COMMENT - Women's football is facing a breaking point


When then FIFA President Sepp Blatter prophesied in the 1990s that the future of football would be female, many considered it a crude attempt to pander. In 2011, Blatter admitted he himself didn't believe it. But a few years later, his statement seems prophetic. Women's football is growing like no other sport in the world. Before a single match has even been played, it's already clear that the European Championships at home will be a tournament of superlatives.
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The Euro, which begins on Wednesday, will surpass the record-breaking European Championship in England in every respect. Nearly 574,000 spectators attended the stadiums in 2022. In Switzerland, 677,000 tickets are available; according to UEFA, over 570,000 have already been sold. The organizers' goal is to sell out all stadiums. UEFA expects a television audience of 500 million, almost 50 percent more than in 2022. The prize money will increase from 16 to 40 million euros. Sponsors are discovering the potential of the sport, which is considered fresh and progressive and appeals to a young, female customer segment.
Women's football has developed rapidly, and the games are so entertaining that even the most stubborn critics are increasingly falling silent. It is no longer the derided appendage of men's football. It is on the verge of becoming what it always wanted to be: a sport in its own right.
So is everything finally okay? No.
As much as growth has been pursued for many years, it is increasingly confronting women's football with questions. These questions concern nothing less than the bigger picture: the sport's identity, the core that defines it.
Exclusion sharpens political awarenessTo understand why a sport affords itself the luxury of reflecting its own status and appeal, a brief detour into history is helpful. Women's football has never been just a sport. In today's major women's football nations—Germany, England, Spain, and France —women were banned from playing until the early 1970s . This discrimination meant that they had to fight for their place—alongside an overwhelmingly male football that showed no interest in giving way.
Associations and the public responded to the women's efforts with ridicule and denigration. In the broadest sense, women's football has always been a feminist movement. Although they initially only wanted to play, the exclusion and derogatory comments sharpened the political awareness of its proponents.
Through the struggle for recognition, a strong community with its own ideas emerged. Women's football never wanted to be a copy of men's football. It has always consciously differentiated itself, both athletically and ideologically, and focused on a different target audience. It has consistently defended its distinctiveness. This is now paying off because it is creating an offering for a clientele that has no interest in men's football.
Eugen Suter / Photopress Archive / Keystone
Inclusion, diversity, and accessibility: these are the qualities that have made women's football unique. The fact that it attracts a different audience than its male counterpart is no cliché. No other sporting event sees so many young women, nowhere else do you see more screaming children, and never have families entered a football stadium with more relaxation, because violence isn't an issue.
However, the bigger women's football becomes, the more the mechanisms of its male counterpart come into play. Although the financial excesses in men's football have always been lamented, every female record transfer is celebrated as a milestone on the way up.
In January, Chelsea paid a record transfer fee of $1.1 million (just under CHF 890,000) for Naomi Girma from the San Diego Wave. While this is a paltry sum compared to the €222 million Paris Saint-Germain paid FC Barcelona for Neymar in 2017, it's foreseeable that the future will also see bidding wars among women, driving up the prices of players. The effects of a market into which ever more money is being pumped can be seen in the men's market. There, an out-of-touch management class and players with exorbitant salaries are creating an ever-greater distance from the public.
But even in the very immediate area, in the stadiums, things are changing with the increased public interest. Lia Wälti, captain of the women's national team and Arsenal player, recently told the NZZ that she hopes that the security and family atmosphere in the arenas will be maintained: "But the more we play in men's stadiums and have 50,000 to 60,000 spectators there, the more male fans we have. Two worlds collide. I wonder if we can still control that when women's football is growing like this." She defines her world through values such as "openness and tolerance regarding sexuality or origins"; everyone feels safe.
The impact that a male ultras can have was evident at the Swiss Cup final at the end of March, which FC Zurich played against FC Basel at the Letzigrund Stadium. A section of Zurich's South Stand staged a loud riot in the stadium. Similar to the men's games, the Basel women were insulted with foul language, a behavior that is profoundly alien to women's matches, where people usually only cheer for their own team.
Better to stay smallThe joy over the increased attention is already mixed with so much concern among some female representatives that they reject further growth. Laura Freigang, a German national team player, said in a Vogue podcast: "Women's football should stay what it is." She doesn't share the euphoria about record attendances in ever-larger arenas. She prefers smaller stadiums, she says, because they offer more interaction with the audience.
A growing number of female players are also warning about excesses in the digital space. Instagram has always been a vehicle that allowed female athletes to promote themselves and develop their own brands, while traditional media paid them little attention. Now, numerous players are complaining about the increasing number of haters they face. Wälti says: "The larger the fan base becomes, the greater the media attention, including on social networks, and the greater the hate. Unfortunately, that's the negative side of the business."
Women's football is on the cusp of becoming truly big. Bigger than its pioneers could ever have imagined. And suddenly, growing pains are hitting. While some are demanding even more of a share of the big pie, others fear a loss of identity. Everyone recognizes that there's still room to catch up when it comes to player pay, training, and infrastructure – but where will we be once the inequalities have been eradicated? Is there even an alternative to men's football?
Tatjana Haenni headed the women's department at FIFA and the Swiss Football Association; today, she is a director of the American Women's Professional Football League. She was one of the few who believed in the potential of women's football years ago. In 2019, she told the NZZ newspaper: "Women's football can go where men's football is today."
Now she sees it heading directly toward that goal – and soberly acknowledges the consequences. A few days ago, she told the "Republik" newspaper: "As soon as more money flows in, which we all want, it (women's football, ed.) will change. That will also affect the sport. I can already see it with the young players today: The days when everyone was fair, there were almost no red cards, and no one was rolling around on the ground – those will soon be over."
Haenni compares the development to that of a startup, where everything is initially warm and informal, with a genuine team spirit. Eventually, the whole thing will become big. She estimates that in ten to twenty years, women's football will be as big as men's.
Not only will the antics of men have found their way into women's football, but it will also become more similar in many other areas in the coming years. The scene will be dominated by female players whose career paths are completely different from those of today's players. Female footballers who grew up believing they could be professionals; women who no longer need the combative attitude of their predecessors. That's good. But the legacy of their predecessors will be diluted.
It's quite possible that the European Championships in Switzerland will be remembered with a certain amount of nostalgia, the time when Lia Wälti would sign her daughter's jersey after training as a matter of course.
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