Davos is the place where the world’s most expensive haircuts gather to discuss the plight of the poor over $40 glasses of mineral water. It is the natural habitat of Emmanuel Macron, a man who carries himself with the unbearable weight of a philosopher-king while presiding over a nation that seems to view him as a particularly annoying substitute teacher. This year, the 'Jupiterian' leader took to the stage to remind the gathered plutocrats that Europe possesses 'strong tools'—a phrase that carries all the structural integrity of a damp croissant. Macron’s primary grievance is that the 'rules of the game' are not being respected. It is a quaint notion, isn't it? The idea that global geopolitics is a polite game of croquet rather than a blood-soaked struggle for the last remaining scraps of a dying planet.

Let’s address the elephant in the room, or rather, the orange real estate developer in the Oval Office. The 'Greenland standoff' is the specific catalyst for this latest bout of Gallic hand-wringing. We live in a timeline so profoundly stupid that the President of the United States threatened to impose tariffs on European countries because Denmark wouldn't sell him an entire landmass like it was a bankrupt casino in Atlantic City. Trump’s understanding of international diplomacy is roughly equivalent to a toddler’s understanding of gravity—he just drops things to see if they break. In response, Macron stands in the thin, expensive air of the Swiss Alps and talks about 'rules.' It is the ultimate performative act: the technocrat clinging to a manual for a machine that exploded decades ago.

What are these 'tools' Macron speaks of with such unearned confidence? To the European Union, a 'tool' is usually a 400-page regulatory document or a sub-committee tasked with investigating the feasibility of a future inquiry. When Trump threatens the European economy because his feelings were hurt by a Danish Prime Minister, the EU’s response is to retreat into the comforting embrace of legalese. These tools are designed for a world of rational actors, a world that exists only in the fever dreams of neoliberal economists and people who find spreadsheet software erotic. Macron is trying to bring a slide rule to a knife fight, and he expects us to applaud his commitment to the mathematics of the blade.

Both sides of this 'standoff' are equally grotesque. On one hand, you have the American Right, led by a man who views the globe as a giant Monopoly board and whose only consistent policy is the gratification of his own ego. They have abandoned even the pretense of governance in favor of a smash-and-grab approach to international relations. On the other hand, you have the European center-left, epitomized by Macron, who believe that if they just use enough sophisticated vocabulary, the reality of their declining relevance will somehow vanish. They are the high-priests of a status quo that has failed everyone but the people currently sitting in the Davos audience. They talk about 'rules' because the rules were written by them, for them, and they are terrified of a world where their 'tools' are revealed to be nothing more than decorative props.

The 'game' Macron refers to is rigged, and it always has been. The rules are designed to ensure that capital flows upward while the consequences flow downward. When Macron talks about 'countermeasures' against US tariffs, he isn't protecting the average European citizen; he is protecting the profit margins of multinational corporations that have more in common with their American counterparts than they do with the people they supposedly serve. The standoff over Greenland is a distraction, a shiny object intended to keep the masses focused on the absurdity of the leaders rather than the inherent cruelty of the system they both uphold. Whether it’s Trump’s blatant bullying or Macron’s polished technocracy, the result for the rest of humanity is identical: we are the collateral damage in a spat between two different brands of narcissism.

As the ice in Greenland actually melts, the leaders of the 'free world' are arguing over who gets to claim ownership of the puddle and what the tariff on the bucket should be. Macron’s performance at Davos is a masterclass in the futility of the modern political class. He offers 'tools' for a broken system and 'rules' for a lawless age. He is a man who thinks he is the doctor, but he is merely a symptom of the disease. The Davos crowd will continue to nod, the private jets will continue to take off, and the 'game' will continue until there is nothing left to play for. In the meantime, we are expected to find comfort in the fact that our leaders are using 'strong tools' to manage our collective demise. It would be funny if it weren't so profoundly exhausting.