Lise Klaveness was only a few weeks into her post as president of the Norwegian Football Association last year when she decided to speak the silent parts out loud.
Klaveness rose from her place among the delegates at the annual FIFA convention in Qatar and strode resolutely to the elevated dais where officials had spent nearly an hour making mere perfunctory remarks about the men’s World Cup to be hosted in the Gulf country later that year. There was discussion of procedural matters and updates on the financial details.
Klaveness, one of the few women in charge of football, had other issues on her mind. She dealt with issues that had haunted FIFA, the governing body of the world football association, for years, talking about ethical issues, about migrant workers, about women’s and gay rights. She spoke of the responsibility of the (mostly male) officials in the hall to ensure that football adheres to a higher moral and ethical standard when choosing its leaders and the venues for its biggest competitions.
By the time Klaveness finished about five minutes later, in typical direct style, she had challenged FIFA itself.
But she had also made herself a target.
Almost as soon as she returned to her seat, a Honduran official asked to speak. He bluntly told Klaveness that the FIFA Congress was “not the right forum or the right time” to make such comments. Moments later, she was attacked by the head of the Qatar World Cup organizing committee, who told her to “educate yourself” before speaking out.
“Since that speech in Doha, so many people, and powerful people, want to tell me to calm down,” she said, describing how at several high-profile meetings where she and the Norwegian federation were obliquely and openly criticized in a way that she says is a calculated attempt to silence her.
Far from being intimidated, Klaveness, who played in the Norway national team before becoming a lawyer and judge, continued to speak up and continue to challenge football’s orthodoxy that sensitive matters should be kept behind closed doors.
“Politically it made me a little bit more visible, and maybe people want to tell me, ‘Who do you think you are?’ in different ways,” Klaveness, 42, said in an interview for the Women’s World Cup. Openly questioning human rights and good governance, she said, also had a price.
She also believes her views reflect those of her federation and her country. And she says she won’t stop pressing it. “I’m very motivated,” she said, “and the day I’m not, I’ll quit. I have nothing to lose.”
Klaveness’ style – so out of step with conservative football traditions – has been questioned even by some of her closest allies.
“It may not be the most strategic because it was very confrontational,” Gijs de Jong, the secretary general of the Dutch football association, said of Klaveness’ speech in Qatar. De Jong has worked closely with Klaveness over the past two years, and said he shares many of the same frustrations with FIFA’s track record of delivering on its commitments, particularly when it comes to human rights.
But while he acknowledged that football can afford to face some tough questions, he suggested that a more diplomatic approach gets results.
“I’ve learned over the last six, seven years that you have to stay connected,” he said. “And the risk of such a confrontational speech is that you lose connection with the rest of the world. And I think that’s the danger of this approach.”
Klaveness said other football executives had told her “not to exaggerate at least a thousand times”. They’ve encouraged her to speak with what she describes as an “inside voice,” to be more diplomatic, to work differently. But she said that’s hard “when you have 100 years of evidence that there’s no change.”
“I think she is very, very popular in Norway because she never hides and she never lies and she speaks a language that everyone can understand,” said Norway men’s team coach Stale Solbakken. “I also think football needs voices that dare to confront the men’s world that is football.”
Earlier this year, Klaveness decided to challenge the convention again by running for a seat on the governing body of UEFA, the governing body of European football, against male candidates, rather than seeking election for the single seat reserved for women. She was badly beaten, but then preferred to see the positive votes – 18 from Europe’s 55 member states – that she received.
“I see a third of UEFA presidents want change – 18 of them voted for it,” she said. There remains significant resistance from football’s top leaders to her priorities, she said, “but among them there are many people who are reaching out.”
Football remains imbued with what Klaveness described as ‘a culture of fear’, a chilling effect that deters officials from speaking out, aware that they could be banned and lose prestigious and often well-paid roles. For Klaveness, the conversation is still worth it.
For example, the plight of migrant workers in Qatar remains a concern. In March, FIFA pledged to investigate whether it had any responsibilities in overseeing football projects if its human rights statutes had been violated. European officials enlisted Klaveness and De Jong to join a FIFA committee on the matter, but now months have passed without any confirmation on how the committee will work, Klaveness said. Letters and messages for updates, she said, get a now-familiar response: “Let me get back to you.”
Klaveness rejected the idea that any of the stances she has taken make her an activist, as some have argued, or detract from her role as a football leader, something that will no doubt attract more attention as Norway’s national teams continue to struggle on the pitch.
The Norwegian men’s team, blessed by a talented generation that includes Erling Haaland and Martin Odegaard, was unable to take part in the World Cup protests in Qatar because it failed to qualify. The women’s team, featuring former World Player of the Year Ada Hegerberg, was beaten 8-0 by England in last year’s European Championship and opened the World Cup last week with a loss to New Zealand, who had never won a match in the tournament.
Rather than distracting her, Klaveness said the issues and platforms she has championed as a Norwegian federation and teams are directly related to the game, especially when it comes to questions of inclusivity.
She said she is trying to set an example, to show other football leaders that they can be more than what the world has come to expect of them, more than the sea of men in suits who usually fill hotel lounges and conference rooms when FIFA comes to town.
She has traveled to New Zealand with her wife and three young children under the age of 10 and told other officials in the Norwegian contingent that they can also bring their families.
“It’s a big deal for me and for us at the Norwegian Federation,” she said, explaining how the travel obligations inherent in leadership roles in football have made it difficult to recruit women, and made it “easy for people to say women don’t want the job.”
Klaveness, whose term as federation president ends in March 2026, knows her time is limited. She is not willing to hold down the role to stay in football, she said. But while she is there, she will continue to speak. And that continued this week.
Her current focus is the prize money at the Women’s World Cup. Prior to the tournament, FIFA announced that participating players would be guaranteed 30 percent of the $110 million prize pool on offer, with a minimum of $30,000 per player. Some national federations, including England’s, appear to be using FIFA’s offer as a cover to withhold additional bonus payments. And last week, FIFA President Gianni Infantino refused to guarantee that the money would eventually reach the players. Under FIFA rules, he said, the money will be paid to the federations, suggesting the proposed bonuses were a recommendation and not a guarantee.
“He could and should be clear that it is a mandatory payment,” Klaveness said. “Why would you ever say it’s not that simple?”