Cocaine, Pornography, and Economic Blind Spots

Global economies are currently being reshaped faster than ever before, amid the rise of artificial intelligence and geopolitical tensions. The restructuring of value chains is the subject of much discussion, to say the least. In our collective reflections on the markets of tomorrow, however, I’ve noticed that little is said about certain economies that are already well-established, ubiquitous, and deeply integrated into global networks.

Recently, I read two books that explore precisely these economies, which are often left in the shadows even though everyone knows they exist: the cocaine and pornography markets. The books in question are: Extra Pure by Roberto Saviano and The Empire of Sex: The Great Investigation into Pornhub by Jean-François Cloutier, Nora T. Lamontagne, and Nicolas Brasseur.

Beyond their respective subjects, both books essentially tell the same story: that of globalized, sophisticated, and extraordinarily efficient economic systems that often thrive out of the public eye and beyond the scope of serious discussion.

The authors focus on sectors that are often portrayed as anomalies. Yet, upon reading the book, one concludes that these markets bear a striking resemblance to many other sectors of the global economy. They involve issues such as growth, vertical integration, market dominance, control of distribution, recruitment, logistics, financing, and risk management. The products may differ, but the economic mechanisms are the very ones discussed in the public sphere.

In Extra Pure, Roberto Saviano describes organizations capable of managing international supply chains of impressive complexity, vertically integrating certain activities, diversifying their risks, and adapting quickly to regulatory changes. Cartels appear less like improvised organizations and more like extremely disciplined structures, capable of coordinating thousands of actors spread across several continents.

The same observation emerges from The Sex Empire. The rise of Pornhub and its parent company—known successively as Mansef, Manwin, MindGeek, and then Aylo—resembles in many ways that of a tech giant. The authors tell a story of aggressive acquisitions, search engine dominance, control over distribution, and market consolidation. Behind the product lies, above all, a company obsessed with traffic and network effects.

Both books also highlight a reality often observed in the modern economy: wealth is rarely concentrated where the product is created.

In the case of cocaine, farmers remain among the least wealthy players in the entire value chain. As the product moves through transportation, distribution, financing, and final sale, profit margins increase significantly. Those who control the flow of the product capture more value than those who produce the raw material.

The parallel is strikingly similar in the digital economy. The authors of The Sex Empire show that content creation is only one component of the system. The real value lies more in control over platforms, algorithms, data, payments, and user attention. As in many other sectors, the winners are often those who own the infrastructure rather than the product.

Both books also highlight a dynamic found in many contemporary industries: the disconnect between the pace at which markets evolve and that of the mechanisms designed to regulate them. In the case of Pornhub, the platform’s rise far outpaced the debates surrounding content moderation, consent, and age verification. The authors describe a company whose growth and global influence have expanded much more rapidly than the ability of authorities, the media, and the general public to fully grasp its implications.

The central element linking the two books is the silence surrounding these markets.

Cocaine is often discussed through the lens of crime or sensationalism. Pornography remains a deeply uncomfortable subject for many. In both cases, public debate tends to stop short of economic analysis. Yet these industries generate billions of dollars, influence the behavior of millions of people, and shape extremely sophisticated global networks.

Ignoring them does not make them go away. It simply limits our ability to understand certain dynamics of power, economic concentration, and influence that shape our societies. At a time when there is much discussion about the industries of the future, these two books remind us that it is sometimes just as instructive to observe the industries that already exist—industries that generate colossal economic flows and, in their own way, reveal some of the fundamental mechanisms of the global economy.