The International Olympic Committee (IOC) has confirmed it is introducing a controversial new policy that will ban transgender athletes from competing in women’s events.
The IOC stated eligibility for women’s events will be determined by a “once-in-a-lifetime” sex test, which would prevent transgender women and those with differences in sexual development from competing.
From a legal point of view, it opens up a can of worms and will no doubt affect many athletes from the top level down to grassroots.
What is the test?
The IOC says “eligibility for the female category is to be determined in the first instance by SRY gene screening to detect the absence or presence of the SRY gene”.
It added:
Based on scientific evidence, the IOC considers the presence of the SRY gene is fixed throughout life and represents highly accurate evidence that an athlete has experienced male sex development.
SRY stands for “sex determining region Y” gene. The presence of the SRY gene is associated with men’s typical sexual development.
Any athlete whose test shows the presence of the SRY gene will be banned from the women’s category.
The screening will be done via an athlete’s saliva, a cheek swab or blood sample.
The IOC stated it is not retroactive and does not apply to any grassroots or recreational sports.
Why did the IOC make this move?
In September 2025 the IOC established a working group to examine scientific, medical and legal developments in this space.
The IOC said the group reached a consensus that “male sex provides a performance advantage in all sports and events that rely on strength, power and endurance”.
IOC president Kirsty Coventry said:
At the Olympic Games, even the smallest margins can be the difference between victory and defeat. So, it is absolutely clear that it would not be fair for biological males to compete in the female category.
The IOC added it had surveyed more than 1,100 Olympic athletes, which revealed “a strong consensus that fairness and safety in the female category required clear, science-based eligibility rules, and that protecting the female category is a common priority”.
At the Tokyo Olympics in 2021, New Zealand weightlifter Laurel Hubbard became the first openly transgender woman to compete at an Olympic Games. She finished last in the super‑heavyweight category.
The policy is widely expected to be adopted by individual sports federations, although many have already implemented similar testing in recent months, including World Athletics and World Aquatics.
It will be implemented for women’s events at the Olympic Games, Youth Olympics and Games qualifiers, from Los Angeles 2028 onwards.
Human rights law and sport
The IOC’s decision may be in opposition to several laws that aim to ensure everyone has the right to participate in sport.
In 2019, a UN Human Rights Council resolution called on sports governing organisations such as the IOC to implement policies and practices that comply with international human rights.
International human rights laws require countries protect and promote human rights.
As many international sports governing organisations such as the IOC are based in Europe, the European Convention on Human Rights also applies to the new genetic testing rule. The IOC policy may violate this.
The UN Human Rights Council states genetic sex testing as an eligibility requirement for women’s sport violates athletes’ international rights to equality, bodily and psychological integrity and privacy.
While many support the IOC’s new policy, others argue the athletes now banned from competing in women’s sports are not being granted basic, long-agreed human rights.
Affected athletes may challenge the new rules in the Court of Arbitration for Sport – world sport’s top court, which has in the past heard cases on gender eligibility.
The IOC’s new rule may also violate the Council of Europe’s Convention on Human Rights and Biomedicine and domestic laws in many countries that prohibit genetic testing unless a health purpose is achieved.
Those left on the sidelines
This policy is a monumental shift from world sport’s most powerful authority.
It has sparked celebration among some, and anger and disbelief among others.
There will be aftershocks, maybe in the form of appeals or lawsuits. Where it leaves the few transgender and intersex athletes who want to compete in elite women’s sports is anyone’s guess.
Matt Nichol does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
Since the United States and Israel launched their war against Iran in late February, Iran has retaliated by targeting commercial ships in the Strait of Hormuz, effectively shutting down the narrow channel of water.
It’s caused a global fuel crisis, even though some ships are managing to get through the strait. US President Donald Trump has given Iran an ultimatum to fully reopen the waterway to oil and gas shipments, and called on NATO allies to help in the effort.
We asked naval expert Jennifer Parker, who served for 20 years with the Royal Australian Navy, to explain what kind of military force would be required to reopen the strait to commercial shipping and why the US hasn’t yet taken this step.
Why is it so hard to prevent attacks on ships?
The geography of the region has a lot to do with this.
Iran clearly dominates the northern part of the Persian Gulf, the Strait of Hormuz and the Gulf of Oman. That proximity allows it to use its cheaper weapons such as drones to target ships.
Creating the conditions to make merchant shipping safe – or at least reduce the risk – requires a two-phase campaign.
The first phase is taking out Iran’s ability to target ships. There are two ways to do this:
persuade or force Iran to stop attacking ships
destroy Iran’s ability to attack ships by taking out its radar facilities, command and control structure and weapons bunkers along the coast.
The US has air power, intelligence, surveillance and reconnaissance capabilities to identify and destroy most of these targets. Locating and destroying Iran’s masses of drones will be harder, as they can be stored almost anywhere, so intelligence will be crucial here.
The Malta-flagged container vessel Safeen Prestige on fire in the Strait of Hormuz on March 18 after being hit by Iranian explosives. Copernicus Sentinel-2 satellite, CC BY-SA
Once you reduce the risk through a bombing campaign, the second element of getting ships back through the strait is a reassurance campaign.
This requires airborne early warning aircraft and maritime patrol aircraft to monitor not only the strait, but also the Gulf of Oman, the Persian Gulf and along Iran’s coastline.
Fighter aircraft would need to be stationed above the strait and gulf, as combat air patrol and helicopters would need to be ready to deploy against attacks, if necessary. And in the water, the US would need to station warships to provide the occasional escort.
If mines are confirmed or even suspected of being in the strait, this complicates things. The US would require an extensive and time-consuming mine clearance operation.
So, why won’t the US try to militarily secure the strait?
There are four key reasons the US won’t attempt to militarily secure the strait without first achieving phase one (taking out Iran’s ability to target ships) — and why it hasn’t been a focus of the campaign thus far.
First, it would divert military assets, such as aircraft, that are needed elsewhere to carry out Trump’s war objectives.
Second, to make the strait safe for shipping, you actually need to secure not just the water, but the land on either side of it. And this would likely require ground forces – or perhaps raiding parties on Iran’s coastline – which would be complicated and risky for the US military.
Third, securing shipping would require a significant number of naval ships. Realistically, you’d need one or two naval ships per escort operation. A convoy any larger than that would be at increased risk of attack, unless the US and Israel have dramatically reduced Iran’s ability to target the ships.
