Hi there,

Welcome back to another week of Brand Matters. This week, we're unpacking Saudi Arabia's six billion dollar rebrand and what happens when sportswashing becomes the most effective brand strategy on the planet.

Also in today’s issue:

• Dave Chappelle, Pete Davidson, and the comedy festival that signals something bigger than laughs

• Nike doubles down on hustle culture while Lululemon sells emotional balance

• Burberry's weather campaign, Quorn's cheeky transparency, and The North Face wants you to touch grass

Let's get started.

When Countries Become Brands

Dave Chappelle took the stage in Riyadh and joked it was easier to perform there than in America. He was headlining the new Riyadh Comedy Festival, a splashy cultural moment backed by the Saudi state—sharing the bill with Pete Davidson, Louis C.K., Kevin Hart, and dozens more.

It was a high-wattage punchline—but also something bigger: the clearest sign yet that Saudi Arabia’s rebrand had moved beyond sport and into the heart of Western culture. The kingdom wasn’t buying laughs. It was buying legitimacy.

Davidson—whose father died on September 11, killed by terrorists, 15 of whom were Saudi nationals—took his payday. Chappelle made the quip. Everyone walked away richer.

This is the same kingdom that lured journalist Jamal Khashoggi into a consulate in 2018 and had him killed. That jails anyone who criticizes the royal family. That built its fortune on oil and its reputation on repression.

They didn’t start with apologies. They started with laughter. Then came the stadiums, the boxing matches, the golf tournaments, the Formula 1 circuits. A decade-long campaign across every corner of global culture—from comedy clubs to concert halls to the biggest sporting events on the planet.

This isn’t sportswashing anymore. It’s the largest rebranding effort in modern history. And it’s working because they learned the one lesson we taught them better than anyone: if you show up everywhere long enough, eventually people stop asking why you’re there.

The Six Billion Dollar Strategy

Since 2021, Saudi Arabia has spent over six billion dollars buying its way into global sport. Newcastle United: £300 million. LIV Golf: five billion dollars, with half a billion in losses last year alone. Aramco plastered across every Formula 1 broadcast: $450 million. The 2034 World Cup: theirs, as the only bidder still standing.

When Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman told Fox News he doesn’t care if you call it sportswashing “as long as it increases GDP by one percent,” he wasn’t being defensive. He was explaining the business model.

With $925 billion in sovereign wealth, no shareholders, no elections, and a forty-year runway in power, you don’t need to convince anyone you’re good. You just need to be everywhere until people stop noticing you’re not.

@skynews

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When Outrage Has a Shelf Life

The PGA Tour tried to hold its ground. Jay Monahan called LIV Golf "a betrayal," said he couldn't "compete against a foreign government." A year later, they merged. Turns out you can't outlast a system that doesn't need to turn a profit.

We've seen this pattern play out before. Qatar hosted the 2022 World Cup under global outrage about worker deaths and LGBTQ+ rights. Players wore rainbow armbands for about five minutes before FIFA threatened yellow cards.

Then Messi lifted the trophy in what might've been the greatest final ever played, and the moral debate evaporated like steam. I watched it in Argentina. Nobody mentioned Qatar once. We were too busy losing our minds over that final penalty and enjoyed the party for days to come.

Abu Dhabi bought Manchester City in 2008. Human rights concerns lasted about a week before people started caring about Premier League titles. China hosted the Olympics twice while accused of genocide. The IOC smiled, took the money, moved on.

Outrage fades. Highlights live forever.

The genius isn't in suppressing criticism—it's in understanding that criticism has a half-life measured in news cycles, while a goal scored in the 118th minute of a World Cup final echoes for generations.

The Playbook

For anyone working in branding, the mechanics aren't shocking—they're familiar. This isn't propaganda in the Soviet sense. It's brand architecture at a national scale, following the exact same logic as every campaign we've celebrated.

They even published the brief. Vision 2030 is Saudi Arabia's economic diversification plan—a publicly available document laying out exactly how they intend to transform the kingdom's image and economy. Sports and entertainment aren't side projects. They're strategic pillars.

Own the category. Associate with what people already love. Keep showing up until your presence feels normal.

Nike built rebellion into its DNA by paying athletes and flooding culture with their image. Red Bull turned adrenaline into lifestyle by owning the events, not just sponsoring them. Saudi Arabia is doing the same thing with attention. They're not advertising morality. They're buying culture.

But they've gone further. They're not just sponsoring events—they're buying entire leagues, hosting massive tournaments, building purpose-built venues. Coca-Cola sponsors the World Cup. Saudi Arabia hosts it. One is a logo on a banner. The other is the stadium, the broadcast, the memory itself.

The celebrity appearances aren't accidents either. When Cristiano Ronaldo signs with Al Nassr, when Dave Chappelle performs there—each one gives permission to the next. It normalizes the choice. If he went, why shouldn't I?

