HONG KONG, China – There are two things that are sure to happen when the economy tanks.

One is the unraveling of financial scams, a la Bernie Madoff and the alleged wrongdoings of Texas billionaire Robert Allen Stanford. Ponzie schemes depend on a steady flow of cash - and new victims - to create the illusion of steady returns. When the economy turns down, the faucet runs dry and shenanigans come to light.

More worrying is the rise of crimes akin to this weekend’s headline in Hong Kong’s South China Morning Post newspaper: “Conmen target HK’s richest in gold scam.” The story details how suspicious brokers are offering “enormous quantities of gold sourced from the Thai royalty” but first demanding access to bank accounts.

In a downturn, everyone - even the very wealthy - grow more susceptible to schemes that dangle gold and other quick riches. In this scheme, dubious brokers are using fake Web sites and emails that mimic reputable dealers to dupe victims.

Cyber crime is one industry that has skyrocketed since the economy has collapsed. As I wrote in a recent story, incidents of malicious software and Internet scams are fed by people’s need to believe schemes that seem too good to be true.

So we believe that Thai royalty is unloading cheap gold. We hand over bank details based on plaintive emails from Nigerian businessmen and the promise of big cash for a small upfront fee. We click through sites touting “earn thousands from home,” but the only thing we “earn” is spyware that we have unwittingly downloaded into our computer.

Criminals are betting on our suspension of disbelief. And they are banking on it, too.

HONG KONG, China– This week I participated in "a run" on hand sanitizers in Hong Kong. On my way home, I stopped by two drug stores and found none. At the third store I found my prize - about 20 small tubes on one shelf. I picked up one tube, paused for a moment, and picked up a second. Then a third.

A government cleaner takes part in a precautionary clean up in Hong Kong on April 30.

There. I had just made a run on hand sanitizers. No panic, no throwing of elbows, just a causal sense of "better get it while I can."

Six years ago, when SARS was terrorizing the city, the scene was far different. The fear was palpable as, for a time, we radically changed the way we lived.

My old employer, The Wall Street Journal Asia, sent us all to work on the story from home. For the first six weeks, what we learned seemed to only heighten our fears. The media attacked the story as if our lives depended on it - which wasn’t far from how it felt.

What we reported was only a sliver of what we researched. Rumors spread faster than the disease. There was word that SARS had now hit the small island I lived on, Lamma (unfounded). As an April 1 prank, a teenager posted online a false report that Hong Kong was shutting down its air and sea space. Religious emails made the rounds citing biblical prophecies of pestilence.

The panic cut across class. There were runs on supermarkets, for people who holed up at home, and runs on private jet rentals, as the rich tried to take flight. Crowded streets thinned; taxis sat idle. Every sneeze or cough garnered startled looks and nervous jokes. I went to a weekend movie to find the theater nearly deserted. When I choked on my soft drink, four moviegoers seated behind me moved to the other side of the theater. Strange days.

Now strange days are here again. The same stories ("Will masks help keep me well?") the same answers ("No –- but if you’re sick, they could help stop the spread") and the same result (face mask sales through the roof). Masks are more a prophylactic against fear, because the best prevention for SARS then –- and the influenza outbreak now – is the same common-sense advice. Avoid large public gatherings. Thoroughly wash, especially your hands. Stay at home if you’re sick. Otherwise, stay well through healthy food, exercise and rest.

Still, it's weird digging through my Rolodex to call the same sources. I hear the same complaints about media overkill and watch as, once again, people hang on every development.

Bu there's one thing that isn’t the same. The sense of panic in Hong Kong is gone.

Our proximity to the outbreak plays a part. We are used to our status as a citadel standing on the hinterlands of disease –- how surprised we are to see this outbreak make a rearguard attack in the backyard of the U.S. Yet it seems the experience of SARS has immunized Hong Kong from irrational fear.

In a "butterfly-flaps-its-wings way," SARS forever changed my life. Working from home during that outbreak, I began socializing with musicians on Lamma Island and we formed a band. After a gig in 2004, a woman asked me out. A few years later, she became my wife. Nine months ago our son, Jonah, was born.

He is the reason I stocked up on hand sanitizers this week.

There's a thin line between paranoia and preparedness. But thanks to the experience of SARS, Hong Kong residents know where that line is drawn.