'Let me be direct. We are in the midst of a rupture, not a transition' — Mark Carney's Davos masterpiece

It's the speech of the year, and one of the great foreign policy speeches of all time.

Courageous, timely, spellbinding in a foreign policy sense, and quite possibly ten minutes of oratory that slowed or stemmed the tide for Trump’s mad expedition to capture Greenland.

I can’t remember a ‘new world order’ speech quite like it.

George W Bush spoke to a joint sitting of Congress after 9-11, announcing his ‘you are either with us, or with the terrorists’ rolling War on Terror, and however much we were feeling America’s pain at that time, we could also detect a dangerous and new reality.

Ronald Reagan delivered his famous ‘Evil Empire’ speech to Evangelicals in 1983, but when I read it now, it’s just a restatement of existing Cold War ideology, with some anti abortion and abstinence ladelled over the top;

These sabre rattling speeches were memorable, but in an international relations sense, they weren’t particularly surprising or courageous. The were both by American presidents, and the USA is — to use Carney’s dry, pursed lipped term — the hegemon.

What’s amazing about Carney’s speech is that it isn’t delivered by an American president, it’s delivered by the Prime Minister of a self declared middle power, a middle power seeking to divest itself from reliance on a major power, and trying to drag much of the world with it. And just as with his classic 2025 speech in response to Trump’s announcement of 25% tariffs on Canadian imports, Carney is calm, meticulous yet unnervingly direct:

‘Today I will talk about a rupture in the world order, the end of a pleasant fiction and the beginning of a harsh reality’

‘The rules-based order is fading, that the strong can do what they can, and the weak must suffer what they must.’

‘Let me be direct. We are in the midst of a rupture, not a transition.’

‘You cannot live within the lie of mutual benefit through integration when integration becomes the source of your subordination.’

Carney begins his speech by outlining the fiction that has prevailed in international relations since the Second World War. The fiction is that we all were protected under a rules based international order, strengthened by institutions like NATO, the World Trade Organization, the United Nations, COP, the World Health Organisation. He explains why it was a lie, why we went along with it, and why we can no longer persist with it.

Perhaps most brilliantly, he invokes the greengrocer from Vaclav Havel’s ‘The Power and the Powerless’:

Every morning, the shopkeeper places a sign in his window: “Workers of the world unite.” He doesn’t believe it. No one does. But he places the sign anyway to avoid trouble, to signal compliance, to get along. And because every shopkeeper on every street does the same, the system persists — not through violence alone, but through the participation of ordinary people in rituals they privately know to be false.

Havel called this living within a lie. The system’s power comes not from its truth, but from everyone’s willingness to perform as if it were true. And its fragility comes from the same source. When even one person stops performing, when the greengrocer removes his sign, the illusion begins to crack.

Friends, it is time for companies and countries to take their signs down.

Freakin hell! The delegates at Davos break into applause. Carney hasn’t mentioned the United States by name, hasn’t mention Trump, but in a few short paragraphs he’s got the economic boffins at Davos leaping out of their seats ready to storm the barricades. It’s interesting, too, that the Havel example invokes the oppressive totalitarianism of communism, which reminds conservatives in the audience that it isn’t ‘the radical left’ Carney is advocating for. He’s speaking for Canada, seeking favour from Australia, Mexico, the UK, the EU. He’s doesn’t talk about immigration. He doesn’t label anything as fascist or totalitarian. He uses the language of the consul or diplomat, being careful not to name names or toss matches, but the overall effect is a flame thrower.

A beautiful section of the speech is at the midpoint, where Carney anticipates what will happen as faith in the fiction of a rules based order evaporates. Fortresses. Isolationism. Transactionalism. He doesn’t mention Trump, studiously and pointedly never mentions Trump, but we can all picture that heinous body on its throne, sneering at world leader after world leader, squeezing the lemon for maximum personal gain and believing himself to be the master deal maker, and not just a tyrant leveraging America’s economic and military power while draining it of its democratic soul.

A country that cannot feed itself, fuel itself, or defend itself has few options. When the rules no longer protect you, you must protect yourself.

