The sociopolitical weight of the FIFA World Cup has long been a marvel to behold and a proxy for every collective emotion from national pride to public grief. Amid the fervency of the games themselves, the 2026 tournament sees even the United States waving its late pass in the air and joining one of humanity’s biggest celebrations of global sports culture.
Truly one has no soul if one is not overjoyed for those participating in the World Cup. And likewise, one is short a whole heart, if one does not grieve with citizens of those nations whose teams are not—and here’s why:
For nations like four-time World Cup champion Italy and such frequent World Cup participants as Nigeria, Cameroon, and Denmark—that is, countries that do not merely hope to qualify for the World Cup, but that culturally we fans expect to always be there—missing the tournament can be deeply painful in a way many of my fellow Americans are only now beginning to comprehend.
While not making the World Cup is rarely regime-ending by itself, the sociopolitical fallout of a fail to qualify or a painful knockout is known to trigger national embarrassment, passionate public anger, institutional scrutiny, federation resignations, and/or demands for reform.
In football-centric countries, it can become a highly visible proxy for deeper anxieties about national decline, poor management, corruption, weak institutions, or loss of global stature. Whole nations out here catching feelings and moods turn. Accountability pressure rises. Sport can become a public referendum on competence and identity, often spurring demands for reform.
With the 2026 World Cup being hosted in part by the United States, many Americans may be experiencing these global passions firsthand for the first time. This tournament is shaping up to be one of the biggest and most impactful cultural translations between the U.S. and the rest of the sporting world in decades.
Not just because of all the hot Scots in kilts causing beer shortages across Boston, that is, but because technological advances in multiplatform media allow more of us than ever before to witness, experience, and participate in one another’s cultures.
And with this—handsome kilts, a run on ranch dressing, some weird outbursts of racism, and every other reminder that humanity is still figuring itself out—we each have a wonderful opportunity to keep making global play and human understanding a beautiful thing for one another.
