Here's something that sounds counterintuitive: in 2026, the United States will help host the biggest sporting event ever staged in North America—the FIFA World Cup, featuring 48 teams and millions of visitors flooding cities from Los Angeles to New York—and there's a decent chance the economy could be in recession while it happens.

Not because of the World Cup, mind you. But despite it.

The U.S. will share hosting duties with Canada and Mexico in what promises to be one of the most complex tourism and logistics operations in sports history. The conventional wisdom says events like this should pump up the economy: infrastructure spending, packed hotels, restaurant booms, jersey sales, the whole nine yards. Excitement translates to dollars, dollars translate to growth, and everyone goes home happy.

Except economics doesn't quite work that way, and the data tells a story that's far less exciting than the highlight reels.

The World Cup Economic Boost Is Mostly a Myth

Economists have been studying this question for decades, and their findings are surprisingly consistent: World Cups rarely deliver the economic windfall that host countries promise when they're bidding for the event.

The gains tend to be short-lived, concentrated in narrow sectors like hospitality and retail, and often get swamped by the costs of building or renovating stadiums and infrastructure. Governments foot the bill for construction, and what looks like new economic activity is often just spending that gets shifted around rather than created from scratch.

Someone who was going to take a vacation in July might now visit during the World Cup instead. A city spends millions on a stadium that sits mostly empty afterward. The tournament creates a burst of activity, but it doesn't fundamentally change the trajectory of a $29 trillion economy.

So hosting a World Cup isn't the GDP rocket fuel people imagine. It's more like a sparkler: bright and flashy for a moment, then gone.

What the Historical Data Actually Shows

Let's look at what happened to the countries that actually hosted the tournament.

Using World Bank data, we can compare each host country's GDP growth during its World Cup year against its own long-term historical average. The pattern is striking: most hosts posted positive growth during the tournament year—about 82% of them, in fact. Only Argentina in 1978 and Mexico in 1986 were in outright recession, while Japan saw stagnation in 2002.

That sounds pretty good, until you dig one layer deeper.

When you measure each host's World Cup year performance against its own typical growth rate, the story flips. On average, GDP growth during World Cup years came in 1.05 percentage points lower than normal. In other words, hosting the tournament tends to coincide with slightly softer economic performance than a typical year.

Even when you narrow the sample to just advanced economies—countries more similar to the United States—the picture doesn't improve much. Seven out of eight advanced economy hosts posted positive growth, but their World Cup year performance still came in around 0.5 percentage points below their historical averages.

The takeaway is clear: hosting the World Cup doesn't tend to goose GDP. If anything, it often coincides with growth that's perfectly ordinary, or even a bit sluggish.

What Happened When the U.S. Hosted in 1994?

The United States last hosted the World Cup in 1994, and that year the economy grew at a solid 4% clip. That ranks in the 67th percentile of all U.S. growth outcomes since World War II, meaning only about one-third of years were stronger.

Pretty impressive, right? Problem is, the World Cup probably had nothing to do with it.

Academic studies of the 1994 tournament found no measurable boost to national income or employment. The spending it generated was highly localized—some host cities saw temporary bumps in tourism and hospitality—but there was no detectable macroeconomic effect at the national level.

What actually drove the strong 1994 performance? A cyclical rebound from the early 1990s recession, accelerating productivity growth, the post-Cold War normalization of defense spending, and supportive Federal Reserve policy. The economy was humming along nicely, and the World Cup just happened to be there for the ride.

Economically speaking, the World Cup was a spectator, not a driver.

Will 2026 Be Any Different?

The 2026 tournament will be bigger, longer, and more commercially valuable than any previous edition. But the macro forces shaping the U.S. economy are far, far larger.

Yes, the World Cup will boost tourism. Yes, it will deliver short-term bumps to hospitality and retail in host cities. But these effects are nowhere near large enough to move the needle on a $29 trillion economy.

Historical data makes this clear: hosting a World Cup rarely translates into stronger GDP performance, even among advanced economies. For the United States in 2026, the event will likely deliver excitement, packed stadiums, and memorable games. But a measurable GDP boom? Don't count on it.

So What Are the Odds of a Recession During the World Cup?

Here's where things get interesting. Betting markets suggest there's a meaningful risk the U.S. economy could slip into recession during 2026, the same year it hosts the World Cup.

On Polymarket, the probability of a U.S. recession by the end of 2026 currently sits near 33%, implying a one-in-three chance of a downturn arriving during the tournament year. A $1 bet on the U.S. avoiding recession by 2026 returns about 45 cents, while wagering on a recession pays out closer to $3.

Historically, though, recessions during World Cup host years are rare. Over the past sixty years, only two hosts—Argentina in 1978 and Mexico in 1986—were in recession while staging the event. That's an 11% historical probability, far lower than what prediction markets are pricing in.

But if there's a better guide to what might happen in 2026, it's not sports. It's politics.

The United States will hold midterm elections in 2026, and these historically have a much stronger link to economic performance than World Cups do. Out of 20 midterm elections since World War II, only four occurred during an NBER-defined recession: 1970, 1974, 1982, and 1990. That's 20% of the time.

So while prediction markets are pricing in heightened recession risk, historical patterns around both World Cups and U.S. midterm elections suggest downturns during these years are more the exception than the norm.

The Bottom Line

The 2026 World Cup will be a spectacle. It will fill hotels, pack restaurants, sell jerseys, and create memorable moments for millions of fans. But it won't save the U.S. economy from a recession if one is coming, and it probably won't add much to GDP growth even if things go well.

The idea that mega sporting events deliver economic miracles is one of those things that sounds right but falls apart when you look at the data. Hosting shifts spending around, creates temporary bumps in narrow sectors, and leaves governments with infrastructure bills. The real drivers of economic performance—monetary policy, productivity growth, business investment, consumer confidence—operate on a completely different scale.

So yes, the United States could absolutely enter a recession while hosting the 2026 World Cup. Not because of the tournament, but because recessions happen, and soccer games don't change that. History suggests it's unlikely, but prediction markets think there's a real chance.

Either way, the World Cup will be a sideshow to the main economic story, not the headline act.