But let’s be clear-eyed about where this leads. A world of fortresses will be poorer, more fragile, and less sustainable.

And so Carney articulates a better way for middle powers. He argues for coalitions, trade and military alliances, a rules based and mutually supportive international order for Canada and countries like Canada, that doesn’t rely on the unnamed hegemon. He argues for standing up to the bully, for disengagement with those who would exploit a position of power. He’s like a union organiser for middle powers but with an accountant’s haircut and a management consultant’s dress sense. But the words are electric:

Our view is the middle powers must act together because if we’re not at the table, we’re on the menu.

But I’d also say that great powers can afford, for now, to go it alone. They have the market size, the military capacity, and the leverage to dictate terms. Middle powers do not. But when we only negotiate bilaterally with a hegemon, we negotiate from weakness. We accept what’s offered. We compete with each other to be the most accommodating.

This is not sovereignty. It’s the performance of sovereignty while accepting subordination.

In a world of great power rivalry, the countries in-between have a choice: compete with each other for favour, or combine to create a third path with impact. We shouldn’t allow the rise of hard power to blind us to the fact that the power of legitimacy, integrity, and rules will remain strong if we choose to wield it together.

Which brings me back to Havel. What does it mean for middle powers to live the truth?

He comes back to Havel. Havel is the warm heart amidst the cold IR jargon. If you’ve never read Havel, he really is one of the all time great writers and activists. I love his new year speech from 1990, which to answer my earlier question might be one of the best ‘new world order’ speeches of my lifetime. Except the mood for that one was of optimism and a dawning freedom. Carney is confronting the dark — trying to turn us towards the light.

We have to remove the sign from the window. We have to find the third path.

Will our leaders in Australia be brave enough?

Best wishes

Tony

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Below is the full Mark Carney speech from Davos. Thanks to Paul Wells who writes an excellent Canadian politics page, and who had this transcript up last week.

Mark Carney: ‘We are taking a sign out of the window’, World Economic Forum - 2026

20 January 2026, Davos, Switzerland

Below is the full transcript of the English parts of Carney’s remarks. Speech begins at 9.49 on the YouTube embed.

Thank you very much, Larry. I’m going to start in French, and then I’ll switch back to English.

(IN FRENCH)

It is both a pleasure and a duty to be with you tonight, in this pivotal moment that Canada and the world is going through. Today I will talk about a rupture in the world order, the end of a pleasant fiction and the beginning of a harsh reality, where geopolitics, where the large, main power, geopolitics, is submitted to no limits, no constraints.

On the other hand, I would like to tell you that other countries, especially intermediate powers like Canada, are not powerless. They have the capacity to build a new order that encompasses our values, such as respect for human rights, sustainable development, solidarity, sovereignty and territorial integrity of the various states.

The power of the less powerful starts with honesty.

(IN ENGLISH)

It seems that every day we’re reminded that we live in an era of great power rivalry — that the rules-based order is fading, that the strong can do what they can, and the weak must suffer what they must.

And this aphorism of Thucydides is presented as inevitable, as the natural logic of international relations reasserting itself. And faced with this logic, there is a strong tendency for countries to go along to get along, to accommodate, to avoid trouble, to hope that compliance will buy safety.

Well, it won’t. So what are our options?

In 1978, the Czech dissident Václav Havel, later president, wrote an essay called “The Power of the Powerless,” and in it he asked a simple question: how did the communist system sustain itself?

And his answer began with a greengrocer.

Every morning, the shopkeeper places a sign in his window: “Workers of the world unite.” He doesn’t believe it. No one does. But he places the sign anyway to avoid trouble, to signal compliance, to get along. And because every shopkeeper on every street does the same, the system persists — not through violence alone, but through the participation of ordinary people in rituals they privately know to be false.

Havel called this living within a lie. The system’s power comes not from its truth, but from everyone’s willingness to perform as if it were true. And its fragility comes from the same source. When even one person stops performing, when the greengrocer removes his sign, the illusion begins to crack.

Friends, it is time for companies and countries to take their signs down.

For decades, countries like Canada prospered under what we called the rules-based international order. We join its institutions, we praised its principles, we benefited from its predictability. And because of that, we could pursue values-based foreign policies under its protection.

