The UN’s AI Panel aims to gather experts to assess risks and offer guidance. Yet its mandate is broad, its structure vague and its political context tangled. The UN already juggles climate, development and peacekeeping — can it steer AI governance without slowing innovation or compromising scientific independence? Advisory frameworks can accumulate outsized influence, shaping expectations and political pressure even when implementation is unclear.

AI is not only a set of tools; it’s also a pillar of national security and economic strategy. States have divergent digital-governance models, and the AI Panel could become a battleground: open societies versus state-centric control. Neutrality will be hard to sustain. Nations worry about sovereignty and competitiveness; industry may largely ignore lofty UN guidance. Practical questions persist: How were experts chosen? Will industry, academia and civil society have real voice? Can the Panel remain insulated from political blocs? And crucially, what enforceable pathways link the Panel’s findings to policy?

Without clear follow-through, the Panel risks producing influential-sounding reports that are widely cited but narrowly implemented. If the UN sets one standard while democratic alliances and industry groups set others, parallel governance tracks could fragment regulation, slow cooperation and confuse innovators. For these reasons Washington opposed the Panel’s creation. But that debate misses a more urgent point: AGI is arriving fast, and it demands specialized focus.

AGI is not merely a more capable AI. It’s a qualitative leap: systems that solve novel problems, rewrite their own code and pursue goals beyond human direction. Those capacities create risks that far exceed today’s AI issues. Big tech is pouring enormous capital into AGI — estimates of investment run into the hundreds of billions — and early forms are already in the wild. Prominent technologists and thinkers have warned that AGI presents real and possibly existential risks if left unchecked.

Recognizing the gap, the Council of Presidents of the UN General Assembly formed a High-Level Expert Panel on AGI. Its report, “Governance of the Transition to Artificial General Intelligence: Urgent Considerations for the UN General Assembly,” documents that AGI is distinct from current AI and calls for immediate, concrete measures: a global observatory to track capabilities and trends, international certification for critical systems, a dedicated agency for AGI oversight and an emergency UN General Assembly session to mobilize political action.

The Secretary-General’s AI Panel, as currently organized, reads like an abacus to a problem now operating on angstrom-class semiconductors. It lacks the leadership, urgency and technical focus AGI requires. The AGI High-Level Panel offers a clearer path: targeted, practical steps to manage transition risks rather than generalized advisory statements.

At minimum, the Secretary-General should recalibrate. The AI Panel should make AGI its primary, urgent focus; the AGI Panel’s report should be distributed promptly to all stakeholders; and existing AGI expertise within the Secretary-General’s advisory bodies — including the one AGI expert on his panel — should be immediately tasked to form a working group to translate recommendations into action. The UN should also press for the emergency General Assembly session the AGI Panel recommends to put binding or coordinated measures on the table.

If the UN does not elevate AGI from a footnote to the central issue, the parade will keep marching while the grand marshal — an emergent AGI — takes control of the route. Without decisive, expert-led global measures, humanity risks enduring long-term, large-scale consequences. Put bluntly: if the drum major won’t step up, he should at least move to the end of the parade with a big shovel to deal with the mess.

[Edited by Kaitlyn Diana]

The views expressed here are the author’s own and do not necessarily reflect the editorial policy of Fair Observer.

The ceasefire observed for Sunday’s Orthodox Easter celebrations coincides with a broader stalemate in US-led diplomatic efforts. Mediation to resolve the four-year conflict has effectively stalled as hostilities in Iran and the wider Middle East continue to complicate the path toward a permanent settlement.

Putin’s announcement was similar to a 30-hour ceasefire he ordered last year; however, each side accused the other of violating it.

“By the decision of the Supreme Commander-in-Chief…V.V. Putin, in connection with the approaching Orthodox feast of Easter (the Resurrection of Christ), a ceasefire is declared from 16:00 (13:00 GMT) on 11 April until the end of the day on 12 April 2026,” the Kremlin said, adding that it expected “the Ukrainian side will follow the example of the Russian Federation.”

Orthodox Easter is the most important event in the Eastern Orthodox liturgical calendar, celebrating the resurrection of Jesus Christ. While it shares the core theological meaning with Western Easter, the two often fall on different dates and involve distinct traditions.

The most significant reason for the date difference is the calendar used. Western Easter uses the Gregorian calendar (the standard civil calendar), while Orthodox Easter uses the Julian calendar, an older system. Because the Julian calendar is currently 13 days behind the Gregorian, and both traditions apply slightly different rules for the spring equinox and the full moon, Orthodox Easter usually falls one to five weeks after Western Easter.

