The men’s World Cup is the biggest show in world sports. Not a single ball has been kicked, yet marketing pundits have already predicted that the 2026 World Cup will be the biggest ‘cultural moment in modern sport’. 

Yet while global media owners are understandably already in overdrive selling the reach and cultural currency of the tournament, marketing leaders are increasingly nervous. Is that the much-touted ‘cultural moment’  at risk of being cultural vandalism? In the midst of the most polarised political climate in living memory, what is the brand reputational risk of an already tainted tournament?

Marketing leaders cannot ignore the polarising impact of the US president, when the US is staging the bulk of the matches.  Daniel Norona, the Americas advocacy director at Amnesty International USA, has said there is a ‘high possibility’ of immigration raids being conducted during World Cup fixtures themselves.

While the US Sports market is bullish, with big corporate sponsors and high end stadium experiences which are matched with equally high ticket prices, fans are pushing back against high ticket prices. 

Ronan Evain, Executive Director of Football Supporters Europe, said: “We remain extremely concerned by the all-round lack of clarity and the profit-driven approach that has guided FIFA until now. Never in the history of the tournament have fans been expected to take such huge financial risks to follow their team with such little certainty on what to expect in return.”

FIFA President Gianna Infantino has defended the ticket prices, but industry experts have suggested this tournament is already tainted. As journalist Martin Belam wrote in The Guardian: “Late-night kick-offs, bloated group stages and long-haul travel will take some of the shine off for some supporters.”

So in an industry in which ‘culture’ is the marketing buzzword that never has a use-by date, is it time to address the fact that the culture of this year’s World Cup is fundamentally toxic? With this tension in mind, we are asking industry experts what brands should do differently in the WTF World Cup?

When we ask how brands should manage ‘unprecedented reputational risk’ at this World Cup, we’re not really talking about crisis comms or brand safety, are we? We’re asking something much more uncomfortable: what does brand participation mean when a cultural moment stops feeling unifying and starts feeling destabilising, even toxic?

Historically, the men’s World Cup has been one of the few global cultural moments where brands could rely on a shared set of assumptions. Football brings people together. The emotional contract is simple: we turn up, we amplify the joy, and we don’t overcomplicate it.

In 2026, those assumptions no longer hold. This World Cup is unfolding inside one of the most polarised political and cultural climates in living memory. With the US hosting the bulk of the matches, the tournament isn’t removed from the culture war, it’s literally embedded in it. Concerns around immigration enforcement, access, cost, policing and profit are real, lived anxieties for fans.

This fundamentally changes the emotional texture of the event, long before kickoff. The cultural tone has shifted from collective celebration to an undercurrent of unease. For many fans, football no longer feels like a temporary escape from reality. It risks becoming another space where they feel managed, priced out, or uncertain about where, and even whether,  they belong.

So, the real question isn’t whether brands should ‘take a stand’. It’s what emotional responsibility brands have when a much-loved cultural moment stops feeling safe and celebratory? ‘Business as usual’ isn’t neutral; it’s a choice.

The answer certainly isn’t loud activism. But it does demand a shift in emotional posture; from spectacle to stewardship. From amplifying scale and hype to showing emotional intelligence. From celebrating the tournament as a product to understanding it as a lived experience.

In a fractured world, people don’t need brands to tell them what to think. But they do need brands to recognise how things feel, and to act with care. To create moments of connection, reassurance and togetherness, without pretending the tensions don’t exist.

Brands should shift from speaking to fans of the nation to fans of the game. This reframes the World Cup away from ‘us vs them’ nationalism and toward what genuinely unites audiences globally: iconic moments on the pitch and authentic fan celebrations. Increasingly, fans are emotionally invested in football itself, not just flags, anthems and inherited rivalries.

This shift reflects how football culture has evolved. The modern fan experience is fragmented, borderless and always on. Highlights travel faster than live broadcasts. A spectacular goal or an unexpected upset becomes a shared global moment within seconds, consumed and celebrated far beyond national lines. For brands, that means opportunity lies less in patriotic posturing and more in tapping into the universal language of the game.

A new generation of fans is accelerating this change. Younger audiences often follow players as much as, if not more than, teams. Social media, gaming culture and behind the scenes access have transformed players into cultural figures, creators and brands in their own right. Loyalty is fluid. Admiration crosses borders. A fan in London can feel just as connected to a striker playing in Buenos Aires as to their local club.

In a World Cup shaped by political tension, ethical debate and audience scepticism, this matters. Heavy handed nationalism risks feeling tone deaf or exclusionary. Celebrating the joy, creativity and chaos of football itself feels more honest and more relevant. Brands that focus on the shared emotions of the game can sidestep controversy without ignoring context.

The smartest work will celebrate skill, spontaneity and fan culture in all its forms. It will understand that today’s football audience is global first, national second. In a WTF World Cup, the lesson is simple. Unity does not come from picking a side. It comes from recognising why people fell in love with the game in the first place.

At the heart of this question is the confusion within the industry about what ‘culture’ actually means. 

We are now in the post-purpose era where brands (rightly) should no longer feel they need to take a moral stance on the political issues that hit our news feeds. It’s very possible to feel deeply concerned about the political instability in the US and still sell toothpaste without shouting about your concern from a rooftop 48 sheet or announcing it live on YouTube shorts. 

