The news that Fifa has coughed up the full wages for Somali referee Artan, bowing to a UK-backed equal pay campaign, is a fascinating moment in our descent into bureaucratic absurdity. One can almost hear the Victorian moralists applauding from the grave. Of course, the principle of equal pay is sacrosanct in our modern faith, but let us not pretend this is a victory for justice.
It is a ransom paid to the court of public opinion, a reminder that the true power in football now resides not in the boardroom, but in the twitterstorm. The referee's case is undoubtedly a worthy one: a woman officiating in a war-torn country, battling not just the elements but the ancient prejudices of her homeland. Yet Fifa's sudden benevolence smells of expedience not principle.
They have learned the lesson of the Roman emperors: when the mob demands bread and circuses, you give them circuses. Here the circus is a cheque. The UK's role in this is particularly telling.
Having lost its own footballing empire, Britain now fancies itself a global arbiter of morality. It is a cheap way to feel important, to remind the world that even as its economy falters, its values are for export. But let us be honest: this campaign succeeded because it was easy.
It targeted a low-hanging fruit, a single official in a nation where Fifa's reputation is already in tatters. The real test would be to take on the institutionalised disparities in the Premier League, where female referees are still a novelty and where the old boys' network is as entrenched as the offside rule. But that would require courage, not just a hashtag.
So we applaud the outcome while eyeing the process with suspicion. Fifa has done the decent thing, but decency in the age of outrage is a currency devalued by inflation. Artan deserves every coin she has been paid.
But spare us the sanctimony: this is a story about power, not equality.
