Da Nang will be Vietnam's Next Economic Powerhouse | Chris Vanloon of AmCham Central Vietnam

For many years, Da Nang was described through the language of potential. It had strategic geography, a growing tourism sector, improving infrastructure, a young population, and a quality of life that compared favorably with larger Vietnamese cities. Investors, consultants, officials, and residents repeatedly spoke about what the city might become.

The language was optimistic, but often cautious. Da Nang was promising. Da Nang was developing. Da Nang was one to watch.

My conversation with Chris Vanloon at the Vietnam Financial Forum 2026 reflected a very different mood. After nearly three decades in Vietnam, including extensive work in hospitality, real estate, property management, foreign investment, and the American Chamber of Commerce in Central Vietnam, Chris believes the period of observation is ending. The potential has already been established. The more urgent question is whether institutions, businesses, educators, and investors are prepared to act quickly enough to capture it.

His message was direct: Da Nang does not need another conference devoted entirely to discussing why development should happen. It needs mechanisms, investment, talent, energy, and people willing to move projects forward.

Chris arrived in Vietnam in 1998 to help open the Furama Resort in Da Nang. At the time, the city bore little resemblance to the place it has become. International tourism was still developing, large-scale resorts were limited, and many of the commercial opportunities now associated with Central Vietnam had yet to appear.

Hospitality gave him an unusually broad introduction to business. Hotel management requires a working understanding of marketing, finance, customer relations, operations, staffing, property management, and service delivery. Employees move constantly between abstract business objectives and the immediate needs of people standing in front of them. A strategy may exist on paper, but guests still expect the room to be ready, the staff to respond, and the experience to feel effortless.

Chris eventually moved beyond hospitality into real estate and property management. He worked in Ho Chi Minh City and later Hanoi, advising on commercial properties and developing a portfolio across northern Vietnam. His work expanded into foreign direct investment, bringing capital from Korean, Japanese, American, and other international partners into property and development projects.

After years of moving between Vietnam’s major cities, he returned to Da Nang and found a way to build a life there. This detail may sound personal, but it connects directly with one of the central economic questions facing the city. Many people want to live in Da Nang. The challenge has often been finding work capable of supporting that decision.

A city can possess excellent beaches, reasonable living costs, and an attractive lifestyle, yet still lose its most capable graduates if the professional opportunities remain elsewhere. Students may enjoy studying in Da Nang, but many continue to look toward Ho Chi Minh City or Hanoi when they begin their careers. The larger cities offer more employers, clearer advancement paths, and wider professional networks.

Chris believes this pattern is beginning to change.

He argues that a combination of industrial expansion, financial development, infrastructure investment, and limitations elsewhere in Vietnam could direct significant job growth toward Da Nang and the wider Central Vietnam region. The city may no longer need to persuade every graduate to stay purely through loyalty or lifestyle. It may soon have a stronger employment market capable of making the decision economically sensible.

The question of talent formed an important part of our discussion. Chris had recently participated in a dialogue focused on how Central Vietnam could retain graduates and attract professionals from elsewhere. The issue is not simply whether universities can produce qualified students. It is whether companies, institutions, and industries can provide enough opportunity for those students to build meaningful careers after graduation.

This is a familiar development problem. Businesses hesitate to enter a region because they fear a shortage of qualified workers. Graduates leave because they see too few employers. The absence of companies causes the talent shortage, while the talent shortage discourages companies from entering. Breaking this cycle requires growth to occur across several areas at once.

Tourism and hospitality once provided one of Da Nang’s clearest professional pathways. The city’s resorts, hotels, restaurants, and travel companies created entry-level positions and opportunities for employees to progress into management. The sector also gave young workers exposure to international guests, service standards, foreign languages, and the commercial realities of a globally connected industry.

COVID-19 severely damaged that sense of security.

Chris observed that many hotel owners reduced staffing by seventy or eighty percent when international travel stopped. Experienced employees who had spent ten or fifteen years building careers suddenly discovered that loyalty and tenure offered little protection against a crisis of that magnitude.

The consequences continue to affect the industry. Young people watched parents, relatives, and older colleagues lose jobs after years of service. Many concluded that hospitality was too unstable to justify the emotional and professional investment. Hotels may now be operating again, but some remain understaffed because the pipeline of committed workers has weakened.

This creates a difficult challenge for tourism leaders. They are not simply rebuilding staff numbers. They are rebuilding trust in the sector as a viable long-term career.

Hospitality companies can offer training, promotion pathways, and international exposure, but they must also address the memory of what happened during the pandemic. Young employees need to believe that the sector values their development and has learned from the vulnerability revealed during the crisis.

