INTERNATIONAL
ASEAN’s perennial headache over digital scamming
People pose with the Association of Southeast Asian Nations (ASEAN) logo against the backdrop of Kuala Lumpur's skyline, ahead of the ASEAN Foreign Ministers' Meeting in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, July 8, 2025. REUTERS/Hasnoor Hussain
Southeast Asia is sliding toward an unwanted global reputation: the epicentre of digital scamming. Cambodia, Laos, and Myanmar have become fertile ground for syndicates that exploit weak governance, the desperation of workers, and the vulnerabilities of digital victims across the world.
What might appear to be an online threat is a sprawling criminal ecosystem. Fraud operations are tied to human trafficking, prostitution, and organised crime. The corrosion of local institutions in these states is now rippling into ASEAN’s collective credibility.
Scamming compounds are not ordinary offices filled with laptops. They are often guarded camps where trafficked men and women are forced into labour.
Many are lured with promises of legitimate jobs, only to be trapped and coerced into working as online fraudsters by day and, in many cases, into prostitution by night. Violence, debt bondage, and corruption sustain this cycle of exploitation.
Digital scamming must therefore be recognised not as a marginal digital offence, but as an absolute social harm—to the victims, to the host country, and to the global community at large. It corrodes the very moral foundations upon which societies depend.
The host nation, far from merely harbouring these operations, becomes morally and economically complicit in the crime. Every scam that escapes justice disfigures its national character, signalling to the world that criminal enrichment is more tolerable than ethical governance.
The reputational consequences are immense. As more international media expose these criminal hubs, ASEAN’s image as an emerging centre of digital innovation risks being replaced by one of exploitation and fraud.
Tourists and investors hesitate when countries appear unable—or unwilling—to tackle such abuses. Trust is lost not only in governments but in the region itself.
As long as scamming is perceived as a means to fast and easy money, the level of greed within segments of the profiteering class—politicians, business elites, and even national leaders—rises exponentially. Such moral corrosion blinds them to the very national interests they are sworn to protect.
History has repeatedly shown that nations thrive best in regions marked by peace, prosperity, and mutual trust. Yet when greed becomes the organising principle of governance, national interest becomes detached from regional interest. The state becomes a mechanism for enrichment rather than stewardship, and the social contract begins to collapse.
The scamming industry does not exist in isolation. It overlaps with human trafficking, drug smuggling, and money laundering. Bribes and kickbacks erode the integrity of law enforcement.
Officials look the other way, or worse, collaborate; the line between criminal cartels and local authorities blurs, leaving societies trapped in a vicious cycle of corruption and fear.
As a result, when a state loses sight of its national and regional responsibilities, the avaricious drive to prey on the vulnerable intensifies. This is the breeding ground for the expansion of the criminal economy—from online fraud and illegal gambling to trafficking and narcotics.
The profits from such activities may offer quick returns, but they come at the cost of legitimacy, sovereignty, and moral standing. Over time, institutions designed to serve the public good become captured by private interests.
Cambodia, Laos, and Myanmar are especially vulnerable. Weak institutions and endemic corruption create a fertile ground for criminal activity. Their relative isolation from global financial watchdogs reduces scrutiny, allowing illicit funds to circulate freely. Large populations of underemployed youth provide a steady stream of cheap, exploitable labour. Women are doubly victimised, caught in systems that commodify their bodies as much as their digital labour.
This is where ASEAN’s credibility is most at risk. The association cannot afford to be seen as indifferent or divided. If these crimes persist, the stain will not be confined to the Mekong sub-region. The entire bloc risks being branded as complicit in an economy of deceit, where greed is tolerated and ethics negotiable.
And once a country becomes identified as a host to these operations, it faces the inevitable backlash of its neighbours. Diplomatic isolation and mistrust become the new reality, as nearby states and external partners question its reliability. What begins as a toleration of “grey” criminal activity soon spirals into a diplomatic liability. The government, forced to defend its unethical permissiveness, finds itself entangled in perpetual damage control.
Such an outcome is not hypothetical. Already, reports of cybercrime centres operating under the protection of armed groups or complicit officials have strained bilateral relations and embarrassed ASEAN as a collective body. Regional summits speak of digital transformation, yet within the same geography, thousands remain enslaved by the very digital economy being celebrated.
To view cyber scamming merely as a policing issue would be a grave mistake. It is a political and moral crisis, rooted in governance failure and greed. For ASEAN, it threatens to erode one of its few remaining sources of strength—its claim to centrality. That principle depends not just on geography, but on trust. Once the region is seen as untrustworthy, ASEAN’s relevance in shaping the Indo-Pacific agenda diminishes sharply.
This challenge requires more than aspirational rhetoric. It demands a coordinated, institutional response.
Cyberfraud suppression must be bound to ASEAN’s integration agenda. Task forces must be empowered to freeze cross-border flows, trace cryptocurrency transactions, and dismantle trafficking networks.
Just as importantly, pathways must be built for victims—many of whom are coerced themselves—to exit safely and rebuild their lives.
Ultimately, digital scamming represents the moral unravelling of societies that confuse profit with progress. A country cannot claim digital innovation while allowing its people to be trafficked in its shadow. Nor can ASEAN claim people-centred development while tolerating the commodification of human beings.
If ASEAN fails, the region may soon be labelled the world’s scam-and-trafficking capital. That would erode trust in its economies, undermine its social fabric, and weaken its claim to moral leadership.
This is ASEAN’s perennial headache. But unlike others, it cannot be managed quietly. It must be confronted directly.
Only then can the region protect its reputation, its people, and its future from being consumed by an industry of exploitation.
