WHEN it comes to long, rancorous and pointless rows, few things are in the same league as the world's favourite sport. (Note to American readers: we speak of the game you call soccer.) Arguments rage for days—decades—after the final whistle. Was the ball over the goal-line? (Note to German readers: maybe not at Wembley in 1966, yes in Bloemfontein in 2010.) Was that sending-off deserved, or a gross miscarriage of justice? Was the referee brilliant, blind or bribed?

Off the field, it's the same. Five months ago 22 members of FIFA's executive committee voted to stage the 2018 World Cup in Russia and the 2022 tournament in Qatar. People in England, which had hoped to be host in 2018, are still crying “Fix”.

And not just on the terraces. This week Lord Triesman, an establishment figure who chaired the English bid until he was recorded making allegations about rival bidders' propriety, gave his version to MPs. He said that the behaviour of four committee members had been “below what would be ethically acceptable”. One allegedly asked for millions of pounds, channelled through himself, for an educational establishment in his home country and giant screens on which earthquake-stricken Haitians could watch the World Cup; the second wanted a knighthood; the third told the English “to come and tell me what you have got for me”; the fourth wanted television rights for a match between his country and England. The MPs also published an (unproven) allegation unearthed by the Sunday Times, a British newspaper, that Qatar had paid two other members large sums for votes. The accused all deny wrongdoing. Sepp Blatter, FIFA's president, whose long reign has seldom been short of controversy, says he'll look into it all.

Granted, the English are suffering from a bad case of sour grapes. By any standards, they made a mess of their bid, their football establishment is a disaster and their footballers now dive almost as often as continental ones, though sadly without the theatrical grace. But the world badly needs a more open way of choosing the host of the World Cup.

Already suggestions are coming forward. One is to make votes open rather than secret. Another is to give FIFA's 208 national associations a vote each—as they will have in a few weeks when Mohamed Bin Hammam (of Qatar, would you believe) challenges Mr Blatter for his job. The Economist has another idea. Auction the thing. And do it publicly.

The far corner

An auction would do two things. First, by making sure all the moolah went to FIFA, it would place committee members (with no votes to sell) above suspicion. Second, it would force bidders to work out how much the competition was worth to them. At least in democracies, that might not be very much, judging by past World Cups.

If oligarchs, sheikhs and other rich fans still want to pay for a party, fine. And if governments wanted to take bread from their people to pay for a football circus, they would at least have to admit how much. As for the location of the auction, where better than eBay, the leading online seller of second-hand goods? Fans around the world could watch agog as the deadline neared and bids rose. Better still, FIFA could flog the rights for reality TV.

Spoilsports will come up with all sorts of objections. Mightn't this be a tad undignified? Perhaps, but football lost its dignity long ago. Wouldn't an auction discriminate against poorer countries? Yes, but that is easily fixed by continuing to rotate the competition by continent (so Africa still has its turn). And wouldn't all the treasure going to FIFA provide scope for corruption as it is disbursed? Once again, transparency is the answer. Publish online all the details of where every penny is spent. It is a little like goal-line technology, Mr Blatter. We know that an honest, eagle-eyed referee like you would never need it, but just in case…