Are Group of Five Teams Wasting Playoff Spots — or Preserving College Football’s Soul?

Every December, the playoffs tend to spark questions that won’t go away. Is it time to re-evaluate the Group of Fives’ participation in the National Champions? Would it be better for them to establish their own Championship to allow more competitive playoff games? These are just a few questions that come up every year when discussing the College Football Playoff. And every January, it delivers new controversy. The latest first-round blowouts include James Madison and Tulane struggling to keep pace against their much stronger opponents.  

With expansion intended to create access and opportunity, critics argue it has instead produced predictable outcomes. To them, playoff berths are precious commodities, and handing one to a program outside the Power Four conferences feels like sacrificing competitive balance for sentiment. If the goal is to stage the best matchups in the sport, they argue, why reserve space for teams with little statistical chance of surviving the bracket?

The frustration is understandable. Fans expect the sport’s biggest stage to deliver heavyweight clashes, not halftime conclusions. When games tilt early and stay there, the calls grow louder: remove automatic access, protect the product, tighten the field. But college football has never been only about probability.

The Argument Against Access

Those opposed to Group of Five inclusion frame the issue in terms of competitiveness. The playoff, they say, should represent the absolute pinnacle of performance, the most battle-tested rosters, the deepest recruiting classes, the strongest schedules. If the expanded format repeatedly yields lopsided results, then perhaps the selection criteria need recalibration. The concern isn’t brand bias; it’s quality control. From this perspective, playoff spots should reward résumé strength over conference representation. Excellence, not equity, should drive invitations. And in a sport increasingly defined by television contracts and national exposure, blowouts aren’t just losses; they’re reputational risks.

Why the Pathway Still Matters

Yet focusing solely on final scores misses the broader architecture of the sport. By including Group of Five champions preserves a foundational promise: that every FBS program has a pathway, however narrow, to compete for a national championship. That promise isn’t just philosophical. It has financial and developmental consequences.

• A playoff appearance brings revenue.
• Revenue upgrades facilities.
• Upgrades help retain coaches.
• Retention improves recruiting.
• And recruiting narrows competitive gaps.

Access doesn’t guarantee parity. But without access, parity becomes impossible.

James Madison and the Speed of Growth

James Madison is perhaps the clearest illustration of why the debate is complicated. Not long ago, JMU was competing at the FCS level. In just its second full FBS season, the program reached the College Football Playoff — an ascent that signals ambition and institutional investment. While critics will point to the scoreboard, the broader story is momentum.

• Recruits notice momentum.
• Donors notice momentum.
• Coaches notice momentum.

Programs do not leap from the FCS to national relevance overnight. They build. Exposure accelerates that build.

Probability vs. Possibility

Statistically, the odds of a Group of Five team winning a national championship remain slim. But college football’s mythology was never constructed on odds alone. It thrives on belief — on programs stepping onto the field knowing the gap yet daring to close it. Removing Group of Five access would not eliminate blowouts. Dominant programs have routed traditional powers before. What it would eliminate is the possibility of disruption.  And in a sport built on Saturdays that shape entire communities, possibility matters.

The Risk of Drawing a Line in the Sand

There is also a structural consequence to consider. Removing or marginalizing Group of Five participation risks formalizing a two-tier system, one in which championship dreams are predetermined by conference affiliation rather than performance. For programs that elevated themselves to the FBS precisely to compete at the highest level, that shift would redefine what participation means. Recruiting battles would tilt further toward established powers. Competitive mobility would shrink. College football has always balanced hierarchy with hope. Strip away hope, and the hierarchy hardens permanently.

The Identity Question

Ultimately, this debate is about more than point spreads. It is about identity. Is the College Football Playoff a showcase for the sport’s strongest brands? Or is it a national championship open, in principle and in practice, to every FBS program? Expansion exposed flaws. It also exposed ambition.

Programs like James Madison are not placeholders. They are evidence that growth within the sport is real and, at times, rapid. Their presence may not guarantee upsets, but it preserves the idea that upward mobility still exists in an era increasingly shaped by money, media rights, and consolidation. The tension between dominance and disruption has always defined college football. The playoff didn’t create that tension; it amplified it.

And for now, the debate isn’t going away.