The WEF Annual Summit: Where Good PR Goes To Die

Why is Klaus Blofeld's World Economic Forum such a public relations disaster?

I'm one of the people in the Dissident Right who get accused of obsessing over the ‘‘low-hanging fruit’’ of the World Economic Forum, Klaus Schwab and Bill Gates. In actual fact, my milking of the WEF content cow amounts to one MorgCast where I investigated what was meant by the phrase ‘‘Internet of Bodies’’ and I mentioned them in an essay about stakeholder capitalism.

However, critics of conspiracy theorists do have a point. The WEF is cringe and Klaus Schwab is a meme, a literal Bond villain right out in the open. The reason for this is because they produce promotional material with titles such as ‘‘The Internet of Bodies’’ which conjures mental images of body-hammer and the now infamous ‘‘You'll own nothing and you'll be happy’’.

As I write, the 2022 WEF shindig is in full swing and I've seen well-suited elites in Davos tell us they're rethinking free speech, again. Another member of the elite class then smugly announced the development of personalized carbon foot-print trackers was well underway, while Klaus Blofeld himself proudly declared that they're building the future for us, whether we want them to or not. And that isn't even to mention the goblin guy who wants to hack humans.

The World Economic Forum annual summit, then, is where good PR goes to die. Indeed, the WEF's history of public relations is so awful some people believe it's being done deliberately to take attention away from Zionist power in America. Again, it's an idea worth entertaining, because I for one am at a loss as to why a powerful network of politicians and ‘‘public-private partners’’ would be so determined to offer up such a plethora of dystopian imagery, contempt for the masses and liberalism itself.

My Telegram feed is currently awash in small video clips of extremely powerful people casually, enthusiastically - describing how the plebeian cattle will face a future of mass surveillance, chipping, social credit systems and owning nothing but being happy.

Have managerial elites always been like this? I don't think so.

Imagine a purely hypothetical scenario wherein Paul Wolfowitz mounted the podium at the AIPAC conference in 1999 and gushed:

‘‘Shalom, my brothers. In just two years from now that magical event will take place in New York which will set in motion the final defeat of glorious Israel's enemies in the Middle East!’’

The Build Back Better campaign was another World Economic Forum clunker. Out of the blue, every politician and celebrity suddenly began incessantly repeating the phrase at every opportunity. Superficially the BBB slogan offered hope for a better tomorrow to the masses as they spent months in lockdown watching Netflix. In reality many of the masses began asking why all their leaders were manically parroting this moronic soundbite, which appeared more like them signalling a secret code to each other rather than giving inspiration to the public.

Needless to say, when your public relations strategy amounts to:

‘‘We're evil and we're going to enslave you and rule the world as Gods’’

It isn't unreasonable to expect to be met with some mild forms of disagreement. Luckily for the WEF then, that they now appear to have their own police force which, predictably, then became yet another meme on social media.

Yet the original question returns: why does such an influential network of people who obsess over narrative and slick representation have the worst public relations management imaginable?

Who on earth gives the green light to slogans and messaging which seem designed to antagonize and rile-up masses of social media personalities and content creators, who then in turn crank out videos and articles read and viewed by millions, all of whom are now in opposition to the WEF Agenda?

I'm reminded of serious political dramas such as The West Wing which detailed the behind-the-scenes micromanagement and perception trickery of PR teams in politics. There's many a scene featuring a spin doctor enacting the ‘‘cut’’ hand gesture across the throat when a politician is wearing a striped tie instead of a plain tie. Data analysts preferred plain ties before some audiences and striped ties before others.

Somebody somewhere signed off on Libaba Group president J. Michael Evans gushing over technology which will monitor what everybody eats... didn't they?

People will point out that the WEF is mainly just a talking shop for managerial elites without the power to implement policy. However, Schwab himself, in yet another PR gaffe, proudly boasted that his young Global Leaders had infiltrated governmental institutions across the world.

A more common explanation for the WEF's complete disregard for how the general public perceive them is that the masses simply don't pay attention. This may well have been true at the beginning of the Covid crisis, but it's hardly the case now when memes depicting Schwab in his weird Masonic style costume are familiar to almost everyone.

Perhaps the Occam's Razor explanation provides the simplest and soundest answer: they just don't care.

To subvert the question itself we can ask: why do we think they should care?

Our embedded liberalism assumes that powerful people are, in some way, accountable to the wider public and should worry about our concerns, and respect our wishes. However, if the powerful suddenly decide those liberal values are themselves relics of a dying world which must be replaced, we have serious problems because they no longer have to pay lip service to them.

Mulling this over I've recently been reminded of the countless hours I frittered away playing video games in my youth. Often you'd come to possess a cheat-code which ensured your character could no longer be killed, resulting in any constraints the game placed upon you being removed. After the initial glee at being able to see and do everything within the world, you'd slide into a nihilistic and destructive mode. Why not wipe out all the villagers if the guards could no longer capture you? Why bother collecting coins or special weapons if you could already defeat any enemy?

Curiously this ‘‘End of Game Hubris’’ was also to be seen in strategy games such as Civilization and SimCity. In late game Civilization you may well control the entire map, but climate change was going to be a problem regardless. In SimCity the tedium of playing God was also alleviated late-game by the introduction of random catastrophes befalling your technically perfect creation. The realism was thrown out and in came Godzilla and randomly generated volcanoes or UFO invasions.

It would appear that even Gods are prone to nihilism and hubris...

Here’s the video ramble version