The NBA's tanking epidemic has reached new heights this season, with several franchises openly sacrificing wins in pursuit of premium draft position. The upcoming 2026 draft class, brimming with generational talent, has intensified this race to the bottom, prompting widespread criticism from former players and analysts alike. Among the most vocal critics is Richard Jefferson, who has not only condemned the practice but proposed an innovative solution borrowed from international soccer.
Jefferson's critique centers on how transparently certain organizations are embracing strategic losing. Rather than simply pointing fingers, however, the former NBA champion has put forward a compelling alternative that would fundamentally restructure the league's incentive system. His proposal draws inspiration from European soccer leagues, where teams eliminated from championship contention face different motivations.
The core of Jefferson's idea is simple yet revolutionary: reward teams for winning even after playoff elimination. Under the current system, a franchise mathematically removed from postseason contention has every reason to lose its remaining games. Each defeat improves their lottery odds and increases the probability of landing a franchise-altering prospect. Jefferson argues this creates a perverse dynamic that undermines competitive integrity.
The proposed mechanism would flip this script. When a team is eliminated with, say, ten games remaining, their performance in those final contests would directly impact their draft positioning—but in reverse. A 6-4 record to close the season would earn better lottery odds than an 0-10 finish. The team that continues competing hard despite elimination would be rewarded, while the squad that blatantly tanks would be penalized with lower draft position.
"They're doing what they're supposed to do," Jefferson acknowledged, recognizing the rationality behind current tanking strategies. Using the Utah Jazz as a prime example, he noted how organizations will endure short-term criticism and losing seasons if it means securing a transformative talent like the highly-touted prospect from BYU expected to enter the 2026 draft. Historical precedents like LeBron James returning to Cleveland or Derrick Rose joining his hometown Chicago Bulls demonstrate how a single player can reshape a franchise's entire trajectory.
This pragmatic acknowledgment that teams are merely responding to existing incentives forms the foundation of Jefferson's argument. The problem isn't moral failure but systemic design. When the rules reward losing, organizations will logically pursue that path, regardless of how it impacts the fan experience or league credibility.
Jefferson's soccer analogy, while not perfectly articulated, points to a real phenomenon in European football. Though he didn't specify a particular league, many soccer competitions have mechanisms that maintain competitive stakes throughout the season. Relegation battles, qualification for secondary European tournaments, and performance-based prize money all ensure that teams have something to play for even after title hopes fade. The concept of "points for trying" reflects how these systems reward continued effort and professional pride.
The timing of Jefferson's proposal coincides with growing league-wide concern about tanking's corrosive effects. Just days earlier, his former teammate Kenyon Martin launched a scathing critique of the practice, calling it "disgusting" and detrimental to basketball's core values. Martin advocated for direct intervention from league officials, suggesting penalties ranging from draft pick forfeiture to financial fines for organizations that make their tanking too obvious.
"This disgusting display of non-competitive organizations," Martin declared. "I think it's awful for the game. I think it's awful for sports. Something has to be done. When you're making it blatantly obvious like that, the league has to step in. It has to be draft picks, some fines. Something has to give. Cuz it's no good for the fans. If anybody is cheated, it's the fans in these situations."
The convergence of these critiques from two former players with different career arcs—Jefferson the savvy veteran and Martin the former top pick—underscores the breadth of concern within the basketball community. Both recognize that tanking doesn't just affect the teams involved; it erodes the fundamental promise that fans deserve: a good-faith effort to win each night.
Implementing Jefferson's proposal would require significant structural changes to the NBA's draft lottery system. The current weighted lottery gives the worst teams the best odds at the top picks, creating a clear incentive to lose. A performance-based system for eliminated teams would need careful calibration. How much should late-season wins improve lottery odds? Should there be tiers based on how early a team was eliminated? How would this system interact with the existing lottery structure for teams that remain in playoff contention until the final days?
