Why the World Cup remains the most powerful collective ritual known to mankind
Every era is defined by a dominant question.
For centuries, much of human experience was organized around a collective question: Who are we?
The answer could be found through religion, family, community, or nation. Individual identity certainly existed, but it was deeply intertwined with structures that provided belonging, meaning, and continuity. People did not need to constantly ask where they fit in because much of that answer was already embedded in the communities they inhabited.
Modernity has radically altered that equation.
Today, the dominant question shaping our collective narrative seems to be a different one: Who am I?
Contemporary culture celebrates individual authenticity. It encourages us to differentiate ourselves, build our own identity, and discover what makes us unique. We choose our preferences, beliefs, communities, role models, and even the causes with which we identify. The freedom to define ourselves is undoubtedly one of the great achievements of our time.
Yet every gain comes with a trade-off.
As individual identity has grown stronger, many traditional forms of collective identity have weakened. Institutions that for decades—or even centuries—served as natural spaces of belonging have gradually lost influence. Religion, for example, no longer occupies the central role it once held across broad sectors of society.
The result is an interesting paradox:
- Never before have we had so many tools to build an individual identity.
- Yet rarely has it been so difficult to build a shared identity.
The weakening of collective structures has not eliminated our deeply human need to belong.
- We still need common symbols.
- We still need shared stories.
- We still need an answer to the fundamental question: Who are we?
And that is where the FIFA World Cup becomes something far greater than a sporting event.
Viewed through a strictly rational lens, its scale is difficult to explain.
Every four years, billions of people alter their routines, reorganize schedules, suspend activities, and invest enormous emotional energy in a series of matches played by twenty-two athletes on a field.
From a purely functional perspective, none of this makes much sense.
And that is precisely what makes it so fascinating.
Because the true significance of the World Cup is not football itself.
It is what football makes possible.
For a few weeks, something reappears that has become increasingly rare in everyday life:
A “WE”.
A clear, recognizable, emotionally powerful “we.”
The national team becomes a collective symbol.
- The green, black, or white jersey ceases to be just clothing.
- The national anthem ceases to be mere protocol.
They become markers of shared identity.
For a few weeks, political, economic, professional, and ideological differences fade into the background, replaced by something far simpler:
WE.
WE ARE MEXICO.
That is why a victory by the national team sparks massive celebrations among people who have never met.
That is why strangers embrace.
That is why certain matches remain alive in collective memory for decades.
“It wasn’t a penalty…”
What remains etched in memory is not merely the score.
It is the shared experience.
The feeling of having been part of something larger than oneself.
And that is the true power of the World Cup.
In an era where much of our energy is devoted to building individual identities—to differentiate ourselves and carve out our place in the world—the World Cup continues to offer something increasingly scarce:
A temporary, simple, and powerful collective identity.
Perhaps that is why it remains one of the most significant cultural phenomena on the planet.
And when a ball can make millions of people shout “Mexico!” at the exact same moment, it ceases to be merely a sporting event.
It becomes a ritual.
A moment in which a nation stops being an abstract idea and becomes a shared emotion.
Perhaps the most powerful collective ritual contemporary culture has managed to create so far.