By Khadija Tembo, November 7 2025—
The NFL knows how to sell out a show, but can it sell real change? Behind the spectacle of the Halftime Show and the carefully managed optics of league politics, a quiet culture war is being waged.
For decades, the NFL has presented itself as more than just a sports league, but a stage for a very specific vision of America. Built on white-picket fences, performative patriotism, rigid masculinity and traditional family values, the league has long reflected not the diversity of its audience, but the comfort zone of those who have always held cultural power. From the choreographed military flyovers to flag-draped fields, beer ads soaked in heteronormative bravado, and halftime shows that once tiptoed around controversy, the NFL has sold an image of America as much as it has sold football.
And that image is not neutral; it is deliberate. It has been a profitable fortress, reinforcing who gets to feel represented and who gets told they do not belong. But what happens when someone disrupts this “ideal” image — when the political climate and values of its audience begin to shift? Does the NFL cling to its old playbook, or does it adapt to survive?
With the bending of a knee in 2016, Colin Kaepernick began to show the cracks in the NFL’s carefully crafted image. His simple but bold stance against police brutality and racial injustice perpetuated against African Americans ignited a nationwide debate about the place of politics and social justice in American football. The NFL responded by insisting it was not a political organization, and in doing so, shut out Kaepernick from future games. The act caused him to lose sponsors and receive condemnation from the public — it was a move that ultimately reinforced conservative norms in the league.
But what happened to Kaepernick was not just about one man taking a knee. It exposed how the NFL moves when the cameras are not rolling. Behind the patriotic fanfare and polished shows sits a league run by a small, overwhelmingly white group of billionaire owners who treat politics as a liability.
Dissent was not engaged with: it was managed, contained or erased.
However, just a few short years later, the NFL began to pivot. In 2019, it officially launched its “Inspire Change” social justice initiative. But was this a political awakening or simply a calculated move to keep pace with the shifting attitudes of its audience? It’s worth noting that while the league began making donations to social justice causes during this time, it never offered Kaepernick an apology or reinstatement.
That same year, Roc Nation — owned by rapper and business mogul Jay-Z — took over production of the Super Bowl Halftime Show, one of the NFL’s most visible and influential cultural stages. This marked a shift not just in performance quality but also messaging.
The Halftime Show became a stage for cultural and ideological struggle during performances by Shakira and Jennifer Lopez in 2020 that signalled Latinx pride, or a visibly pregnant Rihanna in 2023 rejecting societal expectations of motherhood and femininity.
This shift was most evident during Kendrick Lamar’s 2025 Halftime Show performance. Known for his sharp political commentary, Lamar layered his set with imagery and themes that addressed police brutality, racial injustice and systemic inequality. For those paying close attention, it was a masterclass in subtle but powerful cultural critique.
The recent announcement that Bad Bunny will headline the 2026 Super Bowl Halftime Show further underscores this shift. A Puerto Rican national and vocal critic of colonialism, Bad Bunny has consistently utilized his platform to raise awareness about political issues in Puerto Rico. As an advocate for the LGBTQ+ community, he has also challenged gender norms by performing in skirts, painted nails and drag in his music videos and live performances.
This choice of performer stands in stark contrast to the NFL’s historically hypermasculine, conservative image. It can be viewed as a bold decision or interpreted as a strategic move. Bad Bunny’s popularity among Gen Z, millennial and Latinx audiences makes him a strategic asset for a league seeking to stay relevant with younger, more diverse viewers.
And the heads of the NFL are no fools. They know the league’s future depends on its ability to adapt to its shifting audience. Holding onto its conservative, masculine ideals risks alienating a new generation of fans who are more diverse, more politically aware and less tolerant of performative gestures. But selecting artists like Bad Bunny signals cultural fluency, not necessarily cultural alignment or value-based change. It allows the NFL to benefit from the aesthetics of activism without committing to its substance.
This all raises the question: Is this authentic change or just clever corporate rebranding?
Audience members should remain critical. True progress means transformation behind the scenes, not just in front of the camera. Until the NFL openly and actively embraces the politics behind the performers it features, the league, its football and the Halftime Show will remain simply entertainment and nothing more.
Bad Bunny — like Kendrick Lamar before him and those who may come after — may reshape the stage, but changing the league itself is a far taller order. After all, this is the same league that ostracized Colin Kaepernick for protesting injustice, then a few years later branded itself as a champion of social justice. Real change would mean more than hashtags and halftime shows: it would mean publicly acknowledging and apologizing for the harm done to Kaepernick, creating anti-retaliation protections for players who engage in peaceful protest or political speech, diversifying leadership, and making sustained, transparent investments in the communities the league claims to support.
Until this happens, the stage may look different, but make no mistake — the playbook is the same.
This article is a part of our Opinions section and does not necessarily reflect the views of the Gauntlet editorial board.