The World Cup Has Outgrown The World

Why FIFA’s mega-event no longer fits inside a single country — and why 2038 exposes the crisis.

1. Introduction: A Tournament Now Too Big for Its Host

The World Cup has quietly crossed a structural threshold. Not because football changed, but because FIFA has expanded the event into something that overwhelms the very idea of a single-nation host.

Commercial demands. Infrastructure strain. Logistical sprawl. Political complexity.

By 2038, the World Cup faces an uncomfortable truth:

Only a handful of countries on the planet can realistically host it alone — and even fewer are willing to try.

2. How We Got Here: Expansion Without Restraint

Contrary to perception, the World Cup hasn’t grown dramatically in calendar length:

1998: 10 June – 12 July (32 days)
2026: 11 June – 19 July (39 days)

Only one extra week.

But FIFA packed far more into those days:

48 teams
104 matches
More host cities
More travelling fans
More commercial obligations
More fan zones and “event overlay”
More takeover of public space
More transport and accommodation strain

The tournament didn’t grow in time. It grew in density — and in demands.

If FIFA expands to 64 teams, the old model is impossible without:

Extending the tournament towards two months
Overlapping matches aggressively
Playing games at anti-social hours
Or restructuring into formal regional hosting pods, not just for group games but possibly for the Round of 32 and Round of 16.

3. Who Actually Profits? Not the Host Country.

Here is the part governments rarely admit:

Host countries do not profit from World Cups. The contractors who build and upgrade infrastructure do.

FIFA extracts nearly all event revenue:

Ticketing
Broadcasting
Sponsorship
Hospitality
Licensing
Merchandising
And extensive tax exemptions granted by the host nation, including relief from corporation tax, VAT, import duties and other charges normally applied to commercial activity.

Beyond the stadium itself, FIFA controls vast Commercial Restriction Zones:

Local vendors banned
Local merchandise prohibited
Local food and drink replaced by global sponsors
Public squares fenced off for FIFA-branded “villages”
Temporary markets built entirely for FIFA’s commercial partners

These sterilised, sponsor-controlled environments create the illusion of vibrant local culture while funnelling all revenue into the tournament’s corporate ecosystem.

What does the country receive?

A short-term tourism bump
Some tax revenue on that tourism
International visibility

And that final point — the prestige — is the real currency.

Economically, the World Cup is a loss leader. Politically, it is a branding exercise.

4. Morocco 2030: The Blueprint FIFA Now Follows

Morocco’s presence in the 2030 World Cup was not a decorative addition. It became the defining feature of a bid that originally belonged to Spain and Portugal.

Spain and Portugal offered what Europe always offers: stability, proven stadiums, major airports, efficient transport, and deep footballing heritage. These qualities make a tournament work. But in the modern FIFA era, they don’t make a tournament win.

Morocco provided what Europe could not: a transformational project, a continental narrative, and a geopolitical milestone that elevated the entire bid.

At the centre is the proposed 113,000-seat Grand Stade de Casablanca (Benslimane) — expected, if delivered to specification, to become the largest football-specific stadium in the world. That single venue instantly reframed the bid from a routine UEFA tournament into something symbolically global.

Spain and Portugal provided credibility.
Morocco provided meaning.

What Morocco Added That Changed Everything

1. A transformational infrastructure story
Spain and Portugal were offering readiness; Morocco was offering ambition. The Benslimane super-stadium is not just a ground — it anchors transport upgrades, urban redevelopment, and a national sporting complex. It turns the tournament into a catalyst for long-term change, not simply a four-week event.

2. A continental milestone for Africa
Africa hasn’t hosted since 2010. Including Morocco in a centenary tournament allows FIFA to present 2030 as a global celebration, not a European rerun. It delivers a political and emotional moment: “Africa is central to football’s next century.”

3. A geopolitical win for FIFA
Awarding a purely European World Cup in 2030 would have played poorly in South America, Africa, and parts of Asia. Adding Morocco balanced the optics and turned the bid into a cross-continental project with diplomatic upside.

4. A state willing to invest heavily
Morocco sees the World Cup as part of a broader national branding strategy — a soft-power tool tying together Africa, Europe, and the Arab world. The willingness to spend big, move quickly and commit politically makes them an ideal partner for FIFA.

