Deep in the Swiss Alps, where the air is thin and the moral compasses of the global elite are even thinner, the World Economic Forum has once again provided a stage for the world’s most expensive theater. This year’s lead performer, Emmanuel Macron—a man who carries the weight of France’s ego on shoulders that appear increasingly brittle—has decided to take a stand. His opponent? The orange specter of American populism, Donald Trump, a man whose approach to international diplomacy involves the delicacy of a wrecking ball and the attention span of a goldfish on caffeine. The catalyst for this latest bout of performative outrage was, naturally, a social media leak. Trump, in his signature style of treating state secrets like gossip at a suburban strip mall, allegedly shared private conversations. Macron, ever the student of the dramatic pause, used his time at Davos to declare that Europe would not be intimidated. It was a stirring speech, provided you find the sound of a balloon leaking air to be stirring.

Let us dissect the absurdity of this encounter. On one side, we have Macron, the quintessential 'Jupiterian' leader, who seems to believe that if he uses enough syllables, the crumbling reality of European relevance will somehow reconstruct itself into a formidable empire. He spoke of 'respect' and warned against the 'law of the strongest.' It is a fascinating choice of words for a man whose own domestic popularity is currently hovering somewhere near the basement of a Parisian sewer. Macron’s insistence on European sovereignty is the geopolitical equivalent of a chihuahua barking at a thunderstorm; it is brave, perhaps, but ultimately inconsequential to the storm. He wants the world to believe that Europe is a unified, muscular entity capable of staring down the American hegemon, yet he leads a continent that can barely agree on the proper curvature of a banana, let alone a cohesive defense strategy that doesn't rely on the very bully he is currently decrying.

On the other side of the Atlantic, we have the bully in question. Trump’s penchant for leaking private conversations is not a strategy; it is a reflex. It is the action of a man who views the world as a giant reality television set where the only metric of success is the number of 'likes' or 'shares' a betrayal can generate. To Trump, a private conversation is simply content waiting to be monetized. The irony, of course, is that by reacting with such choreographed indignation, Macron has given Trump exactly what he wants: a reaction. The American Right views Macron’s 'sovereignty' as a joke, a Gallic temper tantrum thrown by a man who knows his influence is waning. They see a weak leader hiding behind the 'rule of law' because he no longer has the raw power to dictate terms. And in a way, their moronic assessment contains a grain of truth. Law without the power to enforce it is just a polite suggestion, and Macron’s threats of 'trade sanctions' are about as terrifying as a strongly worded letter from a homeowner’s association.

The Left, meanwhile, will undoubtedly frame Macron as the last defender of Western values, the 'adult in the room' standing up to the barbarian at the gate. This is equally delusional. Macron is not defending 'the rule of law' out of some noble commitment to justice; he is defending the specific set of rules that allow the European elite to maintain their comfortable positions in the global hierarchy. He is a technocrat in a hero’s costume. His rejection of the 'law of the strongest' is merely a plea for a world where the 'law of the most bureaucratic' remains supreme. Both men are grifters of a different stripe: one sells the loud, vulgar fantasy of nationalistic strength, while the other sells the quiet, expensive fantasy of institutional stability. Neither has any interest in the actual well-being of the people they claim to represent, who are currently struggling to pay for heat while their leaders bicker in a luxury ski resort.

Historically, this is the pathetic tail-end of an era. We are witnessing the final, screeching arguments of a liberal order that has lost its teeth and a populist movement that never had a brain. Macron’s warning that Europe will not be intimidated is a lie told to himself as much as to the world. Europe is intimidated. It is intimidated by its own demographic decline, its energy dependence, and its inability to innovate in a world that is leaving it behind to become a charming museum for Chinese and American tourists. Trump is merely the mirror reflecting this decay in the most obnoxious way possible. The Davos crowd may applaud Macron’s defiance, but their applause is the sound of people whistling past a graveyard. There is no 'sovereign Europe' coming to save the day, and there is no 'respect' to be found in a room full of people who would sell their own mothers for a basis-point increase in their hedge fund’s performance. In the end, we are left with two aging symbols of a failing West, arguing over the ruins of a burning house while debating who gets to hold the garden hose.