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There is a particular kind of dread that settles over a football writer when a theoretical problem becomes a practical one. For months, critics of the expanded World Cup format have warned that a 48-team group stage, split into 16 groups of three, would eventually produce a situation where two sides could simply shake hands on a draw and both progress. That moment, it turns out, is not coming. It is already here.
BBC Sport has identified two matches in the final round of group games where the arithmetic is such that a draw would suit both teams perfectly well, thank you very much. No need for anyone to break sweat. No need for anyone to take a risk. Just 90 minutes of careful, mutually agreeable non-football, followed by a polite handshake and a trip to the knockout rounds.
This is not paranoia. This is not a hypothetical constructed by format sceptics. This is the group stage doing exactly what its structure invites it to do.
The Geometry of the Problem
The issue is architectural. When you split 48 teams into 16 groups of three rather than the traditional four, you end up with a final matchday where only one game is played per group. In the old 32-team format, the final two group games kicked off simultaneously precisely to prevent collusion. You could not fix a result when you did not know what the other match was producing in real time.
With three-team groups, that safeguard evaporates. One game. Two teams. Full knowledge of what they need. The incentive to play for a specific, pre-calculated result is not a side effect of the format. It is baked into the geometry of it.
FIFA’s answer to this concern, when it has bothered to provide one, has been vague reassurances about sporting integrity protocols and the threat of sanctions. Which is a bit like designing a car without brakes and then handing the driver a strongly worded letter about road safety.
Scotland, Brazil, and the Human Cost of Bad Structure
While the structural debate simmers, the tournament itself has been delivering genuine drama, which makes the format’s flaws feel all the more frustrating. Scotland were beaten convincingly by Brazil, leaving their hopes of progression hanging by the thinnest of threads. That is a real story, with real emotional weight, involving a nation that has waited decades for moments like this.
The cruelty of Scotland’s situation is that they played, competed, and lost to a better side. That is sport. What is not sport is the possibility that elsewhere in the draw, two teams will decide the outcome of their match in a training ground meeting rather than on a pitch. The contrast between those two scenarios is the clearest argument against the format anyone could construct.
Scotland’s xG across their group games tells a story of a side that created chances but lacked the clinical edge to convert them. Against Brazil, the gap in individual quality was simply too wide to paper over with tactical discipline. Manager Steve Clarke will be acutely aware that his side needed maximum points from their remaining fixture, and that their fate now depends partly on results they cannot influence.
The Tournament Has Been Good Despite FIFA, Not Because of It
Here is the uncomfortable truth that the format debate tends to obscure: the football at this World Cup has been, by and large, rather good. The Guardian’s Barney Ronay, reviewing the tournament’s first fortnight, described it as “really sparky and perky and a reminder that international football is something people actually do for passion.” That is a fair assessment. The group stage has produced genuine upsets, tactical variety, and the sort of collective joy that only a World Cup generates.
Ronay also noted, with characteristic precision, that FIFA’s involvement has been “horribly compromised” by everything from mid-half advertising breaks to Gianni Infantino’s apparent determination to attend every match simultaneously via private jet. The tournament inspires joy and unity in spite of its governing body, not because of it. That distinction matters.
The mid-half advertising breaks deserve particular mention here, because they represent the same philosophical problem as the three-team groups. Both are decisions that prioritise revenue and expansion over the integrity of the spectacle. You do not interrupt a football match for an advert. You do not design a group stage that incentivises collusion. These are not difficult principles. FIFA has simply decided they are negotiable.
What the Banned Brands Told Us
There is a broader pattern worth noting. BBC Sport’s piece on brands banned from the World Cup becoming the story made the point elegantly: when you try to suppress something, you often make it more visible. FIFA’s aggressive protection of its commercial partners has had the predictable effect of drawing attention to exactly the companies it wanted kept quiet.
The same logic applies to the format criticism. Every time a dead rubber materialises, every time two teams play out a calculated stalemate, FIFA’s insistence that 48 teams represents progress rather than dilution will be amplified rather than quietened. The banned brands story and the collusion risk story are, at root, the same story. An organisation so focused on protecting its own interests that it has lost the ability to see how those interests damage the product.
The 48-team format was always going to produce these moments. The question was when, not whether.
What Happens Next
The knockout rounds, assuming we get there without too much reputational damage to the group stage, should provide the tournament with a second wind. The World Cup’s knockout format is largely self-correcting. Once you are into last-16 territory, the incentive structures align properly. Win or go home is a clean proposition that does not require structural engineering.
But the group stage will linger. If the two matches BBC Sport identified do produce the draws that the mathematics invite, FIFA will face a reckoning that its communications team will struggle to manage. You cannot simultaneously claim that 48 teams represents a democratisation of world football and then watch two sides play out a pre-cooked stalemate in front of a global audience.
The World Cup remains the greatest sporting event on earth. That is not in question. What is in question is whether FIFA’s stewardship of it is making it better or simply bigger. Bigger and better are not synonyms, however many times Infantino implies otherwise from the back of a private jet.
Scotland’s elimination, if it comes, will be sporting. They played, they competed, they fell short against superior opposition. That is the World Cup working as intended. A calculated draw between two sides gaming the group stage is the World Cup working as designed. The difference between those two sentences is the entire argument.
For those wanting to follow the remaining group-stage permutations and the knockout rounds as they develop, our guide to watching football online in 2026 covers the broadcast landscape across different territories. The FootyGazette watch page has further detail on coverage options.
The Premier League will resume in August with its own structural debates intact. But right now, the most pressing question in football is simpler: will two teams, knowing exactly what they need, decide the outcome of a World Cup group game before a ball is kicked? The format says they can. History says they might. FIFA, presumably, is hoping nobody notices.
Frequently Asked Questions
Why does the 48-team World Cup format create a collusion risk?
The 16 groups of three teams mean only one match is played on the final group matchday. Both teams know exactly what result they need, and if a draw suits both sides, there is no structural safeguard preventing them from playing for it. The old 32-team format ran final group games simultaneously to eliminate this possibility.
Has collusion actually happened at a World Cup before?
The most cited example is the 1982 West Germany versus Austria match, known as the Disgrace of Gijón, where a 1-0 win for West Germany sent both sides through at Algeria’s expense. That result prompted FIFA to introduce simultaneous final group fixtures, a safeguard the 48-team format has now partially dismantled.
What is Scotland’s situation at the 2026 World Cup?
Scotland were beaten convincingly by Brazil in their second group game, leaving their qualification hopes extremely fragile. Their progress now depends on results in their final fixture and, potentially, results elsewhere in the group.
What are the mid-half advertising breaks at the 2026 World Cup?
FIFA introduced advertising breaks during the first half of group-stage matches at the 2026 tournament, a decision widely criticised as an intrusion into the flow of the game. Critics including the Guardian’s Barney Ronay have pointed to them as evidence of FIFA prioritising commercial revenue over the integrity of the spectacle.
Will the 48-team format continue beyond 2026?
FIFA has given no indication of reversing the expansion. The 2030 and 2034 World Cups are both scheduled under the 48-team model. Whether the structural problems visible in 2026 prompt any format adjustments, such as moving to 12 groups of four, remains to be seen.
