Defined through the “hidden persuaders”, (the book by Vance Packard “The Hidden Persuaders – The Psychology of Advertising”) it is clear that Gianni Infantino did not become a celebrity through evolution, but through methodical engineering. His PR team uses neuromarketing and semiotic manipulation to transform a Swiss lawyer into a pop-cultural brand ahead of the final on July 19 and the first “Halftime Show” in the history of the World Cup.
In order to understand this transition from administration to show business, the messages being sent into viewers’ subconscious must be decoded. Unlike Sepp Blatter, who ruled from the shadows, Infantino uses a strategy of “friendly accessibility”. The location of his operational center in Miami represents a conscious relocation from Zurich to the arena of the global entertainment industry. He is no longer coded as the president of an organization, but as an equal member of the global elite.
At the same time, the narrative of the “world’s first fan” is unfolding. The rule for broadcasters that Infantino must not be shown if he is looking at a mobile phone represents key evidence of myth creation. The phone signals a loss of focus and business. A shot in which he follows the match with an emotional expression on his face creates the illusion of a man who lives football with a pure heart, redirecting attention from corporate topics to pure, simulated empathy.
The World Cup itself, which for decades was a festival of basic national belonging and tradition, has been turned into a corporate fair built for the needs of global capital. The championship logo itself, where the identity of the host countries has been completely removed and a photograph of the golden trophy placed bare at the center, is material evidence of yet another “hidden persuasion”. The tournament is no longer celebrated, the trophy itself and the corporation that owns it are celebrated. Under the draconian rules of the “clean stadium” policy (Clean Stadium Policy), every corporate name that has not paid hundreds of millions into FIFA’s coffers is physically erased.
The most brutal paradox of this engineering is reflected in the price of tickets for the final at MetLife Stadium. While the PR team feeds us the slogan “Football unites the world!”, suggesting popular unity and togetherness, the financial barrier communicates something entirely different. Infantino brazenly defends these prices with “market logic”, thereby making it clear who the real target group is. The final is not designed for the millions beside their screens.
The announced halftime spectacle represents a turning point – it is a combination of the Americanization and Super Bowl-ization of football culture – “Infantinoization”.
Watching this dystopian transformation into entertainment, it is impossible not to recall Packard’s warning about the conscious extinguishing of critical awareness. Viewers’ attention is deliberately dulled in order to create a chronic loss of sensitivity to their own exclusion.
The spectacle will gain its full context only after the final whistle and the outcome of the final match between Spain and Argentina. In the ceremonial box, “Johnny”, as Donald Trump affectionately calls him, will stand shoulder to shoulder so that they can award the trophy and medals together. The geopolitical arrangement on the podium will be a reflection of Washington’s current relations with the world: the presence of Spanish King Felipe VI and Argentine President Javier Milei is expected.
Within that highly controlled ceremony, where the sports box is transformed into a global summit of football populism and corporate capital, it only remains to be seen how and to what extent the final act of the World Cup will truly contribute to the image and reputation of the world’s powerful figures in attendance, who have understood the scale and significance of football (all too) well.
Yes, the elections for the FIFA president are next year…