The Broader Pattern

Since South Africa 2010, World Cups have been awarded not just on capability, but on which host can deliver the most powerful narrative and the most transformative infrastructure story. Morocco 2030 is simply the latest expression of that trend — not the beginning of it.

Spain and Portugal ensured the bid was technically sound.
Morocco ensured it became impossible to ignore..

5. The Rotation Trap: How FIFA Accidentally Blocks Future Hosts

While FIFA has no official rotation rule, the political reality is clear: a confederation rarely hosts twice within two decades.

Recent and upcoming hosts:

2014: Brazil (CONMEBOL)
2018: Russia (UEFA)
2022: Qatar (AFC)
2026: USA, Mexico, Canada (CONCACAF)
2030: Spain–Portugal–Morocco (UEFA/CAF)
2034: Saudi Arabia (AFC)

This creates long-term dead zones:

AFC
Blocked until around 2054, despite the gulf states and ASEAN being completely different ecosystems.

CAF
Blocked until around 2050 due to Morocco’s involvement.

CONCACAF
Locked out until at least 2046–2050.

CONMEBOL
Realistically returns from 2042 onwards.

UEFA
Only one confederation is open for 2038 — yet almost every major UEFA nation is unwilling, unprepared or politically fatigued.

Which leaves only three realistic candidates for 2038 worldwide:

Türkiye
UK–Ireland
Australia & New Zealand

6. The Shrinking Universe: Who Can Host Alone?

6A. Europe (UEFA)

Realistic:

Türkiye
UK–Ireland

Not viable:

Spain & Portugal → hosting 2030
France → Euro 2016, Rugby 2023, Olympics 2024; no appetite
Germany → 2006 World Cup + Euro 2024; politically saturated
Netherlands/Belgium → too small
Italy → rebuilding (see Section 12)

Europe looks large, but for hosting it effectively has just two serious bids.

6B. Asia (AFC)

Saudi Arabia 2034 locks the confederation until mid-century.

AFC is three different worlds:

Gulf states (mega-rich, high-capacity)
ASEAN nations (population giants, inconsistent infrastructure)
AUS/NZ + Japan/Korea (stable, high-quality, politically reliable)

But FIFA treats it as a single rotation unit, freezing all of them.

6C. Africa (CAF)

Morocco’s role pushes Africa’s next realistic bid to 2050 or later.

Egypt remains unstable. North Africa lacks stadium inventory. South Africa faces financial constraints. West and Central Africa are developing but decades away from having sufficient infrastructure.

6D. South America (CONMEBOL)

Brazil is too soon after 2014
Argentina is in economic crisis
Chile, Peru, Colombia are not financially viable at World Cup scale
Uruguay and Paraguay are too small for solo hosting

But a Southern Cone joint bid (for example Argentina–Chile–Uruguay–Paraguay) could re-emerge from 2042 onwards.

6E. Middle East (Gulf)

Qatar 2022 and Saudi Arabia 2034 rule the region out until roughly 2054–2058.

A UAE–Qatar–Oman–Bahrain mega-bid is entirely plausible long-term.

6F. North America (CONCACAF)

The 2026 tournament freezes the region until at least 2046–2050.

The US has stadiums — NFL venues alone prove you do not need football-specific arenas — but political appetite for another FIFA ordeal is low.

7. 2038: The Most Predictable World Cup Cycle in Decades

Realistic options for 2038:

Türkiye
UK–Ireland
Australia & New Zealand (credible outsider)

These are the only serious global candidates. All other confederations are either recently involved, politically unstable, economically constrained or rotation-blocked.

8. The UK–Ireland Dilemma

Technically, UK–Ireland would be an exceptionally competent, low-risk host:

Stadiums ready
Airports and rail networks strong
Hotels sufficient
Broadcasting timezone ideal for global audiences
No white elephants
No need for major new infrastructure programmes

But the political hesitation is real.

The failed England-only bid for 2018 took place in the same voting cycle that also awarded Qatar 2022 — a process widely seen as opaque, compromised and influenced by decisions made long before the final ballot.

Many within the FA believed Russia 2018 was effectively decided behind closed doors, rendering England’s campaign a public humiliation after significant financial and political investment. Trust between England and FIFA collapsed. That institutional scar tissue remains.

Even though UK–Ireland has never jointly bid for a men’s World Cup, the legacy of 2018 makes the bid team wary of risking another embarrassment. Goodwill takes time to rebuild.

