A summit without unity, a club without purpose—the 2025 G7 in Canada revealed just how irrelevant this exclusive forum has become in today’s multipolar world.
As the dust settles on the 2025 G7 Summit in Kananaskis, Alberta, the absence of a final communiqué says more than any carefully worded statement ever could. This was a gathering designed to showcase unity and leadership, yet it ended in dissonance and diplomatic drift. The harsh truth is this: the G7 has become an increasingly irrelevant forum, built on outdated assumptions in a world that has decisively moved beyond its post-war architecture.
Fifty years ago, the G7 was born of necessity, not nostalgia. It was a strategic gathering of the world’s richest economies, intended to coordinate economic policy amid the shocks of the 1970s. In 2025, it is a ritualised photo-op that excludes most of the world’s growth engines while pretending to set the global agenda. This year’s summit—hosted with much fanfare by Canadian Prime Minister Mark Carney—only highlighted how out of step the G7 is with contemporary geopolitical and economic realities.

It’s time to ask not how the G7 can be saved, but whether it should exist at all

A Stage without a Script

Despite grand proclamations about energy security, AI innovation, and global prosperity, the summit was ultimately defined by discord and absence. The lack of a final communiqué is not just a diplomatic footnote; it’s a symbolic collapse of consensus. What was meant to be a demonstration of unity in uncertain times instead exposed the G7’s diminished influence and internal fracture.

Nothing underscored this more than former President Donald Trump’s abrupt departure. Officially, he left due to “urgent matters” in the Middle East. Unofficially, his departure was a snub to an institution he sees as irrelevant. Skipping crucial talks on Ukraine and sanctions on Russia, Trump floated the idea of reincorporating Russia—and even China—into the group. His remarks were not just a provocation, but an indictment: the G7 cannot effectively discuss global affairs while deliberately sidelining key players.

It’s hard to argue with his logic. The G7 used to be the G8, until Russia was expelled following its annexation of Crimea. That expulsion gutted the G7’s capacity to act meaningfully on global conflicts that now often involve or are shaped by Moscow. Excluding Beijing, meanwhile—the world’s second-largest economy—further reduces the summit’s credibility. Simply put, you can’t manage the world by ignoring half of it.

The Arrogance of Exclusivity

What purpose does the G7 serve when the BRICS+ bloc (Brazil, Russia, India, China, South Africa—and now expanded to include countries like Egypt, Indonesia, Vietnam and more 12 other nations) represents more of the world’s population, GDP growth, and geopolitical momentum?

This year, G7 leaders pledged to secure “partnerships of the future” and boost investment in infrastructure. Yet, outside their closed circle, much of the world is already forging ahead with alternative alignments. China’s Belt and Road Initiative, India’s assertive diplomacy, and regional partnerships across Africa, Asia and Latin America are reshaping global power distribution.

The G7, in contrast, has become a diplomatic echo chamber. Repeating the same values of “rules-based order” and “shared prosperity” while failing to evolve or expand its membership reveals not cohesion, but stagnation.

Moreover, the summit’s setting—in the isolated Canadian Rockies, on Indigenous Treaty 7 land—felt both physically and symbolically removed from the urgent realities facing the Global South. Climate change, debt crises, vaccine equity, migration, and digital inequality were footnotes, not focal points. The very people most affected by global instability were once again excluded from the table.

Canada’s Missed Opportunity

As this year’s host, Canada had a chance to redefine the G7’s role. Prime Minister Carney could have used the summit to push for meaningful outreach to emerging economies, rethinking the bloc’s structure or broadening its scope. Instead, we got more of the same: performative unity, rhetorical flourishes, and a communiqué that never materialised.

Minister Maninder Sidhu’s separate meeting with trade ministers did little to salvage the bigger picture. While reaffirming commitment to the “rules-based order”, he failed to address the elephant in the room: the rules no longer serve the multipolar world we live in. The real action—whether in trade, technology, or energy—is taking place outside G7 circles, as in the BRICS or the St. Petersburg International Economic Forum (SPIEF).

A Club No One Wants to Join?

Ultimately, the G7’s failure to produce a common statement reflects a deeper problem: no one knows what the club stands for anymore. It is not democratic—India, Indonesia, and Nigeria are left out. It is not strictly economic—China and Saudi Arabia outpace some G7 members. Furthermore, it is certainly not united, as seen by Trump’s walkout and intra-European disagreements.

As global crises multiply—from wars to climate catastrophes—the need for effective multilateralism is clear. But that multilateralism must reflect the real world, not the nostalgic vision of the 1970s. The G7 is trying to be a lighthouse in a storm, but it’s built on a rock that is no longer relevant to the ships passing by.

Unless it reforms, expands, or dissolves, the G7 is destined to become an annual reminder of Western decline, rather than a platform for global leadership.

It’s time to ask not how the G7 can be saved, but whether it should exist at all.

Ricardo Martins ‒PhD in Sociology, specializing in policies, European and world politics and geopolitics