The footballing world is abuzz, and indeed, scratching its collective head, at the announcement that Cristiano Ronaldo, at the venerable age of 41, has been called up to the Portuguese national squad. New coach Jorge Jesus’s decision is, to put it mildly, unconventional. While the BBC wire reports it as fact, the underlying question for any economist, even one whose primary beat is the somewhat less glamorous world of output gaps and fiscal multipliers, is: what exactly is the expected return on this investment?
One cannot help but draw a parallel between this audacious selection and certain policy decisions in the macroeconomic sphere. The faith placed in a single, albeit historically potent, individual, mirrors the unwavering belief some hold in supply-side policies — that a star, or a singular tax cut for the wealthy, will magically trickle down and ignite a sluggish economy. From a demand-side perspective, however, the questions multiply. Is this a shrewd, if short-term, attempt to inject a jolt of national morale, a sort of psychological stimulus package to galvanize the fan base and, by extension, the broader economic sentiment? Or is it a desperate gamble, sacrificing structural reform for the fading glow of past glory?
Consider the counterfactual: what if the Portuguese federation had chosen to invest in younger talent? What if, instead of relying on the diminishing marginal returns of a legendary but aging player, they had focused on developing a pipeline of new, dynamic footballers, ensuring long-term competitiveness and a sustainable future for the national team? This is akin to the debate between immediate, perhaps politically expedient, fiscal stimulus measures versus long-term investments in education, infrastructure, or green technologies that yield returns over decades. Both have their place, but the emphasis reveals a deeper philosophy.
The Keynesian impulse, which informs much of my analytical framework, would immediately look at the aggregate picture. Does Ronaldo’s inclusion genuinely elevate the overall capacity of the team, or does it merely displace a potentially more energetic, if less celebrated, player? In macroeconomic terms, is this a net addition to aggregate demand, or simply a reallocation of existing resources, potentially at a less efficient frontier? The evidence of a 41-year-old’s ability to consistently perform at the elite international level is, to be generous, scarce. His historical output was undeniably prodigious, yet even the most formidable engines eventually require more fuel for less propulsion.
Perhaps Coach Jesus is operating under the belief that Ronaldo’s sheer presence will inspire his teammates and intimidate opponents, a non-pecuniary externality that transcends mere physical prowess. This is not dissimilar to the argument that “confidence” alone can drive investment and consumption. While confidence certainly plays a role, particularly in fragile economies, relying solely on it, without underlying structural support or genuine increases in purchasing power, often proves to be a fool's errand. A truly effective stimulus needs more than a figurehead; it needs robust, broad-based investment.
The risk, of course, is that this decision could backfire spectacularly, undermining the team’s performance and, by extension, the coach’s credibility. If Ronaldo fails to deliver, or worse, becomes a liability, the opportunity cost of not having nurtured a younger, hungrier player will be starkly apparent. This mirrors the dangers of ill-conceived fiscal policies: a large, poorly targeted spending program can inflate debt without generating commensurate economic growth, leaving future generations to bear the burden.
Ultimately, the market will judge. For Portugal, the upcoming Nations League games will serve as the ultimate empirical test of this unconventional decision. For macroeconomists, it serves as a potent reminder that while individual stars can shine brightly, sustainable growth, whether on the pitch or in the economy, usually requires a more comprehensive and forward-looking strategy, one that invests in future capacity rather than relying on the fading echoes of past glories. The allure of the familiar, however, can be a powerful, if sometimes misleading, force.