Culture of Silence

Footballers... Engaging in important social discourse... Commenting on politics.. Making a tangible difference?!

Someone pinch me!

To be specific, two black footballers speaking out in the press about their concern for the rising wave of right-wing, anti-immigrant politics that was threatening to take control over the country that they represent.

The footballers are Kylian Mbappe and Marcus Thuram. The country is France. The speaking out happened on the eve of their opening Euro 2024 game, a tournament hosted in Germany – another European country dealing with a rise in far-right sentiment, and was in response to Marine Le Pen’s National Rally’s (RN) rising popularity across France in the lead-up to their upcoming election.

Mbappe, widely considered the best player in the world, didn’t refer specifically to RN but did say this:

“I’m calling to vote against extremists that want to divide the country. I want to be proud to wear this shirt, I don't want to represent a country that doesn't represent my values."

This came after his compatriot and Inter Milan player Marcus Thuram implored citizens to fight against the RN getting into power.

The response has been mixed. There have been those who question the two’s ability to speak to the French people, given they are exponentially wealthy and no longer ‘in touch’ with the masses they are appealing to. And there have been those who’ve praised them for engaging with their responsibility as role models, particularly for the young and disenfranchised.

(As always – a few who insist they’d prefer them to stick to football.)***

RN have since fallen far short in the Parliamentary elections – a projected first has turned into a very real third place – and the left-wing alliance New Popular Front have come first instead.

As happy as it makes me to see a nation reject the anti-immigration, divisive politics employed by the right-wing - what interests me, however, is those who see the political activism and have begun to wonder – should we expect more footballers to do the same?

John Stones recently told media  that it had been a ‘politics free’ zone in the England camp so far in their Euros campaign. Speaking to the media about how politics is not a discussed topic amongst the England camp I found disappointing. A group of highly wealthy and influential young men apparently not engaging in any political discussion between each other has the smell of privilege to it  – especially given the political moment back in England and the contrast we have in France. In an already polarized society, the normalization of political dialogue and debate by these role models could only serve the greater good. Outside of football – Emma Raducanu even told us that she didn’t realise the general election was happening – I assume due to her laser focus on the tournament. rolls eyes “how impressive.”

We watch these players don the colours of their respective countries, sing the anthem and engage with the fans. It evokes an important question. Why shouldn’t they, as citizens, engage publicly more with the general issues of the country, especially in moments of political importance?

When it comes to celebrities, our position on this is clear. We expect them to speak on major current issues and show us where they stand. For example, DJ Khaled, a very well-known American DJ and record producer who also was born to Palestinian parents, has come under widespread criticism for his silence on the Israel/Gaza conflict. His name appears on many surfacing boycott lists: scores of names whose fans have decided to stop listening to, following, watching, and all round supporting because of their position or, lack of, on the subject.

But footballers have been allowed to live outside of these lines for a long time. While political statements and social activism isn’t a new thing in sport (see black power salute at 1968 Olympics), a political opinion is rarely an expectation we hold for an athlete.

We, the viewers, generally accept that we will get sports from our sports stars and rarely anything else. Some modelling, potentially. Funny soundbites in interviews, perhaps. But engaging in meaningful discourse is not part of our expectation.

On the face of it, sports is a physical pursuit. We watch them perform, admire their speed and power, marvel at their skill and finesse, and applaud the hard-work we know has been required to refine all of the above.

Sports is sports. Athletes are athletes. Footballers are footballers. For a long time, this has gone unquestioned.

Now, an increasingly loud group of watchers are craving something different.

Now, footballers are brands. Brands that are leveraged for increased income, adoration from fans, and to attract lucrative brand deals. We enjoy increased access to their lives and the opportunity to know them on what feels like a more personal level, ignoring the reality that what we are allowed to see is all part of a carefully and intentionally curated image. Now they’ve developed a taste for it, some fans thirst for more frequent, authentic interaction– and their opinions on what is happening outside of sport is part of this yearning.

Often, curating one of these brands means avoiding controversy. It means not saying anything that could potentially alienate part of a market you could eventually profit from, manager you might come across, owner who may want to buy you, or even fanbase you could end up playing for. The easy way to avoid these problems is saying nothing of any real consequence.

Footballers are already subjected to high levels of abuse and criticism because of the nature of their job. They are paid well for this, so it is a begrudgingly accepted part of competing in a sport with high viewership.

Putting a more personal part of yourself out there to be criticised, with no prospect of financial gain but rather the risk of damaging possible earning potential understandably doesn’t make sense to many, especially those who prioritize the preservation of their personal wealth. *

A story like Anwar El Ghazi’s, a former Premier League player who was dismissed by his club, Mainz 05, for speaking out against Israel and their actions against Palestine, serve as a reminder about the worst-case repercussions for a footballer who steps too far outside his box.

This fear of speaking out, of stepping outside the accepted norm, is the product of years of social conditioning they undergo before reaching a point where their name may be recognized. Most of it is covert, and many players may even refuse to acknowledge it. Rest assured; it exists.

I’m going to explain how it happens.

