This post is one in a series on the business of sports, curated by Hult professors Tom Sullivan and Rob Anthony and leading up to the 2026 FIFA World Cup. The content series highlights the intersection of business and the global sports industry, and what they can learn from each other.
by Dr. Katherine Angell, Associate Professor of Humanities, Hult International Business School
As a historian of entertainment, I study how audiences are repeatedly invited to feel closer to the spectacles they love while also being asked to spend more money to do so. From bear-baiting on Bankside to Victorian music halls, from premium television subscriptions to modern streaming platforms, the history of entertainment is also the history of monetised participation.
Football is no exception. Indeed, in London today, football may be one of the city’s most sophisticated entertainment industries: globally marketed, emotionally charged, data-driven, and deeply tied to identity. As a Tottenham Hotspur supporter, I know the peculiar mixture of devotion, hope, grievance, and irrational loyalty that fandom can produce. That emotional energy is precisely what modern sport seeks to harness.
Which is why fan tokens matter.
Over the past few years, clubs have sold blockchain-based “fan tokens” that promise supporters influence, rewards, and a closer relationship with their teams. But what if this model moved beyond clubs? What if supporters could buy into the national game itself? Could England fans own a digital stake in the Three Lions? Could token holders vote on friendlies, shirt designs, or even pressure federations over managerial appointments?
It might sound far-fetched. It may also be closer than many think.
Football’s newest product: Selling governance
Fan tokens are digital assets, usually built on blockchain infrastructure and sold through sports engagement platforms such as Socios.com. They are marketed as a way for supporters to gain voting rights on selected club matters, access exclusive content, and win experiences.
The model spread rapidly. By 2022, more than 160 sports organisations globally had partnered with Socios, including football clubs such as Barcelona, Paris Saint-Germain, Juventus, Arsenal, Inter Milan, and Atlético Madrid.
London clubs joined too. West Ham United became the first Premier League club to launch a Socios fan token in 2019. Arsenal introduced the $AFC token in 2021. Tottenham Hotspur later entered the digital fan-engagement space through a partnership with Socios.
The proposition is seductive: no longer just a fan, you are now a stakeholder.
Yet in practice, token voting has usually covered limited issues, including walkout music, training-ground murals, celebratory slogans, warm-up kit designs, and hospitality experiences. Important matters such as ownership, ticket prices, transfer strategy, and executive accountability remain firmly elsewhere.
That distinction is crucial. Fans are being sold the symbolism of power more often than power itself.
A historian’s view: This is an old story in new clothes
Entertainment industries have repeatedly monetised proximity and connection. In the nineteenth century, music halls sold intimacy with performers. Twentieth-century cinema sold memberships and celebrity access. Television sold premium subscription tiers. Social media sells interaction with influencers. Modern football now sells a sense of governance.
This is why fan tokens should be understood less as democratic reform and more as the latest stage in commercial fan engagement.
Football supporters have long sought real representation. In England, supporters’ trusts emerged to demand transparency and community stewardship. Supporters Direct, founded in 2000 with government backing, helped fans pursue ownership stakes and board influence at clubs across the football pyramid. AFC Wimbledon, formed after Wimbledon FC’s relocation, became one of the clearest examples of supporters creating a club rather than merely consuming one.
Those movements asked: How do fans govern football? I believe fan tokens ask instead: How do fans purchase the feeling of governing football?
Why clubs like the model
From a business perspective, the appeal is obvious.
Fan tokens offer a potentially scalable revenue stream because stadium capacity is finite whereas global digital fandom is not. Tokens allow clubs to monetise supporters in Jakarta, Lagos, São Paulo, or Seoul just as effectively as those in London.
A shirt purchase is a single transaction, but a token ecosystem represents a sustained and stable channel. A token ecosystem encourages weekly interaction through polls, rewards, and repeat spending. Tokens also produce valuable data, since every vote, click, purchase, and login creates behavioural information useful for future marketing.
For football clubs, this is also a form of brand extension, allowing historic institutions to expand their commercial footprint into finance, gaming, and digital communities. For clubs facing wage inflation, Profit and Sustainability Rules (PSR), Financial Fair Play (FFP) constraints, and growing competition for fan attention, that is attractive.
