At the World Governments Summit on February 3, in the main plenary hall during the session titled 'Decisions That Shape Future Governments,' global investor and Bridgewater Associates founder Ray Dalio offered a strikingly simple framework for understanding why some countries prosper while others stagnate. Speaking in conversation with CNBC anchor Dan Murphy, Dalio argued that national success depends on three fundamental conditions: an educated and civil population, an environment where people are free to work together creatively, and a sustained effort to avoid internal and international wars. Dalio was not presenting a political theory, nor was he addressing any one country. He was speaking as an investor who has spent decades studying economic cycles, governance systems, and national rise and decline. Yet his framework travels well - especially to countries like Nepal, which now stands at a decisive political moment ahead of the House of Representatives elections on March 5. The value of Dalio's argument lies in its clarity. It strips development of slogans and exposes its foundations. For Nepali voters, it offers a practical lens to evaluate political promises beyond campaign rhetoric. Dalio's first condition - an educated population - is often misunderstood. He did not speak merely of literacy rates, university degrees, or technical skills. He spoke of civility: a society capable of reasoned debate, mutual respect, and collective problem-solving. Nepal has made undeniable progress in expanding access to education over the past decades especially in the private sector. Schools and universities have multiplied, enrollment has increased, and formal literacy has improved. But education that does not cultivate critical thinking and civic responsibility produces limited returns. A society can be educated on paper and still remain politically immature. In recent years, Nepali public discourse has grown increasingly polarised. Misinformation spreads easily, and disagreement often slides into hostility. This is not a failure of democracy alone; it is a failure of civic education. A healthy democracy requires citizens who can disagree without dehumanising one another, who understand institutions, and who recognise that political opponents are not enemies. As election campaigns intensify, parties frequently promise economic growth and employment. Far fewer speak seriously about education as a civic institution. Yet no development agenda is sustainable if it does not invest in producing informed, thoughtful, and responsible citizens. An educated population is not a threat to political power; it is its most legitimate foundation. Dalio's second condition - an environment where educated people can work together creatively - speaks directly to Nepal's chronic economic frustrations. Nepal does not lack talent. It lacks space. Young professionals, entrepreneurs, researchers, and artists exist in abundance. What constrains them is not ambition but friction: regulatory uncertainty, bureaucratic delays, political interference, and systems that reward connections over competence. Too often, innovation is treated as something to be controlled rather than enabled. Economic growth does not emerge from command. It emerges from confidence - confidence that rules are predictable, that effort will be rewarded, and that collaboration will not be punished. Freedom in this sense is not ideological; it is administrative and institutional. It is about reducing unnecessary barriers and allowing people to solve problems together. For a country like Nepal, where resources are limited, human creativity is the most valuable asset. Any political force that claims to prioritise development must explain how it will expand this creative space rather than shrink it. Voters should be sceptical of platforms that promise prosperity while tightening control and multiplying obstacles. Dalio's third condition - avoiding war- may sound self-evident, but it is often underestimated. Conflict, whether internal or external, destroys more than infrastructure. It destroys trust, diverts public resources, and delays progress by generations. Nepal does not need abstract lessons on this point. Its own recent history illustrates how internal conflict can derail development and fracture society. The transition from armed conflict to a republican order was neither automatic nor cost-free. It was achieved through restraint, compromise, and a collective decision to prioritise peace. Yet peace cannot be taken for granted. Political polarisation, inflammatory rhetoric, and zero-sum competition all carry long-term costs. Stability is sometimes dismissed as complacency, but in reality it is productive. Investors, institutions, and citizens plan for the future only when they believe the ground beneath them is steady. Peace is not the absence of politics; it is the discipline of politics. It is the choice to manage disagreement through institutions rather than escalation. For a developing country, peace is among the most effective and least expensive development strategies available. Ray Dalio did not offer prescriptions or endorse political systems. He offered a framework. As Nepali voters prepare to cast their ballots on March 5, that framework provides a clear test. Does this party strengthen education in a way that produces civic maturity, not just certificates? Does it expand freedom for people to innovate, collaborate, and create value? Does it reduce conflict - social, political, and diplomatic - rather than exploit it for short-term gain? Elections decide who governs, but they also reveal what a society values. Prosperity is not built through speeches alone. It is built patiently, through investments in people, protections for freedom, and repeated choices for peace - even when those choices are politically inconvenient. Ray Dalio spoke as someone who measures risk and resilience for a living. Nepali voters, facing a consequential election, would do well to listen with the same clarity.