A key requirement for Orthodox Easter, not strictly followed in the West, is that it must take place after the Jewish holiday of Passover, reflecting the biblical sequence of events. If the calculated date for Orthodox Easter falls before or during Passover, the Orthodox Church moves the celebration to the following Sunday.

Ukraine has said it has repeatedly proposed a halt to fighting for Orthodox Easter. “People need an Easter without threats and a real move towards peace, and Russia has a chance not to return to attacks even after Easter,” Zelenskyy wrote on Telegram. Kremlin spokesperson Dmitry Peskov told Russian state news agency TASS that Putin’s ceasefire proposal had not been discussed in advance with the United States.

About Bijan Tehrani

Ed Craven and Bijan Tehrani founded and run Stake.com, believed to be the largest crypto-backed online casino in the world. Stake.com generated $4.7 billion of gross revenue in 2024, despite crypto gambling being unavailable in the United States, United Kingdom and much of Europe. The founders have reinvested profits into aggressive marketing, putting Stake’s name on Formula 1 cars, English Premier League jerseys, UFC octagons and a new livestreaming service.

During the pandemic, Stake paid content creators on Twitch to livestream themselves gambling, transforming the business from $100 million in revenue to $2 billion in just two years. After Twitch banned Stake from advertising on its platform due to a lack of consumer protections, Craven and Tehrani launched their own competing livestream service, Kick.

Personal Stats

Age – 32
Source of Wealth – Online casino, Self Made
Residence – Melbourne, Australia
Citizenship – United States

Bijan Tehrani Wealth History

(Chart image referenced)

Also Read:
Top 50 Richest Billionaires Businessmen – https://www.theworldstimes.com/list-of-australias-top-50-richest-billionaires-businessmen/

The British government said Saturday that legislation to ratify an agreement to transfer the Chagos Islands to Mauritius has run out of time in Parliament and is on indefinite hold after U.S. President Donald Trump withdrew his support.

The deal, negotiated to safeguard the long-term future of the U.K.-American military base on Diego Garcia, had initially received backing from the U.S. but Mr. Trump reversed course in January, calling the transfer “an act of GREAT STUPIDITY” on social media. In response, the U.K. paused the bill’s progress and now accepts it is unlikely to become law before the current parliamentary session ends. It is not expected to be included in the government’s slate of bills for the next session beginning May 13.

The British government said ensuring the operational security of Diego Garcia—“a key strategic military asset for both the U.K. and the U.S.”—remains a priority and that the agreement was intended to protect the base long-term. The statement added the government would only proceed with the deal if it has U.S. support and that officials continue to engage with both the U.S. and Mauritius.

Simon McDonald, former head of the Foreign Office, told the BBC the government “had no other choice” but to shelve the treaty while relations with the U.S. are strained, describing the arrangement as going into a “deep freeze” for now.

The remote archipelago of more than 60 islands in the Indian Ocean, south of the Maldives, has been under British control since 1814. Diego Garcia hosts a strategically important base that has supported U.S. operations from Vietnam to Iraq and Afghanistan and has been used for long-range missions, including strikes related to conflicts in the Middle East.

Prime Minister Keir Starmer initially blocked American planes from using British bases for attacks on Iran, then later allowed limited use of English bases and Diego Garcia to target Iran’s missile sites. Mr. Trump has criticized NATO allies for reluctance to join the war, and has publicly derided Mr. Starmer.

Under the proposed U.K.-Mauritius agreement, Britain would lease back the Diego Garcia base for at least 99 years. The Starmer government says the deal would protect the base from international legal challenges after recent U.N. and International Court rulings urged Britain to return the islands to Mauritius.

The plan faced opposition from the Conservative Party and Reform UK, which warned that ceding sovereignty could invite interference from China and Russia and lobbied the Trump administration to withdraw support.

Displaced Chagossians—removed from Diego Garcia in the 1960s and 1970s—say they were not consulted and fear the deal would make return harder. Around 10,000 Chagossians and their descendants live mainly in Britain, Mauritius and the Seychelles; many have pursued legal battles in U.K. courts for the right to return.