These logistical questions are complex but not insurmountable. The NBA has repeatedly modified its lottery odds in recent years, flattening the probabilities to discourage extreme tanking. In 2019, the league reduced the worst team's odds of securing the top pick from 25% to 14% and gave the three worst teams equal odds. While this helped marginally, it hasn't eliminated the incentive to be bad.
Jefferson's more radical approach would go further by creating positive incentives for winning. A team eliminated in March would have multiple months to accumulate "competitive points" that boost their draft position. This would transform the final stretch of the season for lottery-bound teams from a depressing slog into meaningful competition. Young players would develop in a winning culture, veterans would maintain professional pride, and fans would have reasons to keep watching.
The Utah Jazz example Jefferson cited illustrates the current system's moral hazard. With a potential hometown superstar entering the draft, the Jazz have every incentive to maximize their lottery odds. Fans might even support the strategy, torn between short-term suffering and long-term franchise salvation. This creates a bizarre dynamic where losing feels like winning, at least in the abstract.
But this logic breaks down when considering the broader ecosystem. Season ticket holders pay premium prices to watch competitive basketball. Television partners broadcast games expecting professional effort. The league's brand depends on the premise that every game matters. When teams field subpar lineups, rest healthy players, and make roster decisions designed to lose, they extract value from everyone else in the partnership.
Moreover, tanking creates a prisoner's dilemma. If every team tried to win as many games as possible, the draft order would still sort itself out naturally. But once one organization embraces tanking, others must follow suit or risk falling behind in the talent acquisition arms race. This cascade effect leads to multiple teams racing to the bottom, each trying to be worse than the others.
The 2026 draft class has accelerated this arms race. With multiple prospects projected as potential franchise cornerstones, the difference between picking first and fifth could define a decade of team performance. This intensifies the incentive to tank and makes reform more urgent.
Jefferson's proposal offers a way out of this dilemma. By rewarding post-elimination wins, it aligns organizational incentives with competitive integrity. Teams would still have reason to develop young talent and evaluate roster pieces, but they'd do so within a framework that values winning. The draft would remain a tool for parity, but it wouldn't require organizations to betray their competitive soul to access it.
Of course, no system is perfect. Wealthier teams might still find ways to game the rules. A squad eliminated early could theoretically sign veteran ring-chasers for the stretch run, using experienced players to accumulate wins that boost lottery odds. The league would need safeguards to prevent this, perhaps by weighting the value of wins based on roster composition or limiting the impact of late-season victories.
There's also the question of unintended consequences. Would teams on the playoff bubble have incentive to lose just enough to miss the postseason but then dominate the "eliminated team" bracket? The design would need to ensure that playoff contention remains the primary goal for all but the truly hopeless franchises.
Despite these challenges, Jefferson's core insight is valuable. The NBA's tanking problem won't be solved by moral appeals or minor tweaks. It requires fundamentally rethinking how the league rewards and penalizes performance. The draft exists to promote parity, but it shouldn't require teams to actively harm the product to benefit from it.
As the 2026 draft approaches and tanking becomes even more pronounced, the league office will face increasing pressure to act. Jefferson's soccer-inspired proposal, while still rough around the edges, provides a creative starting point for that conversation. It acknowledges a simple truth: incentives drive behavior, and the current incentives are broken.
The NBA has always prided itself on innovation, from the shot clock to the three-point line to load management policies. Reforming the lottery system to reward competitiveness would be in that tradition. It would send a clear message that winning matters, even when the playoffs are out of reach, and that the league values its fans enough to ensure every game has purpose.
Until such reforms are implemented, teams will continue doing what the system encourages them to do. The Utah Jazz and others will tank, not because they're unethical, but because they're rational. Changing that calculation requires more than criticism—it requires the kind of bold, systemic thinking Jefferson has proposed. Whether his specific solution is adopted or not, the conversation he has sparked may be the first step toward a more competitive future.