European Athletics' £3m prize fund in 2028: The money arms race and a question for developing athletics nations

The eighth-place finisher in the 10,000 meters at the 2028 European Athletics Championships will receive 1,000 euros. The ninth-place finisher, perhaps less than a second behind, will go home empty-handed. That financial dividing line cuts across the track as sharply as a blade. I have followed athletics from empty stands and commentary booths where my voice was questioned for more than a decade. No announcement has made me pause as long as the one from European Athletics about the prize fund for the 2028 European Championships in Silesia, Poland. The £3 million, roughly €3.5 million, is being called a "record" for the event. But the number matters less than the structure beneath it. The European Athletics Championships sits in the second tier of the athletics system, below the Olympics and the World Championships. It is held every two years, bringing together athletes from Europe's member federations. Before 2028, the prize model was completely different: rather than paying according to finishing position, it paid according to how impressive the performance was. The old model was based on World Athletics scoring tables. Ten prize slots of €50,000 each were divided equally between five male and five female athletes with the highest-ranked performances by score. The award was called the "Gold Crown." That meant an athlete did not need to win a medal to be rewarded; they just needed to produce a performance that exceeded the scoring threshold. Conversely, a champion who crossed the line first but did not reach the qualifying points received nothing. The 2026 Birmingham edition showed how unforgiving that model was. Great Britain and Northern Ireland won 19 medals, nine of them gold — a dominant performance. But none of those gold medals touched the €50,000 "Gold Crown" threshold. That reveals a core fact: the old model did not reward winners; it rewarded those who broke every standard. The new 2028 model is simpler, almost administrative. The top eight in every event — all 50 events, including track, field, combined and road — will be paid by position. The champion gets €30,000, the runner-up €15,000, third place €10,000, then €5,000, €4,000, €3,000, €2,000 and €1,000 for eighth. That is €70,000 per event, multiplied by 50, producing €3.5 million — around £3 million as the release said. That calculation is significant because it reveals a philosophical change. The old prize fund was a gamble: it depended on whether anyone would break the scoring tables. The new fund is a fixed cost, known in advance. From a governance perspective, this transforms a lottery into a payroll. And once a payment becomes predictable, it can be treated as an investment. The next question is who benefits from that investment. A prize model based on finishing positions across all 50 events does not serve individual superstars; it serves teams with depth. A nation with 30 athletes capable of reaching top-eight finishes in various events will take home far more than a nation with one world-beater and no one else in a final. Under the old model, a small nation could grab €50,000 through a surprise record. Under the new one, the money is spread evenly according to how many athletes progress deep into the competition. Stars are not born in finals; they are born in matches no one watches. That explains why the new fund was introduced right after mentioning the results of Great Britain and Northern Ireland. This team won 19 medals at Birmingham — proof of depth, not just height. Under the 2028 model, such a team will be rewarded far more generously. Poland, the host nation, also belongs in the winner's circle: a large squad, competing on home soil, with many athletes capable of reaching the top eight. But the story is not confined to Europe. The European Athletics announcement arrives under pressure. World Athletics has unveiled a new event called the Ultimate Championship, set for Budapest over three days, with a prize fund of $10 million, or about £7.4 million. They describe it as the "richest prize pot in the history of the sport." That development puts the European Championships in a reactive position. A three-day event paying $10 million, while a biennial continental championship offers €3.5 million, is a striking gap. The £3 million European fund, therefore, is not only an act of generosity; it is a defensive signal in a prize-money arms race between sports governing bodies. I have witnessed these arms races in other sports. When one organization raises its prize money, the others must follow or risk losing their stars. European athletics has reason to worry: elite athletes always seek the highest-paying stage. If World Athletics builds a three-day event paying $10 million, while the continental championship pays less than half, Europe's best performers will be pulled toward Budapest. Silesia needed an answer. Still, I cannot look at the £3 million and see only a winner in that race. I see a luxury that most athletics nations cannot afford. In places no one notices, I remember regional Southeast Asian meets where the eighth-place finisher could not even claim back their accommodation costs. They run for honour, for thin sponsorship deals, for a distant scholarship. A prize fund spread evenly across the top eight, like Europe's, sounds like a dream to them. That is why I won't celebrate too quickly. The biggest story here is not how much Europe pays, but how the structure of their prize money has shifted the way a sporting body thinks about depth. And if Europe is moving this way, why can't younger athletics nations follow? First, look at the real numbers. The €3.5 million fund is split as follows: €30,000 for first, €15,000 for second, €10,000 for third, €5,000 for fourth, €4,000 for fifth, €3,000 for sixth, €2,000 for seventh and €1,000 for eighth. Each event has a total purse of €70,000. Across 50 events, the fund reaches €3.5 million. This is a rational design on paper, but it also reflects a clear