President Trump has ordered reinforcements from two naval groups into the Middle East, consisting of around 4,500 marines and dozens of aircraft. The Conversation, NYT, Al Jazeera, CC BY-SA
And fourth, the military needs to think about the risk to its assets versus the benefits of opening the strait. A US warship has a crew of more than 200 personnel. Given Iran’s ability to hit ships with uncrewed surface vessels, drones and cruise missiles, is it worth putting those personnel at risk before you’ve reduced the threats from Iran’s coastline?
What about mines in the strait?
This would be a significant challenge. But one thing first: Iran doesn’t actually need to physically lay the mines, it just needs to convince the US and others that it has. This is enough to prevent civilian ships from wanting to transit through the strait.
The possible types of mines Iran may have laid in the Strait of Hormuz, though there has been no clear evidence mining has occurred. NYT, CC BY-SA
Sometimes mines can be floating on the surface of the water, so they’re visible. Often, though, mines are submerged or moored. The US would need to send in divers or remote-controlled vehicles launched from ships to remove them. This would take weeks or perhaps even months.
Although it’s not been confirmed publicly, I think it’s unlikely Iran would extensivley lay mines. There are two reasons for this.
First, Iran’s economy relies on its ability to ship its own oil from Kharg Island in the Persian Gulf through the strait. Iran does have other ports outside the strait, but they can’t accommodate bigger ships, so mining would interfere with their trade.
Second, some reports have suggested Iran has used acoustic mines, a type of influence mine that detonates based on an acoustic “signature”, essentially what a ship sounds like as it moves through the water. While this technology certainly exists, it is unlikely such mines would be designed to reliably differentiate between Iranian-flagged merchant vessels and those flagged to other countries.
Maintaining accurate and comprehensive signature data for large numbers of commercial vessels — particularly in a dense and dynamic shipping environment such as the strait — would be extremely challenging. In practice, these mines would pose risks to a wide range of shipping.
The US also has significant intelligence assets and surveillance and reconnaissance systems along the Iranian coast, so it would likely detect mine-laying operations, although this can also occur from any vessel, including fishing boats.
And what about Iran’s ability to target ships with drones?
Iran has used different types of drones so far in the war. The uncrewed aerial craft or uncrewed surface vessels are remotely controlled and have been used to hit merchant tankers.
Compared with other weapons, such as missiles, it’s much harder for the US and Israel to target Iran’s drones on the ground because they can be launched from almost anywhere. And while they can’t be built anywhere, drones don’t require the same advanced manufacturing facilities as missiles. In short, they are harder to detect and wipe out.
But the US can bomb some of Iran’s launching points and drone stockpiles along the coast to prevent some attacks on ships.
What is the main priority for the US in Iran right now?
Although there has been much debate about regime change, the Trump administration has been clear about its four key military objectives, which are to destroy:
Iran’s ballistic missile capability
its nuclear capability
its navy (which has largely been achieved)
and its proxy networks, including Hezbollah in Lebanon, which has been under attack by Israel for the past several weeks.
The destruction of Iran’s nuclear and ballistic missile capabilities requires significant aircraft and weaponry – as the US and Israeli bombing campaigns have already made clear. Diverting these assets to secure the Strait of Hormuz could undermine the achievement of these military objectives.
As you get older, it’s normal to notice changes in your sleep. These can include fewer hours of shuteye, waking up more during the night, and finding it harder to drop off. However, despite the general view that older people tend to need less sleep, scientific evidence suggests that this change isn’t actually a question of needing less rest, but of a reduced ability to fall into a deep, continuous sleep.
Older brains still need to rest, but they find it harder and do it more superficially. It’s as if the “off switch” that keeps us asleep works less effectively as time goes on.
In the young brain, this system functions like a firm switch: it is either awake or asleep. But as we get older, some neurons that promote and maintain sleep are lost, while others that sustain wakefulness also get weaker. As a result, the brain shifts states more easily, leading to lighter and more fragmented sleep.
Our biological clocks also change with age. The group of neurons that coordinates the entire body’s circadian rhythms (known as the suprachiasmatic nucleus) continues to function, but its “day” becomes shorter and starts earlier, and its signal becomes less intense.
This partly explains why older people tend to fall asleep and wake up earlier. It also explains why their night-time sleep is more sensitive to external stimuli, and why they can experience more drowsiness during the day. Put simply, the brain receives a less clear signal about when to sleep and when to stay awake.
Another significant change is in our “sleep pressure”. This urge builds up throughout the day and causes us to sleep at night, and depends on a substance known as adenosine. As we age, the brain continues to accumulate fatigue but responds less effectively to this signal. Although the need for sleep remains, it becomes more difficult to translate the signal into deep, uninterrupted sleep.
Deep sleep, which is essential for brain recovery, is also directly affected by structural changes in the brain. This phase of sleep occurs primarily in the frontal regions, which lose thickness and connections as we age. As a result, the slow brainwaves that characterise deep sleep become weaker and less frequent – especially at the start of the night.
During sleep, the brain also sends out brief signals that help consolidate memories from the day. As we age, these signals diminish and become less synchronised with deep sleep. This contributes to a decline in learning and memory efficiency, even in healthy older people.
Finally, ageing affects the connections that enable different regions of the brain to work in sync during the night. Although the neurons that generate sleep are still present, their signals are transmitted less effectively. The result is less deep, more fragmented, and less restorative sleep.
It is important to note that lighter sleep is considered part of the brain’s natural ageing process in healthy older adults. These changes do not necessarily lead to cognitive problems.
Lifestyle factors
In addition to these biological changes, other factors can have a decisive influence on sleep in older people, and often interact with neurobiological mechanisms. For instance, the loss of daily routine – such as regular working hours, structured physical activity and consistent exposure to natural light – weakens the external cues that help synchronise the biological clock, exacerbating sleep fragmentation.
At this stage of life, sleep disorders such as insomnia and obstructive sleep apnoea are more common. At the same time, a greater burden of chronic conditions – persistent pain, cardiovascular or respiratory diseases – and mood disorders leads to additional night-time awakenings and breaks up sleep.
While essential, frequent use of medicines can also disrupt sleep patterns. These range from sleep aids and anxiolytics that affect deep sleep, to antidepressants, beta-blockers and diuretics that interfere with the onset, stability or continuity of sleep.