Crypto platforms need football, too
The value in the relationship between clubs and crypto runs both ways.
Football clubs possess something many crypto ventures have lacked: trust, longevity, and emotional recognition. Tottenham Hotspur (1882), Arsenal (1886), and West Ham United (1895) are institutions embedded in family memory and civic culture.
A blockchain company may be new and abstract. A football club feels real.
This is why legacy clubs became useful partners for Web3 firms seeking credibility. Association with a century-old institution can do in one partnership what ten years of marketing cannot.
So why stop at clubs? Could fans own the national team?
Here the idea becomes more provocative. National teams possess enormous emotional capital. England’s run to the Euro 2020 final drew television audiences of more than 30 million in the UK for the final. The Lionesses’ Euro 2022 triumph (which I was lucky enough to witness with my daughter) produced record interest, commercial growth, and a transformed women’s football landscape. World Cups remain among the most watched media events on earth.
If clubs can tokenise loyalty, why not federations?
Imagine an FA-issued England Fan Token that offered supporters the chance to vote on non-competitive friendly opponents, contribute views on kit designs or pre-match music, gain access to training content and behind-the-scenes media, participate in polls on youth development priorities, or register symbolic confidence or no-confidence votes on the manager.
Commercially, it could be huge because it would tap into millions of England supporters, global diaspora markets, tournament hype cycles, new sponsor integrations, and continuous engagement between tournaments. It is easy to see why executives might be interested.
What would a token actually get you? A draft framework for national team ownership
The question at the heart of any national token proposal is deceptively simple: what does ownership mean in practice? At club level, the answer has largely been: not much. But the national team context, with its vast emotional reach and public legitimacy, demands a more rigorous answer. Here is how a genuinely meaningful token framework could be structured.
Tier One: Symbolic Ownership
This is where all existing token models currently operate, and where a national token would inevitably begin. Tier One rights are low-stakes, high-engagement, and broadly uncontroversial. They include votes on pre-match walk-out music and anthem arrangements, input on away kit colour schemes and design accents, selection of commemorative match programmes and fan-zone experiences, and naming rights for non-competitive tournament hashtags or campaign slogans.
These are not trivial symbols, they matter to fans as expressions of identity. But they carry no structural power over the team’s sporting direction. Their primary value to the FA is engagement data and a permanent low-cost marketing channel to tokenholders.
Tier Two: Consulting Influence
This is where things become genuinely interesting. Tier Two rights would give token holders meaningful consultative influence (though not binding) over decisions that fans care about most. The most logical candidate is friendly fixture selection. The FA already schedules international friendlies with commercial and developmental considerations in mind. A token vote on which non-UEFA opponents England faces in a given international window would be significant, visible, and relatively safe from sporting harm.
Beyond fixtures, Tier Two could include advisory votes on training camp locations, polling on squad call-up philosophies (should fringe home-based players get more opportunities than European-based ones?), and input on the FA’s grassroots funding priorities. Published responses to these votes where the FA must explain publicly whether it followed fan sentiment and why would be the key accountability mechanism that distinguishes genuine consultation from pantomime.
Tier Three: Governance Impact
This is the territory that would make football administrators deeply uncomfortable, and rightly so. Tier Three rights potentially reach as far as the selection of a manager. A formal no-confidence mechanism where, say, 70% of token holders voting in a ratified poll could trigger a mandatory FA board review of the head coach’s position would represent something without precedent in international football governance.
The argument for it is strongly democratic. If supporters are asked to financially participate in national football, they deserve more than cosmetic input on the team they fund through ticket sales, replica shirts, and broadcast subscriptions. The argument against it is also compelling: football decisions made by short-term emotional majorities tend toward catastrophe. After every poor tournament result, a confidence vote would almost certainly produce a dismissal trigger, regardless of the manager’s longer-term project.
The democratic problem: Who gets a voice?
Any token model for a national team immediately confronts a problem that club tokens can avoid: England belongs, symbolically, to everyone. It is not a private entity with shareholders. It represents a public identity. Yet tokens, by definition, create a two-tier fandom those who pay for influence and those who do not.