policy choice: reward the number of athletes who reach the latter stages, not a single spike in performance. Under the old model, an athlete breaking a European record in a less-watched event could still earn €50,000. Under the new model, that same athlete, even if breaking a world record, receives only €5,000 when finishing fourth. This could leave some potential champions feeling undermined. But European Athletics is betting that the majority — athletes who regularly reach finals but rarely win medals — will view this as a fairer recognition. And that bet is probably right. When I watch recordings of all 50 events from a European Championships, I cannot name the eighth-place finishers. They are anonymous people, silent warriors of a brutal selection machine. But they are the foundation of national depth. A nation with one star is fragile. A nation with twenty athletes in the top eight of various events is a nation that can survive for generations. With no crowd roaring, I hear the sound of my own clapping more clearly. This philosophical shift also raises a series of questions for World Athletics. When the European Championships start paying by position, will the Olympics and World Championships follow? The two biggest events in the sport have so far paid almost no prize money beyond the symbolic value of a medal. But if lower-tier events begin paying millions of euros, the pressure on the Olympics will become hard to resist. History shows that once prize money becomes the norm at one level, it spreads to others. But one point needs to be stressed: more prize money does not mean a higher level of performance. A record fund only says the organizers have money and want to spend it; it says nothing about athletes running faster, jumping higher or throwing further. This is a perception trap fans easily fall into when reading headlines about large figures. I have watched a tournament triple its prize fund while the quality of competition stayed flat, because selection systems and training conditions did not change. It is also worth facing an uncomfortable truth: €3.5 million looks large from outside, but divided among roughly 400 recipients, most of the individual sums are small. €1,000 for eighth place will not pay a professional athlete's rent for a year in any European capital. It is a symbolic recognition. That in itself is fine, but it shows that a "record prize fund" is a promotional story, not a policy that changes most athletes' lives. And at the bottom of the ladder, the ninth-place finisher — one thousandth of a second behind the eighth — goes home with nothing. No consolation, no compensation for years of training. In a sport where so many races are decided by a single lean at the finish, the border between being paid and not being paid is an awkward question of fairness. Will the ninth-place athlete spend the rest of their life wishing they had gone for one more stride? Will they change their training strategy to play safe rather than risk a winning surge? There are no simple answers. From another angle, the placing-based model has one more blind spot: the source of the money. European Athletics has not disclosed whether the €3.5 million comes from sponsors, broadcasting revenue, or the federation's own budget. If it comes from a one-off sponsor, it might disappear at the next edition. If it depends on broadcast income, it relies on whether the event truly attracts audiences. A prize policy built on fragile media economics is a fragile policy. I remember being invited to commentate on a youth meet in northern Vietnam. The athletes ran a 5,000-meter race on a hot and humid morning, in front of an almost empty stand. After the race, the third-place finisher, a 19-year-old girl, asked me if I knew who was recruiting for the national team. She didn't ask about prize money. She asked about opportunity. For her, a national team spot was worth more than a small cash prize. But for a European athlete deciding between staying at a continental championship or moving to a higher-paying event, money becomes the common language. Whether the stadium is full or empty no longer determines the choice. In the modern sports economy, prize funds are a measure of respect. European Athletics understood this just in time. Now, the question for us in Southeast Asia is different: are young athletics nations ready to think in a similar way, not at the scale of €3.5 million, but at a scale that fits their budgets — paying the top eight in every event of a national championship? If a national federation has a limited fund, instead of pouring it into three gold medals, they could divide it into twenty top-eight slots across separate events. That would send a powerful message: not only champions are valuable; the whole system needs strength in depth. This may not sound glamorous, but it is far more real than simply rewarding a few individuals. I have seen how successful sporting nations keep feeding their depth; they pay each rung of the ladder, not just the summit. In contrast, nations that pamper only the champion often experience a boom and bust within a few years. When the second or fourth place is unrecognized, they walk away and take their potential with them. The £3 million European fund, therefore, is more than a number. It is a statement: in modern athletics, depth is golden. And it raises a progressive question for all of us — sports journalists, administrators and fans alike — whether we are brave enough to change how we measure an athlete's value. Can we stop worshipping only the winner and begin seeing the worth of the eighth-place finisher, who trained for fifteen years to stand at the start line and accepts a sum enough to cover utility bills and a new pair of shoes? If Europe is moving this way, younger athletics nations missing the beat might ask themselves: what would happen if we started not only dreaming of medals, but building a system that pays the journey itself — every stride, every finish, every position — so that no one leaves empty-handed after giving their youth to the track?