Mike McCarthy and the Steelers: Stability Over Ceiling

The Pittsburgh Steelers’ decision to hire Mike McCarthy is one of the most polarizing moves of the 2026 NFL coaching cycle, not because McCarthy lacks credentials, but because his résumé forces an uncomfortable question: what exactly are the Steelers trying to be?

On paper, McCarthy looks like a safe, accomplished hire. He owns a Super Bowl ring, has coached for nearly two decades, and boasts winning records at both of his previous stops. In Green Bay, McCarthy went 125-77-2 during the regular season and won Super Bowl XLV. In Dallas, he followed that up with a 49-35 record, consistently keeping the Cowboys in playoff contention. For franchises searching for competence and structure, that résumé is more than enough.

But Pittsburgh is not a franchise that measures success in winning seasons alone. The Steelers measure success in championships. And that’s where the McCarthy hire becomes far more complicated.

When you examine McCarthy’s postseason record, the shine fades quickly. He finished 10-8 in the playoffs with Green Bay and just 1-3 with Dallas. On the surface, that looks respectable—until you remove the four-game Super Bowl run in 2010. Without that stretch, McCarthy is 7-11 in the playoffs, including a 6-9 record since winning the Super Bowl. That’s not a small sample size. That’s over a decade of evidence suggesting that his teams consistently struggle when the stakes are highest.

This leads directly to the most common critique of McCarthy’s career: how much of his success was driven by elite quarterback play rather than coaching innovation? In Green Bay, McCarthy had Aaron Rodgers in his prime, one of the most talented quarterbacks the league has ever seen. Rodgers’ ability to extend plays, mask schematic stagnation, and elevate offenses made life easier for everyone involved. When that relationship deteriorated and the results flattened, Green Bay moved on, signaling that the ceiling under McCarthy had been reached.

Dallas was supposed to be the redemption arc. Instead, it reinforced the same concerns. McCarthy replaced Jason Garrett, a coach widely criticized for wasting talented rosters and underperforming in big moments. Yet the Cowboys’ results barely changed. Garrett posted a regular-season winning percentage around .568; McCarthy’s sat just slightly higher at roughly .583. The team didn’t become tougher, sharper, or more dangerous in January. The same criticisms followed him: conservative game management, tight performances in big moments, and an inability to elevate talent when it mattered most.

That context matters deeply for Pittsburgh.

If the Steelers’ goal is to avoid a rebuild at all costs—to remain competitive, win the division occasionally, and make the playoffs year after year—then McCarthy is a solid hire. He raises the floor. He brings stability. He knows how to manage veteran locker rooms and navigate media pressure. For a franchise that prides itself on consistency and rarely embraces full teardowns, that has real value.

But stability is not the same as contention.

The quarterback situation makes that distinction unavoidable. If the Steelers bring back Aaron Rodgers, the logic becomes clearer—but no less flawed. Rodgers, at best, has two to three seasons left. Even pairing him with McCarthy, you’re asking an aging quarterback and a coach with a well-documented postseason ceiling to run through an AFC gauntlet that includes Patrick Mahomes, Josh Allen, Joe Burrow, Lamar Jackson, and C.J. Stroud. That’s not a realistic championship plan. It’s a delay tactic.

Rodgers and McCarthy together is a known quantity. We’ve seen how it ends: strong regular seasons, early playoff exits, and lingering questions about what could have been. Bringing Rodgers back might keep Pittsburgh relevant in the short term, but it does not put them on equal footing with the AFC’s true contenders.

If Rodgers isn’t the plan, the hire becomes even more confusing. McCarthy has never rebuilt a roster from the ground up. He has never developed a young quarterback without elite talent already in place. He is a maintenance coach, not a construction coach. Hiring him without a clear veteran quarterback solution risks locking the Steelers into the worst possible position: too good to rebuild, not good enough to compete.

That tension defines this hire. Pittsburgh appears to be choosing comfort over clarity. McCarthy preserves the Steelers’ identity of competitiveness and consistency, but he does not redefine it. He does not change the trajectory of the franchise in a meaningful way. He keeps them afloat—but likely caps their ceiling well below championship level.

Ultimately, this hire isn’t about whether Mike McCarthy is a good coach. He is. It’s about whether he is the right coach for where the Steelers are right now. And that answer depends entirely on ambition. If the goal is to stay relevant and avoid losing seasons, McCarthy fits perfectly. If the goal is to win another Lombardi Trophy, the evidence suggests Pittsburgh may have chosen familiarity over the hard, uncomfortable work of true contention.