← Back to Library

Interpreting the carney doctrine

Luke Savage cuts through the polite euphemisms of the World Economic Forum to deliver a stinging diagnosis: the global order we were told was built on rules was, in practice, a fiction designed to mask raw power. While most commentators are busy praising the candor of Canadian Prime Minister Mark Carney, Savage argues that this honesty is merely the first step in a dangerous pivot toward a new, untested realism that may ultimately replicate the very injustices it claims to oppose.

The Collapse of the Liberal Mirage

Savage begins by dismantling the comforting narrative that the international system is a neutral arbiter. He notes that Carney’s speech was notable precisely because it abandoned the "vaporous meliorism" typical of Davos for a language of blunt realism. Savage writes, "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." This admission is powerful because it comes from a central figure of the establishment, lending gravity to decades of criticism from the global south and the left. By acknowledging that the system was a "shimmering artifice of norms and institutions designed to give a sheen of legitimacy to the self-interest of powerful states," Carney inadvertently validated the view that the old order was never truly about justice.

Interpreting the carney doctrine

However, Savage warns that simply exposing the lie is not enough if the replacement is just a more honest version of the same transactional logic. He argues that the current crisis is not just about one leader's behavior but the structural failure of the neoliberal model that preceded it. As Savage puts it, "What we are really seeing... is longstanding tendencies of the American state stripped of artifice; rendered finally without any pretence to idealism or the public interest; expressed as a politics of pure plutocratic transaction on the domestic front and the belligerent exercise of raw imperial power abroad." This framing is crucial because it shifts the blame from individual personality to the underlying economic engine that drives both the old consensus and its current unraveling. Critics might argue that this analysis is too deterministic, ignoring the genuine diplomatic efforts of nations trying to navigate these waters, but Savage insists the structural incentives are too strong to ignore.

The fiction was useful. And 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.

The Trap of "Values-Based Realism"

The core of Savage's critique targets the proposed solution: "values-based realism." Carney, citing Finnish President Alexander Stubb, suggests a path that is both principled and pragmatic. Savage acknowledges the appeal of this approach but remains deeply skeptical of its execution. He writes, "In the posited clash between enlightened values and the pragmatic pursuit of national self-interest, it's clear that the second will almost always eclipse the first unless the values in question are anchored on much firmer ground." This is the piece's most vital warning: without a fundamental shift in economic priorities, "pragmatism" will simply become a euphemism for abandoning human rights when they become inconvenient.

Savage points to the Canadian government's own actions as evidence of this fragility. He notes that despite the rhetoric of defiance, the administration has "relentlessly sought conciliation and cooperation" with the executive branch, even as it spoke of forging new partnerships. He highlights a disturbing pattern: "Now, our actions are presented as purely transactional, driven by a narrow calculus of national interest that accepts morally uncomfortable trade-offs if they advance concrete strategic goals." This observation strikes at the heart of the policy's viability. If a nation's foreign policy is driven by the same market forces that eroded democracy at home, the result will be a "conservative realpolitik" rather than a moral reset.

The author argues that the current economic model, characterized by deregulation and financialized growth, has "steadily funnelled wealth upwards while extending the market's talons into virtually every area of public and private life." This context is essential for understanding why the old order failed and why a new one might fail too. Savage contends that "societies cannot cohere or function if their foundational logic is one of rapacious competition, and no internationalism will be viable or morally sound if it is just a partly sublimated form of the same." This is a bold claim that challenges the reader to consider whether the problem is the system itself, not just the people running it.

The Need for a Radical Reset

Savage concludes by urging a move beyond the binary choice between the old liberal consensus and the new neo-Hobbesian chaos. He suggests that the end of US hegemony offers a unique opportunity to build something more durable, drawing on the ideals of the post-1945 settlement that were often unfulfilled but remain relevant. He writes, "The end of US imperial hegemony, however, offers a clear — and potentially unprecedented — opportunity to develop something far more durable and ambitious." This is the most hopeful note in the piece, suggesting that the crisis is also a chance for reinvention.

However, Savage is clear that this reinvention requires more than just new trade deals or diplomatic coalitions. It demands a fundamental change in how nations govern themselves. He warns that "escaping this dangerous cul-de-sac will require profound changes in how countries such as Canada conduct themselves." The author argues that the conflict between neoliberalism and populism has become "steadily more explosive," and that the only way out is to address the root causes of social disruption and material precarity. Without this, any new international order will simply be a "more flexible kind of multilateralism that suffers from many of the same problems."

Trumpism and neoliberal globalism might be adversaries, but what drives them forward is also mutually reinforcing.

Bottom Line

Savage's most compelling contribution is his refusal to celebrate Carney's honesty without questioning the economic foundations that make such honesty necessary. The argument's greatest strength is its insistence that foreign policy cannot be separated from domestic economic justice. Its vulnerability lies in the difficulty of translating this radical critique into a concrete political strategy that can actually displace the current momentum of transactional realpolitik. Readers should watch to see if the "values-based realism" touted by middle powers can ever transcend the very market logic that Savage identifies as the root of the crisis.

Sources

Interpreting the carney doctrine

by Luke Savage · · Read full article

This post is unpaywalled. If you enjoy it and have the means, please consider becoming a paid subscriber to support my work.

Mark Carney’s speech at the World Economic Forum in Davos this week has already generated a flurry of media commentary, the vast majority of which — at least from what I’ve seen — has ranged from positive to gushing. Given the speech’s content, this deluge is unsurprising and, to some extent, it’s also perfectly justified. For as long as most of us have been alive, the default register at international gatherings like the WEF has been one of vaporous meliorism. Much is signified but very little is said.

Carney’s address, in contrast, said a great deal and traded the standard bafflegab of liberal geopolitics for a language of candour and blunt realism. Its substance aside, I think this is one reason the speech has earned such a warm reception. Carney, in contrast to both the raw power rhetoric of Donald Trump and the limp triangulation European elites have offered in response to it, communicated in a tenor of grandness and statesmanship; one that suggests states still possess agency, and that international affairs can be something other than a clash of competing vanities.

In what was certainly the most striking (and, in my own circles, the most talked about) part of the speech, he also saw fit to include a critique of what the now-defunct liberal consensus actually meant in practice:

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 varying rigour depending on the identity of the accused or the victim. This fiction was useful. And 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.

These are, to say the least, not the sentiments one generally hears uttered from a lectern in Davos. And, when it comes to the speech’s reception, there is clearly something of an “only Nixon could go to China” logic at work. That the messenger here is Mark Carney — an ur figure of liberal globalism and finance capital ...