Helmet decals are apparently more dangerous than concussions and domestic violence.
https://broadly.vice.com/en_us/article/the-nfl-and-dangerous-violence-a-love-story
Fearing exploding hard hats, the NFL banned the helmet for a year, and then reintroduced a padded version, which was still open-faced—i.e., unhelpful for preventing black eyes and fractured noses. It would take more than ten years before a single face bar was added to the padded plastic helmet, thanks to inventor Paul Brown. The bars were arranged in a number of artful formations, some of which looked like an Iron Man mask, and others like a wedgie (today dozens of face mask designs are available, offering a range of protection and visibility).
By 1952, a study had appeared in the New England Journal of Medicine urging players who had suffered three concussions to leave football forever for their own safety; that would be just the beginning of a concerted campaign by scientific and medical community to require the NFL to take better care of the safety of their employees.
The NFL first acknowledged the threat that concussions posed to players
in 1994, forming the Mild Traumatic Brain Injury Committee to study brain trauma. The group was headed by Elliot Pellman, a rheumatologist who claimed to have studied at Stony Brook, but who actually attended medical school in Guadalajara, Mexico. He told Sports Illustrated, "Concussions are part of the profession, an occupational risk, like a steelworker who goes up 100 stories, or a soldier."
The essence of the medical community's recommendations was the not-so-radical idea that players who had been knocked unconscious should be removed from a game. The NFL rejected the idea; one consultant told the press, "We see people all the time that get knocked out briefly and have no symptoms."
A study in 2000 found otherwise. Of the 61 percent of players who had sustained concussions, "49% had numbness or tingling; 28% had neck or cervical spine arthritis; 31% had difficulty with memory; 16% were unable to dress themselves; and 11% were unable to feed themselves."
Not only did the NFL continue to deny that repeated head trauma caused irreversible brain damage, they didn't even require players to wear a specific type of helmet that could help reduce the risk of injury. Up until 2014, players could wear whatever helmet they wanted, so long as it contained a chinstrap and a face mask. It wasn't until last year that the NFL announced a new committee on Standards for Athletic Equipment that, they said, would address concussions.
The NFL and Domestic Violence
When Ray Rice was videotaped dragging his wife's beaten, unconscious body out of an elevator, he was suspended for two games. Later, the League amended their discipline policy, subjecting offending players to a suspension of six games for a first offense, "with consideration given to mitigating factors, as well as a longer suspension when circumstances warrant." A second offense is now grounds for being banned from the League.
It may seem like common sense—most workplaces don't employ active criminals—but the rule is unprecedented in the history of the NFL. The new suspension for first offenders is four times what the average suspension has been in the past, and the clause that ultimately banishes players from the League is the harshest punishment the NFL has ever put into place. In the past, the NFL has treated domestic abuse lightly; in some cases, players charged with beating their wives have been punished less severely than those caught in possession of marijuana.
Compared to other personal conduct violations, punishing players who abuse their wives or girlfriends has been much less of a priority, at least until recently. According to FiveThirtyEight, the average number of games a player was suspended for violating any personal conduction violations was three under the old policy; for the 15 cases of domestic violence that were punished under it, the average number of games suspended was half that, at just 1.5.
And there have been many, many instances of players abusing their wives throughout the history of the NFL. Most famously and recently, Greg Hardy tossed his girlfriend against a wall, threw her on a futon strewn with guns, and choked her until she begged him to "kill me."
In all, according to a USA Today NFL arrests database, 77 players across 27 of the League's 32 teams have been arrested since 2000 on charges of domestic violence. There are currently 44 active NFL players accused of sexual or physical assault.
The NFL and Women
If you look past the abuse, assault, and pandering, the NFL is just like any other massive, capitalist enterprise: equally as beholden to women as it is to men for its economic survival.
Women are pro football's fastest-growing and most important demographic, comprising an estimated 45 percent of the NFL's 150 million American fans, according to the Washington Post, and there have been efforts to involve them in the sport for decades. A pamphlet for women from the 1960s by Pat Kiley purports to answer the hard-hitting questions women might have about the game, including why it's played and what ladies should do during breaks (it involves preparing food):
Between the halves, there is a 15-minute intermission during which the players leave the field. They go to their dressing rooms and rest. And you go into action: make a beeline for the refreshment stand, hunt for the ladies' room, chat with friends, check who's with whom, and who's wearing what, or simply enjoy the half-time show.
This, of course, refers to your activity at the stadium. If you are at home watching a televised game, your half-time is usually spent on KP! Many a stew has been stirred, casserole checked, or dinner table set during these 15 minutes (see menus, page 10).
Today, the NFL sponsors features like the "Savvy Girl's Guide to Football" in Marie Claire magazine and partners with brands like CoverGirl to encourage lady fans to catch the "fandemonium" by getting "fanicures."
But as long as players are beating their wives and girlfriends, it'll likely take more than makeup to ensure women don't give up on the sport. In early September of last year, Terry O'Neill, the president of the National Organization for Women, called for the NFL Commissioner, Roger Goodell, to resign in the hopes that his ousting could bring about systemic change in the way domestic abusers are punished within the league. "The NFL has lost its way," she wrote. "It doesn't have a Ray Rice problem; it has a violence against women problem."
Six days later, Goodell announced the hiring of Lisa Friel (a NY-based lawyer who spent 28 years prosecuting sex crimes), Jane Randel (co-founder of the domestic violence prevention initiative "No More" in 2009), and Rita Smith (a longtime advocate with the National Coalition Against Domestic Violence) to "help lead and shape the NFL's policies and programs relating to domestic violence and sexual assault." The League also promoted Anna Isaacson, formerly the NFL's VP of community relations and philanthropy, to the role of vice president of social responsibility. During the last Super Bowl, the NFL also ran a much-lauded anti-domestic violence advertisement.
Nevertheless, it'll probably take a lot more than a few consultants and PR-friendly donations to "change the culture" at the NFL; when women speak out against abusers in the League, they fear pushback from hostile fans unwilling to admit that their on-field heroes could be off-field assholes (and from the League itself)—if they're willing to speak out at all. For now, considering the harm the League has done to both women and cerebrums, it continues to be amazing to many that anyone watches it at all—let alone one-third of all Americans. 