Someone designed this system. Someone built the strategy, structured the deals, orchestrated the rollout. And honestly? I'd love to tell you I wouldn't take the money. But the truth is, most of us would. Because most of us already have.

The Business of Looking Away

Every rights-holder claims to care about integrity, equality, or sustainability—until the check is big enough. Formula 1 preaches net zero while cashing half a billion from the world's biggest oil company. Lewis Hamilton posts about human rights, then races in Saudi Arabia, then says he's "just a driver" when pressed.

FIFA's own report rated Saudi Arabia's human-rights risk as "medium," then handed them the World Cup anyway. Norway's football federation publicly opposed the decision. They still played in the qualifiers.

We built the language that makes this possible. "Expanding reach." "Emerging markets." "Cultural partnerships." Clean words for complicated arrangements. They're not bending the system—they're playing the game better than we ever did, because we taught them the rules.

And we keep teaching them. Every time someone takes the money and calls it complicated.

What Happens Next

The calendar keeps filling. More events, bigger names, cleaner production. Each one makes the next feel more inevitable.

By 2034, a billion people will watch the World Cup in Riyadh. The stadiums will glow. The coverage will be flawless. Celebrities will post from the stands. The moral debate will happen somewhere else—muted, exhausted, out of view.

Sports and comedy have always united people when nothing else can. They're universal languages—a goal, a punchline, a collective roar. They bypass borders, politics, ideology. Saudi Arabia didn't invent that power. They just recognized it and wrote a check big enough to own it.

Once you're associated with those moments—the ones where we forget our differences and just feel something together—you’re no longer the villain. You’re just part of the experience. And eventually, the memory itself gets rewritten. The joy remains. The context fades.

We'll watch the World Cup in 2034. We'll have feelings about it. Maybe write something like this again. But we'll tune in. Because we love sport; the drama, the stakes, the moments that live forever. And they'll probably even put on the best tournament money can buy.

That's what they're counting on. Not conversion. Just that we love this thing more than we hate what's behind it.

They're running the most effective brand campaign on the planet, using the same strategy that built every global brand we admire: association, repetition, and the slow erosion of discomfort.

We handed it to them, not because we were fooled, but because we were willing.

Brand Wars: Same Sweat, Different Religion

Nike

Nike is still the king of the hustle era. The brand that made ambition feel electric. It’s not just about sport — it’s about pressure, pride, and pushing your limits until something gives. Their new Why Do It? campaign doesn’t soften the message. It doubles down. Every shot is dialled up: athletes in the zone, pain as proof, greatness as something you fight for.

The campaign isn’t asking deep philosophical questions. It’s asking if you’re willing to suffer for your goals. That’s Nike’s lane — and they’re staying in it.

Nike doesn’t care about your recovery score. They care if you’ve got the guts to show up when it hurts.

Lululemon

Lululemon is playing a different game. It’s still about performance — but redefined for a different generation. A Lululemon athlete is no less driven, but their identity isn’t wrapped in domination. It’s wrapped in presence, in mindfulness, in tracking your HRV and knowing when to rest.

The gear is high-end, sure. But the brand is selling emotional balance more than physical achievement. Lululemon didn’t arrive to dethrone Nike — it arrived to change the rules of what peak performance even looks like.

This isn’t about intensity. It’s about sustainability. And in a culture where burnout is everywhere, that message lands.

Ad of the Week: Burberry

It’s Always Burberry Weather

Olivia Colman plays everything from a chip shop worker to a cricket fan in Burberry’s new campaign — basically giving London weather the Wes Anderson treatment. Directed by John Madden, it’s theatrical, charming, and definitely not subtle.

The real play? While Colman sells nostalgia to the UK crowd, Burberry’s rolling out immersive “railway station” pop-ups in China, Japan, and the UAE. Same trench coats, different backdrop.

Classic British branding move: make rain look cinematic at home, then ship the fantasy overseas.

Lento Vibes

A bit of random inspo from around the grounds:

• Podcast Pair Drop “Overnight Experts”: Chris Colter & Sam Geer launch Overnight Experts, a deep-dive marketing + culture podcast tackling topics from cancel culture to fringe trends. 👉 Listen now

• Agencies Brace for the Cutback: Forrester forecasts a 15% slump in agency headcounts in 2026, pushed by AI, automation, and shifting value models. 👉 See the forecast 

• Quorn Stands Naked with “Nothing To Hide”: Quorn returns to TV with cheeky ads—barnyard puppets realizing they’re naked, leaning into transparency (and humor). 👉 Watch the campaign 

• ASICS Scoffs at Luxury Escapes: “15-Minute Escapes” is ASICS’ new jab at wellness travel—claiming short daily movement beats expensive retreats. Natasha Rothwell fronts the push. 👉 See the film

• The North Face Wants You to Touch Grass: “Touch Grass” is TNF’s playful call-out to digital burnout. Step outside, look good doing it—with style and purpose. 👉 Explore the vibe