Joachim Klement's World Cup Predictions: A Model of Success
Paul the Octopus needed only a tank, a flag and a lump of food to become a World Cup celebrity. Joachim Klement needed data, code and a sense of mischief – and he has quietly outdone the famous cephalopod.
The German economist, now based in the UK, has built a forecasting model that has correctly called every World Cup winner since 2014. Germany, France, Argentina – three tournaments, three champions, three ticks in the box. For 2026, his numbers point to the Netherlands. If the Dutch lift the trophy in July, Klement’s run stretches to four out of four.
That’s not all his spreadsheet sees. It traces the entire 48-team maze: a shock Japan win over Brazil in the second round, Scotland stalling in the group stage, England marching as far as the semi-finals before Portugal shove them out of the way, just as they did in 2006. The model doesn’t dare script another penalty drama, but the echo is deliberate enough.
Klement insists this was never meant to be a gambler’s roadmap or a comfort blanket for anxious fans. He describes himself as a “pessimist”, not a prophet, and the original idea was almost a joke at his own profession’s expense.
“This started as an exercise in showing the world a hubris of economists who think they can forecast stuff that they actually have no clue about,” he says. “And now it's become an exercise in how, if you're lucky often enough, people will think you're a guru.”
The “guru” label arrived by accident. In 2014, his home nation Germany won in Brazil, neatly matching his first big call. He expected the sequel to expose the illusion. Run it again in 2018, he thought, and the model would fall over. It didn’t. It landed on France. Four years later, it pointed to Argentina. Three World Cups, three different continents, the same outcome: Klement right, the sceptic trapped by his own success.
“Because I was right three times in a row, people now think that this model is unbeatable and that I obviously will have to be right as well next time,” he says.
There is, of course, method behind the magic. World Cup glory does lean on “systemic” forces that can be measured: population size, national wealth, climate, FIFA rankings. Big countries with deep talent pools, rich federations with elite infrastructure, teams used to certain conditions – all of that nudges the probabilities.
But Klement refuses to dress this up as destiny. He tells readers of his now eagerly awaited, every-four-years forecast to treat it lightly. Those structural numbers, he argues, can only ever carry you halfway.
“The other 50% is luck,” he says. When top sides collide, when the margins shrink to inches and split seconds, the algorithm gives way to chaos. Form on the day. A referee’s decision. A shot that hits the post instead of the net. A deflection that spins the wrong way. The kind of details that define careers and haunt nations, and that no model can see coming.
“Things like that are completely unpredictable.”
For Klement, who works as a strategist at investment bank Panmure Liberum, the World Cup project has become a welcome escape from a darker news cycle. Wars, crises, market shocks – his day job is steeped in them. Running the numbers for a football tournament is, by comparison, a rare indulgence.
“In particular in 2026, when there are so many crises, wars and things going on, it is something that makes me feel good and hopefully the readers feel good and gives them a little bit of a distraction from all the kind of bad stuff that is going on in the world.”
Yet every correct prediction adds pressure. What began as a playful critique of economic overconfidence now follows him down office corridors. Colleagues want to know how the model reacts to the latest injury news, how it processes setbacks like Dutch and Tottenham midfielder Xavi Simons suffering an ACL injury. Can an equation feel the loss of a playmaker?
The questions keep coming. So do the bets.
“I've got several colleagues who bet some money on the Netherlands in response to me publishing that note,” he admits.
If the Dutch stumble early and Klement’s perfect record finally shatters, the response at work will be swift and merciless. He is already planning his damage limitation.
“If the Netherlands get eliminated from the World Cup, I think the next day I have to work from home.”
For now, though, the model stands unbeaten, the oracle’s mantle resting not on a tentacled mascot in a tank, but on an economist with a laptop – and a nagging hope that this time, at last, the numbers might be wrong.


