Welcome to the annual gathering of the world’s most expensive shadows. Davos, that shivering mountain peak where the self-appointed custodians of the planet gather to discuss ‘sustainability’ while burning enough jet fuel to melt the very glaciers they are ostensibly mourning. It is a place where the air is thin, the egos are bloated, and the reality of the common man is as distant as the moons of Jupiter. And into this vacuum of performative empathy stepped Donald Trump, a man who treats the global economy with the same nuanced care a bored toddler gives to a sandcastle. In a moment of refreshing—if horrifying—honesty, Trump admitted to the gathered throng of plutocrats that he raised tariffs on Switzerland to among the highest in the world not because of some grand strategic maneuver or a calculated defense of the American worker, but because he didn’t like the ‘vibe’ of a phone call with the Swiss President.

Behold the peak of 21st-century statecraft: friction as a fiscal policy. The Swiss, those professional fence-sitters of history who have spent centuries perfecting the art of being both invisible and indispensable, finally found the one thing their neutrality couldn’t protect them from: the fragile ego of an American president with a trade pen and a grudge. According to the man himself, a single conversation was enough to tip the scales of international trade. It is the ultimate distillation of our era. Forget the complex interplay of currencies, the delicate balance of imports and exports, or the painstakingly negotiated treaties of the post-war order. None of that matters when compared to whether or not a world leader felt sufficiently flattered during a ten-minute chat.

The absurdity of this situation is matched only by the predictable reactions of the two-headed beast that is our political discourse. The Left is already hyperventilating, clutching their pearls and sobbing about the ‘destruction of alliances’ and the ‘norms of diplomacy.’ They act as if the international order was a sacred cathedral of reason, rather than a glorified tax haven for the same corporations that fund their campaigns. They mourn the loss of ‘decorum’ as if a polite exploiter is somehow preferable to a loud one. Meanwhile, the Right is busy constructing a heroic narrative where this petulant outburst is actually a stroke of ‘America First’ genius. They will tell you, with straight faces, that taxing Swiss precision instruments and luxury watches is a vital blow against the ‘Globalists,’ seemingly unaware that the American consumer is the one who will foot the bill for this particular temper tantrum. They cheer the wrecking ball while standing inside the house it’s hitting.

Let us consider the Swiss for a moment. This is a nation that has built its entire brand on being the world’s safety deposit box. They have managed to stay out of every major conflict by making themselves too useful to everyone’s hidden bank accounts to be attacked. They are the masters of the bland middle, the architects of the shrug. Yet, they managed to generate enough ‘friction’ to provoke a trade war. It is almost impressive. What did the Swiss President say? Did he fail to laugh at a joke? Did he suggest that maybe, just maybe, the world doesn’t revolve around a gold-plated penthouse in Manhattan? In the kingdom of the thin-skinned, a slight breeze is a declaration of war.

This is the world we have built for ourselves: a world where the price of chocolate, the availability of medical technology, and the stability of markets are subject to the whims of men who view the world as a series of personal slights. It is a playground of the puerile. We are told that we live in a globalized, interconnected society where rational actors make decisions based on data and mutual interest. But the reality is far more depressing. We are trapped in a high-stakes remake of a middle-school lunchroom drama, where the kid with the most nuclear weapons gets to decide who sits at the cool table.

The true tragedy isn’t the tariffs themselves; the Swiss economy will likely survive, and the American consumer will simply go back to buying whatever overpriced trinket is shoved in their face next. The tragedy is the confirmation that there is no one at the helm. There is no grand plan, no visionary leadership, and certainly no adult in the room. There is only ‘friction.’ There is only the endless, exhausting spectacle of powerful people acting out their insecurities on a global stage while the rest of us are forced to clap and pretend it’s ‘policy.’ We are all just collateral damage in a series of bad phone calls. If this is the ‘leadership’ the world has to offer, perhaps the glaciers have the right idea by melting away as fast as they can.