At the same time, Da Nang’s economy is becoming less dependent on tourism alone. Chris sees this diversification as essential. The city had already begun developing high-tech parks, semiconductor initiatives, industrial areas, and technology-related investment before the pandemic. The interruption to tourism made the need for a broader economic base impossible to ignore.

Manufacturing is one part of this shift. Chris noted that industrial areas around Ho Chi Minh City are reaching high occupancy levels, leaving limited land for future expansion. Northern Vietnam has also attracted major manufacturing investment, but power reliability and capacity remain serious concerns. A large factory cannot tolerate extended interruptions without substantial losses.

These conditions create an opening for Central Vietnam.

The wider Da Nang region, particularly following administrative changes involving Quang Nam, possesses industrial land, port access, improving logistics, and emerging production zones. Chu Lai is especially important within this discussion. For years, the area’s development appeared heavily concentrated around THACO and its industrial operations. Chris now sees growing interest from additional companies and believes the area could develop into a much larger manufacturing and logistics center.

A deep-sea port, industrial land, transportation links, and access to Central Vietnam’s labor force can form a powerful combination. Companies searching for alternatives to congested southern industrial zones may increasingly consider the region, particularly if the supporting infrastructure becomes reliable.

Yet opportunity does not erase constraints. Chris repeatedly returned to energy.

Modern economic development requires enormous and dependable power capacity. Semiconductor facilities, data centers, advanced manufacturing plants, hotels, financial districts, transportation systems, and digital infrastructure all depend on stable electricity. A city may attract interest through incentives and land availability, but serious investors will hesitate if the power supply cannot support operations.

This is not a uniquely Vietnamese issue. Countries across Southeast Asia are attempting to attract data centers and technology investment while confronting the same limitations. Land may be available, but energy systems often require far greater capacity than existing grids can provide.

Chris believes Vietnam is exploring several possible solutions, including solar, wind, nuclear power, and newer small modular reactor technology. His interest in small modular reactors reflects the urgency of the problem. Traditional nuclear power stations require significant land, lengthy approval processes, complex construction, and many years before they begin producing electricity. Smaller modular systems are presented as a more flexible option that could be deployed regionally and potentially completed more quickly.

The technology remains politically and technically significant, and its successful introduction would require regulation, safety oversight, public confidence, and careful implementation. Chris nevertheless sees it as one possible answer to a problem that cannot be resolved through optimism alone.

Renewable energy will remain part of the solution, but it comes with its own constraints. Wind projects face global supply shortages and long waiting periods for specialized turbines. Solar is often easier to install, as I have experienced with the system on my own home, but it still depends on storage, grid policy, and incentives that allow excess energy to be used effectively.

Our discussion of rooftop solar revealed the sometimes awkward gap between technology and regulation. Vietnam previously encouraged households to install panels and sell excess electricity back to the national system. Changes to that policy left some owners producing more energy than they could use without a practical mechanism for selling it.

The result, in one memorable example shared by Chris, was a homeowner leaving windows and doors open while running air conditioning simply to consume surplus electricity. The house may have been delightfully cool for anyone walking past, but it is hardly the model of energy efficiency one would expect from renewable technology.

This example is humorous, yet it points to a serious issue. Infrastructure policy must evolve alongside adoption. Encouraging investment without creating a stable long-term framework can leave businesses and households with assets they cannot use as originally intended. The technology may work perfectly while the surrounding system fails to keep pace.

The same principle applies to Da Nang’s International Financial Center.

A financial center is much more than a building. It requires legal frameworks, regulatory clarity, capital, qualified professionals, tax policy, institutions, international confidence, and companies willing to establish real operations. A beautiful tower may symbolize ambition, but without tenants, talent, and functioning systems, it remains an expensive illustration.

Chris, despite his background in real estate development, expressed little concern about constructing the landmark building immediately. In his view, the financial center could begin operating from ordinary office space. The mechanisms matter more than the architecture.

This was one of the strongest points of our conversation.

Cities often become captivated by visible development. Towers, renderings, launch ceremonies, and large public announcements create excitement. They also offer politicians, investors, and media outlets something tangible to present. Yet the physical structure is usually the easiest part to understand.

The difficult work is institutional.

Who can establish a company there? What regulations apply? How are disputes resolved? Which tax incentives are available? How will foreign professionals obtain visas and work authorization? Which institutions will supervise financial products? How will universities prepare local graduates? How will foreign expertise be transferred rather than simply imported?

These questions do not produce dramatic skyline photographs, but they determine whether the project functions.

