Ranch Dressing and the Unexpected Rise of America’s Soft Power

When the World Cup kicked off, most headlines were about goals, star players and ticket prices. Yet a surprisingly large number of visitors left the stadiums with a different souvenir in mind: ranch dressing. The creamy, tangy sauce, a staple of diners and fast‑food joints across the United States, suddenly appeared on social‑media feeds from Tokyo to Lagos, sparking jokes and, oddly enough, genuine curiosity.

That buzz is more than a funny footnote. It illustrates a form of influence that works outside the polished rooms of embassies—soft power that arrives on supermarket shelves, in late‑night diners, and in casual conversations with strangers. Ranch dressing is quintessentially American: inexpensive, widely available, and requiring no glossy ad campaign. When a tourist asks, “Why can’t we get this back home?” the question itself becomes a subtle invitation to learn more about the country that invented it.

Traditional U.S. diplomacy, by contrast, still leans heavily on treaties, multilateral institutions and high‑level negotiations that can stretch for months. Pew research recently found that only about a third of adults in 36 major nations hold a favorable view of the United States. Yet those numbers tend to rise when people experience the country directly—through food, music, or a friendly chat—rather than through filtered news or official statements.

What the World Cup highlighted is a simple truth: today’s global power isn’t built solely on government contracts or military might. Supply chains, tech platforms, universities and even sports leagues shape perceptions and create lasting networks. To stay ahead, America needs to treat its private sector and civil society not as footnotes to foreign policy, but as co‑authors.

There are already models that show how this can work. Since 1940, the State Department’s Bureau of Educational and Cultural Affairs has run programs that bring emerging leaders to the U.S. and send Americans abroad. The International Visitor Leadership Program, for example, has hosted tens of thousands of participants, more than 500 of whom later became heads of state or senior officials. A recent Jamaican delegate toured Arrowhead Stadium, met with Washington Commanders executives, and returned with ideas for public‑private stadium partnerships ahead of Jamaica’s co‑hosting of the 2031 Women’s World Cup. That lived experience does more to humanize America than any brochure.

What’s missing, however, is a systematic elevation of trade missions, two‑way investment, student exchanges and digital learning partnerships to the status of core diplomatic tools. American firms should view these engagements as strategic investments—ways to build trust, open markets and reinforce competitiveness.

Achieving that vision also requires a modern regulatory framework. Outdated rules still discourage small businesses, universities and city governments from participating in overseas exchanges. During my tenure at the Overseas Private Investment Corporation, we spent years untangling a decades‑old statute that capped equity investments. The 2018 BUILD Act finally gave the new Development Finance Corporation the teeth it needed to fund infrastructure projects that double as soft‑power bridges—an American counter‑balance to China’s Belt and Road.

Washington can—and should—remove the remaining barriers that keep civic and corporate leaders from engaging abroad. Success should be measured not just by the number of treaties signed, but by the depth of the people‑to‑people networks we cultivate. If a simple bottle of ranch can make a tourist smile and ask for a taste, imagine the diplomatic capital we could generate by intentionally linking more Americans to the world’s classrooms, labs, stadiums and kitchens.

In an era of accelerating geopolitical competition, the lesson from the World Cup is crystal clear: the most authentic ambassadors are often found at the lunch table, not in the briefing room. By embracing that reality, the United States can turn everyday culture—ranch dressing included—into a powerful, enduring form of diplomacy.