Taken together, these factors act as modulators. While they do not in themselves cause sleep ageing, they can exacerbate it, and make it clinically significant when they occur in a brain that is already more vulnerable.
In recent years, there has been a growing body of evidence regarding the harmful effects of sleep deprivation and sleep disorders on brain health. Poor sleep is not only associated with poorer cognitive performance in the short term, but also with a higher risk of cognitive decline and dementia in the long term.
This growing interest has placed a spotlight on sleep in old age, a stage of life where sleep patterns almost universally change. However, one of the greatest challenges is to draw a clear line between changes in sleep that are part of normal ageing – meaning they don’t entail any negative physical or mental consequences – and those that may constitute an early, subclinical symptom of neurodegenerative processes.
As they age, a person might begin to notice a deterioration in their sleep patterns (waking up during the night, more superficial sleep, and so on). But there are no biomarkers that can determine whether these are normal changes to be expected with age, or whether they are in fact a manifestation of neurodegenerative disease.
Although it’s normal for sleep to become lighter with age, some changes go beyond what is to be expected and may indicate unhealthy brain ageing. One of the main warning signs is marked and progressive sleep fragmentation, with multiple prolonged night-time awakenings and a persistent feeling of non-restorative sleep, even when the total time spent in bed is enough. Unlike normal ageing, in these cases sleep loses its stability and continuity.
Another key sign is the rapid onset or worsening of excessive daytime sleepiness, particularly when it interferes with daily activities or is disproportionate to the amount of sleep obtained. This would suggest that a person’s sleep has lost its restorative function.
When should you worry?
From a neurocognitive perspective, the coexistence of sleep disturbances with subtle cognitive changes – such as recent difficulties with memory, attention or learning, even if these do not yet meet the criteria for cognitive impairment – is particularly concerning. Recent research suggests that this combination may reflect early-stage neurodegenerative processes.
Changes in quality of sleep, rather than simply a reduction in sleep duration, are also considered warning signs. This can mean the almost complete disappearance of deep sleep, a marked reduction in REM sleep, or a progressive reversal of the sleep-wake cycle, with increased night-time activity and daytime sleepiness. These patterns are not typical of healthy ageing.
Other warning signs are a growing dependence on medical sleeping aids or sedatives to sleep, as well as treatments that previously worked becoming suddenly ineffective. In these cases, the problem is usually not just insomnia, but an underlying disturbance of the brain’s sleep mechanisms.
These signs alone are not sufficient to diagnose a neurodegenerative disease, but they do show why we need to assess sleep as a potential early risk marker, especially when the changes are recent, progressive and associated with cognitive impairments.
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Elena Urrestarazu Bolumburu no recibe salario, ni ejerce labores de consultoría, ni posee acciones, ni recibe financiación de ninguna compañía u organización que pueda obtener beneficio de este artículo, y ha declarado carecer de vínculos relevantes más allá del cargo académico citado.
Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By Olga Oleinikova, Associate Professor and Director of the SITADHub (Social Impact Technologies and Democracy Research Hub) in the School of Communication, University of Technology Sydney
Jonas Gratzer/LightRocket via Getty Images
“I didn’t come here to get rich. I came because I had no other way to keep my son safe and care for my displaced family”.
Anna is a 28-year-old woman from eastern Ukraine. She fled the country in 2023 after Russian troops invaded. Two years later, she agreed to become a surrogate in Georgia for wealthy foreign couples.
We met Anna, who was already pregnant, in a quiet apartment that had been rented for her by a surrogacy agency on the outskirts of the capital, Tbilisi.
Our multidisciplinary team was in Georgia to conduct a pilot research project examining the small country’s rapidly expanding surrogacy industry.
We conducted in-depth interviews with Ukrainian women to better understand their motivations for entering surrogacy arrangements, their experiences within the system, and the social, economic, and legal factors shaping their decision-making and wellbeing.
We also analysed publicly available policy and regulatory documents from the government to examine how the sector operates. We paid particular attention to emerging regulatory challenges, gaps in oversight and the state’s efforts to balance economic opportunity with ethical and human rights considerations.
The shifting geography of surrogacy
Surrogacy laws vary widely around the world. Some countries, including Australia, prohibit commercial surrogacy. Others allow it under specific conditions. These differences create cross-border markets, where intended parents travel abroad to access services that are restricted, expensive or unavailable at home.
War disrupted the industry. Clinics closed or relocated. Travel became dangerous. Media outlets reported on intended parents struggling to reach newborns and surrogates displaced by fighting. Georgia became a safe alternative.
The Beta Fertility clinic run by the New Life Georgia surrogacy agency in Tbilisi in November 2023. Photo by Marie Audinet / Hans Lucas via AFP
International surrogacy has been legal in Georgia since 1997. That’s when the country adopted legislation allowing both gestational (a woman carrying an embryo not genetically related to her) and traditional surrogacy (a woman carrying an embryo for another couple using her own egg). The first children were born through gestational surrogacy around 2007.
The country’s clear legal framework – recognising intended parents as the child’s legal guardians from birth and granting no parental rights to the surrogate – has been a key factor in its appeal.
Costs are also significantly lower than in the United States. As independent international surrogacy consultant Olga Pysana told us:
In the last year, surrogacy in Georgia cost approximately US$55,000 to $85,000 (A$78,000 to A$120,000), whereas surrogacy in the United States can cost as much as US$250,000 (A$350,000).
With international demand surging in the 2010s, Georgia (a small country of 3.7 million people) quickly became unable to meet the needs of so many parents with local women alone. So clinics began recruiting potential surrogates from abroad, including from Ukraine, Central Asian countries, Russia, Belarus, Thailand and the Philippines.
Mobile surrogates
Several of the women we interviewed had previously worked with Ukrainian agencies. After the invasion, recruiters contacted them again – this time offering placements in Georgia.
Displacement has produced a new and economically vulnerable workforce. We describe these women as “mobile surrogates”: women who move across borders to provide reproductive labour in response to war, economic crises or changing surrogacy laws. “If there was no war, I would never have left,” Anna told us.
Most of the women we interviewed had lost homes, jobs or partners. Many were supporting children and extended family members across borders. Anna had worked in a shop before the war, then cleaned houses in Poland. “Surrogacy in Georgia pays in nine months what I would earn in years,” she said.
Our research found that surrogates are typically paid around US$20,000 (A$35,500) in instalments. For families displaced by war, this amount of money can cover rent, relocation costs and schooling.
