In the rarified air of Davos, where the world’s most self-important hypocrites gather to solve problems they largely created, Hong Kong’s Financial Secretary Paul Chan Mo-po has emerged from his gilded cocoon to hawk a particularly pungent brand of digital snake oil. The annual World Economic Forum—a grotesque circus of private jets and performative empathy—provided the perfect backdrop for Chan to promote Hong Kong’s ‘responsible and sustainable’ digital asset regime. It is a masterful exercise in linguistic gymnastics, the kind of phrase that sounds impressive until you realize it’s functionally identical to describing a 'healthy and nutritious' brand of high-fructose corn syrup.

Chan’s opening remarks at a closed-door workshop—because nothing says 'transparency' like a secret meeting behind guarded doors—centered on the idea that finance and technology are ‘mutually reinforcing.’ It is a tired, vapid cliché that ignores the reality of the situation: finance and technology are currently engaged in a frantic, symbiotic embrace of desperation. The traditional financial systems of the world are decaying under the weight of their own corruption, and the tech sector is more than happy to provide the digital shovels to bury the evidence. In Chan’s view, a ‘balanced approach’ is needed. In my view, ‘balance’ is what politicians call it when they are trying to please the billionaire donors who want deregulation while simultaneously placating the bureaucratic scolds who want a piece of the action.

The irony of discussing ‘sustainability’ in the context of digital assets while standing in a Swiss ski resort that is slowly losing its snow to the very climate change Davos attendees accelerate is almost too rich to stomach. Chan spoke of digital assets enhancing transparency and strengthening risk management. This is a fascinating take on a sector that is essentially a high-tech casino built on a foundation of faith, memes, and the hope that there is always a bigger idiot downstream. To speak of 'risk management' in a market where a single tweet or a regulatory whim can wipe out billions is the height of intellectual dishonesty. It is the political equivalent of wearing a seatbelt on a kamikaze flight and claiming you’ve revolutionized aviation safety.

The move to position Hong Kong as a ‘Web3 hub’ is a transparently desperate attempt to reclaim a global relevance that is rapidly slipping through the city’s fingers. Having spent years systematically dismantling the very things that made it a unique financial gateway, the administration is now pivoting to digital magic beans. They want the world to believe that you can build a stable, ‘responsible’ ecosystem for the most volatile assets in human history, all while maintaining a 'closed-door' policy on the actual mechanics of how power is exercised. It’s a performance of competence designed to distract from the reality of a city that is increasingly becoming a satellite of a larger, more rigid machine.

On one side of this absurdity, we have the Davos Left—the social-impact-investing crowd who will nod sagely at the word ‘sustainable’ while ignoring the massive energy consumption required to keep these digital ledgers ticking over. On the other, we have the Right—the crypto-evangelists and finance ghouls who see ‘responsible regulation’ as a hurdle to be cleared only until they can find a new way to exploit the public. Both sides are fundamentally the same: they are addicted to the idea that some new technological trick will allow them to keep the party going without ever having to address the rot at the core of the global economy. Paul Chan is merely the latest croupier at the table, spinning the wheel and telling us that this time, the house is playing for the benefit of the players.

To listen to Chan, one would think that Hong Kong has discovered a magical middle path where volatility is tamed and speculation is somehow virtuous. But there is no virtue in the digital asset market, only varying degrees of greed and gullibility. By slapping the label ‘responsible’ on it, the Hong Kong administration is attempting to institutionalize the chaos, to give the grift the veneer of respectability. It is a sad, predictable play. As the elites in Davos continue their hollow discussions, the rest of the world is left to watch as the ‘digital asset regime’ becomes just another layer of the global financial shell game—a game where the rules are rewritten in real-time by the very people who claim to be protecting us from the fallout.