MELBOURNE’S reputation as the world’s most liveable city is well deserved. I spent most of last year there. As well as a chic city centre and immaculate suburbs, there’s non-stop annual activity featuring events like the Australian Open grand slam tennis, the Formula 1 Australian grand prix, a Derby horserace, an international film festival, a food and wine festival and a hectic calendar of sport, cultural and entertainment activity.

Riverboats ply up and down the Yarra River, which is Melbourne’s answer to the Thames in London or the Seine in Paris. The city’s central business district is to the one side of the river. On the other side, the Southbank promenade, sprawls the Crown casino and entertainment complex, the largest in the southern hemisphere.

Australians are avid gamblers and gambling is a well-regulated industry. Licensed operators clock in $20 billion in revenues, paying $5bn in taxes every year. Meanwhile the Australian productivity commission calculates the benefits derived by the 70pc of Australians who gamble (if joy could be measured and quantified as a dollar amount), to significantly outweigh the costs, which mostly relate to the problem gamblers.

It contends that the costs can be further reduced through improved regulatory measures. But while Australia ranks as one of the world’s happiest societies, Australians are not night owls, most preferring to turn in early.

Emerging Asia on the other hand is another story. “A little gambling is good for health,” goes an old Chinese maxim, “but too much can drive you mad.” So it was on Chinese New Year in 2010 that Singapore opened the Resorts World Sentosa, a casino complex that also integrates a Universal Studios theme park as well as hotels and a convention centre.

Shortly afterwards, another such integrated resort followed; the Marina Bay Sands. The $10bn in foreign direct investment have quite arguably kept the effects of the global financial crisis from engulfing Singapore. The resorts charge a $100 entry fee which goes towards covering “social costs”, a euphemism for issues concerning problem gamblers.

In adjoining Malaysia, Mahathir Mohammed had promoted the development of integrated gaming and entertainment resorts in the scenic Genting highlands. The drive up there from Kuala Lumpur is not unlike that to Bhurban from Islamabad. The Genting group is the Malaysian conglomerate that led the development. Today its market capitalisation stands at around $50bn.

Driven by supercharged economic performance over recent decades, China has churned out millionaires and billionaires in ever increasing numbers. They’re always up for a bit of travel that involves the thrill of new gambling destinations. Not surprisingly, the Pacific Rim has edged out Western hot spots such as Las Vegas, Atlantic City and Monte Carlo.

The Economist reports that the Philippines is developing four impressive casino complexes on a chunk of reclaimed land overlooking Manila Bay. It also reports that in Japan, a move is afoot for parliament to introduce legislation to liberalise gambling.

Other than ethnic and sectarian strife and target killings, Karachi and Beirut may have few similarities today. But in the early 1970s, both cities could boast almost idyllic peace and safety as also their nightlife, cabaret clubs and bars. Western expats were a common sight, whether visiting or working in Karachi’s corporate and educational sectors.

Back then, Karachi and Beirut may well have been regarded as culture cousins in almost a sort of rivalry that would position them as alternative destinations.

Driving 22km along the scenic coast road north of Beirut, one comes to the Casino du Liban; set on a cliff, overlooking the Mediterranean. Its architect was the one who later designed the Clifton Beach Casino that was taking shape in Karachi in the mid 1970s.

Steve Inskeep, in his book Instant City: Life and Death in Karachi recounts his conversation with Tufail (Tony) Shaikh, sponsor of the project. “We knew there was trouble in Beirut. We knew we would get all the Arabs here” he quotes Shaikh as telling him. At that time, the oil shock of 1974 was rapidly creating thousands of Gulf Arab millionaires.

The regulations for the Clifton Beach Casino were to allow foreigners only; but Pakistanis who paid high income taxes could also come. Inskeep also tells us that to run the casino, Shaikh had arranged to bring in Stanley Ho, one of the world’s richest men who owned extensive concessions for gambling in Macau. “People who don’t want to gamble, they can come and watch the floor show, have dinner, enjoy the evening. People who want to gamble, they can gamble,” Shaikh explained.

In 1976 Lebanon slipped into civil war and a window of opportunity briefly opened for Karachi. Then, just before the final approval for the grand opening, in May 1977, the curtain fell. Bhutto’s government, under pressure from Islamists, declared Friday as the weekly holiday and banned gambling. The appeasement didn’t work and within two months Ziaul Haq took over and the window slammed shut. Today not just Gulf Arabs but all foreigners including most foreign airlines shun Pakistan.

And what happened to Stanley Ho? The Economist reports that by 2002 he was holding a monopoly on gambling in Macau. Last year, Macau’s turnover totalled six times Las Vegas. China’s economic miracle has fuelled spectacular growth and each day droves of well-to-do Chinese board the high-speed train to Macau which is now also being linked overland with Hong Kong’s huge airport.

Meanwhile, his son had reached a deal with Russian authorities to open a casino in Vladivostok, Russia’s Far East which is closer to Beijing than to Moscow. The world keeps moving and its work goes on.

The writer is a strategist and entrepreneur. moazzamhusain@yahoo.com.au