A surrogate undergoes an ultrasound scan at the Beta Fertility Clinic in Tbilisi, Georgia, in November 2023. Marie Audinet/Hans Lucas/AFP/Getty images
But the arrangements come with strict contractual conditions. Women may face limits on travel, their diets and daily routines. Some live in shared apartments organised by agencies.
Independent legal advice is rare. Anna signed a contract in a language she did not fully understand, but felt she had little alternative: “I just needed something stable. I couldn’t keep moving from place to place”.
Georgia’s legal framework says little about labour standards, housing conditions or long-term health support for surrogates after birth. The result is an imbalance: strong protections for intended parents, and weaker safeguards for the women carrying babies.
A draft bill was introduced in 2023 aimed at curbing paid surrogacy for foreigners, due to growing concerns about the commercialisation of the industry and potential exploitation of surrogate mothers. However, it is still pending. As of early 2026, surrogacy remains legal in Georgia for foreign heterosexual couples.
Three trends we are seeing
First, reproductive markets are highly responsive to crises. When Ukraine’s industry became unstable, demand shifted rapidly to Georgia. Global fertility markets operate like other transnational industries: when one site contracts, another expands.
Second, economic inequality shapes who participates. Displacement and financial insecurity increase women’s willingness to enter demanding reproductive arrangements.
Third, the surrogates bear the brunt of regulatory ambiguities and associated risks and challenges. This includes dealing with contracts and medical procedures in languages they don’t understand.
Reform is needed
In Georgia, clearer labour protections are essential: minimum housing standards, transparent payment schedules, and mandatory, independent legal advice in a language surrogates understand. Health coverage for the women should also extend beyond birth.
The major markets for surrogacy services, including China, the US, Australia, Israel, Germany and others, should also review how their citizens engage in overseas surrogacy. This includes stronger regulation of agencies marketing abroad and clearer ethical guidance for intended parents.
Finally, greater international coordination is needed. Shared standards for cross-border surrogacy would improve transparency and accountability in a rapidly expanding and loosely regulated global market.
As demand grows, the central question is not whether cross-border surrogacy will continue, but whether it can be governed in ways that safeguard fairness, transparency and the rights of the women whose bodies sustain it.
Nothing to disclose.
Olga Oleinikova and Polina Vlasenko do not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and have disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
This is the point of absurdity we have reached: on March 15, US President Donald Trump, in a Truth Social post, asserted that American news organisations were running AI-generated Iranian propaganda, and should be charged with treason for the dissemination of false information. One of the instances he cited was coverage of Iranians at a rally to support new Supreme Leader Mojtaba Khamenei, which he said was totally AI-generated, and the event never took place, despite abundant evidence to the contrary.
The most powerful man in the world is making large and important claims, one palpably false, the others without offering any evidence, and it seems few if any people take him seriously. Then he blithely threatens to charge unnamed people with treason, which in the United States is potentially a capital offence, and again it is not clear anyone takes him seriously. Despite the all-but-universal dismissal of his statements, he will probably suffer no political consequences. It is just another drop in an ocean of unaccountability.
One reason it will pass with negligible consequences is that these accusations have become so commonplace. Republicans have long railed against the “liberal” news media, but the Trump administration has brought such attacks to a new level of intensity.
In 2017, his first year in office, Trump denounced “fake news” and called the media the enemy of the American people. He said he had a “running war” with the media, and described journalists as “among the most dishonest human beings on Earth”.
Trump’s standard response to a question he doesn’t want to answer is to call the reporter (especially female reporters) a nasty person, or to denounce the organisation they work for. Recently his response to a US ABC reporter’s question was that her employer “may be the most corrupt news organisation on the planet. I think they’re terrible.”
As the war with Iran threatened to become more politically contentious, the administration has trained its rhetorical sights on the media. Trump endorsed Federal Communications Commission Chairman Brendan Carr’s threat to revoke broadcast licences of “the corrupt and highly unpatriotic media”:
They get billions of Dollars of FREE American airwaves, and use it to perpetuate LIES, both in news and almost all of their shows, including the Late Night Morons, who get gigantic Salaries for horrible Ratings.
Far more than any of his predecessors, Trump concerns himself with individuals and media organisations. For example, he thought Netflix should dismiss one of its board members who had worked for his Democrat predecessors Barack Obama and Joe Biden: “Netflix should fire, racist, Trump deranged Susan Rice IMMEDIATELY.”
A history of legal action
Trump has gone beyond rhetorical denunciations, however. He is the first US president, in recent times at least, to sue a news organisation. His targets so far have included the Pulitzer Prize Board, the Des Moines Register and its pollster Ann Selzer, the Wall St Journal, the New York Times, Penguin Random House and the BBC.
Without exception, his writs have no legal merit. (He has already lost suits against the New York Times, Washington Post and CNN). They are a means of harassment or perhaps just a threat: Trump sued CBS in 2024 over the editing of a 60 Minutes interview with Kamala Harris. Initially CBS said the case had no merit. However, in July 2025 it agreed to settle for $16 million.
The agreement came amid CBS parent company Paramount’s $8.4 billion merger with Skydance, which received regulatory approval weeks later. Stephen Colbert, host of its top-rating night show, called it “a big fat bribe”. Three days later Colbert’s show was cancelled, which the network said was purely a financial decision.
Trump congratulated himself in a post on his Truth Social site under the headline “President Trump is reshaping the media”. He listed 12 media organisations and individuals who are “gone”, such as CNN reporter Jim Acosta and Colbert. Then he listed a dozen “reforms”, such as CNN having new ownership. He finished the post with the word “Winning”.
Apart from the president, the most enthusiastic member of the cabinet in harassing the media is former Fox News presenter, now secretary of war, Pete Hegseth. Last year he announced that journalists who solicited unauthorised military information would have their access revoked and be deemed a security risk. Fifty-five out of 56 accredited journalists refused to sign the new agreement. In March a judge ruled the policy was unconstitutional but the government has said it will appeal.
Recently, Hegseth thought photos of him were “unflattering”, so photographers were banned from his next two briefings.
So it is not surprising Hegseth has been a vocal critic of media coverage. He finished one recent tirade by saying: “The sooner David Ellison takes over [CNN], the better.”
Ellison at the wheel
What is new and alarming about this is the reference to Ellison. It follows one of the biggest corporate takeovers in history. Ellison’s company, Paramount Skydance, has just succeeded in taking over Warner Bros Discovery. CNN is part of the package Ellison has acquired.