Equally, it’s very possible for brands to play in a culturally adjacent space to the World Cup without feeling that they’re in danger of committing cultural suicide or endorsing a toxic culture. By focusing on humour, emotion and joy you can play your part in the hopes, dreams (and likely heartbreak) of the English, Scottish and possibly the Northern Irish or Welsh national teams without risking a cultural backlash. Irn-Bru (non-sponsor) or Lidl (sponsor) both captured this brilliantly at UEFA Euro 2024

As an industry we should reappraise what culture (in a creative not political sense) means. For the record, it is not another “Vibes film” featuring your local pie’n’mash joint where an ex-pro appears disapprovingly over a newspaper, a barbershop in Peckham or a tattoo parlour where a rising baller gets a tattoo bearing his Nan’s name.

If you’re a sponsor, you’ve already grappled with the meaningful questions surrounding this World Cup and if you’re not a sponsor, then why not focus your marketing on the culture of a World Cup summer. One of mis-placed optimism, balmy evenings in pub gardens, kids being inspired to kick a ball about, football’s-coming-home memes and the inevitable heartbreak. 

So, stay out of politics and really give some thought to what represents culture to you and your customers. 

When sports and politics become so heavily intertwined in public discussion around a single event, there will inevitably be a hesitancy from brands who start to question their involvement. And yet, the opportunity is still too big to ignore. Sponsorship may carry more reputational risk than in previous years, but the global stage is simply too powerful to step away from entirely. The brands that get this right will do so by anchoring their approach around one thing: connection.

That means thinking first and foremost about the people who truly matter – the fans. They are the ones paying a premium to attend games, or staying up all night to watch from afar. They’re the ones who show an unwavering loyalty to their teams, and carry a genuine love for the sport.  Ultimately, they are the audience marketers need to reach. Now is the time to go back to basics. Marketers should strip away the wider noise and ask a simple question: what do fans need to hear from you right now and what can you provide that others can’t?

In what could be a chaotic World Cup, brands would do well to inject positivity into the experience, as let’s be honest, we can’t always rely on our teams to do so. This is a moment to be the brand that brings joy, the unexpected, or if brand appropriate, a laugh. Making light of the shared frustrations around timezone challenges, solving a practical problem, or adding something unforeseen to the fan journey is a strong place to start.

Above all, campaigns should reduce the noise and focus on the love of the game. Show fans they aren’t alone in their commitment. Reflect their emotions, rituals, and passion, and align your brand with the reality of what it feels like to be a supporter during this tournament.

But don’t fall into the trap of short-term thinking. The World Cup may be fairly fleeting for fans (some more than others), but it shouldn’t be for brands. If marketers get the messaging right, they can build a sponsorship platform strong enough to carry through to the next Women’s World Cup, and beyond. 

When Diana Ross stepped up for her infamous penalty at the 1994 World Cup opening ceremony, it was positioned as a bit of showbiz fun. Yet thirty years on, the stakes feel a lot higher, and this time brands can’t afford to miss the spot.

The 2026 FIFA World Cup is being sold as the biggest cultural moment in modern sport. From a sports marketing perspective, that’s true on paper, with its scale, reach and sponsorship upside. But culturally, this tournament is crowded with politics, pricing concerns, fan anxiety and ethical scrutiny. For brands, sponsors and fans alike, the risk isn’t being present. It’s being present badly, and shooting wide of the mark whilst shouting into a microphone in front of billions of people. 

We all know from a brand point of view that just showing up with your logo plastered over the tournament is dangerously outdated. Visibility without values now comes across as basic opportunism. So, sponsors need to be clear on why they’re there and what they’re adding beyond budget. 

And from a fan perspective, this FIFA World Cup already feels extractive: high ticket prices, complex travel (for those that can even get there) and political uncertainty. The opportunity is to actively reduce friction, to make it easier, fairer or more enjoyable to be a fan.

So, what should brands do differently? Shift from association to contribution. Invest in fan-first initiatives, to the heart of fan communities, with clear ethical standards and community impact that can be felt during the tournament. This is what we call Fancom at its most simple - brands understanding that they are not just talking to individual fans but interconnected communities of like-minded supporters with shared values. 

Why do this? Because for brands this summer, culture isn’t borrowed, it’s negotiated. And brands that help fans and communities enjoy the game, rather than just monetise it, are far more likely to actually hit the back of the net. 

The 2026 FIFA World Cup is definitely a bit of a paradox. On paper, it is the massive global moment everyone has been waiting for, but the reality on the ground feels messier. Between the ticket costs and the political friction, plenty of marketing teams are understandably nervous about how to show up without getting caught in the crossfire. My take would be that you don't actually need to be at the stadium to get involved.

If the official side of things feels too heavy or disconnected from real life, brands could look at the living room instead. The true spirit of sport isn’t sitting in a luxury suite. It's in the back gardens, pubs, and on sofas. That is where the actual connection lives, and could be a more grounded space for a brand to exist in right now.

This is where platforms like Vupop are starting to change the game. Instead of fighting for the rights to polished broadcast clips, brands can source and license footage directly from the people watching.

It works like a digital bridge: a brand puts out a specific "call for content" - maybe asking for the best reaction to a penalty - and fans upload their raw videos through the app. The software handles the licensing and permissions automatically, so the brand gets legally cleared, high-energy content in minutes. It is a way to keep your messaging human while actually rewarding fans for the stories they are already telling.

This approach lets you be more agile. You don't need to wait for a global team to approve a post. You can lean into the jokes and the local stories that the big sponsors sometimes overlook. This provides a way for both unofficial and official partners to tap into fan culture in real time, making the brand feel like a genuine part of the community.