Something fundamental may now have shifted at Celtic

For the first time in a long while, the football department appears to be directed by a football thinker rather than a bean counter or a paper pusher. That man is Paul Tisdale—and depending on who you ask, he is either a visionary waiting to be discovered or a theorist with an unproven model now operating inside a club with Champions League ambition.

What on earth is happening behind the curtain?

Celtic supporters have spent months trying to figure out what on earth is happening behind the curtain. The last recruitment window felt disjointed yet strangely purposeful, as if someone was following a blueprint not fully visible from the outside. Now, with a potential new manager, or is it head-coach, seemingly handpicked to fit an unusual tactical template, the impression grows stronger, Celtic may have adopted a very specific direction, one not born in the boardroom but in Tisdale’s footballing philosophy.

Tisdale does not lack clarity or confidence

Tisdale does not lack clarity or confidence. Listen to him speak—before joining Celtic, of course—and you can understand why Dermot Desmond and Peter Lawwell might be captivated.

He talks about football with the assured tone of someone who believes he has cracked a universal code, one he insists works as well at Exeter as it supposedly would in the Premier League. At Exeter, operating with almost no money, he created processes, developed players, and kept the club afloat through structure and consistency. His ideas have a coherence that appeals to certain executives, plug in the model, follow the cycles, and reap the long-term benefits.

And to be fair, there’s a version of this project where Celtic flourish because of it. After years of shifting between ideologies, Celtic could finally develop a stable identity. Recruitment could become profile-driven rather than dictated by whoever occupies the dugout. The academy—if rebuilt properly—could naturally feed the system. In theory, Celtic become smarter, modern, and sustainable. There is absolutely a world where this works.

Tisdale’s model has never been tested at anything close to Celtic’s level

But—and it’s difficult to overstate this—Tisdale’s model has never been tested at anything close to Celtic’s level. His peak managerial experience is League One. His football laboratory was Exeter City, a club surviving on cashflow, sell-on clauses, and forced frugality. That reality bears little resemblance to Celtic, where success is measured not in survival but in trebles, Champions League qualification, and outperforming domestic rivals who now themselves have embraced data and analysis.

It is one thing to refine a method in the lower leagues, it is another to impose that method on a club with £80 million in the bank, immense expectations, and supporters who will perhaps not tolerate slow-building experiments disguised as strategic clarity.

The summer window was the first sign that the model had truly arrived. Celtic signed players with specific standout attributes—pressing intensity, passing range, chance positioning—but often with glaring deficiencies elsewhere. It felt like someone selecting profiles from a database, emphasising elite metrics while overlooking suitability for this level. Then came valuation standoffs, rejecting prices early only to pay them later. That does not look like a polished algorithmic process. It looks like an approach still finding its feet.

Celtic stumbled through a window supposedly planned months in advance

Whether that’s a flaw in Tisdale’s theory, the board’s execution, or both, the result was the same – Celtic stumbled through a window supposedly planned months in advance.

The expected appointment of Wilfried Nancy is the next clue. He plays a relatively rare structure, 3-4-3 with a relational, fluid box midfield. This may not be coincidence. It suggests Celtic may not have chosen a coach and then reshaped their philosophy, they may have chosen a philosophy and sought the coach who fits it.

It is bold and modern, but also risky

It is bold and modern, but also risky. When a manager becomes a plug-in piece within a larger system, the list of future replacements shrinks. Fewer coaches share Nancy’s tactical worldview compared to Celtic’s traditional 4-3-3 lineage.

Yet the key question is this, if Celtic are following a Tisdale-inspired philosophy, why this sudden pivot away from the 4-3-3 drilled into the academy and above for nearly a decade? What changed? Who changed it? Is Tisdale formally resetting the entire club identity? Or did he identify Nancy first and shape the plan around him?

There is a crucial difference between the two. One is a planned revolution. The other is improvisation dressed as strategy.

If the pivot is Tisdale-led, then he is tearing up a decade-long alignment and rebooting the club’s tactical identity in one sweep – bold, coherent, but high-risk. If the pivot is coach-led, then Celtic are once again following the manager rather than a long-term philosophy.

Which is it? A red flag—or the first sign of relationism (the philosophical or tactical belief that existence, meaning and function are determined by relationships rather than by inherent, isolated properties) taking root within the club’s future direction? No one outside the inner circle knows, and the silence only heightens suspicion.

The idea is not without merit

Still, the idea is not without merit. Brighton and Brentford have shown that data-driven clarity can outperform wealthier clubs. And Celtic have desperately needed an identity that survives managerial turnover. If Tisdale’s model ultimately adds structure, aligns academy and recruitment, and builds squad value, it could be the best strategic shift the club has made in years.

But successful data clubs start with foundation, academy, coaching models, analytics departments—before applying those principles to the first team. Celtic seem to be starting from the middle, not the beginning.

Applying Exeter logic to Celtic

This is where caution is essential. Applying Exeter logic to Celtic without recalibrating for European aspiration, financial scale, supporter expectation, and the Scottish football landscape is risky. You cannot experiment your way through a title race, nor can you ask supporters to treat Champions League missteps as growing pains.

There is a version of Celtic’s future, and we’ll touch on this in a later article, where Tisdale’s clarity, Nancy’s system, and a fully backed long-term plan create something modern and exciting. And there is another version where Celtic become a live experiment in a model never designed for a club expected to win every week.

We are either witnessing the start of a visionary rebuild or the early chapters of a gamble disguised as innovation. The truth will reveal itself. But for now, supporters watch a project unfolding whose success or failure could define the next five years.

There is promise here—real promise

There is promise here—real promise. But there is also far more risk than the club seems willing to acknowledge. And perhaps that is the real story, Celtic are finally choosing a direction. Whether it is the right one remains the unanswered question.

If the club wants support for this project, they must communicate the vision. Not the details—just the guiding principles. But at Celtic, communication invites scrutiny and accountability, two things the club rarely embraces.

Tisdale, however, appears far more comfortable explaining ideas than the club’s culture allows. Now would be the perfect time to let him.