David is the son of Larry Ellison, the sixth-richest person in the world, who founded Oracle, a wildly successful software company. After Trump became president, the Ellisons moved into media in a big way.
The family first attracted public prominence when it was a central part of Trump choreographing the formation of a US TikTok company. Biden, with the approval of Congress, had sought to ban the popular video-sharing platform because of worries about security with the Chinese company ByteDance. Instead, Trump, on his first day of this second term, started a process to make it US-based, to remove the security risk.
In the end, Ellison’s Oracle, Silver Lake and MGX became the three managing investors, each holding a 15% share in the new company. The Chinese company ByteDance retained 19.9% of the joint venture. Oracle would also handle all the software aspects. All up, a very Trump-friendly outcome.
The Ellisons next attracted attention in July 2025, when their niche media company Skydance merged with Paramount to form Paramount Plus. This made them the owner not only of one of the biggest film studios but also of TV network CBS. The consequences for CBS news have already been far-reaching.
Ellison began by pledging to end the company’s “diversity equity and inclusion” initiatives. He appointed as ombudsman the former head of a conservative think tank and named Bari Weiss, a centre-right advocate, as editor-in-chief of CBS News.
An early controversy hit with a CBS 60 Minutes episode on a notorious prison in El Salvador, where the US government is sending migrant detainees. Although it was cleared through all the normal internal processes, the story was blocked at the last minute in what the reporter called an act of censorship. It was shown four weeks later.
Six out of 20 evening news producers have left CBS, with one, Alicia Hastey, saying the kind of work she came to do was increasingly impossible, as stories were now evaluated not just on their journalistic merit but on whether they conform to a shifting set of ideological expectations.
In a missive to the newsroom, Weiss declared “we love America” should be the guiding principle for the relaunch of CBS Evening News. Putting this into practice, the new anchor of the evening news, Tony Dokoupil, finished one program by saying “[Secretary of State] Marco Rubio, we salute you”.
Ellison’s early acquisitions were dwarfed by the recent battle between Paramount Plus and Netflix to take over Warner Bros Discovery, which Paramount finally won in February 2026. Paramount’s final, winning offer valued the company at US$111 billion (A$159 billion), paying US$31 (A$44) per share. Months earlier, Netflix’s original offer was US$19 (A$27) per share. Assuming the deal goes through, Paramount will carry an estimated US$90 billion (A$128.6 billion) of debt, but it will also have a conglomerate of media-related holdings like no other company in history.
Despite the size of the takeover, which has several implications for reduced competition, commentators are confident it will achieve regulatory approval. This is principally because in the Trump era there is a strong, shall we say, transactional flavour about when regulation is enforced and when not. Trump has described the Ellisons as “two great people”. “They’re friends of mine. They’re big supporters of mine. And they’ll do the right thing.”
Media monsters
In the 1950s, looking at the way Australian newspaper companies came to control the new commercial radio and television stations, journalist Colin Bednall referred to “media monsters”. Around 1990, British media commentator Anthony Smith wrote a book titled The Age of Behemoths, looking especially at the way large corporations such as News Corp had gone international.
But both were talking about media pygmies compared with the new mega-corporation owned by the Ellisons. Apart from their software business and extensive real estate holdings, they now have a central player, TikTok, in social media. They own two of the biggest five US movie studios, they have two of the biggest five streaming services, they have large entertainment producing corporations in Discovery, Warner Bros and CBS, and they own two of the most important TV news services – CBS and CNN.
This gives them the usual commercial advantages over smaller newcomers trying to break in. It also means the news services are owned by a conglomerate that has many other interests, including some that demand negotiation with the government.
In trying to understand the moment we are living through, it is often difficult to disentangle what is of momentary significance and what of lasting importance. What are egomaniacal histrionics that will fade into history with Trump? And which signal ongoing threats to the fabric of democratic institutions?
The unprecedented media empire built by the Ellisons will not disappear, no matter who wins the next election.
Rodney Tiffen does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
The release of the first FIFA World Cup 2026 song Lighter by American country artist Jelly Roll, Mexican singer Carín León and Canadian producer Cirkut, has left an odd taste in the mouth of fans, like waking up in the back of a Chevy truck after accidentally downing a bottle of bargain-bin bourbon.
As the United States, Canada and Mexico prepare to host the World Cup in June, the change in genre from “world-infused” pop to Bible Belt-style country-rock reflects the awkwardness of the tournament being hosted in an increasingly isolationist America.
Themes of unity and diversity
Since the early 1990s, FIFA World Cup songs and anthems have usually reflected something of the local flavour of the host country while simultaneously promoting the ideals of global unity.
For example, the 2022 song Hayya Hayya promotes the ideal that “we are better together”. It vibrates with the rhythmic complexity of North African folk traditions, before moving into a more commercial reggae groove.
Jennifer Lopez and Pitbull’s 2014 song, We are One, incorporates Brazilian inflections in an otherwise characteristically in-your-face Pitbull dance track. Nevertheless, the global sentiment remains: “it’s your world, my world, our world today, and we invite the whole world, whole world to play”.
Similarly, Jason Derulo’s 2018 World Cup track Colors (also a Coca Cola promotional song), celebrates national pride – “I’m going to wave my flag” – while also declaring “there’s beauty in the unity we’ve found”.
Where is the excitement?
Though Lighter is a collaboration between the three host countries, it marks a significant musical shift from the characteristic European, Latino and “World” inflected pop of previous songs.
There have been other stylistic shifts in the past. The 2006 World Cup track was Time of Our Lives, a slow operatic pop ballad by Il Divo and Toni Braxton.
But Lighter isn’t another example of this. It isn’t a ballad – yet it still lacks the high energy buzz of fan favourites such as Shakira’s Waka Waka (2010 South Africa World Cup), Santana’s Dar Um Jeito (We Will Find a Way) (2014 Brazil World Cup) and Ricky Martin’s The Cup of Life (1998 France World Cup).
The usual rhythmic vitality of a World Cup song is stripped back to a country-rock dirge with an odd, almost tokenistic Spanish bridge – an offering that might more appropriately feature in a Trolls World Tour. Fans are not having it.
As one user in the YouTube comments asks: “La emoción, la pasión y el ritmo mundialista, dónde está todo eso?” (“The excitement, the passion and the World Cup rhythm, where is all that?”).
