How the World Cup Explains the World

Every four years, the World Cup brings the whole planet together around one sport: soccer. In 2026, teams from 48 countries are competing across the United States, Canada, and Mexico. Atlantic writer Franklin Foer recently spoke about what this year's tournament tells us about the world. Foer wrote a famous book called How Soccer Explains the World more than 20 years ago, and he says many of his ideas still hold up today.

Foer admits he expected to dislike this World Cup before it started. He worried that politics — like the FIFA Peace Prize given to Donald Trump — would overshadow the games. But once the matches began, those worries faded. 'Every time a World Cup gets started, all of the politics tends to recede because people just focus on the spectacle,' Foer said.

Atlantic host Hanna Rosin had a similar change of heart. She struggled with expensive and confusing ticket systems and was frustrated by FIFA's politics. Then she went to a game with her son and felt pure joy. She watched a Haitian fan explain the Haitian Revolution to a Scottish history lover, while Scottish fans taught Haitians the words to one of their chants.

Foer wrote his book right after the September 11 attacks in 2001. He wanted to know whether growing global connection would erase old tribal loyalties — the strong feelings people have for their home teams, towns, and countries. His big finding was that it did not. Even as soccer became a global business, fans kept their fierce attachments to their clubs and national teams.

The World Cup feels different from everyday club soccer. At the World Cup, players must represent the country where they were born or have roots, with no billionaire owners calling the shots. Foer calls it 'a relief' for fans to cheer for a national team where players are clearly motivated by pride, not just paychecks. Rosin noticed that fans booed loudly when FIFA officials appeared on stadium screens.

One of the most exciting stories of this tournament is the rise of smaller nations. The 2026 World Cup expanded from 32 to 48 teams, adding countries like Cape Verde and Curaçao. Many people expected those smaller teams to lose badly, but instead they have competed surprisingly well. Foer says the reason is diaspora — players whose families come from those countries but who grew up and trained in Europe's top soccer academies.

Foer sees this as a kind of historical payback. European countries once colonized much of Africa and the Caribbean, and over time people from those places moved to Europe. Their children became skilled soccer players, and now some are returning to represent their ancestral homelands. 'You see this revenge of the colonized nation,' Foer said, 'where they're able to play at a much higher level than anybody anticipated.'

Cape Verde's goalkeeper, nicknamed Vozinha, became one of the tournament's biggest stars by helping his small island nation hold off Spain. His mother even received a visa to travel and watch him play in person. Stories like his are exactly why Foer values the World Cup's every-four-years schedule — playing it more often, he fears, would make it feel less special.

When it comes to predictions, Foer says Argentina, France, and England are the strongest teams he has seen. He is especially amazed by Lionel Messi, who is older than most top players but has adjusted his game brilliantly. Foer compares Messi to composer Beethoven, who created some of his greatest music after going deaf — wisdom and adaptation replacing raw speed and power.

Soccer's rise in the United States has been a long journey. For decades it was seen as a niche sport for immigrants or elites, and some politicians even called it 'un-American.' But today soccer celebrities are mainstream stars, and young Americans have grown up playing the game. Foer believes the sport could one day draw Super Bowl-level audiences for the World Cup final.

Foer ends with a hopeful thought about what the World Cup can teach us. He says the best kind of politics mixes strong loyalty to your own community with an openness to the rest of the world. The World Cup does exactly that — letting fans feel fierce national pride while cheering for underdogs from countries they have never thought much about. 'It kinda makes us all cosmopolitan nationalists,' Foer said.