Welcome to the twilight of civilization, where the primary geopolitical currency is no longer diplomacy or even raw power, but the sheer, unadulterated audacity of the moronic. We find ourselves staring into the abyss of the 2026 World Cup, a tournament co-hosted by a nation currently led by a man who views the Arctic as a fixer-upper with potential. The news that the French government has 'no desire' to boycott the event, despite Donald Trump’s threats to annex Greenland and slap tariffs on European nations like a disgruntled landlord, is the perfect distillation of our modern malaise. It is a masterclass in the art of the spineless surrender, draped in the tricolor of pragmatism.

Let’s begin with the French Ministry of Sport. Minister Amélie Oudéa-Castéra’s admission that there is 'no desire' to boycott the tournament is perhaps the most honest thing a politician has said in years, albeit accidentally. 'No desire' is the polite, bureaucratic way of saying 'we have already calculated the cost of our dignity and found it significantly lower than the price of a broadcast rights deal.' The French government, an institution that historically elevated the 'Gallic shrug' to a high art form, has once again proven that its moral backbone is as pliable as a warm crêpe. They are faced with an American administration that is openly threatening their economy over their refusal to support a 19th-century land grab, and their response is to ensure that Kylian Mbappé still has a pitch to run on in Los Angeles. It is a stunning display of priorities in an age where the spectacle must always, under all circumstances, go on.

Across the Atlantic, we have the American side of this transactional nightmare. The drive to annex Greenland is the kind of fever dream one expects from a bored Roman Emperor in his final, lead-poisoned years. It is manifest destiny reimagined for the era of failing casinos. To threaten France and seven other European nations with tariffs for the 'crime' of respecting Danish sovereignty is a level of geopolitical thuggery that would be impressive if it weren't so transparently stupid. The United States is currently a country that can barely maintain its own bridges, yet it aspires to manage a massive, ice-covered autonomous territory because the man in charge likes the way it looks on a map. This is the host nation of the 2026 World Cup—a country that treats international law as a series of suggestions and neighbors as potential acquisitions.

Then we have the inevitable counter-chorus from the Left, led by Eric Coquerel. Coquerel’s demand that the U.S. be stripped of the World Cup is a classic example of performative radicalism. It is a lovely sentiment, truly. It’s also as effective as trying to stop a charging rhinoceros with a strongly worded haiku. The Left loves these grand, symbolic gestures because they require absolutely zero follow-through and offer the intoxicating scent of moral superiority without the pesky burden of actual power. Coquerel knows the tournament isn’t moving. He knows the French government won’t budge. But the headline looks good in the morning papers, and in the economy of outrage, that is the only currency that matters. It is the flip side of the same coin: while the Right uses threats to exert dominance, the Left uses indignant demands to maintain the illusion of relevance.

At the center of this hurricane of idiocy sits FIFA, an organization that makes the Borgias look like a charity for wayward kittens. FIFA does not care about Greenland. FIFA does not care about French tariffs. FIFA cares about the flow of capital, and the American market is a firehose they are desperate to drink from. The World Cup is not a celebration of sport; it is a mobile tax haven, a circus that rolls into town, extracts billions, and leaves behind empty stadiums and broken promises. The fact that the tournament is being used as a bargaining chip in a dispute over Arctic real estate is just the logical conclusion of the commodification of everything. Sovereignty is a myth, ethics are a nuisance, and the only thing that remains is the brand.

In the end, the French government’s refusal to boycott is a symptom of a much larger rot. It is the realization that we are no longer citizens of nations, but spectators in a global broadcast. We will watch the 2026 World Cup because we have been conditioned to believe that the spectacle is more important than the reality. We will ignore the fact that the host is threatening to annex a country. We will ignore the fact that our leaders are too frightened of losing their seat at the VIP table to speak up. We deserve this. We deserve a world where the fate of the Arctic is debated in the same breath as a yellow card. The Greenland threats are a joke, the French response is a tragedy, and the World Cup is the laugh track playing over our collective demise. See you in 2026; bring your own ice.