As any former or current academy players will be aware – being labelled as a player with an ‘attitude problem’ is the kiss of death. It can be the difference between a flourishing career and one that is snuffed out in its infancy. Often, instead of working with pubescent players to overcome issues with acting out, immaturity, and managing emotions, it is easier for clubs to give up and let them go – telling their colleagues at other clubs of the players ‘issues’ and tarnishing their ability to be re-signed. As brutal as this process is, it is a normal part of high-level sport. Young players are competing with one another from as early as eight or nine years old - only the strongest and most viable survive. Coaches talk to one another. Information on players spreads quickly.

Where the issues lie, and I saw this frequently throughout my years in academies, is when having an ‘attitude problem’ and simply being a headstrong individual, one who doesn’t simply ‘get their head down’, are conflated.

‘Get your head down’ is an interesting turn of phrase – and one that goes a long way to describe the mindset you’ll often find in football. Commonly used when talking about periods where athletes work hard and make progress, the connotations of the phrase are obvious – eyes on the feet and the ball and nothing else. The repetitive feeding and positive framing of this language to young and impressionable children and teens continues to reinforce the idea that success and working hard is a result of focusing on purely football and not being noticed for anything except that. John Stones’ mention of a ‘politics free zone’, presumably to illustrate the collective focus on the tournament at hand, shows us how this mindset lives on in senior players.

As a scholar, I remember a specific moment where a senior coach labelled a group of players (myself included) as those who ‘had question marks’ over their attitude and character. There were quite a few of us, and the players who were left out of this were almost entirely from the local area, had been at the club for a long time and had learnt the ‘head down work hard’ style that was usually rewarded. Now, getting your head down is not necessarily a bad thing, but for those of who came from abroad or London and Manchester based clubs, learning that the flair and individuality that we’d previously been praised for was now called ‘being flashy’, ‘arrogant’ or most commonly ‘big time’, was a huge culture shock.

 Football clubs and academies are set up so that often there are one or two main decision makers that can deeply affect the trajectory of a player’s career. If one of these takes a dislike to you, lets their inherent biases paint you, in their own minds, as a player who can’t be controlled or is arrogant, it can be catastrophic.

As Peter Brand says in one of my personal favourite films ‘Moneyball’ –

“People are overlooked for a variety of biased reasons and perceived flaws.”

Players are aware of this – and ensuring you are only seen to be performing on the pitch and not producing any potential ‘headache’ off it becomes a priority. At their worst, these unbalanced power structures have produced disgraces like Barry Bennell. While the safeguards in place hopefully will prevent any such repeat, individual bias and error is near-impossible to cater for in an opinion-based industry, and injustice in inevitable.

Another academy memory of mine is playing in tournament style games in training as a teenager in which the coaches would set us up in teams of geographical origin. Somehow the mixed-race kid from Basingstoke would end up in the ‘London lads’ team, and the coach would gloat from the side about the lack of organisation and discipline that we played with.

As scholars, like most footballers do, I had arrived at a fork in the road. Either assimilate as a hard-working, quiet, earring free, Corsa-driving player who coaches could praise for changing their ways. Or fight the changing tide, be identified as one who couldn’t learn and wasted their talent, another lad with an ego who we’d talk about in years to come as a ‘what could’ve been’.  

Most of the boys who didn’t conform don’t play football anymore.

The ones of us that did, that learned quickly, usually escaped the suffocating academy environment with our careers intact. But not completely unscathed. Being told repeatedly about the consequences of ‘not getting your head down’ and holding up players who failed to do so and failed in their professional careers as examples leaves a mark.

The judgement you were subjected to engrains itself in your way of thinking, in your way of seeing other players. To this day, when I see an academy player with earrings or a flash car I assume he’s ‘big time’. A young player that talks too much is brushed off as ‘having himself’. Expressing any type of individualism before you’ve proved your worth as a football player is not commonly an accepted way of doing things. This knowledge follows players through their careers, forcing them to constantly question if they may speak or add to a conversation – and when it comes to social and political discourse, subjects out of their comfort zone, this can be even more debilitating.

Breaking rank and becoming a player who speaks out on issues one believes in is not only to stop worrying about one’s brand. It is to unlearn years of conditioning, both covert and overt, that was intended to create blank canvases, players who eat and breathe football, and know that success in their sport means not doing anything outside of it.

For the fans who expect more, who berate players for not speaking more openly, for not following in the steps of Mbappe and Thuram, ask yourselves – do you really want to know what we think? It’s easy to equate success with intelligence and moral integrity, to expect players who you relate to share your own beliefs and opinions, but the reality is often not the case.

How many readers of Harry Potter wish that JK Rowling never decided to die on the hill of criticizing trans women’s rights? How many lovers of The Smiths wish Morrissey kept his politics to himself?

As much as political activism and hearing more athletes’ opinions can and hopefully will be a vehicle for positive social change and conversation, it can just as easily be the opposite.

And to players – don’t allow your privilege to get in the way of your responsibility. Whether it be in public or in private, using your elevated position to help and set examples for those in need is the bare minimum.

*We could explore the neoliberal, highly individualised social structures we live within that caters to a mindset like this but that is another article for another time.

** https://www.theguardian.com/football/2023/sep/18/barry-bennell-dies-in-prison

*** I’ve put them in brackets because they're idiots.