Every four years, the Winter Olympics return with a blend of athletic spectacle, global politics, and national pride. But heading into Milan–Cortina 2026, something unusual is happening: enthusiasm is higher now than in the past few games, summer and winter. New MRI-Simmons data shows 54% of Americans say they’re fans of the Winter Games — a return to pre-pandemic levels of interest.
Our Time Machine starts in Calgary in 1988, Games remembered for extending the Winter Olympics to 16 days for the first time and introducing sports like curling and short-track speed skating as demonstrations. It was a period of athletic focus—bobsleigh, biathlon, figure skating, and the debut of freestyle skiing—even as the Winter Olympics continued a trend toward media spectacle that arguably began in Lake Placid 1980 when the American “Miracle on Ice” hockey team beat the Soviets.
By the early 90s pollsters noticed something else: interest wasn’t guaranteed. After Albertville 1992, the Seton Hall Sports Poll recorded a 26% drop in viewer interest and a “20-plus percent” decline in TV ratings. Even then, Americans were already showing signs of fluctuating enthusiasm long before cord-cutting or social media reshaped viewership.
Two years later, as the Winter Games shifted to a schedule offset from the Summer Games, controversy dominated — and not for the first time. Just before Lillehammer in 1994, a poll found Americans opposed Tonya Harding skating in Norway by a two-to-one margin, even as the Games themselves later became remembered as one of the most beloved ever.
Heading into Nagano in 1998, the Games reinvigorated some public interest with the introduction of snowboarding, the return of curling, and the debut of women’s ice hockey. Opening the men’s ice hockey tournament to the world’s professionals added new star power—a reminder that the Olympics have often adapted to win back audiences.
Salt Lake City in 2002 offered another twist. Before the Games, 45% of Utahans didn’t want the Olympics at all. But after the events concluded—widely celebrated as one of the most successful U.S. Games in history—public opinion flipped. The Olympics have often had a way of winning back hearts once the flame is lit.
Turin 2006 generated strong hometown feelings, with 81% of Turinese residents saying the Olympics would be “strategic for the city.” Yet nearly 20% still didn’t entirely understand what the Games would entail—a reminder that local opinion often starts with uncertainty and caution.
By Vancouver 2010, public sentiment centered on inclusion: 73% of Canadians wanted women’s ski jumping added to the Games, and when the Olympics finally arrived, 46% of newspaper editors, news directors, and editors at the major news websites across the country named it the top news story of the year in Canadian Press surveys. Even in the digital age’s early acceleration, the Games could unify national attention.
Sochi 2014 was different. A Pew poll found Americans deeply split over whether it was a “good decision” to hold the Games in Russia. Age mattered: 49% of adults 18–29 said hosting the Games there was a good idea, compared with just 24% of those 50+. Concerns over terrorism and Russia’s policies toward LGBTQ+ people dominated the reasoning among those who opposed the location. The sports were on the ice; the debates were elsewhere.
In PyeongChang 2018, geopolitics again overshadowed athletics. An Ipsos global survey found that 50% of people worldwide were worried North Korea would behave provocatively, with U.S. concern—at 58%—among the highest. That anxiety loomed large even as Korean diplomacy attempted to calm tensions, and the games came off without a geopolitical hitch.
Beijing 2022 arrived amid both diplomatic strain and public disinterest. Pew found that 91% of Americans had heard little or nothing about the U.S. diplomatic boycott, yet nearly half approved of it. Views of China were similarly icy: 54% described China as a competitor and 35% as an enemy. Perhaps the political noise helped depress pre-game excitement. Ipsos found 42% of Americans were interested in the game prior to their start — lower than interest ahead of many prior summer and winter games.
And that brings us back to now and the run-up to Milan 2026. According to MRI-Simmons, 22% of Americans say they plan to watch (remember the same survey showed 54% say they’re fans) which, in a fractured media age, may prove to be a strong outcome. It is, after all, about 55 million people!
If past Winter Games were shaped by boycotts, geopolitical tension, ratings drops, or breakthrough sports moments, perhaps Milan–Cortina will be defined by something different: all the new ways fans (and non-fans) see and interact with the Games.