A “Rupture”: Was This the Right Diagnosis, at the Right Time?

Prime Minister Mark Carney’s speech in Davos left a strong impression. In calling the current global dynamics a “rupture” rather than a mere transition, he crystallized the unease that many share about the weakening of the multilateral world order and renewed open rivalry between great powers. His call for greater collaboration between the middle powers was rational and compelling.

But no matter how powerful a vision is, it will only hold up if its concrete implications are clear. And on closer examination, the speech at Davos does contain some ambiguities that ultimately weaken its impact.

The first is an unresolved tension between the principles it espouses and the operational choices it excuses. Invoking Václav Havel’s “living in truth” while entering into a strategic partnership with China is certainly a bold choice: Havel, it should be remembered, was an outspoken critic of totalitarian regimes built on institutionalized falsehood. But the problem here isn’t that Carney is embracing pragmatism (even at the cost of some contradictions), it’s that there are no explicit red lines. Which sectors will be excluded from Chinese investment? Which technologies are deemed sensitive? On which security issues does Canada intend to uphold a principled stance? This agreement with China opens the door to bilateral investment in critical sectors, including energy, while US national security strategy explicitly aims to keep hostile foreign actors out of the Western Hemisphere. Can Canada denounce the “transactionalism” of powerful nations while still being, for all intents and purposes, a willing participant with no clear boundaries?

The second is Carney’s diagnosis of the situation. Qualifying the current period as a “rupture” assumes that the United States has taken an irreversible turn towards unilateralism. Surely, this assumption calls for some nuance. Donald Trump will be leaving the White House in a few years, and American institutions, strained as they are, continue to serve as checks on his power. The economic facts also call for a more measured assessment of the situation: global trade peaked in 2025, and despite a depressed geopolitical climate, no major economy has entered a recession.

This does not mean the risks should be underestimated. Responsible strategy should factor in the possibility that the United States will periodically seek to assert its dominance. Canada is right to want to diversify its partnerships and reduce certain dependencies. But there’s a difference between building strategic resilience and leaping to the conclusion that North American multilateralism is gone for good. Over‑committing to one scenario—in this case, a permanent breakdown in the world order—exposes Canada to costly errors and compromises that may be difficult to defend.

Finally, the speech was repeatedly vague on the timelines for some of these promises. This began well before Davos, though. Many of Carney’s stated ambitions, including more than doubling defence spending, similarly expanding electric capacity and building industrial autonomy, have timelines that span several decades. The previous promise of 500,000 annual housing starts has already proved to be utopian. As for the $500B in private investment that Canada’s most recent budget claims it will attract, this hope seems to be founded on the questionable assumption that simply “being on the right side” will attract foreign capital. But for years now, even major Canadian pension funds have been reluctant to invest further at home. In short, achieving even half of these ambitions will require lengthy, politically difficult structural reforms and sustained mobilization over 20 to 30 years. By omitting this fact, Carney may fuel unrealistic expectations and avoid the debate on the collective costs and sacrifices it would take to succeed. A credible vision should embrace these truths to avoid losing support down the road. Because this would, unfortunately, not be a first failure in execution.

So what can be done? The diagnosis pronounced at Davos is largely sound: The world is changing, and Canada needs to adapt. But there is a distance that must be filled between this diagnosis and the prescription being offered. First, Canada must explicitly define its red lines in terms of economic and technological security. Second, it must appropriately calibrate the risks surrounding its partnerships with great powers. Third, it must abandon the idea of instant, sweeping change and adopt a phased, multi‑decade plan with measurable interim targets and clearly prioritized reforms. Between the inspiring vision and the actionable plan, there is one cardinal virtue we must not allow to weaken: rigour. Time to take the sign out of the window.