The 2026 FIFA World Cup, set to unfold across Canada, Mexico, and the United States, is shaping up to be more than just a political and logistical challenge—it is on track to become the most environmentally damaging tournament in football history. With greenhouse gas emissions projected to hit nearly double the historical average, scientists warn that the event could generate approximately 9 million tonnes of carbon dioxide equivalent, primarily driven by air travel.
FIFA's decision to expand the field from 32 to 48 teams and spread matches across a continent-sized geographic footprint has made carbon-intensive flights virtually unavoidable. The sheer scale of team and fan movement—often zigzagging thousands of kilometers—represents an own goal for an organization that publicly touts its commitment to sustainability.
The travel itineraries for some nations underline the absurdity. Bosnia and Herzegovina, for instance, faces a grueling journey of more than 5,000km, starting in Toronto before heading to Los Angeles and Seattle, with their training camp based in Salt Lake City adding yet more carbon miles. Algeria is slated to log about 4,800km from Kansas City to San Francisco and back, while Czechia begins in Guadalajara, then travels to Atlanta and Mexico City, covering over 4,500km. Such schedules not only strain players physically but also inflate the tournament’s carbon budget to record levels.
This environmental profligacy follows years of empty green rhetoric from football's governing body. Ahead of the 2022 Qatar World Cup, FIFA president Gianni Infantino urged fans to raise a "green card for the planet" and pledged a carbon-neutral event. Instead, Qatar became a carbon bomb in sporting disguise: daily shuttle flights, energy-intensive desalination, and spurious offset schemes rendered the promises hollow.
The 2026 edition, by contrast, makes Qatar look almost restrained. While the 2022 stadiums were clustered and linked by public transport, the North American venues demand mass air travel with few practical low-carbon alternatives. The tournament’s estimated emissions of 9 million tonnes of CO2 pale in comparison to a major nation’s annual output, but they symbolise a sport willfully ignoring the climate emergency.
Adding insult to injury, FIFA inked a four-year sponsorship deal with Saudi Aramco in 2024, the world’s largest corporate greenhouse gas emitter. Over 100 women’s footballers, including Canadian captain Jessie Fleming, publicly condemned the partnership, arguing that FIFA was choosing petrodollars over the planet’s future.
Beyond emissions, extreme heat poses a direct threat to those on the pitch. The Guardian’s analysis indicates that 26 matches could be played with wet bulb globe temperatures at or above 26°C, a level at which the global players’ union Fifpro says cooling breaks are needed. An academic study goes further, predicting that 14 of the 16 host cities are likely to average wet bulb globe temperatures exceeding 28°C in June and July—conditions that may warrant match suspension.
In response, FIFA has mandated three-minute hydration breaks in each half regardless of the weather, a move that critics call a belated half-measure. The air-conditioned stadiums in Houston, Dallas, and Atlanta offer some respite, but the energy required to cool these vast arenas only adds to the carbon footprint.
Dr Madeleine Orr, a sports ecologist at the University of Toronto, described the situation as an “absurd” lack of common-sense planning for anyone beyond elite athletes, with fans, staff, and volunteers left dangerously exposed to both heat and the broader climate fallout.
As the world’s most popular sporting event barrels toward a new emissions record, campaigners see a ticking clock for meaningful change. FIFA’s continued embrace of greenwashing and fossil fuel sponsors reveals an institution that has failed to grasp the stakes of a warming planet.
Based on reporting from The Guardian.