There are three possible approaches to this tension. The first is the pure market model: tokens are traded assets, voting weight reflects holdings, and influence is frankly plutocratic. This is how most current fan tokens work. It is commercially logical and democratically indefensible for a national institution.
The second is the one-token-one-vote model: regardless of how many tokens a supporter holds, each wallet gets one vote. This is more equitable but creates perverse incentives, the FA would want to sell as many tokens as possible to maximise revenue, while simultaneously limiting voting weight per holder, which reduces the token’s financial value proposition.
The third model is the most interesting: a hybrid system where a free digital membership (registered through the FA’s existing fan database) grants Tier One and Tier Two voting rights to any supporter, while a paid token provides Tier Three access, exclusive content, and matchday perks. This separates democratic participation from financial speculation and is the model most consistent with the national team’s public character. It also has a precedent: the German Football Association’s DFB fan membership structure, which combines registered supporter rights with commercial membership benefits.
Concrete application
The women’s game presents a distinct test case. Despite the Lionesses’ Euro 2022 triumph, the structural funding gap between the men’s and women’s games remains stark in many important ways. There is a gap in coaching infrastructure, academy investment, and professional pathway development. A token model raises a values-based question, would commercial logic direct revenue toward the larger men’s fanbase, or could a well-designed framework result in a meaningful allocation for the women’s game? A Tier Two vote allowing token holders to set the FA’s annual funding split between men’s and women’s development would be genuinely radical and, most likely, genuinely popular.
The risks are real, and specific
Regulatory risk also remains significant. The UK Advertising Standards Authority previously ruled against Arsenal promotions relating to fan tokens for insufficiently communicating crypto risk. A national association would face even greater scrutiny if inviting mass participation in volatile digital assets.
There are also FIFA and UEFA trust deficits. There is already scepticism toward governing bodies over governance failures, corruption scandals, fixture congestion, and commercial excess. Tokenisation might be sold as democratisation, but it could also be seen as yet another greedy monetisation scheme.
There are two additional risks specific to the national team context worth naming directly.
The first is the tournament cycle problem. England fan sentiment is extraordinarily volatile around major tournaments. A token purchased in the euphoria of a successful European Championship campaign would be held by a very different emotional constituency three months later after a Nations League defeat. Governance mechanisms designed during fan optimism would face very different pressures during the inevitable periods of disappointment. Any national token framework must be designed with this cyclical emotional volatility built in as the baseline condition and not as an isolated incident.
The second is the diaspora legitimacy question. An England token sold globally, to supporters in Australia, the United States, Nigeria, and across the diaspora, creates an interesting political question: should a supporter in Lagos have the same weight of voice over the England manager’s future as a supporter in Sunderland who has attended every home qualifier for twenty years? The answer is not obvious. But it must be answered before any token is issued, not after.
Could it be done better?
Yes, and the design principles are not complicated: separate financial speculation from democratic participation; publish every vote result and every FA response; give supporters elected representatives with real access rather than symbolic influence; and do not treat the national team’s governance as a product category.
The most honest version of a national England token would be a supporter membership with digital infrastructure. It would not promise governance power it cannot deliver. It would not attach volatile financial instruments to patriotic feeling. And it would commit, in writing, to a minimum standard of engagement because the history of fan tokens at club level suggests that without contractual obligations, the polls get smaller and the questions get more trivial every season.
London’s lesson
Living in London today, one sees football’s dual identity clearly. It is still tribal, local, emotional, and rooted in place. But it is also premium entertainment, tourism infrastructure, media content, and global commerce.
As a Spurs fan, I understand the romance of feeling involved. But supporters usually sense the difference between being heard and being marketed to. Fan tokens identify something real: supporters want connection, voice, and belonging. But too often they answer that desire with products rather than power.
If tokenisation moves from clubs to national teams, the commercial upside may be considerable. Yet so too are the ethical and political risks. A club can experiment with monetised fandom. The national game carries a deeper public meaning.
From where I stand, football does not need to sell fans the feeling of ownership. It needs to decide whether it is prepared to share any actual ownership with fans at all.
Finally: Come On You Spurs!