Roll between the Lord and the Devil
Lighter has also been criticised for its religious allusions. One listener bemoans: “It’s a football tournament, but let’s make a song about church choirs, Chevy trucks, chains and muddy boots”.
Although past World Cup songs have contained religious allusions, Lighter’s odd sense of the sacred is more like trying to pass off a Lord Elrond action figure as a statue of Saint Anthony.
The song is replete with the forced language of a sinner’s conversion (“chains don’t rattle no more”, “lay my burdens down”), as analogous to the flow-state of a footballer, free from whatever personal or collective trials that might have been holding them back.
As in many a good country song, the protagonist is involved in a cosmic battle for his soul.
Jelly Roll is “praying [his] way out of […] hell”. He even has a run in with the Devil, although he doesn’t trade his soul for musical talent. Rather, he escapes the Devil’s attempts to “catch” him as his boots have left the ground.
You could be forgiven for questioning whether this song was about football at all, or whether it is more reflective of Jelly Roll’s own personal conversion story (he has recently been open in proclaiming his faith in Jesus).
In Lighter, the collective “we” of previous World Cup songs has been replaced with the individualistic “I” – the local taking precedence over the global.
The elephant in the room
Now, to be fair, there are some aspects of Lighter that align with the values of its predecessors. One key theme of the song is the sense of the fight, of overcoming obstacles, and gaining individual freedom. This aligns with FIFA’s stated purpose of the song, which it says was “created for the most inclusive FIFA World Cup in history”.
However, with ICE agents likely to be haunting football stadiums like dementors – and strained relationships between the US and neighbours such as Venezuela, Mexico, Canada and Cuba (not to mention Iran) – it is questionable whether FIFA’s goals of inclusivity will be felt and realised.
Instead, Jelly Roll and Carín León’s country-rock tune seems to more accurately reflect the current US administration’s isolationist approach to global foreign policy: we know we’re in the world, but we’d rather not be.
Perhaps the next World Cup song in 2030 will bring back the excitement, passion and rhythm that fans love, and reiterate the globalist ideals of the game. For now, Lighter remains a missed penalty shot.
Brent Keogh does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
Gold has long enjoyed a reputation as a financial “safe haven” during stormy times. But over the past few months of geopolitical chaos and market panic, the precious metal has moved more like a roller coaster than a steady ship at anchor.
In late January, the gold price surged to an all-time high near US$5,600 per ounce – effectively double what it was a year earlier. It’s lost about 20% since then, sliding sharply while major conflict broke out in the Middle East.
To be clear, gold is still at lofty heights by historical standards, up almost 300% over the past decade. Much of this surge has been driven by “financialisation”.
Put simply, more ways of investing in gold on paper – with complex financial products called derivatives and funds that track its price – have seen a boom in speculation by institutional and retail investors.
But this year’s wild swings in price should shatter any remaining illusion that gold is always a safe haven. To understand why, we need to look at how modern financial markets work – and in particular, why an oil shock is different to other crises.
Umbrellas and storm shelters
To protect their wealth, investors often seek assets that are either “hedges” or “safe havens”.
A hedge is an investment that generally moves in the opposite direction to the rest of the market on average over a normal, long-term period.
Think of a hedge like holding an umbrella above your head every single day. You’ll stay drier than everyone else when it rains, but you’ll also block out on some of the sunshine (potential gains) when it doesn’t.
Hedging can reduce risks – but limit potential gains for an investor. Suresh tamang/Pexels
A safe haven, on the other hand, is an investment that generally moves in the opposite direction to the rest of the market only during sudden periods of extreme stress or crashes.
It’s like a storm shelter you only run to during a hurricane.
Where does gold fit?
In a 2016 research study, colleagues and I found gold had some of the qualities of a safe haven, particularly for share markets in Australia, the United States, Germany and France.
During the 2008 global financial crisis, gold was the most stable commodity among the precious metals we studied. Its price did drop, but it avoided the catastrophic losses seen in other precious metals.
It had similar safe haven qualities in 2011, when ratings agency Standard & Poor’s (S&P) downgraded the US’ AAA credit rating to AA+ for the first time in history and many global stock markets fell.
Importantly, those market shocks came out of the financial system itself (a banking system failure and a credit downgrade).
Today, the world faces something fundamentally different: a massive energy shock due to interrupted oil supplies and major damage to oil and gas facilities in the Middle East.
Why an oil shock is different
Traditional finance textbooks will tell you that when a war breaks out, inflation spikes or stock markets crash, investors typically engage in what’s called a “flight to quality” – fleeing riskier assets and moving their money somewhere seen to be safer (such as gold).
In a 2025 research paper, colleagues and I offer a more nuanced view. Crucially, we incorporated data from more recent periods of stock market turbulence, including the COVID pandemic, where gold’s safe haven properties were more muted.
We found gold is still a go-to choice for investors moving out of riskier investments. But it is not an untouchable storm shelter.
Instead of standing completely separate from the panic during a crisis, gold absorbs some of the volatility from both the stock market and energy markets, which can cause its price to fall.
Gold isn’t always a safety net. Market chaos can drag its price down. Marko Ivanov/Unsplash
Ripple effects
Why? For one, market chaos means some large investors may be forced to sell gold to cover other losses or meet financial obligations, such as margin calls (where a lender demands funds to cover the falling value of an asset).
For other large investors, the recent price rally may have created an opportunity to sell high and take profits, or rebalance their investment portfolios.
But there is also the fact gold does not have as much essential intrinsic value as something like oil. There is not much industrial demand for it compared to other commodities.
In a severe crisis, forced to chose between a commodity like oil and gold, what does global industry really need? Oil.
Rock, paper, gold
The different ways people are investing in gold is another important factor. Over several decades, gold has become increasingly “financialised”.
Now, it can be bought and sold with ease on “paper” via speculative, complex financial instruments called derivatives, or in increasingly popular exchange traded funds which track the price of gold.
With these funds, you aren’t buying gold itself. You’re buying an asset whose price is designed to track the price of gold in some way.
Today, a massive rise in speculative investment means that commodity prices depend on far more than real-world supply and demand.
Because global investors now hold gold derivatives and conventional stocks at the same time, the risk of exposure to common market shocks has drastically increased.
