The moth on Courtney Lawes’ neck isn’t just ink. It’s a quiet emblem of the resilience that carried him from a working-class upbringing in Clapton to the captaincy of England’s rugby team, through the punishing trenches of international competition and into a career that now spans more than a decade at the highest level. The same moth is etched on his custom-made boots, a personal mark just above the scuffed leather where cleats meet grass. It’s a subtle rebellion against the idea that toughness has to announce itself, a quiet counterpoint to the hard-man image that often clings to second-row forwards. Lawes has never needed to shout. He’s let his game do the talking, and for years it spoke loudly enough. But now, as England stand on the edge of another World Cup cycle, Lawes is speaking up. Not with a bat or a boot, but with words that cut through the comfort of modern professionalism.

“The players coming through now,” he says, leaning back in his chair, fingers tracing the rim of his coffee cup, “have never experienced the adversity I did. A lot of them need a kick up the backside.” It’s a line that could sound like grumpy old-man territory, the kind of thing you’d expect from a veteran rolling his eyes at the next generation. But it isn’t. It’s a diagnosis. A wake-up call. And it’s coming from a man who knows exactly what it means to be hungry when the lights are on and the world is watching. Lawes isn’t just talking about skill. He’s talking about hunger. About the kind of fire that burns when you’ve had to claw your way up from nothing, when every inch of progress was earned in the rain, against better-funded academies, in a sport where the pathways weren’t always clear. He’s talking about a generation of players who have grown up in a professional environment so polished, so cushioned, that they’ve never tasted the raw, unfiltered struggle that shaped him. And he’s worried that without that edge, England will never reclaim the summit they once held without question.

Lawes’ own path was anything but straightforward. Born in Hackney, raised on a council estate, he didn’t come from rugby royalty. He came from a place where sport wasn’t a career. It was a way out. His father worked in construction. His mother cleaned offices. Rugby was something you played at school, something you did because it was free. There were no private coaches, no GPS vests tracking every sprint, no nutritionists drawing up meal plans. There were just cold afternoons on muddy pitches, and the stubborn belief that if you worked hard enough, someone might notice. That someone did. Northampton Saints took a chance on him at 16. The rest is history. But the memory of what it took to get there never faded. It’s tattooed on his skin.

Now, at 35, Lawes is England’s most capped active forward, with over 100 appearances and a leadership role that has seen him steer the team through turbulent times. But leadership in 2026 isn’t what it was in 2010. Back then, the dressing room was a pressure cooker of expectation, of raw ambition, of players who had scraped their way through the lower leagues, who had felt the cold bite of relegation or the thrill of a last-gasp win. Today’s England squad is built on continuity and high-performance structures. Players move between clubs with ease, backed by data analysts, sports scientists, and recovery specialists. The margins are thinner, the margins are sharper, and the room for error is smaller. Lawes sees the difference. He feels it in the way conversations have shifted, in the way complacency can creep in when the pathway is so carefully managed.

He doesn’t want to sound like a dinosaur. He knows the modern game demands adaptability, demands technical precision. But he also knows that the fire that fuels champions isn’t always measured in metres run or collisions won. It’s measured in hunger. In the refusal to accept second best. In the willingness to do the unglamorous work when no one is watching. That’s the kind of hunger he had to learn early. That’s the kind of hunger he fears is missing in some of today’s crop.

Lawes has spent his entire adult life in professional rugby. He made his Northampton debut at 18 and has been a mainstay ever since, winning Premiership titles and European trophies along the way. He made his England debut in 2009 under Martin Johnson, a coach who demanded nothing less than total commitment. Johnson’s England was built on blood and sweat, on brutal training sessions that left players gasping on the floor. It was a culture that valued toughness above all else, a culture that Lawes thrived in. But the game has changed. The demands have shifted. The pathways have professionalised. Academies now churn out technically gifted players from the age of 12, with structured training, video analysis, and sports psychology woven into their development. The result is a generation that arrives at the top already polished, already prepared. But polished isn’t always hungry.

Lawes isn’t suggesting the modern players are soft. He’s suggesting they might be missing something intangible. “I’m not saying they’re not good players,” he says, pausing to choose his words carefully. “I’m saying they haven’t had to fight for every inch. They haven’t had to stare down relegation or watch their club fold. They haven’t had to dig deep when the world was against them.” He points to his own career as proof. The years of travelling on the bus with the reserves, the seasons where Northampton flirted with the drop. The moments when he had to drag himself out of bed at 5 a.m. to fit in extra gym sessions because the first team wasn’t an option yet. Those experiences forged him. They taught him that success isn’t guaranteed. That it has to be earned.

Lawes’ message isn’t just about nostalgia. It’s about survival. England’s 2023 World Cup campaign ended in heartbreak. They were favourites, but they fell short in the quarter-finals, exposed by a South African side that had the edge in physicality and mental resilience. Since then, the team has undergone a rebuild, with Eddie Jones’ second spell as head coach bringing a new structure and a new philosophy. But Lawes, who has played under three different head coaches, knows that no amount of tactical refinement can replace the fire that comes from wanting something so badly you can taste it. He’s seen teams with less talent but more hunger overpower technically superior opponents. He’s seen it in club rugby, where underdogs with nothing to lose have toppled giants. That fire, he believes, is what England needs now.

