The Swiss air is thin, which is convenient, because so is the credibility of everyone attending Davos 2026. This year’s festivities feature the intellectual equivalent of a funeral dirge performed by people who are actively looting the casket. Mark Carney, Canada’s Prime Minister and the perennial poster child for the 'adults in the room'—if the room is a high-stakes casino where the house always wins and the players are all sociopaths—has declared that the global order is in the midst of a 'rupture.' Groundbreaking. Truly. It only took a decade of systemic collapse for the man who once ran the Bank of England to notice the floorboards are missing. To Carney, the 'rupture' isn't a result of the inherent contradictions of neoliberalism or the fact that the working class has been sold for parts; no, it’s a tragic accident, like a spilled Chardonnay at an embassy gala.

Carney’s performance in Davos is a masterclass in the kind of performative angst that characterizes the modern center-left. He stands there, draped in the invisible mantle of 'global stability,' and laments the death of an era that he personally helped manage into the grave. The centerpiece of this year’s hand-wringing is, of course, the renewed American interest in Greenland. Donald Trump’s fixation on the world’s largest island—a pursuit that vacillates between a 19th-century land grab and a desperate attempt to build the world’s most isolated golf course—has provided Carney with the perfect opportunity to play the hero. Canada, we are told, stands with Greenland. It’s a touching sentiment, provided you don't look too closely at the map or the math. The idea of Canada acting as a geopolitical bulwark against an American administration that views international law as a series of 'suggestions' is the kind of comedy that usually requires a two-drink minimum.

But Carney isn't just defending ice; he’s defending the 'US-led global order.' This is the same order that has spent the last forty years deregulating itself into a series of rolling financial crises, while simultaneously wondering why the rest of the world is starting to look elsewhere for leadership. Carney’s critique of the US is sharp, acidic, and utterly toothless. He talks of a 'rupture' while Canada remains tethered to the American economy like a pilot fish to a dying shark. It’s a symbiotic relationship based on mutual exhaustion and a shared refusal to acknowledge that the party is over. The Right, represented by the orange-hued obsession with Arctic real estate, sees the world as a Monopoly board where the rules are whatever you can yell the loudest. They don't care about 'orders' or 'stability'; they care about leverage. If Greenland has minerals and a strategic position, then Greenland is a target. It’s primitive, moronic, and refreshingly honest in its greed. There is no pretense of 'human rights' or 'democratic norms' in a land deal. It’s just the raw, lizard-brain logic of the developer class, applied to a continent-sized block of melting ice.

Meanwhile, the Left—or what passes for it in the hallowed halls of Davos—responds with the only weapon it has left: adjectives. They call it 'unprecedented,' 'dangerous,' and 'destabilizing.' They hold panels. They release white papers. They stand with Greenland while the permafrost melts and the global supply chains they built continue to strangle the planet. Carney’s 'rupture' is a linguistic fig leaf, a way to describe the end of the world that makes it sound like a temporary technical glitch in a spreadsheet. What we are witnessing isn't a rupture; it’s a liquidation. The global elite are in Davos not to fix the world, but to coordinate the salvage operation. Carney’s sudden bravery against the American hegemon is nothing more than a career pivot—a desperate attempt to position Canada as the 'moral' alternative to an increasingly erratic neighbor, even as both countries drift toward the same inevitable abyss.

The world order isn't breaking; it’s being stripped for scrap metal by the very people who claim to be its guardians. In the end, whether Greenland is bought, sold, or merely 'supported' by the polite technocracy in Ottawa is irrelevant. The ice will keep melting, the private jets will keep flying to Davos, and Mark Carney will continue to use words like 'rupture' to describe the sound of his own class falling through the ice. It’s a beautiful, miserable cycle of failure, performed for an audience of billionaires who are too busy checking their stock portfolios to realize that the 'order' they’re mourning was the very thing that doomed them. Humanity’s capacity for self-delusion remains the only truly infinite resource on the planet, and at Davos 2026, the mines are running at full capacity.