Rand Low does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
On October 6 1973, the Yom Kippur War – mainly involving Egypt, Syria and Israel –triggered one of the biggest energy crises of the 20th century. Eleven days later, several Arab members of the Organization of the Petroleum Exporting Countries (OPEC) announced they would stop selling oil to countries supporting Israel and would cut production.
The effect was immediate. Within a few months, global oil prices quadrupled.
After decades of price stability, the world faced a severe shortage. Petrol stations ran dry, with some displaying a red flag to signal empty pumps; drivers queued for hours.
In parts of the US, fuel was rationed by licence plate number. By March 1974, time spent waiting in line had raised the cost of petrol by around 50%, because drivers were also “paying” through lost time — hours that could otherwise have been spent working.
Across Europe, governments imposed fuel-saving measures. The Netherlands and West Germany introduced car-free Sundays, while Britain cut speed limits to reduce petrol consumption.
Today, as the United States and Israel continue a widening war against Iran, energy markets have again reacted: disruptions in the Strait of Hormuz, a key artery for global oil, have pushed prices above US$100 per barrel, echoing the supply shocks of the 1970s.
These pressures make it timely to revisit 1973 and why its effects were so economically severe.
When OPEC gained influence
The scale and persistence of the 1973 oil shock reflected not just the embargo itself, but how it interacted with the economic system at the time.
One important shift was that the US stopped being the world’s main “backup supplier” of oil. For decades, American production had been large enough that output could increase when global supply tightened, but production peaked around 1972.
Without this buffer, markets became far more sensitive to disruptions. At the same time, oil-producing countries in the Middle East gained political leverage by coordinating production through OPEC, strengthening their influence over prices.
Moreover, the international monetary system that had kept postwar inflation under control had collapsed in 1971. This agreement, known as Bretton Woods, had tied currencies to the US dollar. The result was that oil prices, like most commodity prices, were already rising before the embargo began.
Inflation surged, and so did wages
Higher oil prices pushed up the cost of almost everything. Transport became more expensive. Electricity bills increased. Businesses faced higher production costs and passed these costs onto consumers.
Inflation surged across many advanced economies. Workers tried to protect their living standards by asking for higher pay. In many countries, strong labour unions negotiated big wage increases to keep up with rising prices.
Expectations made the shock worse: fearing shortages, firms and households stocked up, reducing available supply and pushing prices even higher.
The economic consequence of this shock was a decade of stagflation: high inflation amid stagnating growth.
Governments tried several ways to respond. Some countries, such as the US, introduced price controls to limit how much petrol companies could charge. Others, such as the UK and France, imposed rationing rules to manage shortages.
Trouble for central banks
Central banks also faced difficult choices: raising interest rates could reduce inflation by slowing borrowing and spending. But higher rates also risked pushing the economy deeper into recession.
During the 1970s, many central banks including the US Federal Reserve struggled to strike the right balance. The Fed kept cutting interest rates to support the economy, but this only added to inflation.
The result was an “inflationary psychology” where expectations of higher prices become self-fulfilling.
The world today has stronger defences against an oil shock. Central banks now have clear mandates to keep inflation low and the credibility to act quickly. Research suggests the economic impact of oil price shocks has declined over time because wages adjust faster, central banks act decisively to keep inflation in check, and oil now makes up a smaller share of the economy.
Recent shocks confirm this transformation: the Russian invasion of Ukraine pushed up energy prices and inflation, but did not trigger a deep recession.
There is another difference as well. Today, high oil prices may encourage investment in renewable energy, and have the potential to accelerate the shift toward cleaner energy sources.
Modern economies are better prepared
The events of 1973 still offer an important lesson.
The damage caused by an energy shock depends not only on the size of the disruption but also on the economic environment in which it occurs. In the 1970s, heavy dependence on oil, rigid wage systems and uncertain economic policy amplified the crisis.
Modern economies are better prepared. Constraints on energy supply, however, remain real and the disruption to the Strait of Hormuz highlights this uncertainty. The duration and objectives of the current conflict remain unclear, and uncertainty itself is costly to businesses and the economy.
History is therefore less useful for prediction than for perspective. The size of a supply shock is only one piece of the puzzle; what matters is the system it hits, how long the shock persists and how it affects expectations.
Laura Panza does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
Social media platforms Instagram and YouTube have a design defect which means they are addictive, a jury in the United States has ruled.
The Los Angeles jury took nearly nine days to reach its verdict in the landmark case brought by a woman known as KGM against social media platforms. It awarded US$3 million (A$4.3 million) in damages, with Meta (owner of Instagram) being 70% responsible and Google (owner of YouTube) 30%. The jury later awarded a further US$3 million in punitive damages.
This is Meta’s second big loss in the US courts this week, with a New Mexico jury finding the company guilty on March 24 of concealing information about the risks of child sexual exploitation and the harmful effects of its platforms on children’s mental health.
KGM’s case is the first of its kind, but won’t be the last: it is one of more than 20 “bellwether” trials due to go to court soon. These are essentially test cases used to gauge juries’ reactions and set a legal precedent.
As such, the verdict is set to have far reaching ripple effects. It could be big tech’s big tobacco moment, with thousands more similar cases waiting in the wings.
Machines designed to addict
KGM – now 20 years old – said she began using YouTube at age six and Instagram at age nine, and allegedly developed compulsive use patterns, including up to 16 hours in a single day on Instagram. The platforms’ design features, she argued, contributed to her anxiety, depression, body dysmorphia, and suicidal ideation.
Her case argued that Meta and YouTube made deliberate design choices – for example, “infinite scroll” – to make their platforms more addictive to children in order to boost profits. It alleged the companies borrowed heavily from the behavioural and neurobiological techniques used by poker machines and exploited by the cigarette industry to maximise youth engagement and drive advertising revenue.
These companies built machines designed to addict the brains of children, and they did it on purpose.
Lanier cited an internal Meta study called “Project Myst”. This allegedly found that children who had experienced “adverse effects” were most likely to get addicted to Instagram, and that parents were powerless to stop the addiction.
The moment [KGM] was locked into the machine, her mom was locked out.
The jury heard that Meta’s internal communications compared the platform’s effects to pushing drugs and gambling. The jury found this internal awareness was the kind of corporate knowledge that supports liability.
In addition, a YouTube memo reportedly described “viewer addiction” as a goal, and an Instagram employee wrote the company was staffed by “basically pushers”.
Mark Lanier drew a direct parallel to tobacco litigation, arguing that where there is corporate knowledge, deliberate targeting, and public denial, liability follows.
