High-quality growth, not mass tourism at any cost
Across Southeast Asia, governments are reckoning with a quiet paradox: the same openness that invites prosperity can also invite exploitation. Thailand, Indonesia, and Malaysia are tightening their borders in response to criminal networks and scam operations that have found shelter in permissive visa regimes, while Vietnam — flush with record tourism numbers — is attempting a more nuanced path, one that uses digital tools and selective generosity to remain welcoming without becoming vulnerable. The deeper question these nations are navigating is not merely who gets in, but what kind of future they are building for those who already live there.
- Criminal networks exploiting loose visa arrangements have forced Thailand, Indonesia, and Malaysia into urgent policy reviews, with police and immigration officials now working in rare coordination.
- Vietnam's record-breaking tourism surge — 22.8 million arrivals last year, already outpacing that figure in 2025 — creates pressure to act without dismantling the open-door policies driving that growth.
- A new e-arrival card system at Ho Chi Minh City's main airport signals Vietnam's attempt to modernize border management, creating digital accountability without restricting access.
- Industry voices are drawing a sharp distinction between volume and value, warning that chasing mass tourism risks straining infrastructure, damaging communities, and eroding the country's brand.
- Vietnam's deputy security minister has publicly committed to a dual mandate — stronger enforcement and sustained openness — but the balance between those two goals remains untested at scale.
Across Southeast Asia, the question of who gets in is being asked with new urgency. Thailand is auditing every visa category for vulnerabilities. Indonesia is reconsidering visa-free arrangements with countries linked to online scam networks. Malaysia's police and immigration officials are coordinating to prevent organized crime from exploiting relaxed border policies. The region's openness, long celebrated as an economic asset, is being reexamined as a potential liability.
Vietnam has been watching. In mid-April, the Department of Immigration introduced a mandatory online pre-entry declaration for arrivals at Tan Son Nhat International Airport — a system now expanding nationwide. The move looks like regional alignment, but the government's position is more carefully calibrated. At a May 15 conference in Ho Chi Minh City, Deputy Minister of Public Security Pham The Tung drew a deliberate distinction: Vietnam would strengthen oversight and enforcement, but would not abandon its open-door stance. Security and welcome, he insisted, are not opposites.
Tourism professionals broadly support that framing, though they are shaping it in their own direction. RMIT Vietnam's Dr. Justin Matthew Pang argued that the e-arrival system actually enhances Vietnam's image — projecting competence rather than suspicion. Martin Koerner of The Anam Group went further, urging Vietnam to remain generous specifically with high-spending, long-haul travelers while resisting the pull of mass tourism, which he warned can degrade infrastructure, alienate communities, and hollow out a destination's reputation over time.
The numbers give Vietnam room to be selective. Last year's 22.8 million foreign arrivals marked an 18 percent increase and a historic record. The current year is tracking 22.5 percent ahead of that pace. The country's challenge now is to sustain that momentum while avoiding the pressures that have pushed its neighbors toward restriction — to remain the region's most open door without becoming its most exposed one.
Across Southeast Asia, the conversation about who gets in is shifting. Thailand's prime minister has quietly begun assembling a working group to examine every category of visa—investment visas, student visas, long-term residency permits, digital nomad passes—looking for vulnerabilities. Indonesia's immigration authorities are reconsidering their visa-free arrangements with certain countries, worried that loose entry rules have made the archipelago attractive to networks running online scams. Malaysia's police are coordinating with immigration officials to tighten monitoring at borders, flagging the risk that relaxed policies could become a pipeline for organized crime.
Vietnam has not ignored these signals. In mid-April, the Department of Immigration rolled out a new requirement: anyone arriving at Tan Son Nhat International Airport in Ho Chi Minh City must now complete an online pre-entry declaration before landing, a move designed to speed up processing and create a digital record of who is entering the country. The system is being expanded nationwide. On the surface, it looks like Vietnam is following the regional tightening trend—adopting the tools of a security-conscious state.
But the story is more complicated than that. When Lieutenant General Pham The Tung, Vietnam's Deputy Minister of Public Security, spoke at a conference in Ho Chi Minh City on May 15, he drew a careful line. Yes, Vietnam would strengthen oversight of foreign residents and visitors. Yes, enforcement against abuse would be enhanced. But the country would not abandon its open-door stance. Tourism, investment, and economic growth remained priorities. The message was: we can be both secure and welcoming.
Tourism insiders are pushing back against the idea that Vietnam should follow its neighbors down a more restrictive path. Dr. Justin Matthew Pang, who teaches tourism and hospitality management at RMIT Vietnam, noted that visa policies across the region have shifted noticeably in recent months, driven by legitimate concerns about overstays, unauthorized work, and criminal activity. But he also suggested that Vietnam's adoption of the e-arrival system actually strengthens its image—it signals competence and modernity without slamming the door shut.
Martin Koerner, commercial director of The Anam Group, which operates a chain of luxury resorts across Vietnam, articulated the tension most clearly. Vietnam should absolutely crack down on abuse and enforce its rules with discipline. But it should do so selectively, he argued, by remaining generous with visas for the travelers who matter most: those from long-haul markets with deep pockets, the kind of visitors who spend freely and respect the destination. Mass tourism, he cautioned, can strain infrastructure, alienate local communities, damage the environment, and cheapen the country's brand. A visa policy that chases volume over value is a short-term win that becomes a long-term liability.
The numbers suggest Vietnam's current approach is working. Last year, the country welcomed 22.8 million foreign arrivals, an 18 percent jump from 2024 and the highest annual total on record. This year is tracking even faster: more than nine million visitors in the first months alone, a 22.5 percent increase year-on-year. The question now is whether Vietnam can sustain that growth without the problems that have prompted its neighbors to tighten up—whether it can be the region's most open door while remaining the most secure.
Citas Notables
A mass visa policy can generate short-term arrival growth, but if not managed properly, it may create pressure on infrastructure, local communities, the environment and the destination's image.— Martin Koerner, commercial director of The Anam Group
Vietnam would strengthen the management of foreigners living and traveling in Vietnam, but maintain open visa and immigration policies aimed at supporting tourism, investment, and economic growth.— Lieutenant General Pham The Tung, Deputy Minister of Public Security
La Conversación del Hearth Otra perspectiva de la historia
Why are so many Southeast Asian countries suddenly worried about their visa policies?
They're seeing a pattern: easier entry has made their countries attractive to criminal networks, especially online scam operations. Thailand, Indonesia, Malaysia—they're all dealing with the same problem. Overstays, illegal employment, foreign criminals using loose rules as cover.
So Vietnam should do the same thing, right? Tighten everything up?
That's the tension. Vietnam could, but the people who actually run the tourism industry there are saying it shouldn't. They're arguing for something more surgical—keep the doors open for the right people, the ones who spend money and respect the place, but be strict about everyone else.
How does Vietnam actually enforce that distinction?
That's the hard part. The e-arrival system helps—it creates a digital record, lets them track who's coming in and flag suspicious patterns. But you still need people on the ground making judgment calls, and that's where corruption or bias can creep in.
Is there a risk that Vietnam's openness becomes a liability?
Absolutely. If you're not careful, you attract low-spending tourists who strain infrastructure and annoy locals, or worse, you become known as a place where rules don't apply. That damages the brand in ways that are hard to recover from.
So what's the real balancing act here?
It's about choosing your tourists. Vietnam wants the luxury travelers, the long-haul visitors, the people who'll spend money and leave good memories. Not everyone, not at any cost. Quality over volume.