WEF WTF ??

More on the WEF 

From an original comment on FB by Raymond Lavallee

When Stephen Harper arrived in office in 2006 with a sharp economic identity: austerity, fiscal discipline, resource-driven growth, global investment, and unwavering support for market-centric governance. The WEF was a perfect match. It wasn’t a social club or a symbolic stop on the diplomatic circuit — it was a strategic megaphone. From Davos, Harper could speak over the heads of domestic politics and communicate Canada’s economic philosophy directly to global capital. He didn’t just appear at the WEF; he championed it. He repeatedly described Davos as “an indispensable part of the global conversation” on stability and growth, and he meant it.

 

  

The peak of Harper’s relationship with the WEF came during the 2008–09 global financial crisis. While markets convulsed, governments panicked, and economic forecasts fell apart, Harper knew that investor confidence shapes reality as much as legislation does. So he did what many leaders avoided: he went to Davos in the middle of the chaos. From the WEF stage, he told the world Canada was stable — its banks were solid, its lending rules strict, its fiscal framework predictable. It was a masterclass in market reassurance. Harper used Davos to brand Canada as the safest port in a storm, and foreign investment followed. It wasn’t luck; it was strategy. Davos didn’t shape Harper — Harper used Davos to shape the world’s perception of Canada.

What made Harper and the WEF such perfect ideological partners was that neither had to pretend. The WEF’s mantra — deregulation, free trade, resource export expansion, private capital as the primary engine of progress — wasn’t something Harper tolerated; it was his worldview already. Harper didn’t go to Davos to network with strangers who might influence him. He went because he was already one of them. Davos celebrated him during the crisis era not as an up-and-comer but as the model of fiscally conservative governance. He became, for a time, the poster child of technocratic capitalism.

 

Harper also used Davos as a sales floor for his energy agenda. He pitched the oil sands, pipelines, and fossil-megaprojects as reliable long-term investments protected from geopolitical disruptions. He framed Canada’s resource sector as a bastion of global energy security — and in Davos, that message landed exactly the way he wanted it to. In a room full of sovereign funds, oil companies, and major lenders, Harper wasn’t just a politician. He was a salesman with a stable product.

 

All of this matters because the modern right has reinvented the WEF not as a conference, but as a monster. If attendance at Davos truly signalled subservience to a shadowy cabal, then Harper — not Mark Carney — would be the greatest villain of the conspiracy universe. But that’s not how these narratives work. The WEF only became “dangerous” once fear became politically profitable. When the WEF was useful to conservatives, it was praised. When it became useful to demonize rivals, it was turned into the boogeyman.

 

Harper didn’t fear Davos. He admired it because he understood its value. He didn’t see it as a threat to sovereignty — he saw it as a stage where a smart leader could control a global narrative. Today’s anti-WEF rhetoric isn’t about sovereignty or patriotism. It’s about weaponizing ignorance. And the proof is simple: when the right needed Davos, they applauded it. When they needed rage, they attacked it. The WEF never changed — only the politics did.