The Group of Seven (G7), once the undisputed steward of the global economic order, finds itself navigating an unfamiliar terrain. Designed during an era of Western economic supremacy, the G7’s influence once stemmed from sheer size, ideological unity, and institutional reach. That era has passed. If it wishes to avoid sliding into obsolescence, it must shift its approach—from one of prescribing norms to one of co-producing them, especially in areas like artificial intelligence (AI), climate change, and engagement with the Global South.
The numbers tell a stark story. In 1975, G7 nations accounted for roughly 70% of global GDP. That figure has since fallen below 30%, and their share of the global population is even smaller. The emergence of new economic centers—from China and India to Southeast Asia, Africa, and the Gulf—has eroded the G7’s structural dominance. Nowhere is this more apparent than in global trade.
The G7 has historically championed free markets and multilateralism. Yet recent summits have been marked by internal disputes over tariffs, friend-shoring, and supply chain security. These policies, ostensibly designed to reduce dependencies, often look like thinly veiled protectionism. They risk triggering retaliatory measures and fracturing global commerce further. While concerns over overreliance on specific countries are legitimate, retreating into narrowly defined economic blocs only reinforces the fragmentation that the G7 was created to counter.
The geopolitical landscape is no more forgiving. From the war in Ukraine to the crisis in Gaza and the rising tensions between Iran and Israel, global conflict zones now sprawl across regions where the G7 has diminishing leverage. Sanctions, statements, and arms packages can only go so far. The realities of multipolarity mean that resolution requires diplomatic coalitions that include non-G7 powers—India, Brazil, Turkey, the GCC states, and even China and Russia where possible. The assumption that the G7 can manage global stability from the top down no longer holds. In many of today’s crises, the G7 is no longer the table at which final decisions are made but one of several competing forums.
Artificial intelligence, perhaps the defining technological shift of the century, illustrates the challenge in sharp relief. G7 members are global leaders in AI research and commercial development. The economic structure of the AI industry, with its high fixed costs, centralized data assets, and self-reinforcing feedback loops, lends itself to monopolization. Unless carefully governed, a small cluster of firms, largely based in North America and Europe, may end up controlling not only markets but also the norms and narratives that define democratic processes and civil liberties worldwide.
The G7’s opportunity lies in coordinating common standards across borders, enforcing ethical norms that protect human dignity, and investing in AI capacity building for countries left out of the initial innovation wave. A more inclusive framework—perhaps via an expanded G20 or a new global governance body—would better reflect the distribution of risks and opportunities.
Climate and energy policy present similar dilemmas. The G7 has repeatedly declared its intention to accelerate decarbonization and support the green transition. Yet in 2023, its members reached record levels of fossil fuel subsidies, raising questions about credibility. Meanwhile, the pledge to provide $100 billion annually in climate finance to developing countries remains unmet. The result is a deepening trust deficit. For countries facing the worst effects of climate change—rising seas, collapsing harvests, infrastructure strain—rhetoric is no substitute for actual capital.
This shortfall also obscures a major opportunity. The Global South is not merely a recipient of aid or a source of raw materials; it is a prospective hub for green industrialization. Africa and Latin America possess the solar and wind potential, demographic dynamism, and mineral wealth necessary for clean tech expansion. Instead of extracting resources and exporting emissions, G7 countries should co-invest in renewable manufacturing, skills development, and technology transfer. That would reduce global emissions while creating jobs and future-proofed economies in regions where population growth is highest.
A similar logic applies to the Gulf Cooperation Council. The GCC nations are rich in hydrocarbons but also capital and ambition. They are increasingly serious about hydrogen, solar, and carbon capture technologies. The G7 would do well to partner with them, not preach to them. Joint R&D, co-financed infrastructure, and coordinated transition strategies could turn the region into a laboratory for post-oil prosperity. It would also signal that the G7 is ready to collaborate on equal footing with non-Western powers who share overlapping interests.
The G7’s institutional reflexes, its preference for internal consensus, high-level communiqués, and exclusionary design, must evolve. It must listen more than it lectures and co-develop rather than dictate. That means opening structured dialogues with blocs like the African Union and ASEAN, engaging with AI governance efforts emerging from the Global South, and backing reforms that make international institutions more representative.
There remains a role for the G7—but not as a hegemonic council. Instead, its best chance at influence lies in being a convener of coalitions, a guarantor of standards, and a broker of shared progress. If it adapts to this role, it can still shape the rules of the 21st century. If not, others will. In today’s fractured order, power flows not to those who hold the most, but to those who build the broadest bridges.
