When individuals are arranged into groups, such as organizations or leagues, there is a tendency to reify the distinction between them. Distinctions are not deemed to be revisable products of human categorization, but appear to be natural and purposeful. We view distinctions as inherent and meaningful, rather than a haphazard process by which we make sense of a chaotic world. Even when a group of humans is artificially separated along arbitrary lines, such as eye colour, it does not take long for these humans to impute substantial differences between the newly formed sub-groups. Recognition that outsiders posed a threat was a crucial aid to survival for our distant ancestors. We are thus predisposed to view human classification processes as objective and meaningful, even when they are essentially random: the outsider is a threat simply because they are an outsider. But if spurious distinctions between groups can be manufactured then this provides an improved means by which to identify the threat. The in-group/out-group distinction is less vital for human survival in the present day; but the psychological benefits conferred by the security of the in-group, (and suspicion of the out-group), are clearly retained.
Our group-oriented minds thus consider football leagues of incremental standing to have a very strong correlation with the variance of individual talent contained in these leagues. The tendency to reify differences between groups means that we fail to recognize the narrowness and mutability of human classifications of different talent groupings. But do we really believe that every player in the English Premier League is better than every player in the Championship (or even League One and League Two)? Gaps between teams may be fairly substantial, as is evidenced by clubs which struggle when they are promoted to the Premier League. But a club is an emergent entity comprising a reasonably large number of players. It is very difficult to delineate a player’s distinctive contribution to a club’s success: goals could well dry up for a celebrated top-flight striker if they found themselves performing within a less high-functioning side.
The gradations in talent between leagues are also based on the subjective opinion of managers rather than any objective criteria. Do the opinions of these individuals combine to provide an infallible system for allocating talent to different leagues? Admittedly, there is circumscribed movement between the leagues with player transfers, and teams being promoted and relegated. But in viewing the Premier League as the talent pool, Fabio Capello is dependent on contingent factors such as players with potential being spotted by fallible managers, or teams obtaining promotion.
The additional problem in England is that, as a result of homespun wisdom, the manager takes on both team management and recruitment duties. The manager’s responsibility for signing players is so entrenched in England that it can, if rescinded, lead to constructive dismissal claims. On the continent, it is more common to have management and recruitment separated between a coach and technical director. Recruitment can then receive the full attention of a specialist who is unencumbered with the day-to-day management of the team. This approach might help clubs to find the best players and thus facilitate more effective talent-channels between leagues. Leagues must be a sketchy means for classifying and ranking complex abilities. But if old-fashioned methods of team management in England could be eschewed, perhaps the Premier League would provide a better approximation of the best available talent for the England coach to choose from.