Hosting the 2035 Women’s World Cup adds a further strategic question: would FIFA see the men’s tournament as sufficiently special and legacy-shaping so soon afterward?

The bid is world-class technically. The politics are the only obstacle.

9. Türkiye: FIFA’s Convenient Answer

Türkiye offers everything FIFA tends to value in a modern host:

A centralised political structure capable of rapid decision-making
A large inventory of relatively modern stadiums
A government willing to invest in prestige infrastructure
A geopolitical narrative that bridges Europe and Asia
No need for co-hosts
Lower risk of large-scale public backlash against spending
Infrastructure that can be delivered quickly

Türkiye may not just be a contender — it may be the path of least resistance if UK–Ireland hesitates.

10. Australia & New Zealand: The Low-Friction Host

Australia and New Zealand are the third realistic 2038 option — and more plausible than many assume.

Advantages include:

Stadiums already existing, many needing only modest upgrades
Ability to adapt large AFL and cricket grounds, avoiding white elephants
Strong public transport networks in key urban areas
A long track record of delivering major international events
A safe, politically neutral environment
A timezone that suits Asia and is workable for Europe
Credible sustainability and “green host” narratives

If Türkiye and UK–Ireland stumble politically, Australia and New Zealand become the logical low-friction choice: broadly acceptable, relatively uncontroversial, and unlikely to trigger serious geopolitical backlash.

11. Where We Go After 2038: 2042 to 2060

Beyond 2038, the global rotation begins to loosen again.

2042

Southern Cone quad-bid possible
East or West Africa multi-nation clusters
Australia & New Zealand potential return

2046–2050

CONCACAF reopens
Italy emerges as stadium reforms progress
Central European joint hosting explored

2054–2058

Asia reopens
ASEAN cluster
Australia & New Zealand + Japan/Korea mega-bid
Gulf regional bid
Long-shot bids from China or India if infrastructure and politics align

The future is regional, not national.

12. Italy: A Slow but Inevitable Stadium Revolution

Italian stadiums stagnated for decades because almost all were municipally owned. Clubs could not fully monetise matchdays, modernise facilities or develop sustainable commercial operations.

The turning point came in 2011 when Juventus opened the first major privately owned stadium in Italy. It gave them full control over matchday revenue, naming rights, hospitality and non-football events — and they dominated the next decade as a direct result.

It took 15 more years for others to follow.

Milan and Inter’s purchase of San Siro marks the moment Italy finally accepted the Juventus model as the future. A new 71,500-seat stadium will be built on adjacent land, with the old San Siro demolished afterward once the replacement is complete.

This project is the first step in a wider, overdue stadium modernisation movement — but Italy is still years from having the consistent national infrastructure a World Cup requires.

Earliest realistic hosting window: 2046–2054.

13. Has the World Cup Outgrown the Planet?

The tournament is not too big to exist. It is simply too big for the hosting model everyone grew up with.

A 48-team tournament already strains transport, hotels, scheduling, public space and broadcasting windows. A 64-team tournament breaks the system completely.

The problem is not the World Cup itself. The problem is pretending it can still be hosted like it is 1998.

At 64 teams, the event requires:

Regional hosting pods
Multi-nation coordination
Shared knockout hubs
Shorter travel distances for teams and fans
A broadly unified broadcasting window

The World Cup becomes a continental project, not a national one.

This is not a flaw. It is the logical evolution of a global tournament serving a global audience.

14. Joint Hosting Becomes the Default

As costs rise and political tolerance falls, single-nation hosting becomes rare.

The future model looks like:

ASEAN clusters (for example Singapore–Malaysia–Indonesia–Thailand–Vietnam)
East Africa or West Africa groupings
Southern Cone quad-bids
Australia & New Zealand plus Japan/Korea
Gulf regional hosting
Central European alliances

This is not FIFA’s ideological preference — it is reality asserting itself.

15. Conclusion: The End of the One-Nation World Cup

The World Cup has not grown too large to function. It has grown too large for nostalgia.

FIFA will not shrink the tournament. Nor is meaningful reform likely.

But the era of the single-nation World Cup is ending. The event is now, in practice, a regional infrastructure project rather than a purely national festival.

The countries and regions that succeed will be those willing to adapt to that fact. The ones that fail will be those still imagining it is 1998.