Some people have been conditioned to consider what the law actually allows rather than just what one hopes it permits. Similarly, others focus on the underlying incentives behind stories rather than what might be most comforting. These ways of thinking often connect in unexpected ways.
The ongoing conversation in the NBA about whether teams “build” or “buy” championships is really a distraction. This conversation suggests two morally different approaches to achieving success, but in reality, that’s not the case. Resources are simply allocated based on existing constraints.
Teams that “build” aren’t necessarily virtuous; they just face different limitations compared to those that “buy” success. On the flip side, the term “buy team” doesn’t imply recklessness; rather, these teams are responding to price signals within the allowed framework.
Let’s break it down: if a team can spend money to gain value, they absolutely will. When they’re restricted from doing that, they’ll look for other options. This isn’t just a theory; it’s basic behavior.
The Spurs are often considered patient and disciplined, but more accurately, they have made consistent, low-risk bets and waited long enough for the odds to turn in their favor. Take Manu Ginobili as an example, illustrating how the rewards for players acquired at below-market costs can outweigh their price. That’s essentially the point.
The Golden State Warriors appear different at first glance, but really, they’re simply using their resources wisely, drafting well, and holding value when the rules permit consolidation. There’s nothing magical about their success.
Some view Brooklyn’s situation as a cautionary tale regarding “buying a championship.” This is rather sentimental. What transpired in Brooklyn was a case of management miscalculating risk, paying too much for uncertain outcomes—like stars nearing injury risks or volatile personal dynamics—and getting predictable results back. The market adapts regardless; I just don’t appreciate the costs involved.
Here’s a truth many hesitate to articulate: the NBA doesn’t function as a free market. It’s governed by explicit price controls and collective agreements between owners and players aimed at ensuring competitive balance. However, good intentions don’t alter market behavior. These constraints still act as price limitations, leading to predictable distortions.
Maximum contracts effectively cap the salaries of top players. Salary caps restrict how capital can be used. Luxury taxes penalize extra spending. The result? There’s rampant demand for star players, risky merger bets, and teams prioritizing timing over consistently smart choices.
This drives the creation of superteams and sudden roster changes mid-season—not because management is out of touch, but because they’re responding logically to the skewed pricing.
In this setup, patience doesn’t hold much value. Sometimes, playing the waiting game is indeed the best strategy, particularly when mispriced assets emerge.
Take Oklahoma City, often cited as an example of the “right path” to building. It doesn’t. It merely demonstrates that accumulating assets over time can provide a competitive edge. That doesn’t carry any moral weight.
Then there’s Philadelphia, under Daryl Morey—a cautionary tale of ambition. Their approach can be viewed as just a matter of taking risks within limits. Some choices turned out well; others didn’t. Recently, after a solid second-round performance, Philadelphia decided to part ways with Morey, even with two years remaining on his contract. This aligns more with market discipline than what many financial institutions typically accomplish.
At the heart of the matter is simplicity. Championships aren’t something that you can just build or buy. They emerge as temporary outcomes of capital distribution within a constrained pricing environment. Alter the constraints, and the outcomes will shift. Blaming “culture” or “personality” for what ultimately boils down to basic math is misleading.
This isn’t overly complicated: compensate players based on their true value, allow owners to spend freely, and ensure accountability for outcomes. Whether this would lead to improved competitive balance is debatable, but it would certainly illuminate the trade-offs involved.
The market doesn’t promise optimal results; it rarely does. But a good analysis can shed light on important trade-offs. In the NBA, like many other places, that visibility often falls victim to control.
