Davos 2026: The ultimate networking event is feeling the strain

OVER ITS 56 years of existence, the World Economic Forum’s annual meeting in Davos—the latest of which will begin on January 19th—has established itself as the world’s most-talked-about gathering. So much so that making the annual pilgrimage to Davos has become a rite of passage for members of the global elite, and the ultimate status-marker.

How did that success come about? It boils down to a pragmatism that never let the cognitive dissonance between, on the one hand, pursuing business interests and, on the other, claiming to peddle global influence while doing good, get in the way of the WEF’s true business: bringing influential people together. But in today’s world this model is under strain.

The WEF has long excelled at peddling the myth that it helps shape the agenda of world leaders. When I worked there in the 2000s, its mission statement proclaimed it to be “committed to improving the state of the world by engaging leaders in partnerships to shape global, regional and industry agendas”. No modest ambition. However, after the global financial crisis of 2007-09, the WEF came under intense criticism for having promoted a neoliberal agenda that many saw as contributing to the crash. In response, it discreetly dialled down its rhetoric. Today, its mission is “to improve the state of the world through public-private co-operation”. Still lofty but notably vaguer.

The WEF neither shapes the global agenda nor improves the state of the world. The reality is more prosaic. It does one thing very well: providing a networking platform. This explains why its agenda consistently mirrors, rather than leads, that of its constituents: first and foremost, the member companies that pay handsomely to attend and understandably expect a return on their investment.

In this arrangement, everyone gets what they want. Global companies benefit from the network effects of the WEF platform to do business and advance their own interests, including by influencing the meeting’s programme. The WEF, in turn, reaps the benefit to its reputation and finances: in 2023–24 alone it collected SFr271m ($340m) in partnership and membership contributions.

But the WEF’s heyday, when the West was drunk on its own power, is over. At a moment when the very notion of the West lies shattered, the WEF remains a Western-centric organisation with an overwhelmingly Western agenda. Be it as a political bloc, a cultural identity or a set of rules-based liberal values, the West’s coherence and claim to global leadership is being steadily eroded by Donald Trump’s Hobbesian worldview, the rise of “the rest” and the shift towards multipolarity. Yet despite efforts at diversification, the WEF remains quintessentially Western: a Swiss not-for-profit foundation led by a Norwegian CEO and American and Swiss co-chairs. In today’s fragmenting geopolitical landscape, this is not a good look for an organisation that claims to be global.

In addition, the WEF’s hitherto masterly fence-sitting is becoming untenable. Increasingly, it is seen as an organisation that pretends to engage in solving global problems with the predominantly Western companies that caused them in the first place. WEF initiatives and Davos sessions are often draped in the language of “inclusive growth”, “climate justice” and “social responsibility”—and therefore seen as hypocritical. Too many conversations in Davos pay lip service to lofty ideals and objectives while shying away from the inconvenient, uncomfortable action needed to achieve them.

So what lies ahead for the WEF? Geopolitics is being refashioned as the organisation looks to a future beyond its founder and longtime ringmaster Klaus Schwab, who stepped down last year after a whistleblower made allegations of financial and ethical misconduct against him (which he denied).

Globally, the high-end conference business is flourishing. Paradoxically, the more digital the world becomes, the stronger the appetite for in-person gatherings. But certain events already outperform the WEF in specific domains, for instance the Munich Security Conference on defence and international relations. At the same time, country- and region-specific forums are proliferating, often backed by policymakers with as much pull as Davos, if not more. Saudi Arabia’s Future Investment Initiative (branded “Davos in the Desert”) and the Boao Forum for Asia (“the Asian Davos”) are emblematic. As the world becomes more multipolar, such high-powered regional events are sure to multiply in both number and significance.

Meanwhile, the WEF faces a hostile takeover of its agenda and platform. To secure the participation of Mr Trump in this year’s Davos, the organisers assured him that “woke topics” would be watered down, in effect handing him control of the programme. Mr Trump—whose promised presence has delivered a sugar-high to overall attendance this year—will occupy centre stage while members of his administration, business allies, family members and other supporters advance his agenda across the official programme and the hundreds of side events orbiting the meeting.

Is this year’s Davos a preview of what is to come? Probably. The WEF will continue to exist, but as a disembodied shell that has abandoned any pretence of credible agenda-setting, let alone improving anything. It will keep doing what it does best: staging a high-end commercial fair for global chief executives and their constituents. But beware: many countries are on the prowl, looking to carve up this lucrative cake and keep the best pieces for themselves.■