Why the U.S. Shouldn’t ‘Rush’ to Host the Rugby World Cup … in 2031

Why is hosting theRugby World Cup in the United States suddenly in doubt? For years, American rugby has operated under a quiet assumption: that challenging USA Rugby risks provoking World Rugby into pulling theRugby World Cup scheduled for 2031. That assumption suppresses accountability. But if hosting were genuinely secure, criticism of a national governing body would not threaten it. The only logical conclusion is that the event is already exposed. World Rugby does not award tournaments as development grants; it underwrites delivery risk, reputational exposure and financial variance. If the U.S. is no longer the lowest-risk option, sentiment is irrelevant.
The belief that hosting “fixes” broken systems is widely held—and repeatedly contradicted by evidence. New Zealand hosted in 2011 and faced political backlash and public cost overruns, but saw no lasting participation lift. England hosted in 2015, filled stadiums, and still experienced no sustained participation increase; the RFU later entered severe financial distress. The U.S. hosted the 2018 Rugby World Cup Sevens in San Francisco, delivering spectacle but no durable participation, commercial or professional gains.
France 2023 should have represented the safest possible World Cup environment: dense geography, full stadiums, mature infrastructure and a Tier-1 rugby culture. Yet post-event reporting byFrance 24 andLe Monde cited watchdog findings of “major failures,” with losses widely reported in the €20–30 million range. If France could not guarantee surplus under optimal conditions, it is difficult to argue that the U.S. presents a lower-risk commercial proposition.
World Rugby’s U.S. strategy assumed professional rugby would stabilize ahead of the World Cup window. Instead, the opposite occurred. In 2025 alone, reporting byReuters and regional outlets documented multiple Major League Rugby franchises exiting or being consolidated. NOLA Gold ceased operations after millions in losses; Houston ownership cited losses exceeding $50 million before exiting; Miami withdrew; and two California franchises were merged to preserve league continuity. Whether described as exits or forced consolidation, the professional footprint shrank materially during the pre-World-Cup runway. When a league contracts under rising load, hosting risk increases—there is no neutral interpretation.
World Rugby threatening a host is not unprecedented. In 2015, concerns surrounding Japan’s Rugby World Cup preparations—including the scrapping and redesign of Tokyo’s flagship national stadium due to cost overruns—prompted public discussion about venue readiness and delivery risk. World Rugby made clear that hosting was conditional on guarantees being met. Japan responded by restructuring its elite competition and later launching Japan Rugby League One under revised governance and ownership expectations. Japan complied. Japan hosted. The precedent is clear: hosting is conditional on structural readiness.
Abstract governance debates collapse when basic participation and revenue data are examined. Rocky Mountain Rugby governs multiple U.S. states with a combined population in the millions, yet operates with roughly 1,000 registered participants and annual revenues in the $50,000–$60,000 range. Rugby Texas is often cited as a participation stronghold, yet in 2025 reported just 78 registered high-school girls in a state of roughly 30 million people. These are not anomalies. They are indicators. A system with state-scale geography, four-digit participation and coffee-shop-level revenue cannot credibly be described as World Cup-ready.
If not the U.S., where does that leave World Rugby? Once U.S. risk is acknowledged, geography narrows quickly. South Africa lacks the public-finance headroom to underwrite a modern Rugby World Cup without significant exposure. England and Ireland face financial pressure and political sensitivity around public subsidy, and France 2023 demonstrated the downside clearly. If World Rugby’s priority is risk reduction, history suggests it will favor fully underwritten sovereign hosts when available.
The lowest-risk option left for World Rugby is delay: push the U.S. Rugby World Cups to 2039 and 2041, and use the intervening years to ensure the system can actually carry the load being placed upon it.
The future of American rugby will not be decided by whether a tournament arrives on schedule. It will be decided by whether the next investment finally feeds the system—instead of feeding off it.
Michael Fealey is a sport systems consultant with more than two decades of experience across professional sport, national governing bodies, and community rugby. He writes on the structural economics of sport, examining why leagues and governing bodies fail despite investment — and how system architecture determines long-term viability.
