division I college golf coaches four straightforward questions. Thirty-nine responded. Here’s what they said:

1. Do you believe there is cheating in college golf?

100% said “Yes.”

2. Do you have faith that reporting a transgression would trigger a proper investigation?

Only 32% did.

3. Do coaches fear reprisals for speaking up?

20% said “Yes.”

4. Would your administration support you if you reported a fellow coach?

85% believed they would.

These numbers are damning. Two-thirds of coaches doubt the reporting process works. One in five fears retaliation for doing the right thing. And nearly as many question whether their own institutions have their backs.

Several coaches brought up the 2023 Golf Coaches Association of America Hall of Fame class as a prime example of this ethical erosion. One inductee had previously been penalized for 64 impermissible recruiting contacts with prospects and their families between 2012 and 2013. The NCAA gave him a four-year show-cause penalty — essentially a ban from coaching. Yet just a decade later, he was honored with a Hall of Fame induction. Somewhere, Pete Rose is shaking his head.

These contradictions cut to the heart of higher education’s mission. Colleges are supposed to prepare students for the real world — a world that demands good judgment, moral clarity, and resilience. Instead, we’re teaching student-athletes that power excuses misconduct and that cheating is not just tolerated, but rewarded.

In law, we trust precedent — stare decisis — to guide future judgments. In NCAA governance, Tarkanian v. NCAA (1988) established that schools bear the burden of institutional control. But the data from 2023 suggests that model has failed. If the people responsible for oversight are unwilling — or unable — to enforce the rules, what exactly are they controlling?

Dan Ariely may never work in academia again, and perhaps he shouldn’t. But the coaches who cheat in plain sight? They get second chances, new jobs, and even Hall of Fame plaques. This isn’t just hypocrisy. It’s a systemic failure. And if it’s happening in college golf — the least scrutinized of NCAA sports — what do we imagine is happening in football and basketball?

The honest truth about dishonesty in college athletics is that it’s not an anomaly. It’s a tactic. For too many in charge, it’s working exactly as intended.