We knew the story of the international rules-based order was partially false, that the strongest would exempt themselves when convenient, that trade rules were enforced asymmetrically, and we knew that international law applied with varied rigor, depending on the identity of the accused or the victim.

This fiction was useful. An American hegemony in particular helped provide public goods, open sea lanes, a stable financial system, collective security, and support for frameworks for resolving disputes.

So we placed the sign in the window. We participated in the rituals, and we largely avoided calling out the gaps between rhetoric and reality.

This bargain no longer works.

Let me be direct. We are in the midst of a rupture, not a transition.

Over the past two decades, a series of crises in finance, health, energy and geopolitics have laid bare the risks of extreme global integration. But more recently, great powers have begun using economic integration as weapons, tariffs as leverage, financial infrastructure as coercion, supply chains as vulnerabilities to be exploited.

You cannot live within the lie of mutual benefit through integration when integration becomes the source of your subordination.

The multilateral institutions on which the middle powers have relied — the WTO, the UN, the COP, the very architecture of collective problem solving — are under threat. As a result, many countries are drawing the same conclusions that they must develop greater strategic autonomy in energy, food, critical minerals, in finance and supply chains. And this impulse is understandable.

A country that cannot feed itself, fuel itself, or defend itself has few options. When the rules no longer protect you, you must protect yourself.

But let’s be clear-eyed about where this leads. A world of fortresses will be poorer, more fragile, and less sustainable.

And there’s another truth: if great powers abandon even the pretense of rules and values for the unhindered pursuit of their power and interests, the gains from transactionalism will become harder to replicate.

Hegemons cannot continually monetize their relationships. Allies will diversify to hedge against uncertainty. They’ll buy insurance, increase options in order to rebuild sovereignty, sovereignty that was once grounded in rules but will increasingly be anchored in the ability to withstand pressure.

This room knows this is classic risk management. Risk management comes at a price. But that cost of strategic autonomy, of sovereignty, can also be shared. Collective investments in resilience are cheaper than everyone building their own fortresses. Shared standards reduce fragmentations. Complementarities are positive sum.

The question for middle powers like Canada is not whether to adapt to the new reality — we must.

The question is whether we adapt by simply building higher walls, or whether we can do something more ambitious.

Now, Canada was amongst the first to hear the wake-up call, leading us to fundamentally shift our strategic posture. Canadians know that our old, comfortable assumptions that our geography and alliance memberships automatically conferred prosperity and security, that assumption is no longer valid. And our new approach rests on what Alexander Stubb, the president of Finland, has termed value-based realism.

Or, to put it another way, we aim to be both principled and pragmatic. Principled in our commitment to fundamental values, sovereignty, territorial integrity, the prohibition of the use of force except when consistent with the UN Charter and respect for human rights.

And pragmatic in recognizing that progress is often incremental, that interests diverge, that not every partner will share all of our values.

So we’re engaging broadly, strategically, with open eyes. We actively take on the world as it is, not wait around for a world we wish to be.

We are calibrating our relationships so their depth reflects our values, and we’re prioritizing broad engagement to maximize our influence, given the fluidity of the world at the moment, the risks that this poses and the stakes for what comes next.

And we are no longer just relying on the strength of our values, but also the value of our strength.

We are building that strength at home. Since my government took office, we have cut taxes on incomes, on capital gains and business investment. We have removed all federal barriers to interprovincial trade. We are fast tracking $1 trillion of investments in energy, AI, critical minerals, new trade corridors and beyond. We’re doubling our defence spending by the end of this decade, and we’re doing so in ways that build our domestic industries. And we are rapidly diversifying abroad.

We’ve agreed to a comprehensive strategic partnership with the EU, including joining SAFE, the European defence procurement arrangements. We have signed 12 other trade and security deals on four continents in six months.

In the past few days, we’ve concluded new strategic partnerships with China and Qatar. We’re negotiating free trade pacts with India, ASEAN, Thailand, Philippines and Mercosur.

