Dithering at Davos?

The World Economic Forum has, of course, a most lofty aim - improving the state of the world. And this year, as if that wasn't ambitious enough, another slogan has been tagged on to the end "rethink, redesign, rebuild."

I'm sure Haiti's population will be comforted to know that, thousands of miles away in the snowy Alps, some of the richest people on the planet are getting together to talk about rebuilding.

So what is Davos really like? That's what friends ask me when I come back. And the reason they are so curious is because ordinary people simply have no chance of ever attending the forum.

It's a high security, invitation-only-event and the center of Davos is closed to everyone else. So to answer the question, what's it really like? - it's quite surreal, an event of the most bizarre contrasts.

When I go Davos, the last stage of the journey is made in a little red alpine train. It winds its way through the snow, past charming wooden chalets, lights winking in the winter darkness. Normally this train is full of schoolchildren going home, or skiers returning from the slopes - but not during the week of the forum. Now I'm surrounded by people with designer suitcases, yelling into their mobile phones about 'doing breakfast' or 'setting up some face time.'

Davos days are always busy for journalists. There are dozens of prime ministers, chief executives of multi-nationals, chairmen of banks, heads of think tanks, even celebrities. So who to try to interview is always a big question.

In fact, the question we should be asking ourselves is ‘what are these people likely to say?' Because the harsh reality is, very few major policy announcements are made at Davos. Politicians tend to prefer making them on home ground, and if any international negotiations take place, they are usually conducted behind firmly closed doors.

Business as usual

The highlight of Davos is always the keynote speaker - generally a major political figure. This year it is France's president Nicolas Sarkozy. Now this year, I must reveal, I won't be there, but I can predict what it will be like.

Mr Sarkozy will speak to an audience of the bronzed, the blow-dried, the facelifted, and the overfed. He'll address in some tenuous way the 'rebuild' theme of this year's forum - bets are on he'll mention Haiti. But he's unlikely to say anything radical, unexpected, or offer any firm commitments.

After that, everyone will go to lunch. It's hard not to feel cynical - and I'm surprised at how many charities and non-governmental organizations have the optimism to come to Davos year after year.

"These are after all the world's most powerful people," one aid worker tells me. "If they make poverty or climate change an issue here, we see that as a commitment."

Well, let's wait and see - firm decisions are rarely taken at Davos, and when the five-day forum winds up on January 31, and the designer suits and fur coats disappear from the streets, the little red train will take more than its fair share of millionaires back down the valley. Soon this village will return to its usual alpine quiet, and the only visitors will be the skiers.

Author: Imogen Foulkes

Editor: Neil King