The Gatekeepers Are Panicking: Rugby's turf war exposes the deficiencies of protectionism

Eight national rugby unions have threatened to ban players who join the proposed R360 League from representing their countries. In short: play our game, or don’t play at all. Their decision says a lot about power, fear, and protectionism, and not just in sport. It’s a mirror many membership organisations would do well to look into. Because whether you’re a rugby union, a trade association, or a professional institute, the instinct to control rather than evolve is a sure sign that your model is wobbling.

The fear behind the fury

Let’s call this what it is: a panic response. The unions aren’t reacting to misconduct, scandal, or threat to player welfare. They’re reacting to competition. A new league, fresh ideas, different formats, new commercial models, and they don’t like it.

So instead of asking “what can we learn?”, they’ve reached for punishment:

Join the challenger and you’ll lose your cap. Your international dream ends here.

It’s a blunt instrument designed to deter anyone from exploring alternatives. And it’s one we’ve seen before.

Whenever an incumbent faces disruption, the first instinct is rarely reflection but retaliation. It’s easier to close ranks than open minds. It’s easier to protect a position than to prove your value.

Sound familiar?

The behaviour isn’t confined to Twickenham or Eden Park. I’ve seen it countless times in membership. When a new entrant appears, such as a rival network, an innovative accreditation, a fresher voice, the old guard tightens its grip. They declare exclusivity, question credibility, and whisper warnings:

“Join them and you’ll never work with us again.”

They’ll dress it up as “standards” or “consistency,” but the underlying message is the same: We decide who gets to play.

The irony? These are the same organisations that preach collaboration, inclusion, and open dialogue. Yet when challenged, they behave like guilds from the 1800s, protecting privileges rather than advancing professions.

Protectionism by another name

What we’re witnessing is institutional insecurity. It’s what happens when mission drifts, models age, and leaders confuse ownership with stewardship.

In rugby, the unions claim they’re protecting the integrity of international sport. In truth, they’re protecting their commercial ecosystem, i.e., their sponsorship deals, broadcasting income, and test match revenue that fund their operations. It’s not about purity. It’s about profit.

I’ve seen the same thing first-hand. I remain banned from sponsoring or advertising as a "preferred supplier" through a prominent UK membership-sector network because in 2020 I had the audacity to support the development of the Institute of Association Leadership. No conflict of interest. No misconduct. Just protectionism, pure and simple.

I wasn’t shocked by the ban, disappointed, yes, but not surprised. Protectionism is usually the first reaction when collaboration feels like a threat. What struck me most was how casual the decision was. No conversation. No curiosity. Just exclusion. It’s easier to block than to engage.

That small episode revealed a wider truth about our sector. For all our talk of community, collaboration, and shared purpose, too many organisations operate on scarcity thinking, as if influence is finite, and someone else’s success somehow diminishes their own; but ideas don’t work like that. Neither does leadership.

Healthy ecosystems rely on diversity, challenge, and exchange. When we shut down dialogue or punish new entrants, we weaken the very system we claim to protect. Progress in any sector, be it sport, membership, or otherwise, depends on confidence, not control; on purpose, not protectionism.

It’s a reminder that the instinct to exclude runs deep in organisations that fear irrelevance. Whether in sport or membership, control is always the last resort of those running out of ideas.

The price of fear

The trouble is, fear-based leadership carries a heavy cost.

• Members lose trust. They see through control tactics. When you tell professionals they can’t explore, experiment, or collaborate, they’ll eventually leave.

• Innovation stalls. Fearful organisations don’t take risks. They recycle. They polish the old and call it new.

• Relevance erodes. The world moves on while incumbents cling to their rulebooks. Before long, they’re enforcing loyalty in a market that no longer cares.

The rugby unions may win the short-term battle. Players might think twice before signing with R360. But the message is clear: international rugby is less a meritocracy than a monopoly, and once talent realises that, it starts looking elsewhere.

The same is true in membership. If your value proposition relies on exclusion, it’s not a value proposition, it’s a velvet cage.

Confidence over control

There is another way. It starts with confidence.

Confident organisations don’t panic when alternatives appear. They’re curious, not combative. They ask what the competition sees that they don’t. They trust that their purpose, their people, and their value can stand up to comparison.

Confident leaders don’t need to bully loyalty. They earn it, through relevance, responsiveness, and respect.

If the rugby unions believed in the strength of their product, they’d welcome the R360 challenge. They’d study its innovations, partner where sensible, and learn where needed. If membership bodies believed in the power of their community, they’d collaborate with new entrants, not condemn them.

Control might buy compliance but confidence builds commitment.

Courage to evolve

This moment, for rugby and for membership organisations, is about courage. Courage to let go of legacy. Courage to try new models. Courage to compete on merit.

Because you cannot legislate loyalty. Not in sport. Not in membership. Not anywhere.

Players want opportunity, growth, and recognition. Members want voice, value, and belonging. Denying them options doesn’t deepen their loyalty, it just exposes your insecurity.

Imagine if, instead of banning R360 players, the unions had said:

“Let’s talk. How do we ensure both competitions strengthen the sport?”

That’s leadership. Not fear management. Not gatekeeping. Leadership.

The lesson for our sector

Every membership body faces its own version of R360:

• A new digital platform offering free CPD.

• A start-up network targeting the same audience.

• A challenger body with modern governance and agile services.

The question is how you respond. With bans, or with bridges? With protectionism, or with partnership?

Your reaction reveals your mindset: are you a steward of purpose or a warden of the past?

Because when gatekeepers panic, they show us what they’re guarding, and it’s rarely the mission. It’s their monopoly.

Final whistle

Rugby’s unions might win this skirmish, but they will lose something bigger, their credibility. They’ve shown players and fans that the game’s governors are more interested in protection than progress.

Membership bodies should take note. When challengers appear, your move matters. You can shut the gate. Or you can open the door.

Real leaders choose openness, not because it’s safe, but because it’s right.

After all, the future doesn’t belong to the biggest or the oldest. It belongs to the bravest.