The NFL Draft and definitionalism

The NFL draft is almost upon us, and once again I see the participants (and the endless number of analysts who comment on it) are exhibiting angst over the selection process.  Which quarterback will go number one?  Josh Allen?  Baker Mayfield?  Josh Rosen?  Sam Darnold?  The answer to the question of which will be chosen number one has been scrutinized since, well, last year’s draft.

One thing about draft analysis that always bothers me is what I call “definitionalism.”  That means that the number one draft pick will be expected to be better than the other first round picks (and subsequent picks, obviously) because he is the number one pick.  It’s as if picking a player number one somehow imbues him with the qualities expected to be demonstrated by a number one pick.  You expect something to be the definition of that something.

But we shouldn’t expect more of the number one pick than we do of the number two pick, or number four, or even number 10.  First of all, all talent evaluations have a margin of error (just ask the NFL executive who drafted Ryan Leaf).  Number one should be a pretty good NFL player, but so should any of the first-round picks.  If, on a scale from 1-10, Josh Rosen’s prospects are 8.5 and Sam Darnold’s are 8.489, then Rosen should be picked number one; but if each estimate has a plus/minus of 2, the we shouldn’t be surprised if Darnold has a better career.

Projecting future quality is as iffy as forecasting the stock market or Madonna’s love life.  As Yoda said, “Always in motion is the future.”  Robert Griffin III looked like a Hall of Famer—for a season.  Drew Brees’ early career in San Diego looked spotty, but then he was traded to New Orleans and is now a certain HoFer.  You just never know.

There is also the question of fit.  What quarterback will fit with the pieces around him?  Drafting the guy with the strongest arm won’t do your team much good if all your receivers have the dropsies.  Drafting a pocket passer over a mobile QB might be a mistake if you have a porous front line.  It is more important to have an idea of what kind of offense you want and select the best pieces to achieve that idea (which may mean not drafting a quarterback if other pieces are available). 

There is also the problem that a quarterback might be great, but if he’s picked by the Cleveland Browns he won’t be going to a Super Bowl the next season, or in the next five seasons (or ever if the Brown’s management doesn’t get massively smarter).  This is the point of drafting based on the prior season’s outcomes—the best players go to the weakest teams.  But if a team got the number one pick not through tanking but by sheer incompetence, then expecting one player to make a difference is probably asking too much.

Unfortunately, whoever the Cleveland Browns select with their first choice (assuming they don’t trade it or opt to draft a defensive lineman, because they’re the Browns) will have the daunted “number one pick” label attached to him for the rest of his career and after.  Even if the Cleveland Browns win twice as many games next season as last, twice zero is, let me see, zero.  They had the number one pick last year and it didn’t exactly improve them.

My point is, whoever is picked number one, Darnold or Allen or Mayfield or Rosen, the expectations shouldn’t be higher on that player.  They have all proven to be competent NCAA quarterbacks, and their NFL potential is roughly the same.  Don’t get sucked into believing that the one picked number one should be expected to be better than the others.  At this point it is all a crapshoot.

How much will having the number one pick help the Cleveland Browns?  Probably about as much as having last year’s number one picked helped; they selected Miles Garrett of Texas A&M with the first pick in the 2017 draft, and in the 2017-18 season they went 0-16. 

Nothing can help the Cleveland Browns.