______________________________________________________________________________________
Phar Kim Beng, PhD is Professor of ASEAN Studies and Director, Institute of International and ASEAN Studies (IINTAS)
Luthfy Hamzah is Research Fellow, Institute of International and ASEAN Studies (IINTAS)
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What might appear to be an online threat is a sprawling criminal ecosystem. Fraud operations are tied to human trafficking, prostitution, and organised crime. The corrosion of local institutions in these states is now rippling into ASEAN’s collective credibility.
Scamming compounds are not ordinary offices filled with laptops. They are often guarded camps where trafficked men and women are forced into labour.
Many are lured with promises of legitimate jobs, only to be trapped and coerced into working as online fraudsters by day and, in many cases, into prostitution by night. Violence, debt bondage, and corruption sustain this cycle of exploitation.
Digital scamming must therefore be recognised not as a marginal digital offence, but as an absolute social harm—to the victims, to the host country, and to the global community at large. It corrodes the very moral foundations upon which societies depend.
The host nation, far from merely harbouring these operations, becomes morally and economically complicit in the crime. Every scam that escapes justice disfigures its national character, signalling to the world that criminal enrichment is more tolerable than ethical governance.
The reputational consequences are immense. As more international media expose these criminal hubs, ASEAN’s image as an emerging centre of digital innovation risks being replaced by one of exploitation and fraud.
Tourists and investors hesitate when countries appear unable—or unwilling—to tackle such abuses. Trust is lost not only in governments but in the region itself.
As long as scamming is perceived as a means to fast and easy money, the level of greed within segments of the profiteering class—politicians, business elites, and even national leaders—rises exponentially. Such moral corrosion blinds them to the very national interests they are sworn to protect.
History has repeatedly shown that nations thrive best in regions marked by peace, prosperity, and mutual trust. Yet when greed becomes the organising principle of governance, national interest becomes detached from regional interest. The state becomes a mechanism for enrichment rather than stewardship, and the social contract begins to collapse.
The scamming industry does not exist in isolation. It overlaps with human trafficking, drug smuggling, and money laundering. Bribes and kickbacks erode the integrity of law enforcement.
Officials look the other way, or worse, collaborate; the line between criminal cartels and local authorities blurs, leaving societies trapped in a vicious cycle of corruption and fear.
As a result, when a state loses sight of its national and regional responsibilities, the avaricious drive to prey on the vulnerable intensifies. This is the breeding ground for the expansion of the criminal economy—from online fraud and illegal gambling to trafficking and narcotics.
The profits from such activities may offer quick returns, but they come at the cost of legitimacy, sovereignty, and moral standing. Over time, institutions designed to serve the public good become captured by private interests.
Cambodia, Laos, and Myanmar are especially vulnerable. Weak institutions and endemic corruption create a fertile ground for criminal activity. Their relative isolation from global financial watchdogs reduces scrutiny, allowing illicit funds to circulate freely. Large populations of underemployed youth provide a steady stream of cheap, exploitable labour. Women are doubly victimised, caught in systems that commodify their bodies as much as their digital labour.
This is where ASEAN’s credibility is most at risk. The association cannot afford to be seen as indifferent or divided. If these crimes persist, the stain will not be confined to the Mekong sub-region. The entire bloc risks being branded as complicit in an economy of deceit, where greed is tolerated and ethics negotiable.
And once a country becomes identified as a host to these operations, it faces the inevitable backlash of its neighbours. Diplomatic isolation and mistrust become the new reality, as nearby states and external partners question its reliability. What begins as a toleration of “grey” criminal activity soon spirals into a diplomatic liability. The government, forced to defend its unethical permissiveness, finds itself entangled in perpetual damage control.
Such an outcome is not hypothetical. Already, reports of cybercrime centres operating under the protection of armed groups or complicit officials have strained bilateral relations and embarrassed ASEAN as a collective body. Regional summits speak of digital transformation, yet within the same geography, thousands remain enslaved by the very digital economy being celebrated.
To view cyber scamming merely as a policing issue would be a grave mistake. It is a political and moral crisis, rooted in governance failure and greed. For ASEAN, it threatens to erode one of its few remaining sources of strength—its claim to centrality. That principle depends not just on geography, but on trust. Once the region is seen as untrustworthy, ASEAN’s relevance in shaping the Indo-Pacific agenda diminishes sharply.
This challenge requires more than aspirational rhetoric. It demands a coordinated, institutional response.
Cyberfraud suppression must be bound to ASEAN’s integration agenda. Task forces must be empowered to freeze cross-border flows, trace cryptocurrency transactions, and dismantle trafficking networks.
Just as importantly, pathways must be built for victims—many of whom are coerced themselves—to exit safely and rebuild their lives.
Ultimately, digital scamming represents the moral unravelling of societies that confuse profit with progress. A country cannot claim digital innovation while allowing its people to be trafficked in its shadow. Nor can ASEAN claim people-centred development while tolerating the commodification of human beings.
If ASEAN fails, the region may soon be labelled the world’s scam-and-trafficking capital. That would erode trust in its economies, undermine its social fabric, and weaken its claim to moral leadership.
This is ASEAN’s perennial headache. But unlike others, it cannot be managed quietly. It must be confronted directly.
Only then can the region protect its reputation, its people, and its future from being consumed by an industry of exploitation.
______________________________________________________________________________________
Phar Kim Beng, PhD is Professor of ASEAN Studies and Director, Institute of International and ASEAN Studies (IINTAS)
Luthfy Hamzah is Research Fellow, Institute of International and ASEAN Studies (IINTAS)