Sky Sports faces criticism over Halo platform
Photo courtesy of Sky Sports/Wikimedia Commons
Ask any female what it is like to be a woman in sports—whether it be a player, a media professional, or a fan—and the answer is sure to be something along these lines: it is a world they love, but one where they constantly have to prove that they belong.
This past Thursday, Sky Sports launched its platform Halo, which was set to be a dedicated “little sister” platform for female fans; however, just three days after its release, it drew backlash from many female fans who believed it missed the mark. By Saturday, all operations and activities on social media stopped dead in their tracks.
Before the launch, Sky Sports’ head of social media and audience development, Andy Gill, wrote on LinkedIn, saying, “[he] couldn't be prouder and more excited about [Halo's] launch.” He is probably wondering how the tides could have turned so quickly.
When Sky Sports announced Halo, they made the promise of an “inclusive, dedicated platform for women to enjoy and explore content from all sports, while amplifying female voices and perspectives.” The idea itself was not bad; it was the execution. For example, Halo posted a video to TikTok of a women's professional soccer highlight. Instead of discussing the skill or the player herself, they followed it up with the caption “How the matcha + hot girl walk combo hits,” in pink, glowing font.
Not only is it patronizing and sexist, but it also drags women into the very stereotypes that they promised to dismantle. Even worse, when someone commented on the video, criticizing the tone that the video evoked, the official Halo account responded, saying that the critique was “ruining the vibes” of the video.
That response only added fuel to the fire. BBC Newsbeat spoke to Emily Trees, a criticizer of Halo, saying, “We’ve spent the last 50 years trying to come away from the stereotypes around women’s sport, and trying to make women’s sport seen as an entity in itself rather than just as an extension of what men can do. We deserve our own space, something that’s ours. We don’t need to be the ‘little sister’ to anyone.”
Another prominent female sports account, GirlsontheBall, which covers women’s soccer, commented on the horrible reality of Halo, saying, “[they could not] imagine this is what women sports fans want… [I] Have many thoughts which I will get to when not under a mountain of writing but all I can ask is why? The branding (one day can we please be past the pink/peach stage?!), the premise, the copy…"
As of now, all but two posts have been deleted from the Halo account. One of these includes an apology statement, reading, “Our intention for Halo was to create a space alongside our existing channel for new, young, female fans. We've listened. We didn't get it right. As a result we're stopping all activity on this account. We're learning and remain as committed as ever to creating spaces where fans feel included and inspired."
The reason that Halo failed so horribly was not just the blatant sexism and infantilization of women's sports; it was the fact that women were never asking for a curated “girls-only” space—they were asking for genuine respect and representation. Women in sports want to be seen as knowledgeable fans, skilled athletes, and influential voices, not reduced to trends and pastel colors.
A successful women's sports platform would be an equal to the mainstream media platforms that already exist. It would highlight women’s athletic achievements, provide expert analysis, and amplify women’s voices in every role, from players to journalists to fans. Halo’s failure is a reminder that creating a space for women in sports is not about marketing gimmicks—it is about authenticity, equality, and listening to the voices the platform claims to serve.