We’re doing something else: to help solve global problems, we’re pursuing variable geometry. In other words, different coalitions for different issues based on common values and interests. So on Ukraine, we’re a core member of the Coalition of the Willing and one of the largest per capita contributors to its defence and security.

On Arctic sovereignty, we stand firmly with Greenland and Denmark and fully support their unique right to determine Greenland’s future.

Our commitment to NATO’s Article 5 is unwavering, so we’re working with our NATO allies, including the Nordic-Baltic Eight, to further secure the alliance’s northern and western flanks, including through Canada’s unprecedented investments in over-the-horizon radar, in submarines, in aircraft, and boots on the ground — boots on the ice.

Canada strongly opposes tariffs over Greenland and calls for focused talks to achieve our shared objectives of security and prosperity in the Arctic.

On plurilateral trade, we’re championing efforts to build a bridge between the Trans-Pacific partnership and the European Union, which would create a new trading bloc of 1.5 billion people.

On critical minerals we’re forming buyers’ clubs anchored in the G7 so the world can diversify away from concentrated supply. And on AI, we’re cooperating with like-minded democracies to ensure that we won’t ultimately be forced to choose between hegemons and hyperscalers.

This is not naïve multilateralism, nor is it relying on their institutions. It’s building coalitions that work issue by issue with partners who share enough common ground to act together. In some cases, this will be the vast majority of nations. What it’s doing is creating a dense web of connections across trade, investment, culture on which we can draw for future challenges and opportunities.

Our view is the middle powers must act together because if we’re not at the table, we’re on the menu.

But I’d also say that great powers can afford, for now, to go it alone. They have the market size, the military capacity, and the leverage to dictate terms. Middle powers do not. But when we only negotiate bilaterally with a hegemon, we negotiate from weakness. We accept what’s offered. We compete with each other to be the most accommodating.

This is not sovereignty. It’s the performance of sovereignty while accepting subordination.

In a world of great power rivalry, the countries in-between have a choice: compete with each other for favour, or combine to create a third path with impact. We shouldn’t allow the rise of hard power to blind us to the fact that the power of legitimacy, integrity, and rules will remain strong if we choose to wield it together.

Which brings me back to Havel. What does it mean for middle powers to live the truth?

First, it means naming reality. Stop invoking rules-based international order as though it still functions as advertised. Call it what it is: a system of intensifying great power rivalry where the most powerful pursue their interests using economic integration as coercion.

It means acting consistently, applying the same standards to allies and rivals. When middle powers criticize economic intimidation from one direction but stay silent when it comes from another, we are keeping the sign in the window.

It means building what we claim to believe in, rather than waiting for the old order to be restored. It means creating institutions and agreements that function as described, and it means reducing the leverage that enables coercion.

That’s building a strong domestic economy. It should be every government’s immediate priority.

And diversification internationally is not just economic prudence; it’s a material foundation for honest foreign policy, because countries earn the right to principled stands by reducing their vulnerability to retaliation.

So, Canada. Canada has what the world wants. We are an energy superpower. We hold vast reserves of critical minerals. We have the most educated population in the world. Our pension funds are amongst the world’s largest and most sophisticated investors. In other words, we have capital, talent. We also have a government with immense fiscal capacity to act decisively. And we have the values to which many others aspire.

Canada is a pluralistic society that works. Our public square is loud, diverse and free. Canadians remain committed to sustainability. We are a stable and reliable partner in a world that is anything but, a partner that builds and values relationships for the long term.

And we have something else: we have a recognition of what’s happening and determination to act accordingly. We understand that this rupture calls for more than adaptation. It calls for honesty about the world as it is.

We are taking a sign out of the window.

We know the old order is not coming back. We shouldn’t mourn it. Nostalgia is not a strategy, but we believe that from the fracture we can build something bigger, better, stronger, more just. This is the task of the middle powers, the countries that have the most to lose from a world of fortresses and the most to gain from genuine cooperation.

The powerful have their power. But we have something too: the capacity to stop pretending, to name realities, to build our strength at home, and to act together.

That is Canada’s path. We choose it openly and confidently, and it is a path wide open to any country willing to take it with us.

Thank you very much.

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