Pointing the finger at the family
Meta argued KGM faced significant challenges before she ever used social media, and that the evidence did not support reducing a lifetime of hardship to a single factor.
Meta’s lawyer highlighted KGM’s family dynamics as responsible for her mental health struggles, and argued social media may have actually provided a healthy outlet for her when she faced difficulties at home.
In closing arguments, YouTube’s lawyer argued there was not a single mention of an addiction to YouTube in KGM’s medical records.
The companies centred part of their defence on Section 230 protections, arguing they cannot be held liable for content posted on their platforms.
However, the judge instructed the jury that the way content is delivered is a separate consideration to what the content is. This limited Meta and Google’s ability to rely on Section 230 protections.
This was one of the first cases against big tech which was a jury trial – something companies have previously been keen to avoid.
For example, in June 2024, a few months ahead of a scheduled jury trial in the Department of Justice’s challenge to Google’s advertising technology monopoly, Google paid more than US$2 million (A$2.8 million) to the Department of Justice.
This was treble the damages claimed, plus interest.
In the US, a jury trial is only required when monetary damages are at stake. By paying the full damages amount upfront in that case, Google eliminated the damages claim and with it, the right to a jury.
Until now, US courts have largely denied motions that focused on design.
This includes infinite scroll and notification systems. The distinction between “platform design” and “content curation” has been central to how courts have analysed First Amendment arguments in this litigation.
The effect of the jury’s verdict in KGM’s case is to demonstrate the limitations of the Section 230 protection.
The first – but not the last
This is the first big tech case, on a global basis, that has examined addiction as a cause of damage. Other cases have focused on breaches of law.
For example, in the case in New Mexico against Meta, the jury concluded the company made false or misleading statements and engaged in “unconscionable” trade practices that exploited children’s vulnerability and inexperience. It identified thousands of individual violations, resulting in a total penalty of US$375 million (A$539 million).
KGM’s case paves the way for the many other actions seeking damages from social media platforms for the effects of addiction.
There is logic for these cases to be heard concurrently in a class action in the US. The verdict could also be used as the basis for both class actions and individual actions on a global basis.
Meta and Google have said separately they plan to appeal the verdict.
Rob Nicholls is a part of the University of Sydney Centre for AI, Trust, and Governance and receives funding from the Australian Research Council.
On March 11, Iranian Sports Minister Ahmad Donyamali announced he saw “no possibility” of the country’s men’s national soccer team taking part in the World Cup scheduled for North America in June and July this year.
That prognosis came in the wake of US and Israeli military attacks on Iran, which have triggered a crisis across the Middle East.
Never before has a World Cup host nation been at war with one of the countries participating in the tournament.
The failure to find a diplomatic solution to longstanding multilateral tensions has not only impacted the supply of oil and trade routes, it has complicated one of the world’s largest sporting events.
In 2025, Gianni Infantino, president of soccer’s governing body – Fédération Internationale de Football Association (FIFA) – announced the inaugural “FIFA Peace Prize”.
the enormous efforts of those individuals who unite people, bringing hope for future generations.
In January 2026, US President Donald Trump was deemed the most worthy recipient of this accolade.
That is despite a litany of conduct at odds with the award, such as the US partnering Israel in the Gaza conflict, as well as the Trump administration’s “rapid authoritarian shift”, which has brought a substantial decline of civic freedoms at home.
Two months after Trump received his “peace prize”, the US partnered with Israel to provoke war against Iran.
Little wonder some critics have argued Trump’s award ought to be revoked.
Will Iran be welcome at the World Cup?
After meeting Infantino on March 10, Trump provided assurance the Iranian team would be “welcome to compete”.
Soon after, though, Trump wrote on his Truth Social media platform there would not be a welcome mat:
I really don’t believe it’s appropriate that they be there, for their own life and safety.
This veiled warning prompted a rebuke from the Iranian team, which insisted: “no individual could exclude a country from the World Cup”, and that it was the responsibility of a host nation to provide security guarantees for participants.
The players want to take part, even if their national sports minister feels it is a forlorn hope.
At this stage, scheduled friendly games against Nigeria and Costa Rica in Turkey, intended as preparation for the World Cup, are going ahead.
Pitch perambulations
Iran is scheduled to play three group-stage games in California and Seattle at the World Cup.
Competing in the United States is a sticking point for the Iranian Football Federation (FFIRI), which is responsible for the team.
We will prepare for the World Cup. We will boycott the United States but not the World Cup.
The Iranian hope, therefore, is the team be permitted to play in either Canada or Mexico, which are co-hosting with the US.
Mexico appears willing to play ball: on March 17, President Claudia Sheinbaum stated: “the nation stands prepared to host Iran’s group-stage matches should circumstances require”.
For the Iranians, the ability to take part seems more important than chasing a trophy: teams that make the final will play at New Jersey’s MetLife Stadium and Iran does not wish to play in the US.
This includes making Iran’s place in the tournament vacant – which would mean a walkover for opponents – or replacing it with a team from either Iraq or the United Arab Emirates, both of which narrowly missed qualifying via the Asian Football Confederation pathway.
That said, Iraq is already scheduled to play the winner of a match between Bolivia and Suriname for a spot in the World Cup.
The UAE lost to Iraq in the relevant Asian Confederation match, yet should Iraq win its intercontinental playoff match, the team from the Emirates might be given a FIFA free kick into the World Cup.
FIFA insists it did so for operational reasons: many countries refused to play against Russia, and if games were scheduled there would be concerns about security.
Privately, Infantino might be relieved Israel did not qualify for the World Cup, as both of these considerations may have come to light in the wake of the Gaza war and more recent attacks against Lebanon and Iran.
The withdrawal (or banning) of a team from the World Cup or qualifying matches has happened on a few occasions:
in 1994, Yugoslavia was banned from qualifying matches after the United Nations instituted a sport boycott against Serbia and Montenegro in respect of the Balkan conflict.
In each of these cases there were no follow-up penalties by FIFA.
If Iran withdraws from the World Cup, will FIFA sanction the FFIRI and, by extension, the national men’s team? A yellow card is feasible – a financial penalty. A red card is also possible – such as exclusion from the 2030 World Cup.
However, FIFA has the discretion not to impose any penalty, especially as the circumstances go beyond sport and have no parallel in World Cup history.
Daryl Adair does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
