The so-called beautiful game is scarred with a frankly ugly desire for money. FIFA’s love affair with wealth is tragically transparent, sitting there plainly for all to see while getting ignored or even mistaken by some for a symbol of the sport’s splendour.

This obsessive attitude towards wealth is most prominent whenever the time rolls around for FIFA to choose a host for the latest instalment of its marquee competition, the men’s football World Cup. During these decisions, the finger naturally points to the country with the thickest wallet, yet FIFA’s recent selection of Saudi Arabia as the host nation for the 2034 World Cup does much more than this - it firmly places the value of money above any and all ethical considerations.

We’re talking about a country where many have expressed concerns over its human rights record, dissent is often silenced, and LGBTQ+ rights are non-existent. These considerations, according to FIFA, are subservient to the prospect of a fine spectacle. This is deeply unnerving but by no means the full story.

“When money talks, however, FIFA listens – and as much as we may deny it, so do we”

According to Steve Cockburn, Amnesty International’s Head of Labour Rights and Sport, “FIFA set clear human rights standards that any bidding country must meet, yet it is clear that Saudi Arabia’s bid for the 2034 World Cup currently falls far short.”

Saudi Arabia’s World Cup human rights plan refuses to acknowledge the inhumane suppression often experienced by activists in the kingdom, or even outline whether it will put an end to the abusive kafala system that exploits migrant workers. Tragically, the previous World Cup in Qatar saw hundreds of workers lose their lives as a result of mixing overly ambitious stadium-building with a complete lack of care for those stadium-builders. In 2034, FIFA will be embracing a host nation that not only failed its human rights test but whose ambitions extend even further (11 new stadiums and a ‘future city’ lie at the heart of the proposals). An even more depressing process is thus all but guaranteed if the show is allowed to go on in 2034.

You’d think that the biggest sporting spectacle in the world would invite an equally large amount of scrutiny. When money talks, however, FIFA listens – and as much as we may deny it, so do we.

The Qatar World Cup of 2022 acts as a prime example of how complicit we have been in fostering FIFA’s toxic relationship with ‘sportswashing’ nations that hide their atrocities with a flattering budget. Sure, we had serious concerns before the last World Cup and staged somewhat meaningful protests during the tournament. We were even still bitterly upset after the tournament - yet more so about football not coming home, if we’re honest, nothing else. That’s a telling unmasking of where our priorities truly lie.

So, what can we do differently to get it right this time? This seems to be a particularly tricky question to answer. While I believe that the response to host the last men’s World Cup in Qatar was not sufficient, an outright boycott of the event would’ve been simply implausible. The question of what we can do, however, is not as important as that of when we should start. And the answer to the latter? Now.

“We are still at an early enough stage to prevent Saudi Arabia from even hosting this World Cup”

The biggest problem with the response to Qatar was that it was far too late. Protests, petitions, and symbolic acts of rebellion did an admirable job of signalling distaste about an awful situation, but it’s far better to avoid the awful situation in the first place. With just under a decade to go until the event itself, and with only three of the 11 proposed stadiums having already begun their construction, we are still at an early enough stage to prevent Saudi Arabia from even hosting this World Cup.

Of course, this may seem doubtful given the dictator-like fashion with which FIFA has gone about making its decisions of late, all but ignoring any opposition. However, there is hope. FIFA, as an organisation, belongs to an inherently democratic industry; football exists because of the fans, and so it’s the fans who wield the power to truly control the game.

Sure, mobilising the entirety or even anything close to a majority of the global football fan population is likely an impossible task. Yet a vocal and passionate minority will do a better job than a disinterested majority in putting immense pressure on FIFA to reverse their decision.

Applying this kind of pressure involves a significant change in attitude from us fans. FIFA needs to know that the world’s love for football is deep enough to care about issues that they assume to be superficially important but not genuinely vital. Through protests, petitions, and civil disobedience at events (in as many numbers as possible), we can start sending this message more brutally with the help of some more radical grit.

At the very least, we must start earlier and fight harder than the last time we were faced with this dilemma. That way, even if we do fall to a cruel dictatorship, we would have given the issue enough attention to attract a pivotal moment of reflection in the world of football.

Do not let the prospect of a grand footballing phenomenon, therefore, cloud what I hope is an intuitive judgement against it. A repeat of Qatar is where we’re headed, and this country will be ashamed of a lot more than just another knockout-stage exit if we let ourselves get there.