By the early 1990s, Jackson’s fame was unrivalled. His albums and videos had made him a global icon. But in 1993 Evan Chandler accused him of abusing his son; the case was settled in 1994. The settlement included terms that constrained public and artistic depictions of the matter and, for a time, complicated efforts to dramatize his life. Jackson’s eccentric persona — androgynous image, high voice, childlike manner — already invited speculation. His 1994 marriage to Lisa Marie Presley was read by some as a rebuttal to rumors about his sexuality; the relationship collapsed within a year. He later married Debbie Rowe and had children, and by the 2000s his private life and public idiosyncrasies generated uneasy fascination.

In 2003 Jackson agreed to an interview with Martin Bashir that many now view as a catastrophic misjudgment. Bashir, whose methods later came under scrutiny in other contexts, framed Jackson’s accounts of “sleepovers” with children and his Neverland lifestyle in ways that made him appear, to many viewers, bizarre and disturbing. That same year Jackson was charged in Santa Barbara County with lewd acts involving a child. He stood trial in 2005, and a jury acquitted him of all charges. Legally he remained innocent to the end of his life. Socially, however, suspicion lingered.

The #MeToo watershed — widely associated with the 2017 New York Times exposé on Harvey Weinstein — rewired how allegations are received. Tarana Burke had coined “me too” in 2006 as an organizing phrase for survivors; after Weinstein the hashtag became a global mechanism for naming sexual misconduct. High-profile accusations swiftly removed powerful men from positions of influence. Formal convictions mattered less than public judgment: projects were canceled, reputations collapsed, and institutions moved faster than courts. The informal tribunal of social media and cultural sentiment proved often decisive. The aphorism “where there’s smoke, there’s fire” acquired renewed force in public life.

Reimagining Jackson’s 1990s and 2000s under a post-Weinstein, social-media-saturated regime suggests different dynamics. Settlements like the one Jackson reached in 1994 no longer reliably silenced public suspicion. Prince Andrew’s 2022 settlement with Virginia Giuffre, though a legal resolution, did little to restore public standing; subsequent revelations about his links to Jeffrey Epstein ended his royal role. Johnny Depp won a libel verdict in 2022 against Amber Heard yet lost major studio opportunities. Kevin Spacey faced accusations, civil suits and a criminal trial — outcomes varied, but the damage to reputations and careers was often lasting.

Applied to Jackson, the consequences would likely have been severe. His 1994 settlement and the allegations that preceded the 2003 charges would have been instant currency on social platforms and in news cycles. Social media’s velocity would have magnified suspicion and kept the claims in public view. Even after his 2005 acquittal, the cultural habit of privileging accusation over legal exoneration in many public forums would probably have left him branded in the court of opinion. Promoters, producers and sponsors — risk-averse in the #MeToo era — would likely have hesitated to invest in a rehabilitated Jackson. A settlement, a past accusation or even reportage of eccentric behaviour could have been sufficient to make large partners walk away or demand heavy insurance and safeguards.

Yet Jackson’s star power was extraordinary, and celebrity fandom can be protective. His popularity at the time rivalled the biggest contemporary stars. That adulation might have insulated him to an extent: diehard fans, powerful allies in the industry and lucrative catalog and publishing assets could have sustained revenue streams and cultural visibility despite controversy. But the 2003 criminal charges were not merely gossip; they were prosecutorial action that reached a jury. In a world where allegations can curtail careers before trials conclude, Jackson’s 2003–05 ordeal might have produced a swift professional squeeze irrespective of the eventual acquittal.

The immediate practical fallout matters. By 2009 Jackson was heavily indebted and planning a staged comeback: the London “This Is It!” concerts. Ticket sales suggested enormous market appetite. But the comeback placed Jackson under intense pressure and an exhausting rehearsal schedule. Three months after announcing the residency, he was found dead; the death was ruled a homicide and his physician was later convicted of involuntary manslaughter for administering a lethal dose of anesthetic. Jackson’s reliance on prescription drugs — OxyContin, Demerol, and ultimately propofol — was central to the tragic denouement.

Here a counterintuitive effect of #MeToo emerges. Had Jackson been effectively “canceled” — deprived of big tours, stripped of high-profile projects and materially isolated by promoters and labels unwilling to associate with him — he might have been forced into a less frenetic, less public life. That loss of income and status could have compelled financial retrenchment and reduced the demands that pushed him into extreme measures to perform. Without the looming London residency and the gruelling rehearsals, physicians, handlers and entourages might not have arranged the nightly medical regimen that culminated in his death. In that mechanical sense, the harsh professional consequences of a #MeToo climate might have reduced the immediate pressures that contributed to his fatal overreliance on potent drugs.