The Vietnam Financial Forum was organized partly to move the conversation into this practical stage. Chris and his partners wanted international advisers and investors to understand where Vietnam currently stands, what could be achieved within the next six months, and what must change to attract substantial capital.

His frustration was not directed at planning itself. Serious projects require research, analysis, and consultation. The concern was that discussion can become a substitute for implementation. Every conference produces another report. Every report recommends further consultation. Potential remains safely located in the future, where nobody can yet be held responsible for results.

Chris wanted the forum to push beyond that cycle.

More than forty international speakers and investors participated, including representatives connected to large investment funds. Some discussions involved the possibility of billions of dollars entering Da Nang over several years. These figures should always be treated carefully until commitments become contracts and contracts become operating projects. Still, their presence reflects genuine interest rather than abstract curiosity.

The purpose of the forum was to convert that interest into clearer action.

This required a different tone from the usual celebratory conference language. Chris spoke about putting meat on the bones of the financial center. The phrase is inelegant, but its meaning is precise. Vietnam has already created the policy direction. The next phase requires operational substance.

Investors need to know what they can do now. Universities need to know what skills employers will require. Government agencies need to know where procedures remain unclear. Businesses need to know which incentives are real, which approvals are necessary, and how quickly decisions can occur. The difference between potential and development is execution.

Chris’s comments about workforce behavior brought this point down to the level of individual careers. He expressed concern about young professionals moving rapidly between employers, sometimes leaving after only a few months. From an employer’s perspective, this makes training and development risky. A company may invest time teaching an employee about its product, customers, systems, and professional network, only to see that person leave for a modest salary increase.

Marketing offered a clear example. A serious campaign may take twelve to fifteen months to design, implement, measure, and evaluate. Someone who changes jobs every six months may accumulate titles without ever seeing a complete project through from planning to outcome.

Chris’s criticism reflects the perspective of a professional who spent years within organizations and believes career competence develops through sustained experience. He sees progression as a sequence: junior employee, supervisor, manager, assistant director, and eventually director. Each stage provides repetitions, responsibility, mistakes, and practical judgment.

The younger workforce may see the situation differently. Rapid job changes can reflect low salaries, poor management, limited advancement, or the belief that loyalty is rarely rewarded. The pandemic also taught many employees that employers may end relationships quickly when conditions change.

Both sides have legitimate concerns.

Companies want commitment before investing deeply in employees. Workers want evidence that commitment will lead somewhere. The relationship weakens when neither side trusts the other enough to make the first move.

The term “TikTok brain” emerged during our conversation as a deliberately provocative description of short-term attention and the desire for immediate impact. Younger employees sometimes expect meaningful authority, visible recognition, and rapid advancement before they have spent enough time developing the judgment required for those responsibilities.

This impatience is understandable within a culture of instant feedback. Social media provides immediate reactions. Digital platforms make progress visible through followers, views, likes, and notifications. Traditional careers move at a slower pace. The first year may involve learning systems, observing others, and completing work that receives little public recognition.

Professional growth rarely produces a satisfying notification every thirty seconds. The danger is that constant movement can be mistaken for progress. Changing employers may produce a higher salary or title, but it can also prevent the accumulation of deep experience. Some abilities develop only after remaining with a problem long enough to see the consequences of earlier decisions. Getting the repetitions matters.

At the same time, employers must avoid using patience as an excuse for stagnant wages, weak leadership, or indefinite promises. A young worker should not be told to wait quietly for years while receiving no meaningful development. Retention depends on creating a credible path, not simply demanding loyalty.

This balance will become increasingly important if Da Nang attracts the scale of investment Chris anticipates. New factories, technology companies, financial institutions, and service providers will require professionals at every level. The region will need engineers, analysts, marketers, accountants, managers, technicians, hospitality specialists, legal advisers, and educators.

Foreign experts may help during the early stages, particularly in highly specialized areas. However, a successful regional economy cannot depend indefinitely on imported leadership. Universities and companies will need to cooperate so local talent can enter these industries, learn from experienced professionals, and eventually assume senior roles.

Chris pointed to previous cooperation between AmCham members and universities in engineering as evidence that such partnerships can work. The model can be expanded. Companies communicate the skills they need, universities adapt programs, students gain practical exposure, and employers identify talent before graduation.

This process is far more effective than each institution working separately.

Universities sometimes design programs based on academic assumptions about the labor market. Companies complain that graduates are unprepared but offer little involvement in curriculum or training. Students receive conflicting messages and discover too late that their qualifications do not match available jobs.

A functioning talent ecosystem requires more regular interaction.

