The term ‘nanny state’ is widely credited to Iain Macleod, a member of the British parliament who felt the government was unduly overprotective and shielded people from the consequences of their own actions. Macleod died in 1970, so he didn’t live to see his notional concept perfected by a succession of executives in faraway Ponte Vedra Beach, Florida.
The PGA Tour prides itself on its values and there is much to be proud of, like sportsmanship and charity. Yet the most enduring of its precepts isn’t one touted in public but rather practiced in private: secrecy. In his more than two decades as commissioner, Tim Finchem created—and his successor, Jay Monahan, has not dismantled—a culture grounded in confidentiality and coddling. Players assume the Tour will circle wagons to protect them from scrutiny or criticism, and there’s a parallel determination at headquarters to never disappoint in that respect, regardless of whether the issue is profanity overheard by a handful or bunker misadventures witnessed by many.
Veterans of the Ponte Vedra politburo will tell you this is the nature of member-led organizations, which is fair. The PGA Tour is government of the players, for the players (not for fans, it scarcely needs pointing out). But next week’s LIV Golf Invitational near London—the first in a series of sportswashing events funded by the Saudi Arabian regime—will reveal if that protectionist mentality is so ingrained that the Tour will inadvertently assist its would-be rival. There’s already evidence to support such a suspicion.