So: professionally, an equivalent of the 1993–2003 allegations in today’s milieu would probably have ended or drastically curtailed Jackson’s capacity to work at the top tier. He would likely have been sidelined from large public projects; his name could have been quarantined by mainstream platforms and promoters. Culturally, however, reputations are malleable. Over time the music might have outlasted the scandal for many listeners. The image of Jackson as a pioneering artist could gradually reassert itself for new audiences, even as questions lingered.

Physically, though, Jackson might have lived. Reduced touring and fewer high-stakes commitments could have meant fewer demands on his health, less incentive to medicate to meet performance requirements, and a greater likelihood of a slower decline that allowed intervention and care. In this unlikely calculus, the cultural cancellation that would have curtailed his career might simultaneously have spared his life.

Jackson’s actual death froze public debate in an unresolved tension: legally exonerated in 2005 but later the subject of vivid allegations and documentary testimony, he remains lodged between genius and tormentor in public memory. The #MeToo era sharpened the instruments by which society judges alleged misconduct and reallocated power away from secret settlements toward public reckoning. Had Jackson lived into that age, he would almost certainly have confronted a harsher, more relentless public tribunal. That tribunal might have consigned his career to obscurity, but — paradoxically — could also have removed him from the particular stresses that helped produce his fatal dependency.

In short: the #MeToo era would likely have cost Michael Jackson his standing in mainstream showbusiness; it probably would not have spared him public shaming, but might have, indirectly, reduced the circumstances that led to his death. He may have survived to an older age, remembered as an unparalleled musical innovator whose life was irreparably complicated by grievous and unresolved allegations.

The ceasefire for Sunday’s Orthodox Easter comes amid a broader stalemate in US-led diplomatic efforts. Mediation to resolve the four-year conflict has effectively stalled as hostilities in Iran and the wider Middle East complicate the path to a lasting settlement.

Putin’s announcement echoed a 30-hour ceasefire he ordered last year, which both sides accused the other of breaching.

“By the decision of the Supreme Commander-in-Chief…V.V. Putin, in connection with the approaching Orthodox feast of Easter (the Resurrection of Christ), a ceasefire is declared from 16:00 (13:00 GMT) on 11 April until the end of the day on 12 April 2026,” the Kremlin said.

“We proceed on the basis that the Ukrainian side will follow the example of the Russian Federation,” the Kremlin added.

What’s the significance of Orthodox Easter?

Orthodox Easter is the principal feast in the Eastern Orthodox liturgical year, celebrating the resurrection of Jesus Christ. While it shares the same central meaning as Western Easter, the two often fall on different dates and follow distinct traditions.

Why do the dates differ?

The main difference is the calendar used to calculate the date. Western churches use the Gregorian calendar (the civil calendar), while most Orthodox churches use the older Julian calendar.

Because the Julian calendar is currently 13 days behind the Gregorian, and because the churches apply slightly different rules about the spring equinox and the full moon, Orthodox Easter usually occurs one to five weeks after Western Easter.

The Jewish Passover rule

A requirement observed by the Orthodox Church, less strictly followed in the West, is that Easter must fall after the Jewish holiday of Passover. This follows the biblical sequence in which the Resurrection came after Passover.

If the calculated date for Orthodox Easter would fall before or during Passover, the Orthodox Church moves the celebration to the following Sunday.

Ukraine has repeatedly proposed halting fighting for Orthodox Easter. “People need an Easter without threats and a real move towards peace, and Russia has a chance not to return to attacks even after Easter,” Zelenskiy wrote on Telegram.

Kremlin spokesperson Dmitry Peskov told Russian state agency TASS that Putin’s ceasefire proposal had not been discussed in advance with the United States.

About Bijan Tehrani
Ed Craven and Bijan Tehrani founded and run Stake.com, a crypto-backed online casino widely reported to be the largest of its kind. Stake.com generated $4.7 billion in gross revenue in 2024 despite restrictions on crypto gambling in the United States, United Kingdom and much of Europe.

The founders reinvested profits into aggressive marketing, placing Stake branding on Formula 1 cars, English Premier League jerseys, UFC octagons, and launching a livestreaming service. During the COVID-19 pandemic, Stake paid content creators on Twitch to livestream gambling, helping the business grow from about $100 million in revenue to $2 billion within two years. After Twitch banned Stake advertising over consumer-protection concerns, Craven and Tehrani launched their own competing livestream platform, Kick.

