Why Davos.

Once a year, about three thousand of the world's most powerful people fly private aircraft into a Swiss ski town to talk about the climate. They also talk about trust, cooperation, resilience, growth, growth amid fragmentation, and fragmentation amid growth.

Very little of it survives contact with February. The real reason to pay attention to Davos isn't the plenary stage — it's the sidelines: the hotel lobby meeting, the walk down the Promenade, the deal cut over a $32 fondue that will actually move something in the world.

So we cover both. The plenary stage, so we can roast it. The sidelines, so you can use them.

The house rules

• Punch at the ritual. The private-jet climate panel. The badge hierarchy. The stakeholder-capitalism keynote sponsored by a hedge fund. Fair game.
• Never punch at the workers. Not the translators. Not the security staff. Not the policy people actually trying to move something. They're the ones we like.
• Eat the rich? Metaphorically. With a fondue fork. Over a very long dinner. We roast the ultra-wealth ritual; we do not endorse setting anything on fire — except a slice of gruyère.
• Receipts or it didn't happen. Every claim, tied to something real. If we can't back it up, we say so.

"We must ensure the future of work is inclusive," said the man whose Gulfstream idles on the tarmac at Dübendorf. Same, brother. Same.