Kogan's 'absolute power' claim — and the map of English football nobody is reading

Manchester, October. In a podcast studio, David Kogan — chair of the Independent Football Regulator (IFR) — said something English media instantly turned into a headline: his body holds "absolute power" to force a club owner to sell. He was speaking on The Rest Is Football alongside Gary Lineker and Alastair Campbell, calm, as though describing the obvious.

It sounds simple. But in the same conversation Kogan admitted three limits no headline reported: his body cannot fine clubs, cannot deduct points, and cannot block a takeover backed by state money. The "absolute power" is not absolute in the way most people imagine. It is absolute within a narrow corridor: human conduct, not the origin of capital.

And this is where I stop. The ball does not roll by the calculations of rule-makers. It rolls by the fear of those the rules touch — and the biggest fear right now is not at Manchester City. It sits in a line almost nobody quotes: billions of pounds of inter-club transfer debt, rising frighteningly.

To understand why, place the IFR correctly. It was established in July 2026, the first independent regulator in English football history. Its remit covers financial sustainability, owner and director fitness, and protecting club heritage from takeover. Kogan, a veteran media-rights negotiator, was appointed chair.

In October 2026, when he appeared on the podcast, the body was about three months old. No precedent. No enforcement order. Its entire credibility rests on statements, not verified action.

Alongside sits Manchester City, appealing a verdict on 114 alleged Premier League financial-rule breaches. This is the only hard data point in the story, and crucially it is contested — not final. Kogan says the IFR will wait for the appeal before deciding whether to open a separate investigation, calling early action a "colossal mistake".

Then the league-wide finances. The Premier League is discussing more than doubling solidarity payments to the EFL. In that proposal, parachute payments to relegated clubs would be cut, while Championship funding rises substantially. On outflows, Kogan cites two points: agent fees above £500m a year — "ridiculous" — and inter-club transfer debt at "billions" and "rising dramatically".

Four parts of one picture. How they fit is what matters.

First, and most misunderstood: the IFR does not act as a sports court. It polices human fitness. Kogan says this repeatedly — it judges individuals, not clubs; it cannot fine, deduct points, or strip titles. Its "absolute power" exists only at owner and director level: where a person fails the "fit, fair, done with propriety" test, the body can ask them to step away.

What the press calls "absolute power" is a power strictly limited by its own structure — it reaches people, not money.

The "fit, fair, done with propriety" standard is the heart of the system. It is broad enough to cover almost any scenario, and vague enough to be challenged for lack of definition. A standard that is both weapon and weakness — depending on who holds it in court.

The strategic consequence is rarely noticed: the IFR and the Premier League do not compete; they split two tiers of responsibility. The league handles clubs and points. The IFR handles individuals and fitness. Kogan frames this as complementary, not competitive — generous-sounding, but in practice a self-limitation to avoid direct collision with the league, and a way to survive.

Second: Kogan's deferral on Manchester City. He does not say "we will not investigate". He says "we will wait". The difference is large. Opening an investigation before the appeal resolves could invite a prejudice challenge and damage his own case. Waiting is not weakness; it is the only way to keep a young power intact for when it is actually used.

Third, and most important to me: the limit on state capital. Kogan concedes the law does not let his body block a takeover merely because the money comes from a state fund. He cites Norway's sovereign fund — a neutral example, chosen deliberately to make the legal point without naming a charged owner. The IFR polices conduct, not capital origin. Technically a limit; politically a gap.

Fourth leads to the real danger: the "billions" of inter-club transfer debt. Think of it as cross-debt. Club A owes B for instalments; B owes C; C owes A. The total runs into billions and is rising. If a mid-tier club defaults, not only does it fall — its counterparty loses a receivable and its own PSR position deteriorates. A chain reaction the club-level regulator may not be designed to catch.

Kogan gives that detail two sentences. Two sentences, while hundreds of words go to "absolute power". Watching English football for nearly a decade, I have learned one thing: the loudest things are rarely the most dangerous. The most dangerous are said quietly, then skimmed past.

As an economics student in Liverpool, I learned to read club accounts like a league table — and that a balance sheet often tells a different story from the scoreline.

On the parachute cut: this is the most underrated part of the proposal. Parachute payments are the main mechanism letting relegated clubs keep squad and wage bill, giving a structural edge over the rest of the Championship. Cutting them while raising general Championship funding is a compression mechanism — narrowing the financial cliff between relegated clubs and second-tier rivals. Kogan calls it "narrowing the gap" and "making the Championship more competitive". It also hits the economic model of yo-yo clubs, the biggest winners of the current system. This will be the flashpoint.

On the £500m agent fees, Kogan uses them as a legitimacy lever. He says he would "much prefer to see the money spent on players". That frames agents as value extractors and makes regulatory intervention something fans should back. But the IFR's remit, by Kogan's own account, does not cover agent regulation. This is narrative-building, not policy.

Now the part where I might be wrong.

Most people read this as a fan victory: finally a body strong enough to remove bad owners. That reading is emotionally right but misses a structural fact: the IFR has never issued an enforcement order. It is three months old. Its credibility is built on promises, not precedent. A body declaring "absolute power" before proving it is a body betting its credibility on a case that has not happened.

They call Kogan a hero. I see a man holding a map nobody has read — a map that may draw both his power and its limits.

There is another possibility sceptics rarely consider: Kogan's delay may signal weakness, not wisdom. If the body were truly strong, why wait? The reasonable answer is that it is not strong enough to survive an early legal defeat. But the answer could also be that it lacks the institutional capacity to do anything but wait.

I am not sure. And that is the point I want to keep: a young regulator, early on, is usually overrated for what it says and underrated for what it has not yet done. The most hated man is only the one who dares stand before the mirror everyone avoids — but here the man before the mirror is an official, and the mirror may reflect powerlessness rather than power.

For those who say the IFR is too strong: they are right to worry that an unelected body could interfere with private ownership. A forced-sale order has never been tested. The first use will define the body's real power — and may define its limits, if a court finds "absolute" is a word not in the statute.

So what happens next, verifiably?

I predict the IFR will not touch Manchester City until the appeal ends — and when it does, the first sanction will target an individual, not a club. I predict the parachute cut will be the flashpoint of the PL–EFL negotiation, because it hits the economic model of yo-yo clubs directly. And I predict the billions in transfer debt will keep rising with no mechanism in Kogan's remarks touching it.

Empty stadium, noise dead, and something thought dead breeding again — in 2026, when the Premier League stopped, I learned football does not die without a crowd. It only exposes its real frame. Now, as a new regulator declares power, that frame shows again: rule-makers can remove an owner, but they cannot erase a debt. Until someone finds a way to handle that debt, "absolute power" remains a good line on a podcast.