I am exhausted. Not from the fourteen-hour first-class flight to Doha, nor from the grueling schedule of sponsored cocktail hours. I am exhausted by the relentless, suffocating negativity of the global working class. Every time I open my phone to post a picture of the pristine, air-conditioned pitch at Lusail Stadium, I am instantly bombarded by people bringing up the 6,500 migrant workers who allegedly died to build it. It is exhausting. There is a lot to gripe about, sure. But there is also a lot to like, provided you are staying in a five-star hotel paid for by a sovereign wealth fund.
Just yesterday, I was having lunch with a few members of the FIFA executive committee. Over a delightful spread of wagyu beef and imported truffles, we discussed the heavy toll this tournament has taken—not on the Nepalese laborers whose passports were confiscated, but on the brave executives who have had to endure weeks of bad public relations. One official looked me in the eye, his bespoke suit shimmering in the desert sun, and told me how hard it is to focus on the beautiful game when everyone keeps demanding basic human rights. I realized then that we in the media have done a terrible job of telling their side of the story.
Let us be clear: no one is saying that indentured servitude is perfect. But we must view these things with nuance. The people complaining about the Kafala system from their comfortable apartments in London and New York simply do not understand the sheer logistical miracle required to summon seven state-of-the-art stadiums out of the bare sand. If you want a gleaming, $220 billion infrastructure project completed on a strict timeline, you are going to have to crack a few eggs. Or, in this case, a few thousand South Asian laborers. But to reduce the entire tournament to a massive, unconscionable blood sacrifice is to miss the forest for the trees. The air conditioning in these stadiums works flawlessly. Do the critics ever mention that? No.
If you really think about it, giving hundreds of thousands of desperate people the opportunity to lay down their lives for a two-week corporate synergy event is the ultimate form of global inclusion.
Then there is the hand-wringing over the host nation's laws regarding the LGBTQ+ community. Are they ideal? Perhaps not. But as a straight, wealthy, well-connected journalist who has not experienced a single moment of persecution during my stay at the St. Regis, I can confidently say that the atmosphere here is incredibly welcoming. The locals have treated me with nothing but the utmost respect, provided I continue to look the other way when asked. It is arrogant for Westerners to demand that another culture immediately adopt their values, especially when that culture is handing us complimentary VIP lanyards.
People also complain about the environmental impact of air-conditioning open-air stadiums in the desert. But during a private tour of the cooling facilities with the Minister of Infrastructure, I learned that they offset the carbon footprint by simply reclassifying the emissions as cultural exchanges. It is this kind of innovative, out-of-the-box thinking that the mainstream media refuses to cover.
The truth is, much of the outrage is driven by simple jealousy. The people shouting the loudest about human rights abuses are usually the ones who couldn't secure a Platinum Hospitality Package. They are sitting at home, drinking tap water, watching on a basic cable package, and projecting their own economic anxieties onto a beautiful, flawless display of petro-state capitalism. When you are actually here, mingling with the global elite in the luxury boxes, the supposed horrors of the World Cup feel very far away. Because they physically are. The authorities have very helpfully bussed the impoverished workers far outside the city limits so they do not ruin the aesthetics of the fan zones.
We must also spare a thought for the true victims of this controversy: the corporate sponsors. I spoke off-the-record with a marketing executive at Anheuser-Busch who was nearly brought to tears describing the stress of having their beer banned from the stadiums at the last minute. He explained how deeply it hurt to pay $75 million to associate their brand with this festival of corruption, only to have the host nation suddenly enforce its own laws. These multi-national conglomerates are doing their best to navigate a complex geopolitical landscape while maximizing shareholder value. To demand they also possess a moral compass is simply unfair.
It is time to move on. We need to stop letting things like systemic exploitation, institutional bribery, and the complete collapse of democratic values get in the way of a good soccer match. As I prepare to head to the semi-finals, escorted by a private security detail that ensures I don't see anything unpleasant, I feel a profound sense of hope. The World Cup is a reminder that when the world comes together, pools its vast financial resources, and agrees to look the other way, there is absolutely nothing we cannot ignore.