Auburn’s Delay in Addressing Malcolm Simmons’ Status Only Deepens the Pressure on the Alleged Victim and Raises Critical Concerns
In the ever-evolving landscape of college athletics, the expectations placed on programs to act swiftly and decisively in matters of off-field misconduct have never been higher. Yet, despite the growing public and institutional awareness surrounding issues of domestic violence, Auburn University finds itself at a troubling crossroads in the case of wide receiver Malcolm Simmons. As of now, the school has not taken any public action regarding Simmons’ status following serious allegations of domestic violence. The longer Auburn delays, the more intense the pressure becomes—on the program, the university, and most alarmingly, on the alleged victim.
Silence, in this situation, speaks volumes. While investigations must be thorough and due process must be respected, there is also a moral and ethical imperative to act swiftly when the safety and well-being of individuals are in question. Inaction sends a message—a message that football wins and recruiting momentum may be valued more highly than accountability and empathy. It communicates, intentionally or not, that alleged victims must wait in silence while institutions deliberate behind closed doors, often with public image top of mind.
There is a unique kind of emotional strain placed on a person who comes forward with allegations of abuse, particularly when the accused is a high-profile athlete at a football powerhouse in the SEC. The dynamics of fame, power, and institutional loyalty often coalesce into a culture of disbelief and victim-blaming. It becomes exponentially harder for a survivor to come forward, to remain steadfast in the face of scrutiny, and to trust the very institutions designed to protect them.
And when those institutions go quiet, as Auburn has, it can feel like abandonment.
What makes this situation even more disconcerting is the modern landscape of college football. In an era where the sport is increasingly tied to big money, massive media deals, and intense fan loyalty, the pressure to keep players on the field—especially talented ones—can overshadow the importance of addressing serious allegations with urgency and clarity. Simmons, a highly-regarded in-state recruit from the Class of 2024, represents not only on-field potential but also part of Auburn’s blueprint for building a competitive future. That future should never come at the cost of a young woman’s safety or mental health.
In delaying action, Auburn is not just prolonging a procedural review. It’s implicitly placing the burden of uncertainty and narrative control on the alleged victim. Each day that passes without a statement, without clarification of Simmons’ status, increases the pressure on her. Public discourse, fueled by social media speculation, often turns toxic in cases like these. Alleged victims are frequently doxxed, harassed, and accused of lying, particularly when the accused is beloved by fans. Auburn’s silence does not shield the victim from that scrutiny; it amplifies it.
Furthermore, this delay reflects a deeper issue: the tendency within college sports to treat athletes as assets before seeing them as people. It also underscores how alleged victims are often sidelined, treated as external to the program rather than as part of the university community that deserves equal protection. If Auburn’s leadership truly believes in the principles of student safety and accountability, then clarity and transparency must take precedence over competitive calculus.
There is, of course, the counter-argument—that due process must be allowed to play out, that institutions cannot act on allegations alone. This is true. Nobody is advocating for an abandonment of fairness or legal responsibility. But temporary suspension, reassignment, or administrative leave are not guilty verdicts—they are protective actions that safeguard both the alleged victim and the institution’s integrity while investigations continue. Other universities have taken similar steps in the past under comparable circumstances. These decisions do not presuppose guilt but instead reflect a commitment to safety and seriousness.
Auburn has models it can follow. Peer institutions have shown that it’s possible to protect the rights of both the accused and the accuser while maintaining a clear stance on the seriousness of domestic violence. The University of Florida, for instance, suspended a player in 2023 following similar allegations while investigations unfolded. They communicated transparently and acted decisively, signaling to the campus community that they take such matters seriously. Auburn’s unwillingness to follow suit raises questions about its institutional priorities.
And those priorities matter. College campuses should be environments where students—regardless of gender—feel protected, valued, and heard. When a school appears to hesitate in taking meaningful action in response to allegations of violence, especially violence against women, it risks sending a chilling message to others who may be suffering in silence. Victims and survivors watch how universities respond, and those responses often dictate whether they choose to come forward in the future.
Let’s also consider the wider implications for Auburn’s athletic department. Head coach Hugh Freeze and Athletic Director John Cohen are at the forefront of this public silence. Their leadership—or lack thereof—sets the tone not only for the football program but for how Auburn views its responsibility toward its students. Freeze, in particular, has a complicated public reputation and a history of controversial tenure at previous schools. This moment presents an opportunity to lead differently—to prioritize character and accountability over talent and optics.
If Freeze and Cohen remain silent, if Auburn’s administration continues to dodge public response, then they’re not only failing a young woman who stepped forward—they’re potentially undermining the credibility of their entire program. In the eyes of many, culture matters just as much as talent in building a sustainable football program. Fans, parents of future recruits, and even players themselves want to know that they are joining a university that upholds a clear set of values.
This is about far more than a football player’s eligibility. It’s about whether a university is willing to take a firm stand against domestic violence. It’s about whether administrators believe in practicing the values they often tout in press releases—integrity, accountability, and respect for all students. The time for statements of principle is over. This is a time for action.
Moreover, delaying action does not help Simmons either. The ambiguity surrounding his status only fuels speculation and distracts from what could eventually be a fair and clear resolution. If he is ultimately cleared of wrongdoing, then he deserves a swift path to resume his career without stigma. But allowing this limbo to continue only muddies the waters, prolongs the news cycle, and keeps all parties—Simmons, the alleged victim, the team, and the university—caught in a maelstrom of rumor and distrust.
By contrast, immediate administrative action and clear public communication would allow the focus to return to the facts and the investigation. It would demonstrate maturity from Auburn’s leadership and build trust across the university community. It would also protect Simmons from premature judgment by showing that the school is committed to fairness, not favoritism.
Institutions are defined by how they respond in their hardest moments. Auburn has been here before. The school knows the cost of scandal, the toll of silence, and the damage of failing to act when the public—and the community—calls for clarity. The Malcolm Simmons case presents another such moment. Will Auburn act in a way that prioritizes student safety and institutional integrity? Or will it once again place football above all else?
Ultimately, the choice belongs to Auburn’s leadership, but the consequences will reverberate far beyond this season or the recruiting class. The university must decide what kind of example it wants to set—for its athletes, for its fans, and most importantly, for the students whose trust in the system is fragile and precious.
To continue delaying a public response is to risk that trust entirely.
The time for Auburn to act is now.
