Last weekend, the Arsenal defender Myles Lewis-Skelly committed a foul and the football world erupted. Felling Wolves player Matt Doherty with what seemed to be a textbook professional foul, Lewis-Skelly was surprisingly shown a straight red card by referee Michael Oliver. Outrage spread like wildfire across social media, all the way up to the heady heights of the Match of the Day studio, and condemnation was universal: for what it’s worth, this humble Arsenal fan also believes it was a dreadful decision. Predictably enough, the discourse didn’t end there, and the past week has been awash with allegations of corruption and foul play—police were even dispatched to Oliver’s home due to death threats that he received on social media. 

As ever, the football world managed to remain calm and level-headed when a moment of controversy arrived. I must confess that I thrill at the relentless drama train that the Premier League has become, and will happily lap up Roy Keane’s ruthless assassination of some poor teenager’s defending every weekend. Yet when it comes to referees, a line has been crossed and it is clear that people need to take a step back. 

Referee abuse is no novelty. It is a naturally demeaning position; the representative of the law who ruins the fun for everyone else, and contempt for them pervades every level of the game. At the grassroots level, nearly 1500 cases of abuse were reported in the 2022-23 season including, remarkably, 72 cases of “actual or attempted assault”. While it seems unlikely that many grow up dreaming of donning the referee’s black and white stripes, people might just be taking their disdain for the official a little too seriously. 

This has now reached a tipping point thanks to the culture created around the game. Refereeing standards are undoubtedly higher than in previous generations, yet especially with the increased scrutiny engendered by VAR, every small mistake is greeted with vicious accusations and howls of disbelief. In fairness, most ‘professional’ pundits have largely steered clear of this, condemning the abuse Oliver has received. Yet some couldn’t resist twisting the knife: Micah Richards proclaimed it “the worst decision I’ve ever seen in Premier League history.” This from a man whose other visionary insights include stating “I love Brest.” 

The issue lies not here, but with the status that we bestow on figures from social media within such conversations. Unsurprisingly most of the abuse can be traced to Youtube or X (formerly known as Twitter)—sites where anyone can join the melee without fear of condemnation, and often with the comfort of anonymity. This has been the case for a long time, but recent years have seen a blurring of the barrier between ‘serious’ and casual footballing debate. Youtubers like Mark Goldbridge and Arsenal Fan TV have garnered millions of followers through entertaining and provocative debate from the casual fan’s perspective. Again, there is no problem with this in and of itself, and it would seem hyperbolic to pay so much attention to the ramblings of random people on X. Unfortunately, however, we live in a world where figures such as Goldbridge are invited onto Sky Sports to discuss football with ex-professionals like Richards, thus giving them credentials as authoritative voices within the sport. 

This is why these figures ‘crying wolf’ and insisting that corruption is afoot are so dangerous. Conspiring with cheating referees is not unprecedented in football: Belgian side Anderlecht were banned from European Competition in 1997 after their club president was found to have bribed an official over one million francs; Nigerien referee Ibrahim Chaibou was banished from the game in 2019 after it was found he had fixed dozens of games. Yet, to assert that the entire refereeing association, PGMOL, is a corrupt cabal influencing matches simply because of some pathological hatred for Arsenal is absurd. Referees are not above criticism and perhaps a review of the system could be encouraged; for example, the idea that PGMOL is a ‘boys club’ where the members protect each other and are not promoted on merit deserves investigation. Nevertheless, relentless allegations of cheating are like ‘red meat’ to the masses on social media. Intense emotions are fuelled by algorithms which create a vicious circle of likes and extreme comments, leading to situations such as this, where protective custody is summoned for a referee’s family.


The utterly melodramatic discourse prevalent in the game needs to stop. Have a quick peruse of social media and one can find claims that the abuse of Oliver is justified: that he damaged the mental health of Arsenal fans with his decision; that clubs must take drastic steps, such as threatening to forfeit games, or nothing will get done. This, remember, is not the civil rights movement, it is a game of football. A little perspective is needed, or else this situation will never change, and the vicious cycle will continue. Ironically, the game will then be left in a far worse state, with the quality of referees declining as no one will want to sign themselves up for such abuse at all levels of the game. Can you blame them? Bill Shankly once said: “People think football is a matter of life and death. I assure you it’s much more serious than that.” It seems people are taking his words a little too much to heart these days.