The International Financial Center creates a particularly urgent need for this cooperation. Finance today involves far more than traditional banking. The sector includes fintech, cybersecurity, data analysis, compliance, investment, digital assets, risk management, international law, and artificial intelligence.

Da Nang will need professionals capable of working across technical and commercial disciplines. It will also need people who understand both international expectations and Vietnamese institutions. These hybrid skills are difficult to develop quickly, which is why the preparation must begin before every company arrives.

Chris’s argument is that the jobs are coming. Students graduating in several years could be among the first professionals entering a newly expanded market. Being early carries uncertainty, but it also creates opportunity. The first employees within a new sector often gain exposure and responsibility far more quickly than those entering mature organizations later.

His own life offers evidence of this. He arrived in Da Nang when the city’s international business community was small and many of today’s opportunities did not exist. Others became tired, moved away, or abandoned projects. Chris remained, adjusted his work, and benefited from being present as the market developed.

He attributes part of his success to persistence.

This does not mean that everyone who stays will succeed or that leaving is always a mistake. Timing, capability, relationships, and luck all matter. Yet markets often reward those who remain engaged through the slow periods before growth becomes obvious.

Da Nang may now be approaching one of those moments.

The city’s tourism foundations remain important, but they are being joined by manufacturing, technology, finance, logistics, and high-value services. The expanded regional structure offers more land and industrial capacity. The financial center provides a new institutional direction. International investors are paying closer attention.

None of this guarantees success.

Power infrastructure could fall behind demand. Regulation could remain unclear. Talent shortages could delay projects. Investors could become frustrated by administrative barriers. Institutions could continue holding conferences without converting discussion into operating systems.

Potential is not self-executing.

That is precisely why Chris’s urgency matters. His message was not simply promotional enthusiasm for Da Nang. It was a warning that opportunities have timing. Investors compare locations. Companies make decisions. Talent moves. Technologies change. A city that spends too long refining the perfect plan may discover that capital and attention have shifted elsewhere.

There is always another country offering incentives. Another city building an industrial zone. Another university producing graduates. Another market promising faster approvals.

Da Nang’s quality of life and strategic location are meaningful advantages, but they cannot replace execution. Investors will not accept unstable power because the beach is attractive. Companies will not build factories solely because the city is pleasant. Talented professionals will not remain indefinitely without credible career opportunities.

The lifestyle helps attract people. The ecosystem determines whether they stay.

Chris’s comments also revealed a strong personal investment in the city’s future. After twenty-eight years in Vietnam, he has watched Da Nang move from a limited tourism market into an increasingly international city. He raised a family there, built businesses there, and now represents companies across Central Vietnam through AmCham.

For him, the development of the financial center is not simply another commercial project. It is part of a longer effort to create a more diversified and resilient economy for the region.

COVID-19 demonstrated what happens when a city depends too heavily on one sector. Tourism collapsed, jobs disappeared, and years of professional confidence were damaged almost overnight. The response cannot be to abandon tourism. It must be to build additional pillars around it.

Finance, technology, advanced manufacturing, logistics, and clean energy can provide that diversification. If one sector weakens, the entire city should not be placed at risk.

This is economic resilience at the regional level.

The Vietnam Financial Forum therefore represented more than an industry gathering. It reflected a broader question about whether Da Nang is ready to move from aspiration to institutional maturity. The investors may be interested. The policy direction may exist. The land may be available. The city may possess an attractive lifestyle.

Now the systems must work together.

Energy policy must support industrial demand.

Education must connect with future employment.

Regulation must become clear enough for investment.

Businesses must create credible career paths.

Young professionals must develop patience without accepting stagnation.

International experts must contribute knowledge that strengthens local capacity.

The financial center must become more than a building rendered beautifully across the street.

Chris’s most memorable line was that the potential is already here. This captures the difference between the Da Nang of previous decades and the city now emerging. The argument no longer concerns whether Central Vietnam possesses value. The question is whether that value will be organized effectively.

For years, people could discuss Da Nang as an attractive future possibility without making a decision.

That period may be ending.

The city is no longer waiting quietly to be discovered. Jobs, investment, institutions, and infrastructure are beginning to take shape. Some elements remain incomplete, and others will encounter delays. Yet the direction is becoming harder to ignore.

Chris’s warning to investors and professionals was simple: get involved now or risk arriving after the most important opportunities have already been claimed.

That message may sound aggressive, but economic development often contains precisely this tension. Move too quickly and mistakes become expensive. Move too slowly and someone else builds the future first.

Da Nang must now find the discipline to plan well without planning forever.

The boats are gathering in the harbor. The question is no longer whether the tide will come in.

It is who will be ready to move when it does.