For a brief period, it worked. However, the programme’s fatal flaw was its lack of enforceable consequence and its reliance on the goodwill of autonomous boards. When the Board of Control for Cricket in India (BCCI) realized its market dominance—generating over 70% of global cricket revenue—the FTP ceased to be a contract and became a suggestion. The most glaring indictment of the FTP is its open bias toward the so-called "Big Three." In the 2014-2023 cycle, India played 61 Test matches; Bangladesh, a Full Member with a passionate fanbase, played just 41. More tellingly, of the 173 bilateral series scheduled between 2018 and 2023, nearly 40% involved India, England, or Australia. This is not scheduling; it is hoarding.
Second, a promotion-relegation system for Test cricket must be embedded into the FTP. The bottom two Full Members should play a play-off series against the top two associates every two years, with the winners earning a two-year slot in a streamlined, mandatory Test calendar. This would inject jeopardy and opportunity.
Finally, the ICC must mandate that each Full Member play at least one bilateral series (minimum two ODIs or one Test) per year against an associate nation, with the associate retaining 75% of the broadcast revenue. This is not charity; it is investment in the sport’s long-term health. The ICC Future Tours Programme is a paradox: a document born from a desire for order that has become a tool of oligarchy. It has successfully eliminated the chaos of the 1990s, only to replace it with the sterility of a closed shop. By enshrining the commercial dominance of the Big Three, devaluing Test cricket through scheduling fragmentation, and excluding associates from meaningful competition, the FTP has turned international cricket from a global sport into a luxury brand for three nations. Until the schedule serves sporting merit rather than television rights, the future of the "Future Tours Programme" will remain one of managed decline—a spreadsheet perfectly calibrated to protect the powerful, while the game withers at the edges.
Furthermore, the FTP’s relentless expansion of the T20 window—driven by the proliferation of franchise leagues (IPL, BBL, The Hundred, SA20)—has cannibalized the Test calendar. In the 2023-2027 cycle, the ICC has allocated 44% of the calendar to T20 cricket, up from 32% a decade ago. For nations like the West Indies and Sri Lanka, the FTP effectively forces their best players to choose between lucrative league contracts (which fall in the FTP’s "windows") and representing their country in Tests. The result is a two-tier system: a vibrant, moneyed T20 circus and a decaying, under-attended Test arena for all but three nations. If the FTP is harsh on Full Members outside the elite, it is genocidal toward associate nations. The programme’s structure is one of "trickle-down" scheduling—the false hope that if Nepal, the UAE, or Scotland perform well in ICC tournaments, they will earn bilateral fixtures against Full Members. This rarely happens.
Similarly, the WTC’s points system is so convoluted (equal points for a two-Test series as a five-Test series) that it distorts strategy. Teams deliberately schedule short series against lower-ranked opponents to maximize points per match. The FTP thus incentivizes cowardice over ambition. Why play a five-Test series in India when you can play two and preserve your ranking? To salvage the FTP, the ICC must abandon its role as a passive scheduler and embrace that of an active regulator. Three reforms are necessary. First, the programme must become a binding contract, not a guideline. Any board that cancels a bilateral series without extraordinary cause should face severe financial penalties and the loss of voting rights.