Davos And A Global VisionPNW STAFF
The World Economic Forum's 56th Annual Meeting has kicked off with what Swiss daily Blick described as a "record storm" of arrivals. More than 3,000 participants from 130 countries -- including roughly 65 heads of state, hundreds of CEOs, central bankers, global NGO leaders, tech titans, and media executives -- descended on the small Alpine town of Davos beginning January 19. Switzerland has reportedly never handled a week of diplomatic jets, private charters, and high-level security coordination on this scale before.
That alone tells us something important: Davos still matters.
For nearly five decades, the World Economic Forum has positioned itself not merely as a conference, but as a convener of global power -- a place where economic policy, environmental priorities, technological frameworks, and political narratives are aligned behind closed doors. Deals aren't officially signed there, but directions are set. Language is agreed upon. Consensus among elites is formed. And when consensus is formed at Davos, it often finds its way into legislation, corporate policy, international treaties, and cultural norms within months or years.
That influence is precisely why Davos has become a source of deep concern -- and outright fear -- among many conservatives and Christians in the United States.
At the heart of the unease surrounding the World Economic Forum is its openly stated ambition: global coordination, global standards, and global governance mechanisms that transcend national borders.
The WEF regularly speaks of a "shared global future," "stakeholder capitalism," and "systems-level transformation." To its supporters, this language signals cooperation. To its critics, it signals consolidation of power.
Americans, particularly conservatives, have long favored national sovereignty, constitutional limits, and decentralized authority. The idea that unelected global bodies -- populated by corporate executives, foreign leaders, and ideological activists -- might influence domestic policy is anathema to that tradition. Christians, in particular, bristle at the idea that moral, economic, and even biological frameworks could be dictated by global consensus rather than biblical conviction or democratic accountability.
Davos does not answer to voters. It does not campaign. It does not face term limits. Yet its fingerprints appear on climate mandates, ESG scoring systems, digital identity frameworks, and public-private partnerships that increasingly shape everyday life.
Beyond health and climate, the WEF has been accused of pushing toward other forms of global control: digital currencies controlled by central banks, digital ID systems tied to financial and social access, artificial intelligence governance frameworks, and coordinated censorship policies under the guise of combating "misinformation."
Each of these may be defensible in isolation. Taken together, they paint a picture of a world where access to money, movement, speech, and employment could one day hinge on compliance with global standards set far from the communities they affect.
For Christians who read Scripture seriously, this convergence is unsettling.