A Clash of Cultures: How Women’s Football Triumphs its Inclusivity, where the Men’s Game stutters

Deputy Editor Ilaria Riccio assesses the diverging rates of inclusivity of men and women’s football - and how these elements exacerbate the segregation of the sport along gender lines.

On 17th February 2024, a new record of attendance was set in the English Women’s Super League. A total of 60,160 spectators sold out the Emirates Stadium - home ground of Arsenal Football Club and occasionally its women’s team - for the clash between Arsenal and Manchester United. This number is an incredible milestone in women’s football and attests to its increasing popularity. 

With regards to the atmosphere inside the Emirates, it was an afternoon of celebration for the beautiful game. However, if the same number of people gathered at the Emirates to see the Arsenal men’s team, we would be talking about a drastically different atmosphere - I am exaggerating to prove my point, bear with me. 

Wembley may make for a more appropriate example. On 11th July 2021, the world-famous stadium saw England and Italy face off in the UEFA Euro 2020 final; before the match however, chaos ensued outside the stadium and in central London, with England fans violently attacking anything that came their way - and they had yet to lose the match. A mere year later, on 31st July 2022, Wembley hosted the final of the UEFA Women’s Euro between England and Germany; not a single violent incident was reported, and the match was what it should be - a celebration. 

But how can the same sport generate such different atmospheres? The answer is pretty straightforward: there is a huge difference between men and women’s football, whereby the former continues to lag behind the latter with regards to inclusivity both on and off the pitch. 

It could be said the ghosts of hooliganism still loom around football stadiums and continue to uphold the perception that going to a match is a dangerous experience. Or at least, this assumption was prevalent as my passion for football first developed when I was around nine years old. My father, a Napoli season ticket holder, decided to grant my wish and bring me along to selected matches - where ‘selected’ refers to games against lower-table teams, considered relatively safer for a young girl to attend. I lost count of how many times I watched Napoli play against teams such as Parma, Lecce, and Empoli - all due respect to these teams - during my first years as a football fan. A few years later, I became a season ticket holder myself, which meant I was finally allowed at higher-stakes games. There, I could attest that mine was not an isolated experience: at games against the likes of AC Milan and Juventus FC, children in attendance were few and scattered, while their numbers increased against lower-ranked teams. 

It could be said the ghosts of hooliganism still loom around football stadiums and continue to uphold the perception that going to a match is a dangerous experience.

This trend is completely reversed in women’s football. Since the regular season resumed after the World Cup, I encountered several posts on social media from fans of the women’s game highlighting how the presence of families with young children at women’s football games is dramatically increasing. If, on the one hand, this is a positive development as it shows young girls that they, too, can play football, this trend is further exacerbating the segregation of football across gender lines - which, in turn, fuels gender stereotypes. 

Since its inception, football has been seen as the epitome of hegemonic masculinity. Coined by Raewyn Connell, this notion posits that traits such as competitiveness and toughness are stereotypically masculine - thus their privilege in football. It is for this reason that female footballers are assumed to be lesbians until proven otherwise - indeed, a masculine self-presentation has almost always been stereotypically associated with lesbianism. 

This latter point explains why women’s football is more inclusive with regards to players’ sexual orientation. Indeed, a large majority of female footballers are openly members of the LGBTQ+ community. Conversely, at the time of writing, there is only one openly gay footballer across the Top Five European leagues and who also plays for his national team; Czech midfielder Jakub Jankto came out with a short yet powerful video shared on his social media in February 2023. Jankto’s coming out was met with overwhelming support from all corners of the football world as he expressed his desire to “no longer hide.” Nevertheless, controversial statements on the matter soon followed: when it was announced that Jankto would join Serie A side Cagliari last summer, Italian Sports Minister stated that while he supports people’s freedom to be themselves, he “condemn(s) ostentations.”

A large majority of female footballers are members of the LGBTQ+ community. Conversely, as of this writing, there is only one openly gay footballer across the Top Five European leagues who also plays for his national team.

Paradoxically, the (men’s) football world - including UEFA and FIFA - praised Jankto, yet it remains a profoundly homophobic environment. I have been to plenty of matches in the past fourteen years to attest to the continuous use of homophobic slurs to insult players who were not playing to their usual standards - or rival players just for the sake of it. The normalisation of homophobic language in football stems, once again, from hegemonic masculinity, and upholds it by perpetuating the idea that gay men are somehow ‘not man enough’. 

The normalisation of homophobic language in football stems, once again, from hegemonic masculinity, and upholds it by perpetuating the idea that gay men are somehow ‘not man enough’.

It is perhaps even more contradictory that homophobic language is practically entirely absent in women’s football despite it being an extremely queer-inclusive space. In many ways, media discourse surrounding women’s football contributes to upholding its aura of inclusivity. One way this manifests is through the emphasis placed on the players’ personal lives: during the World Cup, many fans’ TikTok feeds were filled with creators dissecting cross and intra-team relationships amongst players. This trend was already highlighted in a 2016 study on the media coverage of the French National Team at the 2011 FIFA Women’s World Cup. Another common trend identified by the study is the infantilisation of female footballers; while this may not be the case anymore, the legacy of this discourse persists in the view that women’s football games are safer for children to attend. 

It is perhaps even more contradictory that homophobic language is practically entirely absent in women’s football despite it being an extremely queer-inclusive space.

Men’s football needs to support their claims of inclusivity with meaningful actions: it is not enough to wear the Rainbow Laces on selected matches and call it a day. Until then, the diverging levels of inclusivity between men and women’s football will continue to uphold gender stereotypes - unfortunately perpetuating the view that men’s football is an environment where queerness is unwelcome.