Leadership is demonstrated not by the appearance of control — but by what a leader does when control begins to slip
By Yoko Li
Less than a week. That was all it took for Gianni Infantino’s US$20 billion commercial gamble to collapse under a revolt by the football bodies he needed most.
The speed of the reversal captures the paradox of FIFA’s 2026 crisis: its president kept winning tactical battles while steadily losing trust, allies, and control of the story. For communications professionals, the episode offers lessons in how a leader can turn a crowning achievement into a reputational catastrophe.
The crisis unfolded in four acts: a secret deal, a costly image fix, a media attack, and an apology that failed to repair the damage.
The secret that backfired – and why bypassing stakeholders fails
The first and most fundamental error was the decision to bypass stakeholders entirely. In July 2026, Infantino secretly crafted the FIFA Forward Enterprise (FFE) proposal: a plan to spin off 20% of FIFA’s commercial rights — valued at approximately US$20 billion — to private investors, including Thrive Capital, a firm conveniently founded by Joshua Kushner, the younger brother of US President Trump’s son-in-law, Jared Kushner.
The people whose support he needed learned of the plan only after it was announced. Their response was swift. UEFA President Aleksander Čeferin branded it a “dark, non-transparent, back-room deal”, and all 55 UEFA member associations voted unanimously to boycott FIFA competitions unless it was withdrawn. The AFC and CONCACAF joined them, bringing the opposition to 143 of FIFA’s 211 member associations, more than enough to block the proposal. The AFC criticised FIFA of “failing to consult about the secretive proposal”and called for an “urgent review of FIFA‘s governance and decision-making frameworks”. Even Infantino’s senior adviser Carlos Cordeiro who had represented FIFA on the White House World Cup Working Group resigned publicly, saying he had “not been involved in this secret investment plan and unequivocally opposes it”.
Four days after the announcement, Infantino withdrew the proposal. The failure was not simply that stakeholders disliked the deal; it was that secrecy gave them a common cause. Major strategic decisions require meaningful consultation before execution begins. Ignore key stakeholders during planning, and they may unite against what has been planned. As Čeferin observed, Infantino “has not secured the support — not only the political support of the voters, but the political support of the football community, of the fans, of the players, of the former players, and of the coaches”. As is often said, “Once you lose the dressing room, no tactical manoeuvre can save you”.
The image contract — why you can’t outsource trust
The proposal was gone, but the story was no longer about one failed transaction. It was now about how Infantino exercised power, and how far FIFA would go to protect that image.
The second disaster unfolded as the crisis deepened. Just as Infantino was sinking under legal scrutiny and mounting calls for his resignation, The Times revealed that FIFA had signed a 22‑month contract with London‑based agency Ten Toes Media in March 2025, worth approximately £2.3 million. The contract explicitly required the agency to “protect the image of FIFA and the president, and elevate the standing of the organisation”. It also demanded “the support, analytics and tools needed to improve the planning, execution and control of the storytelling narrative, in line with the president’s vision”.
This revelation, surfacing at Infantino‘s most vulnerable moment, fuelled further outrage over his leadership style. The optics could hardly have been worse: a leader engulfed in a crisis of his own making, spending millions on personal image repair while the football community demanded accountability.
The lesson is uncomfortable but essential. Public relations cannot cure fundamentally flawed leadership. External image advisers can polish a narrative, but they cannot permanently conceal repeated breaches of trust with a core audience. When an organisation spends millions to “protect” its leader’s image, the public may read the expense not as commitment, but as an attempt to evade accountability. Effective communication must begin by repairing the leadership behaviour itself, not by plastering PR band-aids over deep institutional wounds.
The media attack – why attacking journalists deepens a crisis
The strategy then changed. Controlling the narrative gave way to confronting the people reporting it.
The third error was perhaps the most baffling.
At the conclusion of the World Cup, with FIFA already engulfed in crisis, Infantino chose to escalate tensions by launching an extraordinary attack on the media. In a 15‑slide Instagram manifesto, he accused journalists of “spreading hate and false rumours” and suggested they had been too “consumed by hate and criticism” to appreciate the tournament. Addressing critics directly, he wrote: “To those behind their pens and papers, behind their screens spreading hate and false rumours, I want to say that while you are sitting behind, we at FIFA are on the front lines organising, working hard, and delivering the best show in the world”. He concluded with a pointed message: “To the pens and papers, to all the screens, may you find love and peace where the people behind you couldn’t”.
Rather than owning those failures, Infantino attacked the messengers who reported on them. The Observer described his initial statement as “a diatribe against unspecified critics”.
The lesson is clear, when you are in a crisis, the media is not your enemy – it is your primary channel to your stakeholders. Attacking journalists does not make the negative coverage disappear; it makes you look defensive, out of touch, and incapable of accountability. When an organisation spends millions polishing its leader’s image while that leader publicly attacks the journalists covering the crisis, the public sees not strength, but insecurity.
An apology that couldn’t save him – why words without accountability ring hollow
Ten days later, facing a crisis meeting, Infantino issued a formal apology to the FIFA Council, acknowledging that “errors were made” in the handling of the FFE proposal and that “FIFA Council and member associations were not intended to be excluded from the process, and it should have been handled differently”. He also admitted that “errors were made after the proposal was leaked to the media” and promised a review to be presented at the next Council meeting.
Yet any goodwill the apology might have generated was undermined by what accompanied it. Infantino insisted that “everything done was in full compliance with FIFA’s regulatory framework”, a self-defence that undercut the sincerity of his admission. He warned that FIFA “will not tolerate any attacks on its integrity, good governance or due process”, a threat that turned a moment of contrition into a signal of defiance. And he made clear he had no intention of resigning, signalling that accountability would stop short of his own position.
The result was predictable: UEFA reaffirmed its loss of confidence, the English FA withdrew its support, and the threat of a boycott persisted. An apology that hedges, threatens, and refuses accountability is not a repair, it is a performance. Stakeholders do not want qualifications; they want ownership. They do not want warnings; they want change. And they do not want promises of future reviews; they want evidence that lessons have already been learned. If a leader cannot offer that, then no apology, however carefully worded, can restore what has been broken.
The contrast with Norwegian Air could not be sharper. Norwegian lost a bet and won admiration by meeting embarrassment with humour and grace. Infantino presided over a commercially successful World Cup that proceeded without major incident yet lost the trust of the football community around it. His four failures formed a chain: secrecy triggered revolt; image management deepened suspicion; attacks on the media magnified the crisis; and an apology, hedged with self-defence and threats, could not repair the underlying breach.
The conclusion goes beyond PR technique. Leadership is demonstrated not by the appearance of control — but by what a leader does when control begins to slip. Tactical wins can sustain a tournament but not sustain legitimacy. And once legitimacy is gone, no amount of spin can bring it back.