It’s not an easy conversation to have. Lawes is acutely aware that today’s players are products of a system designed to protect them, to nurture them, to give them every chance to succeed. He doesn’t want to undermine that. But he also doesn’t want to see England repeat the mistakes of the past. He points to the 2007 World Cup, where England crashed out in the group stages, humiliated by South Africa. That team was talented but complacent, a group of players who had never truly been tested. The 2011 cycle was different. That team had been forged in the fire of Johnson’s demands, and while they didn’t win the tournament, they showed resilience and character. Lawes believes that resilience is what’s missing now.

He’s not alone in his concerns. Steve Borthwick, England’s current head coach, has spoken about the need to instil a winning mentality in the squad. He’s talked about creating environments where players are challenged, where they’re forced to confront their weaknesses. Lawes’ words echo that sentiment. “It’s not about making life harder for the sake of it,” Lawes says. “It’s about making sure they’re ready for when it really matters. Because when you step onto that field in a World Cup, it’s not going to be easy. The margins will be tiny. The pressure will be immense. And if you haven’t felt that before, if you haven’t had to dig deep when everything is on the line, then you’re not truly ready.”

Lawes’ leadership style has always been quiet but effective. He leads by example, by showing up every day and doing the work no one else wants to do. He’s the kind of player who turns up to training early, stays late, and never cuts corners. It’s a mindset he’s carried into his leadership role. He doesn’t want to be the captain who shouts the loudest. He wants to be the captain whose actions speak first. But now, as England prepare for the 2027 World Cup, he’s using his voice in a different way. He’s speaking up not just as a player, but as a mentor. He’s trying to pass on the lessons he’s learned, the hard way.

COURTNEY LAWES INTERVIEW: England players coming through now have never experienced the adversity I did. a lot of them need a kick up the backside

It’s a delicate balance. He doesn’t want to come across as a relic, clinging to the past. He knows the game has evolved. He knows the modern player is more technically adept, more tactically aware. But he also knows that the heart of the game hasn’t changed. Rugby is still a sport of physicality and mental toughness. It’s still a sport where the team that wants it more often than not comes out on top. And if England are to reclaim their place at the top of the world, they need that hunger. They need players who are willing to do the unglamorous work, who are willing to push themselves when no one is watching, who are willing to stare down adversity and refuse to blink.

Lawes’ message is simple: talent is important, but it’s not enough. Success isn’t given. It’s earned. And if England want to win a World Cup, they need to be ready to fight for every inch.


The making of a leader

Lawes’ leadership journey began long before he wore the England captain’s armband. It started on the muddy pitches of Hackney, where he learned the value of hard work. It continued at Northampton, where he had to fight for every opportunity. And it matured under the tutelage of coaches like Martin Johnson and Stuart Lancaster, who taught him that leadership isn’t about being the loudest voice in the room. It’s about being the one who leads by example.

His leadership style is built on authenticity. He doesn’t pretend to have all the answers. He doesn’t try to be something he’s not. He’s the kind of leader who rolls up his sleeves and gets stuck in, who shows up early and stays late, who never asks his teammates to do something he wouldn’t do himself. It’s a style that has earned him respect, both in the England camp and in the Premiership.

But leadership in 2026 is different from leadership in 2010. The modern player is more autonomous, more empowered to speak up, to challenge, to question. The old-school approach of “do as I say” doesn’t work anymore. Lawes knows this. He’s adapted. He’s learned to listen as much as he speaks. He’s learned that leadership isn’t about control. It’s about trust.

Yet, despite the changes, some things remain the same. The core of leadership is still about setting an example, about showing up when it matters, about doing the work no one else wants to do. That’s what Lawes has always done. And that’s what he expects from the players around him.


The modern game and the hunger gap

The professionalisation of rugby has been a double-edged sword. On one hand, it’s created pathways for players who might never have had the chance to shine. It’s given them access to world-class facilities, to top-tier coaching, to medical support that ensures they can perform at their best. On the other hand, it’s removed some of the raw, unfiltered struggle that forges character.

Lawes isn’t suggesting the modern player is soft. He’s suggesting they might be missing the kind of hunger that comes from having to claw your way up from nothing. He points to his own career as proof. The years of travelling on the bus with the reserves, the seasons where Northampton flirted with relegation, the moments when he had to dig deep just to get noticed. Those experiences taught him that success isn’t guaranteed. That it has to be earned.

Today’s England squad is built on continuity and high-performance structures. Players move between clubs with ease, backed by data analysts, sports scientists, and recovery specialists. The margins are thinner, the margins are sharper, and the room for error is smaller. Lawes sees the difference. He feels it in the way conversations have shifted, in the way complacency can creep in when the pathway is so carefully managed.

He’s not alone in his concerns. Eddie Jones, during his second spell as England head coach, has spoken about the need to instil a winning mentality in the squad. He’s talked about creating environments where players are challenged, where they’re forced to confront their weaknesses. Lawes’ words echo that sentiment. “It’s not about making life harder for the sake of it,” Lawes says. “It’s about making sure they’re ready for when it really matters. Because when you step onto that field in a World Cup, it’s not going to be easy. The margins will be tiny. The pressure will be immense. And if you haven’t felt that before, if you haven’t had to dig deep when everything is on the line, then you’re not truly ready.”

Lawes’ message isn’t about turning back the clock. It’s about ensuring England are ready for the challenges ahead. It’s about recognising that talent alone won’t be enough. That success isn’t given. That it’s earned. And if England want to win a World Cup, they need players who are willing to fight for every inch.