Personal Stats
Age: 32
Source of Wealth: Online casino, self-made
Residence: Melbourne, Australia
Citizenship: United States

Bijan Tehrani Wealth History
(Wealth chart image referenced)

Also Read:
Top 50 Richest Billionaires Businessmen

India’s trade delegation is expected to visit the United States later this month as New Delhi awaits finalisation of the new US tariff structure before signing the trade agreement concluded between both sides. Dates for the proposed visit are under discussion.

US Ambassador to India Sergio Gor recently met US Trade Representative Jamieson Greer to discuss advancing trade priorities in South and Central Asia, posting on X that “The United States and India have previously agreed to a trade deal, and we look forward to welcoming an Indian delegation to Washington later this month.”

On April 2, government sources indicated India will move ahead with signing the Bilateral Trade Agreement (BTA) with the United States once it secures preferential access, noting the issue must be resolved by Washington; all countries are currently facing 10% tariffs.

Sources added India is in a relatively favourable position, having secured a better arrangement than competitors in Southeast Asia and neighbouring countries, and is seeking preferential market access to the US market. Both countries are looking to deepen their multidimensional relationship across sectors.

During an official US visit, India’s Foreign Secretary Vikram Misri met Rubio at the White House, where discussions covered the India-US bilateral relationship, trade, critical minerals, defence and the Quad.

US Department of State Principal Deputy Spokesperson Tommy Pigott said Deputy Secretary of State Christopher Landau also met Misri in Washington, where leaders reaffirmed the close partnership and discussed the situation in the Persian Gulf along with other global and regional priorities.

Earlier, Foreign Secretary Misri and India’s Ambassador to the United States Vinay Kwatra launched the India-USA Trade Facilitation Portal, aimed at supporting Mission 500 — a target set by Prime Minister Narendra Modi and US President Donald Trump to more than double bilateral trade to $500 billion by 2030.

Virtually addressing the portal’s launch, Commerce and Industry Minister Piyush Goyal called it a forward-looking initiative that will enable direct engagement between Indian exporters and US importers while creating greater opportunities to deepen bilateral trade ties.

India and the US are also exploring increased cooperation in the defence sector. The Indian Air Force posted on X about Air Chief Marshal AP Singh’s official visit to Peterson Space Force Base in the US, stating he interacted with General Gregory M Guillot, Commander of US NORTHCOM/NORAD, for “a productive exchange of perspectives on complex operational modalities,” reflecting the strength of the growing partnership.

Separating dependency from addiction matters. Over recent decades social scientists have preferred the term dependency for behaviors such as heavy shopping, sex, gambling or social media use. Dependency implies reliance that can often be ended by will — however difficult that may be. Addiction, in its medical sense, points to repeated exposure producing physiological changes that undermine volition. In true addiction, willpower is often insufficient: the body has adapted in ways that make cessation profoundly difficult, as with opioid dependence.

Yet the distinction between dependency and addiction has blurred in everyday language. Addiction has migrated from a clinical category to a catch-all phrase for anything repeated with gusto: we call ourselves addicted to chocolate, to shopping, to screens. That linguistic drift has consequences. Terms that once signified physiological dependence now describe patterns of voluntary behavior incentivized by design. Conflating the two risks mischaracterizing ordinary human choices as medical pathologies.

The expansion of medical authority into everyday life — medicalization — helps explain this shift. As William C. Cockerham and earlier critics such as Ivan Illich and Thomas Szasz argued, medicine does not merely record biological facts; it shapes what we treat as illness. Medicalization has brought important gains: alcohol use disorder, depression and anxiety are now socially legible conditions, reducing stigma and enabling treatment. But as medicine’s reach has extended, behaviors once considered normal or morally charged have been reclassified as medical problems. The harder medicine works to render suffering visible and treatable, the more tempting it is to apply the same model to behaviors that lack the same biophysical basis.

Gambling is a useful comparator. Historically seen as risky recreation, gambling now has a recognized disorder category. But many gamblers describe their behavior not as compulsive in the medical sense but as strategic, anticipatory and rewarding. They continue despite losses because the activity supplies excitement, identity and social meaning. The diagnosis of “problem gambler” often follows ruinous outcomes; when gambling yields wins it attracts admiration. That suggests the boundary between pathology and normality is often retrospective and contextual: behavior becomes a disorder when outcomes are judged unacceptable.

