The World Economic Forum, that annual congregation of the world’s most expensive carbon footprints, has stumbled upon a new narrative to justify its existence: Greenland. Apparently, the sight of a massive, frozen landmass disintegrating into the North Atlantic is exactly the "wake-up call" Europe needs to rediscover its "mojo." It is a phrase so profoundly stupid, so inherently pathetic, that it could only have been birthed in the sterile, oxygen-thin air of Davos. "Mojo." As if the European Union—a sprawling, multi-headed hydra of red tape and existential dread—just needs a leather jacket and a motorcycle to get back in the game.

The premise, as outlined by the luminaries currently dodging the reality of their own irrelevance, is that Europe is losing its grip. This is not news to anyone who hasn't been living in a lead-lined bunker since the Maastricht Treaty. Between a US administration that treats its "oldest allies" with the same respect a toddler gives a discarded toy, and an internal landscape defined by trade tensions and wars that the continent seems incapable of ending or winning, Europe is looking less like a global power and more like a retirement home with a very nice gift shop. The masters of the universe have gathered in the Swiss Alps to discuss how to fix this, presumably while eating canapés that cost more than the average European’s monthly heating bill.

The American side of this equation is particularly delicious in its brutality. Washington has spent the last few years hurling insults across the pond with the casual cruelty of a high school bully, and the European response has been a masterclass in performative hand-wringing. The Right-wing contingent on the continent responds with a brand of nationalism that is as moronic as it is futile, dreaming of a return to sovereign glory that died roughly around the time the first steam engine was built. These people think that if they just scream loud enough about borders and heritage, the reality of global economic shifts will somehow get scared and run away. They are wrong, of course, but watching them try is like watching a dog bark at a thunderstorm.

The Left, meanwhile, retreats into a cocoon of moral superiority, lecturing the world on climate change while their own industries stagnate and their "allies" laugh behind their backs. They’ve turned decline into a lifestyle choice, rebranding their inability to compete as a "moral victory." It’s a symphony of incompetence where the only thing everyone agrees on is that someone else should pay for the orchestra. They talk about "strategic autonomy" as if it’s something you can buy at a boutique, rather than something earned through economic and military actualization—two things Europe currently has in the same quantity as Greenland has tropical palm trees.

And now, Greenland. The WEF is framing the melting ice as a catalyst for action. Because apparently, the threat of rising sea levels and the total collapse of the North Atlantic Current is the spark required for a committee to finally approve a white paper on "strategic resilience." It’s the ultimate symptom of the modern condition: the belief that reality is a series of "wake-up calls" rather than a steady, predictable consequence of human stupidity. Greenland isn’t trying to wake Europe up; Greenland is trying to leave. It is physically divorcing itself from the planet’s stability, and the bureaucrats in Davos think this is a fantastic branding opportunity. They discuss the Arctic as the new frontier, a fresh playground for the same trade tensions and resource grabbing that they’ve already bungled everywhere else.

Let’s be clear about what "regaining mojo" actually looks like in the halls of European power. It doesn’t mean innovation, and it certainly doesn't mean strength. It means more summits. It means more "frameworks." It means more elderly men and women in tailored suits standing in front of blue flags, expressing "deep concern" while the rest of the world—the ones who actually make things, break things, and buy things—moves on without them. The US doesn’t care about Europe’s mojo; the US cares about whether Europe is a useful buffer or a lucrative market. Asia doesn’t care about Europe’s mojo; it cares about who owns the ports and the supply chains.

The absurdity of the Davos discussion lies in its fundamental refusal to acknowledge the obvious: you cannot "regain" what was built on a world order that no longer exists. Europe’s influence was a product of a specific historical moment that has passed, leaving behind a continent that is essentially a very beautiful, very expensive museum. The people in that museum are now looking at a melting iceberg in Greenland and wondering if that’s the alarm clock they’ve been waiting for. It isn’t. It’s just the sound of the museum’s air conditioning failing. But please, by all means, continue the discussion. Perhaps if you hold enough panels on "the Greenland effect," the ice will stop melting out of sheer boredom. Or perhaps, more likely, the world will continue to watch as the Old World attempts to find its swagger while standing knee-deep in the rising tide of its own obsolescence. The mojo isn't coming back, and no amount of Swiss mountain air is going to change the fact that the party ended hours ago, and Europe is just the guest who doesn't know how to call a cab.