With the 2026 World Cup barely a week away, the tournament has been rocked by allegations from a Boston University economist that FIFA is deliberately channelling thousands of unsold tickets through third-party resale platforms at a considerable discount. Professor Florian Ederer, of the Questrom School of Business, pointed to large blocks of seats for specific matches appearing on sites such as SeatGeek, suggesting the practice was designed to offload inventory without triggering refund obligations to fans who paid full price. The claim, spread rapidly on social media, has injected fresh uncertainty into an event already straining under logistical complexity.

SeatGeek and StubHub, the two largest secondary-market players cited, have moved swiftly to deny any collusion. A SeatGeek spokesperson told the Press Association and Newsweek that the company has “no partnership or distribution agreement with FIFA,” insisting it operates merely as a trusted marketplace. StubHub, while similarly disclaiming any direct relationship with the governing body, acknowledged that blocks of tickets were surfacing across multiple resale channels via third-party sellers, a pattern it described as a natural benefit of the resale ecosystem. The platforms’ protestations have done little to quell the controversy, however, particularly as screenshots of heavily discounted tickets continue to circulate online.

The row has erupted against a backdrop of wider ticketing turbulence. In France, the national team is locked in a separate dispute with its federation over the number of tickets allocated to players and reduced performance bonuses for the tournament—a rift that French media fear could disrupt morale on the eve of the competition. Viewed from Paris, the bickering over financial perks and access to seats echoes a sense of disconnect between official institutions and the athletes and supporters they serve. The French discontent, although distinct from the resale allegations, paints a picture of a World Cup already marred by mistrust over how the game’s showpiece is being managed.

For FIFA, the stakes are unusually high. The 2026 edition, spread across the United States, Canada and Mexico, is the most commercially ambitious in history, and any perception that tickets are being secretly dumped at cut rates threatens to alienate a fanbase already angered by high face-value prices and opaque distribution systems. Analysts in London note that the secondary market has long operated in a legal grey zone in many jurisdictions, but the suggestion of institutional collusion takes the debate into new territory. With the first kick-off looming, the governing body—contacted for comment by multiple outlets—faces mounting pressure to explain exactly how tickets are reaching discount resale sites and to guarantee that ordinary supporters are not being short-changed.