Social media fits a similar pattern. Platforms are intentionally designed to capture attention, with cycles of anticipation and intermittent reward — likes, comments, new posts — that reinforce return visits. That design produces strong reinforcement, but reinforcement is not proof of addiction; it is evidence of effective incentive architecture. Users return because the experience is satisfying and because participation is embedded in their social world. To disengage is not just an act of will; it often means withdrawing from networks of friendship, information and recognition.

Importantly, “social media addiction” is not a formal diagnosis in major psychiatric classifications such as the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM-5-TR). That absence is revealing: when courts, policymakers or media speak of addiction, they often invoke clinical language that lacks a recognized clinical counterpart. Labeling a social phenomenon as an addiction imports assumptions about compulsion, physiological dependence and impaired agency that may not hold.

Young people’s voices are frequently absent from these debates. Parents, clinicians, policymakers and courts pronounce judgment about the harms of social media with little attention to how young users themselves experience it. Research — including large-scale studies and ethnographies — shows that many young people are reflexive about their online lives, aware of risks and capable of weighing rewards. For most, online engagement is integral to communication and identity, not a pathology to be excised.

This is not to deny online harm. Some users, particularly those who are vulnerable, may experience anxiety, distress or lowered wellbeing connected to their online interactions. Those harms warrant attention, support and, where appropriate, regulation. But harm alone does not equate to a medical disorder. The critical question is whether problematic patterns of online behavior are best understood as individual disorders or as features of a social world in which digital interaction is ubiquitous and structurally encouraged.

Framing the problem in clinical terms has effects beyond diagnosis. If courts and regulators accept the language of addiction, responsibility shifts: blame moves from users to platforms and potentially to government. That shift can be justified when platforms deliberately design mechanisms that exploit vulnerabilities. But it also risks pathologizing routine social practices and redirecting attention away from social, educational and structural responses that could empower users.

In short, intense and repeated social media use is often better described as dependency reinforced by design and social need rather than as clinical addiction. Recognizing that distinction matters for how we respond: medical interventions, public health measures, platform regulation and education each have different roles. Over-medicalizing social conduct risks obscuring those options and narrowing how we understand both harm and responsibility.

[Ellis Cashmore is a co-author of Screen Society.]

[Lee Thompson-Kolar edited this piece.]

The views expressed are the author’s own and do not necessarily reflect Fair Observer’s editorial policy.

A key driver of the surge is the weaponisation of emerging technologies, particularly artificial intelligence. What began as a theoretical risk has become a tool for large-scale deception: generative AI creates highly convincing synthetic content—deepfake audio, realistic impersonations and personalised scam scripts—enabling more effective and scalable fraud. The IC3 report attributes more than 22,000 complaints in 2025 directly to AI-enabled fraud, with losses exceeding $893 million. Distress scams using voice cloning to impersonate loved ones have proved especially manipulative.

Cryptocurrency remains central to modern cyber fraud, both as a payment method and as bait. Complaints involving crypto accounted for $11.366 billion in losses, a 22 percent rise. Investment scams were the most damaging category, costing victims $8.6 billion through elaborate, long-running schemes often orchestrated by organised networks based in Southeast Asia. These operations use psychological manipulation and a veneer of legitimacy—fake platforms and fabricated returns—before vanishing when victims try to withdraw funds.

The human toll is widespread. Older Americans are disproportionately affected: people aged 60 and above reported losses of $7.7 billion across more than 200,000 complaints. At the same time, crimes targeting minors—sextortion, cyberbullying and online grooming—have surged, with over 5,700 complaints involving children referred to the National Center for Missing & Exploited Children (NCMEC) in 2025.

Law enforcement has ramped up international cooperation, notably between the FBI and India’s Central Bureau of Investigation (CBI). Joint operations have targeted illegal call centres behind tech-support and government-impersonation scams, schemes that together caused losses exceeding $2.9 billion. Initiatives such as Operation Chakra led to raids in cities like Noida and the dismantling of transnational fraud networks.

Recovery efforts have improved. The Financial Fraud Kill Chain (FFKC) system, used to freeze stolen funds before they are moved beyond reach, recorded a 58 percent success rate in 2025 and helped block over $679 million in fraudulent transactions. Still, as threats grow more sophisticated, the central challenge remains shifting the cost of crime away from victims and onto perpetrators—a goal that will require stronger global law enforcement cooperation and a more vigilant public aware of the risks of an increasingly digitised world.