Lessons from the slopes: Davos man is lost so what hope for the rest of us?

Well, we learned that the eurozone patient has been given a massive dose of painkillers by the European Central Bank but talk of a cure is woefully premature. The optimistic blustering of bankers at the beginning of the week about a corner having been turned quickly gave way to gloom after Angela Merkel's negative opening address. The German chancellor said the answer is "more Europe" but her body language suggested she wished it would all just go away. Was this the saviour of the eurozone speaking, delegates asked themselves. Few came away reassured. "These politicians - Sarkozy, Merkel - are too concerned with getting re-elected to do what is necessary," Oleg Deripaska, the Russian aluminium magnate complained to me.

Greece was on the minds of many. Was a deal on debt restructuring really imminent? Should the European Central Bank take a haircut on its Greek bond holdings? Was Germany's apparent bid to control the Greek budget a necessary step, or disastrous over-reach? No one - not politicians, officials or bankers - could provide a convincing answer to any of these questions. Despite the insistence of the politicians present that Greece would be a special case, there were gloomy private predictions from several quarters that Portugal would be next to need debt forgiveness.

Davos taught us that capitalism is in crisis (with news of record unemployment in Spain filtering through to the conference on the same day as confirmation of Stephen Hester's bonus - which he has now rejected), but that no one, not even the Occupy protesters in their igloo camp, have a clear idea of what to replace the system with. One Occupy member who was invited to take part in a panel on the subject tried to get the audience to provide their own answers. The audience said that they'd rather hear from the panel. We learned at Davos that a big liberalisation of world trade would be a boost to flagging global growth but that it's not going to happen. Pascal Lamy, the head of the World Trade Organisation, admitted as much. World Bank chief Robert Zoellick even warned of protectionist forces stirring.

We learned that the super-rich think that philanthropy is a good thing and are worried about rising inequality. However, we also found out that they still don't want to pay more tax. One participant at the Confederation for British Industry dinner harangued Chancellor of the Exchequer George Osborne about the unfairness of the UK's 50p tax rate.

Some were less than impressed with the charity talk from the super-rich too. "They always talk about philanthropy when they're under pressure, it's really just a smokescreen" one well-connected Davos veteran told me.

But was Davos useful in a practical sense? The World Economic Forum organisers claim Davos enables politicians to meet in a convivial and neutral setting and lay the groundwork for diplomatic breakthroughs. But one UK government minister had a more sceptical take: "You can meet a lot of people who you normally wouldn't bother travelling to meet."

And how about the private sector? Did "Davos man" - the hyper-connected, super-confident, global business leader - have a productive time, locating promising new investment opportunities? The general feeling seemed to be that there is simply too much uncertainty out there (mainly thanks to the eurozone mess), to strike any big deals. Money is hunkering down for safety.

There was the usual confident talk about the investment opportunities arising from the economic expansion of Asia and the internationalisation of China's yuan. But this felt more like a security blanket for the economic movers and shakers of Davos than genuine bullishness.

As the conference wound down, one business delegate blundered into a lift where some of the congress centre's catering staff were wrestling with a trolley. "Where am I?" he asked, a little desperately. Yes, Davos man is lost. What hope, then, for the rest of us?